#oh ALSO. they both have good singing voices. bruce would only get caught singing in his brucie wayne persona but i know he's got it in him

[lanternbats]

what music do you think Bruce and Hal listen to?

Bruce: He doesn’t listen to music that often (I think he'd find everything other than classical music distracting when he's working), but I think he likes most genres, though his preference is actually mostly 70's-90's disco and pop. You'll have to pry Bruce being a Prince fan from my cold dead hands thanks to my fave post ever. I think the kids help keep him pretty up to date with current music trends and stars and he keeps an ear out on the local Gotham music scene, so while he wouldn't claim to be that big a music guy he can recommend you like 50 (sometimes undiscovered) bands (here, have my other fave music related Bruce post).

Hal: Hal on the other hand is not on earth enough to keep up with anything past the 90's. Classic rock dad type music for this guy (Fleetwood Mac and Pink Floyd make me think of him most), but I know in my heart that he dances round his kitchen to Britney, putting his whole ass into his one man performance of Toxic when no one is watching.

I think they'd have a decent overlap in music taste, even if Hal probably dies laughing when he first sees Bruce's playlists. He was expecting death metal, not Club Tropicana.

[punishing-eden]

Singing soothes the heart and mind...

When the constructs catch you singing...

Pgr Headcanons

Sometimes you just having nothing important to do, and you figured, it won't hurt to lower your guard for a little while.

And so, you began to hum along a small tune. Your hummed the next melody as soon as the pervious one was finished, and the next thing you knew, you were in a singing trance. Without knowing, a figured walked in...

Watanabe (Nightblade/Astral)

Watanabe only allowed you, the Commandant of Grey Ravens to stay in the Oasis for the time being.

He only left you alone in their HQ meeting room to fetch something.

Alone, you were quietly singing a song leisurely as you wait.

Watanabe walked in, his footsteps were quiet and it didn't alert you.

He was surprised to hear you singing.

Watanabe would tune in and listen. The singing reminded him of his late friend, Bruce.

Watanabe said, "You got a nice voice...". You stopped what you were doing and quickly turned around, a little embrassed.

"Do you sing often?" he asked. You nodded, "when I am bored."

"... there is this song, that I think you would also like." "Really?" "It's a old song... a friend of mine taught me, but I am not good at singing. I simply think it's a waste to not have a good voice to sing a good song."

He basically sang it to you. (Please excuse his voice crack in some areas ;w;).

Sometime later, while you are waiting for your team to arrive, you would start to hum Bruce's song. Soon, you began to quietly sing it.

Watanabe just sat next you and listened. Reminiscing the good old days, while enjoying the way you sing as how the song is meant to be.

Sophia (Sliverfang)

Sophia heard your humming and decided to take a look.

She was curious about the song and enjoyed it. It was different than the ones she listened to in Akidelik.

So, she spoked, "Commandant... what are you singing?"

Her voice scared you, and you jumped. Turning around, you saw Sophia standing by the doorway, looking at you.

You have to explain to her that the songs are basically just songs one would listen to on a music player.

"Oh, so this is Eden's music." Sophia commented.

Sliverfang then proceeds to share her experience with music. It was usually music that the nobles enjoyed, or that Changyu would whistle tunes when he's on the job.

As you both chatted about the topic, Sophia suggested to have a duet. Given, she never really have the time or opportunity to sing.

She wanted to try whistling like Changyu.

And, she enjoys making music with you.

Needless to say, some passerby knocked to ask both of you to keep the noise down.

Lucia (Lotus)

She walked in on you singing a song. It was a simple tune, but she felt soothed by it.

So, whenever Lucia catches you alone and singing, she doesn't speak and just listens.

The more she does this, the more she remembers the tune and soon enough, she can sing the same songs.

Although, Lucia won't sing out loud. It's embarrassing for her, and to her, she only wants to hear you sing.

Because the song and your voice calms her in someway.

Funny thing is, she sees singing as a calming mechanism, if there was a situation in dire need of such, she would sing.

Eg. if a comrade or someone gets frantic or incoherent, Lucia would try to use singing; trying to mimic how you sang, as a way to calm said person or to distract them.

But that's only for the last resort.

"It's not me, it's thanks to Commandant's singing that helped."

Qu (Pavo)

She caught you humming a small tune to yourself, and recongises the song was from the time she played the Guqin.

Qu remained quiet and listened as you hummed. Paying attention to each note and rhythm.

She would genuinely be surprised if you can hum the full song with no mistakes.

The next time you visit Kowloong, Qu would alway think of other new songs to play on the instrument so she can boarden your musical scope.

But she rather teach you how to play the instrument instead. There's nothing better than hearing the tune being played by the unique pitch of the gut strings.

Politely, you declined the offer.

Kamui (Tenebrion)

Having to catch you once while you were quietly singing to yourself, he had been deliberately making rounds to catch you singing again.

The books never talked about that.

He was curious about the act of singing and wanted to know a few songs to try it out.

How do you manipulate your voice like that? Do you need to have a program to make your voice having such a big vocal range?

Kamui brings this topic up while you were hanging out with him. And, you tried to teach him how to sing.

Though, you were curious to see if Kamui can grasp the concept of it.

Which was kind of a mistake on your behalf, because after that, Chrome came up to you and said:

"Commandant, it would be better if this came from you, but Kamui has been singing non stop in the resting quarters."

"... Well, I guess he's having fun?" you replied.

"... It would be, if his shouting sounds more like singing. I have already received a few complaints from others. Please, Commandant, do something about this."

[keysmashingfantasies]

An Old Fashioned Meet Cute

A/N: hi! this is my first fic here and i hope you like it. comments and constructive criticism is very much appreciated just please be nice and i tried not to describe nor reader nor the Hilda character too much apart from the fact that they are plus size so it can cater to more people (altough the Hilda character is a white woman originally, I left that out because I wanted everyone to be able to read it) :D. and a huge thank you to @divine-mistake for encouraging me to make this blog and post my fics. ily Tay <3, this one's for you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!plus size Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Bucky didn’t remember much of his life before the war. Not as much as he would like, anyway. But he was content to at least have remembered something. The memories of his teenage shenanigans with Steve always made him laugh. But there was a memory that he didn’t even know it was on his mind until that day when he accompanied Steve to the thrift shop. And until an Avengers party, where he met you.

-

“Steve, come on… Shouldn’t you be showing me the wonders of the modern world?”, he mocked. He knew Steve was doing his best, he did. But he knew that this wasn’t just a friends’ afternoon. And Bucky didn’t need a babysitter.

“I will! I just thought it would be nice to see something less overwhelming first and Sam told me a thrift store would be a nice place to start. Most of this stuff is new to us anyway”, Steve said, picking up a CD of a shelf.

“Yeah, ok”, he mumbled. The things he did for Steve. He mindlessly wandered through the little cluttered store, browsing the shelves full of knick knacks. He saw vinyls, old books, a great variety of toys, some paintings and an old fashioned vanity, with an old mirror, a few vintage perfume bottles, and… Oh.

“Steve?”, he said, picking up the old calendar that was propped up against the stained mirror. Carefully, he lifted the calendar up, looking at his friend. He had seen it before, he knew he did. He flipped through it as he waited for Steve to make his way across the store, careful to not bump in any of the tables containing delicate porcelain tea pots. His eyes scanned through the cover, a delicately painted picture of a curvy woman and with the saying “HILDA, 1940’s calendar” in bold red letters above it.

“Oh wow”, Steve let out a belly laugh. “You remember when we stole some of these? Man, we even took these to war”, he said. He started to remember. Him and Steve running, each one with a calendar in hand, flipping through the pages, Steve whining that he would never find a girl like that. He didn’t even think twice before taking it to the counter, with Steve giggling like a school girl behind him.

“For the memories, punk”, he said in a stern voice and a frown, but with pink dusted cheeks.

“Of course”, Steve said in a mocking voice.

-

“So, Tony’s throwing a party next weekend”, Steve said as he entered the training room.

“I prefer the thrift store”, Bucky mumbled, without tearing his eyes from the punching bag.

“Come on, Buck. I think it will be good for you to go”, Steve said. “It will be something small, Tony will introduce the new team assistant, so no eyes will be on you”, that got Bucky’s attention.

“Small?”, he said, pushing his hair from his face.

“Very”, Steve assured, but he had that look that Bucky knew very well from his young years; the look he would get when he was about to pick a fight. He was up to no good. But he didn’t want another trip to a dusty thrift store.

“Yeah, sure”, he mumbled.

-

You were shaking in your boots. Yeah, you knew that you would work for them, which meant that you inevitably would have to attend this kind of things. But this wasn’t like your former office jobs, no. You work for the Avengers now.

“You can do this. You have to. Do it for the paycheck”, you said, trying to reassure yourself as you shakily applied mascara. As you browsed through your wardrobe, you let out a sigh. You remembered shyly asking for advice on what to wear from Natasha, but you took it with a grain of salt. She could wear a potato sack and still look gorgeous, and you were… Well, a potato. You knew this was another test. If you couldn’t handle all eyes on you and the eventual bickering that was about to happen, you were not fit for the job. But damn, you at least expected a few weeks of taking care of documents and serving coffee before a party. In a room. With the, quoting the tabloid you read that very morning “super team that saves the world and looks hot doing it!”. You were a pretty confident person. But this… Anyone would be nervous.

“You can do this”, you told yourself one more time before heading out.

-

When you got to the party, not everyone was there. You politely greeted everyone with a nod, and gave your name to the ones you didn’t have the pleasure to meet yet.

“You, pick your poison”, Tony Stark pointed at you while walking to the bar.

“No, thank you, Mr. Stark, I won’t be drinking tonight”, you managed to say, silently thanking all the gods above (even the one that was sitting not too far from you) that you managed to hold back the quiver in your voice.

“She doesn’t want to be vulnerable around us. Smart, I like her”, said Natasha. Sometimes you wonder if she was a telepath like Wanda.

“Is there anything wrong, Y/N? I sense that you are uneasy”, asked Vision, with those glassy unblinking eyes. You wondered if he was in your mind that very moment.

“Gee, I wonder why”, said Rhodes, before taking a sip of his drink.

“I’m okay, just… A bit nervous, that’s all”, you said.

“Well, then you definitely need a drink”, said Tony, handing you a glass of champagne that no doubt cost the same as your previous paycheck.

Soon enough, the awkwardness made way to pleasant conversation. You laughed as you listened to their banter. It wasn’t like any business party you ever attended. No, it was more like a family gathering than anything.

The sounds of the elevator doors opening caught you attention as three men wide as refrigerators walked in, followed closely by a pretty young woman. Of course you knew them. You read all about them. Especially The Winter Soldier, the little devil on your shoulder taunting you by remembering you of every single time you talked to your friend about your crush on him.

“Sorry we’re late guys, Steve went to pick me up before the party and we had dinner”, said the blonde, linking her arm with Steve Rogers himself.

“Nah, Sharon, don’t cover his ass. We were late because the three of us had to wrestle Barnes into changing out of that old ass Henley”, said Sam.

Instantly, Tony and Natasha cheered and raised their glasses, making you laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny”, said a gruff voice coming from the bar, making you turn your head, seeing Bucky Barnes open a beer bottle with his vibranium hand. 'How did he sneak past everyone?', your thoughts were interrupted as you took him in. You wanted to personally thank Sam, Steve and Sharon for making him wear that tight fitting black shirt.

“Well, Y/N, here’s Capsicle, Mrs. Capsicle, New Captain, and Snowflake. Guys, this is Y/N, the new assistant. Oh, and there’s Spider Boy but he’s on curfew, Strange had to hop out of the dimension and Scott but he’s… He’s somewhere out there being small, I don’t know. Watch were you step, just to be safe”, said Tony

“Hi”, you gave a shy wave, being greeted right back.

-

If it wasn’t for the serum, Bucky is absolutely sure he would have a heart attack on the spot. You were wearing red heels, a form fitting black pencil skirt and a white button up blouse and he could see your curves, your strong arms, your thighs. You looked absolutely amazing. You look like one of the girls that Bucky would’ve rushed to ask for a dance back in the day. But what really made him stare is the fact that your body type looked eerily similar to the character of the calendar he spent an embarrassing amount of time staring.

As your eyes scanned the room as you were bombarded with questions, Bucky made sure to avoid your gaze, looking everywhere but your face: his shoes, the ceiling, the armrest on the couch, Steve’s shit eating grin. Oh. So THAT’S what it was about. Little shit.

Even avoiding your gaze, he made sure to keep his ears open. A man could be interested, right?

.

By the time the party ended, Thor and Bruce were sleeping, Tony was buzzed walking around singing Iron Maiden, Natasha and Sharon were talking, Steve and Sam were giggling like two school girls, Rhodes went home and Vision and Wanda were talking and looking out the window to the New York skyline.

Which left you – and Bucky – alone.

“Uhhh. I guess I’ll start cleaning, then”, you said. Your face was on fire. The only person that you were sure didn’t like you and you were awkwardly standing, not knowing where to look and what to say. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him but damn it, you were not going to lose this opportunity because of a school girl crush. So you decided to keep yourself occupied by taking some empty glasses and bottles from the table and taking them to the kitchen.

“Oh, come on, Y/N! Let the cleaning crew deal with this in the morning!”, said Natasha.

“No, no, I don’t mind. I like to keep myself busy”, you said with a smile. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. You only hoped she couldn’t see how awkward you were.

“I’ll help”, he said, picking up some glasses and following you.

“You can pick up more of these glasses and I can start washing them”, he said. “I- I noticed you got your nails done, so…”, he said, and you shyly looked away while thanking him and making your way out of the kitchen.

.

In no time, the room was getting emptier. Vision and Wanda went home and Thor took Banner back to New Asgard. And you were almost done with the dishes, having also gotten rid of most of the empty food containers. As you both cleaned, you and Bucky got a bit more comfortable with each other.

“I’m sorry for seeming a bit standoffish earlier”, he said suddenly. “I’m not used to parties and I don’t know how new people will react to me. Especially pretty women”, you smiled at the compliment, but felt your heart ache. You were so caught up in your insecurities that you didn’t even consider his side of things.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I don’t know how you feel but by what I’ve seen and heard, you have a family here. You’re out there fighting to save the world. Trying your best. This is redemption enough, don’t you think?”, you said as you put the glasses to dry, missing the awestruck look that Bucky sent you, a goofy smile making its way into his features. “Okay, you wait here and I’ll get what’s left”.

You were back in no time. “Okay, so just more two champagne flutes and one plate left”, you said but before you could give the dishes to Bucky, you slipped, and if it wasn’t for Bucky’s reflexes, you would’ve fallen hard. You yelped as the sound of breaking glass hit your ears and for a second you two just stared at each other, before Bucky pulled you closer and back to a standing position.

“Thanks”, you said as he helped you straighten up.

“Your ankle, does it hurt?”, he said.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so”, you said.

“Ah, I think it does. And I can’t let a dame go home alone on a hurt ankle”, he said, giving you a dashing smile.

“You know what, now that you’ve said it, it hurts really bad”, you said, catching on. “You know what’s amazing for a bad ankle?”, you asked, and the gentle smile in your lips and the mischievous glint in your eyes made his heart piston inside of his chest.

"What?", he said softly, stepping closer, like you were sharing secrets.

“Ice cream and a walk on the park. Very therapeutical”, you said, making Bucky laugh.

.

Before you knew it, Bucky had already scooped you up into his arms and rushedly announced that you had slipped and fell, whisking you away into the elevator.

“Dude, that took all night”, said Sam. “This is the smooth guy you told me about?”, he said, while Steve and Sharon laughed.

While everyone got ready to go home, Scott came out of the kitchen in his Ant-Man suit eating some leftovers.

“Someone owes me 20 bucks for making her trip”.

[baroquebucky]

hello!! how are you? i was wondering if i could request a little something with Bucky where the reader convinced him to go to the beach with them, and by the end of the day they confess to each other? i know it’s oddly specific, but i hope you can do it! thank you so so so much!🥺💓

a/n: i hope ur doing well !! sorry if this took a while ,, i hope you enjoy pls ignore any typos <3 also let’s just pretend like there’s a beach near the compound okay cool thank u (requests open !)

bucky finds out he only loves the beach because of you

masterlist

You narrowed your eyes, hoping to make Bucky crack under pressure.

“It’s just one day! Cmon it’ll be fun!” You protested, groaning as Bucky smirked as he licked his lips, turning away from you.

“i don’t like the beach” he stated simply, shrugging his shoulders and focusing on the tv infront of him.

“well too bad, it’s not even a whole day, just one afternoon please bucky” you pouted, putting on hand on his thigh and looking at him pleadingly.

Bucky felt his heart rate spike, you were so cute, he would do anything for you. But no, he hated the beach, the sand would get everywhere and it’s so hot.

“sorry y/n” Bucky shrugged and you sighed, getting up from the couch and heading to your room, wondering how to convince the super soldier to go.

The next day you were sat next to Sam, complaining about how Bucky wouldn’t go with you.

“i told him it would be so bad, i was gonna confess and everything i had it all planned out” you spoke, voice lowered so only sam could hear.

He was quiet for a few moments, coming up with a plan quickly, a smirk on his face as Bucky entered the living room.

“yeah I’ll go to the beach with you” Sam spoke, a charming smile on his face, Bucky turned to face the two of you.

You furrowed your brows but quickly caught on, a smile breaking onto your face. Throwing your arms around sam you squealed.

“yay! I’ll pack the sandwiches and fruits right now, i have my change of clothes packed already” you smiled, Bucky looking at you with doe eyes.

“oh hi buck” you grinned, moving past him.

“you’re uh- you going with Wilson?” Bucky spoke, clearing his throat and trying to hide his jealousy.

“yeah, you didn’t wanna go so i figured I’d go with someone else” you shrugged, eyeing him.

“wh- i never said no” Bucky protested, watching you fill the basket with some of his favorite fruits. “technically speaking i never actually rejected the offer” he continued.

You furrowed your eyebrows and stopped moving for a second.

“I guess you didn’t huh, but you said you hate the beach so” you trailed off, closing the basket and making eye contact with the super soldier.

“cant be that bad if I’m with you doll” he smirked and you blushed, clearing your throat and looking down at the basket.

“so you do wanna go to the beach” you stated, walking past him and setting the basket on the counter near the door, sitting back down on the couch near sam.

“yeah” Bucky spoke, turning to face you and you nodded. Sam fought the smile on his face, acting like he had to take a call, leaving only the two of you in the living room.

“okay well you should back some towels and stuff then” you stated and Bucky nodded, getting up and going to his room to get everything he needed.

Sam soon emerged from the hall, a smirk on his face as you broke out into a fit of giggles.

“Sam Wilson you genius” you grinned, hugging him.

“i know, i know, now you go have fun, for the love of god i hope he finally admits he liked you” he groaned, “tired of seeing him pining all the damn time.”

You took your bag and the basket and set them in the backseat of the car, making sure you had everything and waiting in the drivers seat, music playing from the speakers.

Bucky soon walked out, setting his bag in the backseat and hopping in the passengers seat.

“Sam said he had a netting come up so he couldn’t come” he turned to you and you nodded, turning the volume up a bit.

“guess you’re stuck with just me huh” you joked and Bucky smiled, looking out the window as you pulled away from the compound.

The drive was long, but with Bucky there to crack jokes you felt the time fly by. Singing songs he had learned from your playlists and humming along to some 40’s songs you had grown to love because of Bucky.

When you finally arrived, your stomach was growling, jumping out of the car and pulling Bucky along to a nice table near the shore, only a little bit away from the sand.

You both unpacked the food, handing each other your favorite fruits and some other snacks you packed.

“i don’t know what you do but these are so good” bucky smiled after finishing the sandwiched you had packed, giving him the rest of yours once you got full.

“i think we were just really hungry because that was the best one I’ve ever made” you spoke, drinking some water and resting your chin in your hand.

“I was thinking we can go for a swim and then change and then go for a walk while the sunsets” you spoke, watching as the super soldier put the glass containers back into the basket, carefully closing it because focusing his attention back to you.

“sounds great doll” he grinned, getting up with you to go put the basket back in the car.

“race you to the water” you giggled, taking off before you even finished your sentence, stretching your legs as far as they go to try and outrun him.

Bucky smiled as you ran, he waited a couple second knowing he could easily catch up. He closed the car door and sprinted after you, grabbing you by the waist and spinning you around right before you got to the water.

“that’s cheating! I would’ve beat you!” You laughed, squirming in his arms so he would set you down. Bucky smiled at you as you poured at him, arms crossed.

“i gave you a 5 second head start and you’re complaining?” He teased and you hugged, flailing your arms in the air.

“look at me I’m Bucky and i can run so fast” you mocked, lowering your voice to imitate him.

“I don’t even talk like that!” he argued, frowning as you mocked him.

“i don’t even talk like that” you giggled as he frowned, quickly swooping you off the ground and running into the water.

“wait i was joking!” You spoke, eyes widening as a wave crashed into both of you, soaking you to the bone and both of your hair dripping wet, clothes clinging to your bodies.

“i was joking!” Bucky replied, making his voice a higher pitch to mock you, a smirk on his lips as you looked at him in shock.

The two of you messed around in the water for a while, eventually getting out and heading to some showers to change before the sun began to set.

You two met back at the car, Bucky in a t shirt and some shorts and you in float shorts and a hawaii t shirt he absolutely despised.

“you brought that shirt? Really?” He groaned and you smiled at him.

“it’s the beach!” You beamed at him, his gaze softening as you smiled at him.

“only you could pull that off doll face” he smiled and you blushed, closing the car door and mumbling something to yourself.

The two of you talked softly as the sunset, smiling at each other’s comments and acredites while the waves hit the sand. You don’t know how far you had walked when you stopped, looking at the red and pinks of the sky, taking a deep breath and looking at Bucky.

“i have to tell you something” you spoke, wringing your hands together and looking at Bucky as he walked closer to you.

“what is it?” he replied, concern written on his face as he looked around for any danger.

“i just- okay well for a long time” you began, fumbling with your words and moving your hands, “okay well not long but kind of long” you rambled, looking at Bucky who was confused. You shook your head and continued.

“after a while of knowing you i was just- i like you, and not like a friend- yes like a friend but more as in like like you” you paused for a moment, “you know?” You stopped and looked him in the eyes.

Bucky could hear your heart rate over the sound of the waves and seagulls, he could hear how fast it was thumping. He could also hear his, a steady beating in his ears as his face flushed and smile broke onto his face.

You, the girl of his dreams, the girl he thought was out of his league liked him. You opened your mouth, about to start rambling but Bucky wasn’t going to give you the chance.

In one quick stride he cupped your face in his hands and pressed your lips together, kissing you deeply, a smile on your face as you gladly returned the kiss.

You both pulled away, lips pink and faces hot. Seconds passed and you were the first to speak up.

“so do you like me” you questioned, chewing on your bottom lip and Buckys mouth fell open.

“we just made out and you think there’s a chance i don’t like you?” He smirked as you fumbled over your words.

“i do like you doll, i want you to be mine, i want to hold you and kiss you and i want you by my side” bucky smiled, looking at you as you smiled, your heartbeat steady in his ears.

“will you be mine?” he asked and you nodded, throwing yourself onto him and he smiled, your legs wrapped around his waist. Bucky placed a soft kiss on your cheek as he set you down.

“so is that a yes” he teased and you rolled your eyes, letting out a groan.

“you know what i take it back” you joked, crossing your arms and walking away from him. Bucky smirked as you grabbed your wrist softly, pulling you to him and connecting your lips.

Your knees grew weak as he pulled away, biting your bottom lip softly.

“still take it back?” he teased and you swallowed your words, rolling your eyes and smiling at him.

Your fingers were laced the whole walk back to the car, smiling at each other and giggling at anything the other said.

Both of you were smitten and neither of you bothered to hide it, proudly telling sam the second you walked back into the compound, the rest of the team cheering for the two of you.

“about damn time” Sam smirked, patting Bucky on the shoulder and giving you a hug.

“Bruce you owe me $20” Nat smiled and the scientist laughed, protesting on how they never shook hands.

Amidst the chaos the two of you slipped away, heading to shower and change before meeting up in Buckys room to watch some movies.

“M happy i can call you mine doll” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head softly and you hummed in agreement.

“I’m glad i finally bagged the most attractive avenger” you grinned, loving the way he blushed at your comment. You moved closer to bucky, you head resting on his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep as the movie played in the background.

Bucky smiled as your breathing steadied, heart growing as everything finally hit him. You were his. You were his and he was gonna do everything he could to give you the world.

[nugnthopkns]

take the sadness out of saturday night

word count: 2.8k 

warnings: insinuated fem!reader, a couple of curse words, alcohol consumption, vaguely described feelings of inadequacy 

recommended listening: chinatown | bleachers featuring bruce springsteen

a/n: will i ever write anything more than 3k? probs not. also this baby is completely self indulgent but i don’t even care

All you want to do is sleep. Or drink an entire bottle of wine. Maybe both. 

Graduate school is a lot harder than you expected it to be. You obviously weren’t naïve enough to think it be as easy as your undergrad, but you didn’t think it would be like this. It’s competitive; with people doing whatever it takes to get ahead. You’ve almost had your thesis topic stolen twice. The workload is also incredibly different. Gone are the days of small tests and assignments: everything relies on your thesis paper being of the utmost quality. You feel like you’re drowning in the middle of the ocean.

Today was the worst in a succession of terrible days. On the way to campus you dropped your coffee but didn’t have enough time to get another one. The conditions didn’t get any better once you reached school. Your lunch got left behind on the kitchen island and your advisor didn’t show up for your meeting, putting you another two weeks behind schedule. To top it off, you left campus later than usual and caught in the horrendous Philadelphia traffic. By the time you reach your apartment complex you’re thoroughly exhausted and two seconds away from crying. 

How you can afford your current lodging is beyond you. Tuition is waived by the university, which certainly helps, but you’re mostly relying on loans. It will be a bitch to pay off in a few years, but you don’t have any other option. The building isn’t ridiculously flashy, with semi-outdated furnishing, but it’s in a central location that anyone in Philly would kill for. Every day you wake up grateful there isn’t an eviction notice on your door; though you’re very careful to pay rent on time. Only the small lamp in the entryway is on when you unlock the door, but you keep it that way. Kicking off your sneakers and haphazardly hanging up your jacket, you shuffle into the bedroom portion of the studio. The pyjamas tucked under the pillow are calling your name, and it feels so good to free yourself of business casual clothing. 

The next stop on your mad-dash around in order to plant yourself on the couch as quickly as possible is the bathroom. You scrub your face vigorously, knowing you’ll pay for it in a few days when a breakout appears, but you can’t find it within you to care. It feels so good to be clean and in control of a situation. The kitchen is where you meander to next, filling the largest glass you can find with rosé. A bag of candy is grabbed as well, and then you’re tucking yourself into the corner of the couch and piling on the blankets. You open Netflix and briefly debate what to watch before deciding on something you’ve seen a million times before that won’t require your full attention.

Half an hour into the film you get hungry, but with no ambition to cook for yourself. Take out it is. You place an order at your favourite sushi joint and lazily return your gaze to the T.V. The scene on the screen no longer appeals to you, so you dig around the cushions to find your phone. It’s been a while since you’ve called your mom and you know she’s been missing you; truth be told you miss her a resounding amount. Philadelphia is a long ways from home and you can’t afford to travel often. Not being near your pillar of support is definitely wearing on you. She picks up on the fifth ring. 

“Hello?”

A tear slips out at the sound of her voice. Yours catches in your throat slightly, and your response is garbled. “Mom,” it breaks at the end, and the tears quickly turn into a waterfall. 

“Oh honey,” she sighs, chest filling with pain at your apparent despair. “What’s the matter?”

You sob for a minute or two before it subsides enough for you to actually speak. Through hiccups and sniffles you detail your horrible week, and the one before that for good measure. Your mom stays silent, listening with intent, and the one sided conversation eventually turns into you fretting about how you feel inadequate in your academic community and how you can’t picture a future. Only once you’ve ran out of words does she speak, negating the argument put in place by your imposter syndrome and doing her best to inflate your ego. 

“You’ve earned your seat at the table Y/N,” she says with conviction. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you deserve to be there. You’re cut out for this; no one is more passionate about their work than you.”

Another hiccup slips past your lips as you respond. “Thanks Mom.”

You don’t have to see her to know she’s sporting a smile. “We’re so proud of you honey, and always will be. No matter what you decide to do. Hell, you could move to Peru to become an alpaca farmer and your dad and I would be the happiest parents on Earth.”

The comment is meant to make you laugh, citing the time you called her during your undergrad to inform her you were dropping out and moving to the Andes. It works. You can’t help it, and have to admit it feels good after days of negative feelings. She distracts you further, recounting a story about your youngest brother’s recent baseball game that ended with a trip to the hospital after an unfortunate sliding incident. You wince at the mention of the basemen’s cleat colliding with his ankle, and chuckle when she talks about Connor singing showtunes in the recovery room. The story swapping continues, and it brings comfort. If you close your eyes you can envision yourself sitting on your mom’s bed, hiding your face in a pillow when anything embarrassing happens. 

A knock at your door ends your conversation, and the sadness slowly trickles back into your bones. “Mom, I’ve gotta go. The delivery person is here.”

“Okay sweetie. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Having lost track of time, you’re wildly unprepared to pay for your food. “One minute,” you yell in the direction of the front door, praying the person on the other side heard you. You root around your wallet for the appropriate amount of cash before sliding across the floor and unlocking the door handle. The person standing there is not in fact a food delivery service worker, but your neighbour from across the hall, holding what you presume to be your dinner. 

“Nolan?” 

To say you’re shocked is an understatement. Though you’d go as far to say the two of you are casual acquaintances, he’s never shown up unannounced on your doorstep. Most of your interactions take place in the elevator or hallway, and you’ve only been inside his apartment once when you left your keys in your advisor’s office. Being a professional hockey player means he typically isn’t around a lot, but you had learned from a friend he’s spending the season sidelined by an injury. He still hasn’t been around a lot from what you could tell. 

His low rumble catches you off guard for a millisecond but it doesn’t take long to adjust. “They, uh, sent it to the wrong door,” he mumbles, holding out the bag to illustrate his point. 

“Fuck,” you swear. “Sorry. How much do I owe you?” A ballpark figure is in your brain, but you aren’t above throwing in a few extra dollars for the inconvenience. No one wants to receive their neighbour’s food. 

Nolan shakes his head profusely and shoves his hands in his pockets when you try to slip the money into them. “It’s on the house,” he shrugs. “Think of it as an apology for being a shit neighbour these past couple of months.”

“You’re a great neighbour Nolan. I have no complaints.” He returns your smile but doesn’t speak. An awkward tension fills the air between you, almost as if each of you is waiting for the other to talk. 

“Well I’ll let you –”

“Would you like some company?”

The question stops you dead in your tracks. A look of bewilderment must appear on your face because Nolan starts blabbering. “It’s just that you looked upset when you came to the door, like you’ve been crying. I can also see the nearly empty bottle of wine on the counter and that’s never a good sign.” He pauses for a second to take a breath before blurting out a final sentence. “And there’s a game tonight and if I don’t distract myself from it I think I might die.” Ragged breathing punctuates the sudden stoppage, and when you look up to meet his eyes you feel a sense of desperation. 

Without saying anything you open the door wider and retreat into the unit, hoping he gets the hint. It takes him all of two seconds to follow you, quickly darting across the hall to lock his door. You’re at the fridge when he returns, and turn around to ask him what he’d like to drink. 

“It seems like an alcohol kind of night,” you chuckle. “What are you having?”

He looks at you sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. “Could I have a glass of that rosé?” 

You nod and gesture for him to pass you the bottle. “Never pegged you as a wine drinker,” you comment as you fill his cup. 

“Travis teases me relentlessly so I don’t keep it at the house anymore. Can only drink it in private.”

At the mention of his teammate’s name you understand. It’s exhausting to fit into someone’s mould of you. “Your secret is safe with me.”

The two of you migrate to the couch and once again become shrouded in silence. It’s comfortable this time, as you nurse your glasses and watch the skyline. Just having someone by your side is enough to quell the upset you’ve felt all day. You wonder why you hadn’t sought Nolan out sooner. It seems he’s been in a similar situation; having terrible days and feeling alone. Conversation only comes once he realizes both your drinks are empty. Nolan opens the fridge to find one more bottle of wine; a cheap, fruity one that’s meant to taste like a cooler. It’s strawberry flavoured, which equal parts thrills and disgusts him. He’s thrown back to his first high school party, when this was the only alcohol he could get his friends’ older sisters to buy him.

“I feel like I’m sixteen again,” he laughs, not bothering to fill his glass. Instead, he swigs from the bottle before reaching over the back of the couch and placing in your lap. You follow his lead, drinking directly from the vessel.

“Don’t judge me,” you huff. “I like the way it tastes.”

Nolan gazes sideways at you before dropping his voice to a near whisper. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

In a streak of boldness that came from god knows where, you place a hand on top of his. He doesn’t retract but doesn’t push forward either. You’re too scared to do anything else, and soon retract your hand and place it in your lap. “So,” you cough. “You need a distraction?”

☀☀☀☀

One comedy special turned into three, and it’s safe to say both you and Nolan are feeling exponentially better than when he knocked on your door. The alcohol flowed until you ran out, but neither of you are drunk. Perhaps tipsy; most definitely content. It’s so nice to enjoy someone’s company without the pressure of maintaining a perfect appearance. Nolan must feel it too, because he slowly begins to open up, talking about his career and ambitions for a life after hockey. You sit quietly, much like your mother had done hours before, as he describes his frustration with the migraines and how he yearns to bond with his teammates.

“I’m just so scared this is it, that I’m done,” he hiccups. 

You tentatively shuffle closer to him, looking for signs that he’s uncomfortable. Once you’re squished beside him, shoulder to shoulder, you take yet another page from your mother’s book. “If tonight is a good indicator of who you are, then you, Nolan Patrick, are going to be just fine. Seems to me that this is nothing but a bump in the road. You’re destined for greatness.”

He smiles, possibly the first completely real one he’s given you all night, and it reaches his eyes. “You really think that?”

“Absolutely. Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t believe it to be true. You see, in my line of work, truth is of the utmost importance.”

At Nolan’s incessant prodding you talk about school, your thesis, and what you hope to achieve. It doesn’t sting the way you thought it would, possibly because you’re speaking to someone who’s completely enamored with the topic. Academia clearly fascinates Nolan, though he makes it clear he has no interest in joining the community. The only way you can describe the feeling of explaining everything to him is refreshing; he asks insightful questions about your research and isn’t bogged down by the technicalities like so many of your fellow scholars. When you’ve exhausted all you can say and Nolan’s ‘poked’ holes in all of your theories, he gets a serious look and turns so your body is framed by his. 

In this position there’s no denying how attractive he is. Of course you’ve always found him easy to look at when you passed in the halls, but knowing him as intimately as you now do makes you realize how much you like him. “Come to a game with me?” he asks. 

Your rhythm is once again thrown off by the man in front of you. “A game?”

Nolan nods enthusiastically. “A game. I’ve been meaning to go to one for a while, but I can’t find the courage to go alone. The next home game is on Tuesday, but we can obviously go to another one when it fits your schedule. If you want to come, that is.”

He’s yet to be this excited about hockey all night, and who are you to deny your newfound friend something he wants so badly? “Tuesday’s perfect Nolan.” He pumps his fist in happiness and you giggle at his antics. 

“I’m so happy I could kiss you.” It slips out before he realizes, and the shock on his face lets you know it was an accident. 

“You can if you want.”

You’re surprised at your own boldness, but don’t have much time to read into what the statement could mean because Nolan’s leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The moment his lips touch yours it feels like a homecoming. He’s gentle but firm, letting you know he doesn’t want this to be a one time thing without saying anything at all. Nolan brings to you a sort of warmth that settles in your chest that makes you truly content with how life is going. You lose yourself in him, letting your heart steer the ship. He never waivers from you, only pulling back slightly to card his fingers through your hair. They settle at the nape of your neck and make shivers tingle your spine. You’re impossibly close, but you wish it would never end. After what feels like a millennia you break apart, chests heaving slightly from the lack of oxygen. 

You can’t find the words, but you know you never want to be without Nolan again. All the anguish you experienced earlier feels light years away after a few short hours of truly knowing him. It seems that he’s on the same page, because Nolan makes no effort to remove himself from the situation. In fact, he seems perfect content to never move again: arm comfortably around your shoulder as he places a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. 

“So is Tuesday a date now?” You squeak, voice small. You’re worried you’ve ruined the moment, but he cuts off your overthinking with a squeeze your bicep. 

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” he replies, and you know he means it. 

You can’t help yourself and slot your lips against his once again. “I’d like that a lot. There’s one condition though: I want to meet Gritty.”

Nolan’s laugh echoes off the walls and sounds like the sweetest melody you’ve ever heard. “Think I can manage to pencil you in to the schedule. It has a soft spot for me.”

As he reaches for the remote to put on highlights of the game that’s well over, you shuffle to rest your head comfortably in his lap. Your fingers find his and lazily combine. Nolan mumbles something you don’t quite catch, something about a play Travis made, but you hum in agreement anyways. He’s most likely right. Your eyes begin to droop, and as you fall asleep you forget why you were even sad in the first place. 

☀☀☀☀

taglist: @jamiedrysdales​ if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

[wannajointhecrabcult]

Masks and Music

(Part 1)

Part 2

I didn't think that my last post would've gotten ANY notes at all, so imagine my surprise when I find out that people actually liked it. After that suprise I thought why not and make another one so here we go! This is a Miraculous/Batfam crossover.

Imagine that Damian gets sent to Paris because the fam doesn't want him to become an emotionally constipated sad boi like Bruce and think that a change in scenery would help.

They don't know about the whole Hawkmoth situation because SOMEONE from the justice league decided that the while thing was a prank DESPITE that it was an ENTIRE CITY calling instead of a single person.

Like, aren't you guys supposed to be the world's greatest heros or something?

Who hired you?

Damian being the grumpy lil kid that he is holds a grudge and decides to not accept any calls or video chats from his family or tell them about Hawkmoth because that's what you get when you send someone across the world against their will.

(and because of plot convenience shhh)

Anyways, Damian goes to school as instantly adds Lila onto his mental list of people he needs to get rid of.

I mean, seriously, he's only been is the room for what, 15 seconds and he's already getting a migraine?

Great. Juusssttt great.

He sits in the back of the class with what seems to be the only person with brain cells in this room.

The dark haired girl just looks over and sees the disgust at Lila written all over his face and gives him a silent empathetic nod.

'This is unfortunately normal here.' she tries to convey through the small action.

He just nods back to show his understanding before turning around to observe the others.

In a few minutes Ms. Bustier walks in the room and asks him to introduce himself to the class.

It looks like the teacher never told the class that they were getting a new student because they all have to do double takes when they realize that there's a new face in the room.

He gives them the bare basics, telling them that his name is Damian Grayson, he's from America, and that he doesn't want any of them to talk to him before sitting down.

Clearly the teacher wanted him to say more or scold him for being so rude but a glare shut her up.

Later during a break period Lila tries to flirt with him and brags all about how she's met so many different celebrities and her achievements.

He tells her off and tries to move away but her nails are digging into his arms as she tries to convince him that he should stay away from Marinette.

Before he can maim her, the dark haired girl comes out from behind him and starts spraying Lila down like an unruly cat with some sort of strong smelling liquid from a spray bottle.

Lila screeches and stomps away.

When he turns to his hero the girl explains.

"It's a mixture of shredded lemon, expired maple syrup, vinegar, and pomegranate juice. I call it People Repellant but Thot Begone works too. Oh, and I'm Marinette by the way."

He eyes her hand before shaking it.

"Damian, though I assume you already know that. Can I get some of that by the way? I know a couple insufferable annoyances that would benefit from a spray down.

Marinette just blinks for a second before she bursts out laughing and that was the start of a great friendship.

Together they:

Make fun of Lila in the back of class.

Help eachother with homework (they only cheat off eachother when they REALLY need help)

Prank Lila in odd ways (Hey, just because she found hundreds of furbies hidden around her house that turn on one by one in the middle of the night effectively scaring the crap out of her when she's trying to sleep doesn't mean that it's their fault. She had it coming.)

Break a couple laws (shhhhhhh. Those toy stores don't need those furbies anyways).

Dare eachother over stupid things (they still insist that the cereal incident was caused by the other).

And overall become closer as friends.

They bring out the overdramatic chaotic gremlin child in eachother.

One time when Damian goes over to Marinette's place to work on a project he finds her singing a Disney song to herself on her balcony.

This isn't the first time they've caught eachother singing.

One time Marinette caught Damian in the art room at school humming one of the many annoyingly cheesy and catchy songs that Dick likes to listen to.

Despite him explaining the embarrassing situation to her she still teased him for weeks after.

He'll never get to live it down.

Damian shakes his head to get rid of the flashback when a devious smirk spreads across his face as a revenge plan comes to mind.

After carefully placing his stuff on the floor he sneakily makes his way across the space until he's right behind her.

That's when he joins in.

Screaming at the top of his lungs at first, effectively giving her a mini heart attack before eventually quieting down to a normal singing volume.

She glares at him, annoyed by his loud and obnoxious entrance before she starts singing again.

They eventually end up full Disney movie dramatically performing around her balcony with dance moves and over dramatic acting.

Is it bad that actual birds and other animals are appearing and joining in?

Damian totally kept one of the pigeons.

He named it Dolores.

(He later trained Dolores to attack Rossi on sight.)

When they're finished they end up on the floor out of breath.

They stay like that for a few minutes before Damian sits up.

"That. That was fun. I don't think I've actually ever sang before."

Marinette jolts up in suprise and turns to face him.

"Really? I never would've guessed. You have a really nice singing voice."

He would deny till his dying breath that he blushed when she said that but he covers it up with a smirk.

"Well I guess that's just because yours is so terrible in comparison."

He squawks when she jabs a finger in his side.

"Pshh. As if. Besides, my singing skills can't be worse then your gaming skills." She challenges with a cheeky smile.

"ExCuSe mE?!"

And that's how they spend the rest of the day playing video games, leaving the unfinished project to be completed on a later day.

Good thing it isn't due until 2 weeks time.

After a couple of hours playing video games, creating many possible Lila murder plans, eating pastries, and joking around, it's time for him to leave.

As Damian left for his place he got a feeling that something big was gonna happen.

Marinette also got the feeling but they both ignored it.

Little did they know, someone just happened to walk by and starstruck by the amazing singing they recorded the performance before posting it on the internet.

Imagine the duo's suprise when they wake up the next day to find themselves trending on the internet.

Luckily the video quality was pretty trash so their faces weren't identifiable but the audio was loud and clear.

The world was talking about the cute couple singing to their hearts desire on a balcony. If that's not cliche and adorable then the world doesn't know what is.

The assumption about their relationship status left them looking like tomatos but that didn't stop them from wonder why they didn't notice a creep recording them.

Damn Disney songs and their unnatural ability to distract people.

Of course Lila took advantage of the rising popularity of the video and talked about how she taught the two people in the video how to sing and gave them tips.

The two just walked past the idiot squad and sat down in their seats, making a mental note to come up with a prank later, when the akuma alarms came on.

They fall into their normal routine of Marinette running out to find a place to transform as Damian covers for her.

Oops did I forget to mention that Damian found out her identity because she crashed through his window in the middle of the night still transformed and asked him what's the answer to question 24 in their science homework because she just defeated an akuma by herself and was running on 20 minutes of sleep?

My bad.

Anyways it turns out today was the day Marinette had officially had enough of Chat's bullcrap.

It was gonna be a normal akuma situation.

Ladybug trying to fight the poor butterfly victim while chat noir either doesn't show up, tries to do everything on his own to impress her and ruins the whole plan, or just watches and complains about how she needs to get over her denial and date him BUT

This time he decided to actively try to push her in the akuma's way therefore putting her in SO MUCH MORE DANGER than she was already in.

Now she had to dodge out of the akuma's way AND CHAT'S!

WhAt ThE fUdGe?!?!

You think possibly killing Ladybug and trying to force her to beg for you to save her is gonna make her like you?!?

Just how hard did you hit your head when Gabriel dropped you on the floor when you were 2?

After the akuma was eventually defeated Ladybug told Chat to meet her on an abandoned rooftop that night because they needed to talk.

Chat being the oblivious person that he is (I swear I don't actually hate chat noir, this is for the plot I'm sorry) thought that it was for a love confession and became overly smug before leaving.

Making sure that he isn't following her, Marinette meets up with Damian at his place (school's over because of the attack) and asks him to help.

Later that day when the two miraculous holders meet up Ladybug distracts the Catboy by flirting with him while Damian uses his ninja skills for something other than sneaking up on her and giving Marinette mini heart attacks.

From behind he quickly hits a pressure point causing the other boy to fall unconscious.

Using her ALMIGHTY GUARDIAN OF THE MIRACULOUS powers, Ladybug takes Adrien's ring away and places a spell on him that makes it so he will never be able to use another miraculous ever again.

After they take Adrien home Marinette gives Damian the ring and Night Prowler is born.

He promises to do everything in his power to make sure that Selina and his family doesn't find out for the sake of his pride.

We'll see how that goes.

Night Prowler first officially appeared during an akuma named 'Break Dancer'.

Ironically, she was a ballerina that had to drop out of the finals in a competition because she broke her right leg the day before the show.

She could turn civilians into back up dancers and forced them to perform against their will.

They also worked as minions who would attack the duo for her while she stayed a safe distance away.

It was pretty obvious that the akumatized item was the music box held inside the bag that Break Dancer had slung around her shoulders but the real question was how could they get to it without becoming attacked by the backup dancer or becoming one of them.

Luckily (eheheh), a car with an open window playing music just happened to pass by before driving off.

Before it drove off, the music coming from the car was loud enough to play over the music box which caused some of the minions to become free again and run off.

Ladybug called her lucky charm and a Bobby pin landed in her hand.

As she looked around she noticed a store a couple blocks away that had a couple radios.

Unfortunately, the store was locked and closed.

Fortunately, she knew how to pick locks and a Bobby pin did come from her lucky charm soooo......

Who is she to deny literal gods.

They break into the store and grab a radio, and a speaker and rush over to where the akuma was causing chaos.

They turn on the radio, connect the speaker and turn the volume on as loud as it can go before flipping through the stations for a good song.

If they're gonna fight with music in the background they're gonna be picky about it and wont settle for anything other than epic.

While fighting they eventually get swept up in the music and end up singing along.

It's nothing less than full on majestic.

When the fight is over and the akuma is purified they find out that someone recorded it and posted it on the internet as well.

Now everyone knows that the beloved hero of Paris and her new partner were the two people singing on that balcony.

Ummmmm.....

Good thing that the video quality was trash right?

If it weren't for that their identities would've been busted the moment they started singing in hero form.

Luckily there aren't many people other than Damian that know what Marinette's singing voice sounds like so they're okay.

Well.... They WERE okay,

Until a certain rockstar and his agent came across the two videos and put two and two together.

So now King Sting (bee!jagged) and Peridot (turtle!penny) have joined the team.

Poor Penny, now she has to deal with two gremlin children and a some sort of bizarre man-child.

The next akuma confused the group quite a bit.

He didn't really do anything but sit on a rooftop waiting for the miracle team to show up.

They were all suspicious of him at first but when they did reveal themselves to him he explained his situation.

He was akumatized because his favorite rock band broke up but he didn't really want to take their miraculouses away.

He just asked if they could perform another song for him and he would give his akumatized item to them.

They all sorta looked at eachother and collectively went 'screw it why not' and sang another song.

If they were great before, they are absolutely AMAZING now.

Well that's what happens when you add a famous rockstar to a team of singing superheros I guess.

The akuma was blown away and true to his word handed over the rolled up picture in his pocket and was purified despite of Hawkmoth's nagging.

Haha screw you Hawky.

This time the ordeal was recorded by a news station and the 'hand over the akuma in exchange for a song' thing became a trend.

There were still normal akuma's that didn't follow follow it but those were far flung between.

It seems like Hawkmoth was getting annoyed by this so there started being less akuma attacks over the months.

Because of this some people were actively trying to get upset to attract one of the purple butterflies.

They traded one good thing for another I guess.

To stop that from happening the group started performing in public as superheros during concerts and festivals.

Because of this they became quite well known outside of Paris as well.

Is it ironic that more people know them as a band rather than a superhero team now?

When Marinette learned that they could change what their superhero costumes looked like if they put enough will into it she squealed.

Marinette designs superhero performance costumes for them whenever they have a festival to play at.

Whenever asked about their outfits they always reply with MDC.

Marinette's business gets really popular after that.

And since no one knows who MDC really is, she doesn't have to worry about the whole "Oh no me and my family are gonna be in danger!" thing

It's a win win!

Overtime they basically become a second (or third for some people) family to eachother.

Damian becomes more 'kid like' and open to others,

Marinette becomes more confident and overall happier,

Jagged gets to hang out with his awesome niece and her 'maybe more than just a friend',

And Penny gets a new outlet for stress and has so many more crazy stories to tell people.

One day while she's in the living room on the sofa watching 'The AristoCats' Damian just barges into the room and dramatically flops over onto of her.

He just lays there with his head in her lap and the rest of his body sprawled on the couch.

After everything that has happened this is normal for them now.

Without asking any questions or talking at all they just watch the movie together with the occasional remark or quip between them.

Around half way through the movie Jagged kicks down the door, effectively scaring the crap out of the two teens, while Penny follows behind him with an apologetic look on her face.

At first Jagged was yelling about something having to do with'Fang' and 'Dragon' and 'Miraculous' but after taking in the domestic atmosphere of the room he just sits down on the floor and joins in on watching the movie.

Penny, shaking her head in both amusement and exasperation, sits down on another chair and does the same.

While combing through Damian's hair with her fingers Marinette looks around the room.

'My life can't get any more complicated, can it?'

Oh boy, she just jinxed it.

This is just an idea I've had bouncing around in my head for awhile and I couldn't resist the urge to write it out. I AM planning on making a part 2 so if you like this keep an eye out for that. I'm by no means a fast writer though so it will take a while. But then again not many people will probably read this soo.... Yeah.

[prettyyoungandbored]

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Seven

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warning: This chapter contains description of a heavy panic attack. Please read at your own risk.

Taglist: dragonballluver, disgraceful-marvel-trash, barikawho (Let me know if you want to be tagged in this!)

Author’s Note: A chunk of dialogue in this chapter comes from the movie and has been expanded on to fit the storyline. 

Previous

“And when exactly is your mother planning to visit us?” Monsignor O’Malley inquired as he followed Demetria. 

Demetria snapped a photo of the hallway before looking over her shoulder. “Most likely next month. Once I send her the photos , she’ll work on drafts and whenever she comes, we can all sit down and discuss how to go about the process.” She snapped her fingers. “You know what, I have her business card with me because she sometimes does work in Gotham City.” 

She pulled out her wallet from her purse and handed Monsignor O’Malley the thing off white card. “She’ll be happy to answer any of your questions and or concerns.” 

He smiled as he took the card. “This is awfully generous of you, Ms. Gallagher. We can’t tell you how grateful we are.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” she waved her hand. “Both Bruce and I want to make sure you, the sisters, and the boys are taken care of with whatever you need.” She paused. “How are the boys doing?” 

“They’re wonderful.” 

“Oh good! I was actually wondering if I could go say ‘hi’ or-.” 

“Unfortunately the boys are on a field trip with the sisters.”

Demetria nodded understandingly, trying to hide her disappointment. “Absolutely.” Then an idea hit her. “Do the nuns teach the boys?” 

“Some do. We’ve been thinking about incorporating more schooling into the boys schedules, but we’re a little short staffed and not all the nuns feel comfortable teaching certain subjects.” 

“I’d love to step in,” Demetria offered. 

Monsignor O’Malley raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What is it you would teach?” 

“I’m excellent at English. All levels. I was a TA my senior year of high school. I even minored in it in college.” 

Monsignor O’Malley nodded his head, impressed. “Well, if it doesn’t interfere with your schedule-.” 

“I don’t have one,” she laughed. 

He chuckled. “Then I suppose it’s something we can try out. Are you free next week?”

Her eyes lit up. “Absolutely!’ I would love that!”

Before she could say more, the sound of her phone ringing cut her off. She gave Monsignor O’Malley an apologetic smile as she dug into her bag. “Excuse me one second.” 

She glanced down to see it was a reminder that she had to start getting ready for the fundraiser. 

“Please excuse me, but I’ve got to head out,” Demetria said. “Remember, if you have any questions, you have my number as well as my mom’s.” 

“Of course. I also look forward to discussing you working here.” 

“I do as well.” 

The two shook hands and Demetria headed out of the orphanage.

She had taken Bruce’s Cadillac XLR, seeing as it was the only semi-low-key-looking car he owned and the only one she didn’t get anxious driving. She wished he had owned something a little less glamorous for trips like this, hating how it made her look, but it was what it was.

As she she opened the driver’s side door, she noticed a photographer snapping her from the distance. The two stared at each for a moment, acknowledging just what was going on. She exhaled softly, mentally reminding herself to keep it together.

Since her essay was published, the media outlets had backed off a bit. The Gotham Times were still insistent of doing a piece on her and published one on her, but it turned out to be a dud as no one close to her would speak to them with the exception of her former News Director and the Head Booker, her other boss. It also helped that a local mob boss was mysteriously killed and the news decided to fixate on that. 

She gave him a quick, tired smile before she slid inside and closed the door, driving off.

===================================================

Back at the Wayne Penthouse, Bruce adjusted the cuffs of his pristine white dress shirt as he made his way down the stairs. 

Alfred wrapped up his conversation with the party planners and turned his attention to Bruce. 

“I think your fundraiser will be a great success,” Alfred remarked. 

“Why do you think I want to hold a party for Harvey Dent?” Bruce questioned, almost annoyed at the thought of it. 

“I assumed it was your usual reason for socializing beyond myself and the scum of Gotham’s underbelly to try to impress Miss Gallagher.” 

“Very droll, very wrong,” Bruce responded, glancing up for a brief moment. 

Alfred looked over his shoulder for a moment, noticing the party planners were not in the room. “Have you considered telling Miss Gallagher what it is you’re doing at night?” Alfred inquired in a voice low enough for Bruce to hear him. 

Bruce glanced up. It wasn’t the first time this conversation came up between the two. “Soon.” 

“Before or after you say ‘I do’?” 

“When the time is right.” 

“Perhaps she should truly know what she’s getting herself into.” 

Bruce stopped in his tracks. “What are you implying, Alfred?” 

“Miss Gallagher has given you every ounce of herself.” 

“Who says I-.” 

Bruce’s attention was caught by the low sound of the television. He looked over to find GCN airing what appeared to be a figure of Batman, hanging with a rope around it’s neck on a building.  The lower third read “BATMAN DEAD?”

Demetria walked down the stairs and into the living room, tightening the belt on her cozy white bathrobe when she saw Bruce and Alfred staring at the tv. Curious, her eyes darted to the tv when she saw the lower third. 

Her blood ran cold with disbelief and shock, heart dropping into her stomach. 

The camera cut back to GCN anchor, Mike Engel. 

“Be aware, the image is disturbing,” he warned. 

The camera then cut to a man dressed in a cheap Batman getup, his plump cheeks spilling out of the cowl. He was sat on the floor of what looked like the back kitchen area of a butcher shop with a silver cart and a large pieces of animal meat hanging behind the victim. He had his hands tied behind them, his face lowered to the game. 

“Tell them your name,” the camera man said in a menacing, sing-song voice. 

“Brian Douglas,” the fake Batman answered weakly.

“Are you the real Batman?” There was a childish, teasing tone in the voice behind the camera to a point where it was menacing. It was almost as if whoever it was took immense pleasure in this man’s torture. 

“No.” Brian was barely hanging on. 

“No?” the voice repeated back, almost in a whine to mimic Brian’s pain. 

“No.”

“No?” The voice giggled. An arm reached over and pulled the cowl off Brian. “Then why do you dress up like him?” The camera pulled back, the arm dangling the cowl in front of Brian. The voice laughed a stomach curdling “Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!”

“Because he’s a symbol...that we don't have to be afraid of scum like you,” Brian retorted with a slight bit of courage in his weak tone. 

“Yeah. You do, Brian.” The hand grabbed the side of Brian’s face, the camera coming in close. “You really do.”

The hand pulled the top of Brian’s head as the man whimpered. The hand turned back and stroked Brian’s cheek. “Oh, shh shh shh.” 

Demetria shook her head, her stomach growing weak. Bruce’s eyes fixated on the TV, his expression stone cold with eyes colored in disbelief. 

“So,” the voice continued on, “you think the Batman's helped Gotham? Hmm?”

Brian didn’t respond. 

“LOOK AT ME!” 

The roaring voice caused Demetria to jump back, her hand slapping on her mouth. 

The camera swung around to reveal the person behind the voice, the sight causing Demetria to yelp, “Jesus Christ!” 

The red smeared smile was complimented by his chalk-white foundation and accentuated the long scars on the sides of his face. Two lazily painted black eyeshadow covered his eyes and he revealed his dark yellow teeth. 

“You see, this is how crazy Batman's made Gotham. You want order in Gotham, Batman must take off his mask, and turn himself in.”

It was something behind the clown that Demetria recognized. A memory popped up in her mind, her jaw dropping at the realization. 

“Oh, and everyday he doesn’t, people will die. Starting tonight. I’m a man of my word.”

As the camera switched around, the man let out a menacing cackle as Brian screamed in the background. Demetria, overcome with her realization and the man’s grim promise, hurried up the stairs, Bruce and Alfred watching her. Bruce turned off the television and glanced at Alfred who shot him a look. He gave the old man a nod, indicating the message was received.

In their bedroom, Demetria grabbed a notebook from her nightstand as well as a pen. She began writing hurriedly, her cursive handwriting slightly smudged from the pen. Upon finishing, she ripped the page from her notebook and folded it. She reached back into the drawer, grabbing an empty envelope and shoving the folded paper in there. She licked the envelope, sealing tightly with her fingers and placed it back into the drawer. 

Just as she went to close the drawer, she heard the door unlock and grabbed her anti-anxiety meds.

Bruce entered the room.

“Everything ok?” he asked, gentle concern laced in his tone.

She waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah. Just that video was, uh, pretty overwhelming to watch. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.” 

He eyed the pilll bottle in her hand. “You know you should probably put that in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.”

She chuckled. “You’re right. I’m just used to putting them in nightstand drawer. But considering we’re having a bunch of random people over, I guess you’re right.” She paused, a smirk playing on her lips. “Should I leave some viagra in a little bowl for our older guests trying to impress their much younger dates?”

He sat beside her on the bed, smirking at her. “I don’t have any because I don’t need it.”

She hummed, patting his leg. “I wouldn’t say that.”

He pulled her close, his breath hitting her lips. “Not funny.” 

“Oh, but it is. It really is.”

She gave him a chaste kiss, nuzzling her nose against his. “You think maybe we should cancel this party? I mean, I don’t think it’s safe.” 

“We’re going to be fine,” Bruce reassured. 

She sighed, realizing there was no point in changing his mind. “Then I guess I better continue getting ready.” 

He chuckled. “Well, don’t get too excited, sweetheart.” 

“It’s just...” she stepped back, “I don’t know.” Her fingers toyed the robed belt. “I figured you’d cancel the party and we could spend the night in here...” She continued to move back toward the bathroom area, throwing off the robe to reveal her naked body to him. “And I’d let you do whatever you want to me. But since you won’t cancel it...” She shrugged. “Oh well.” 

Bruce could feel his pants grow a little tight and he was ready to have her pay the price. His hungry eyes stayed on her, like a lion ready to pounce on it’s prey. “You get back here. Right. Now.” 

She shook her head. “I have to get ready.” She pointed to the tent in his pants. “I suggest you take care of that situation before you leave this room.” 

She grabbed the robe from the floor and closed the door behind her, locking it so Bruce wouldn’t try anything. 

She exhaled and ran a hand through her damp hair. She wasn’t sure how long this party would last, but she had to make sure Batman got her letter. 

==================================================

Bruce waited outside near the helicopter landing pad, his hands in his pockets. He watched as the navy blue sky took over the sunset, but once he turned his head, his breath was taken away by an even more beautiful sight. 

Demetria walked out on to the helicopter landing pad, her black hair in an updo with long, curled strands of hair framing her face. Her navy blue gown was strapless with a subtle reverse sweetheart neckline, and hugged her small curves just right before flowing out on to the floor.  Her makeup stayed on the subtle side with her eyeliner and mascara accentuating her warm, emerald green eyes and her Goldilocks lips were the perfect shade of pink. 

“Is it too much?” she asked, stopping in her tracks. She put a hand on her stomach, feeling the knot inside tightening. Her face fell into a panic. “Oh shit, it is, isn’t it?” 

He shook his head, his thumb grazing her cheek as he smiled at her adoringly. “You look incredible, sweetheart.”

Color filled her cheeks as her pink lips curved into a bashful smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Wayne.” 

His lips gently crashed on to hers as he cradled the side of her face. For a moment, as they relished in their kiss, the world was still and time froze. Neither of them could remember the last time they shared such a moment, but they truly savored it while they still could. 

Bruce pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers. “For the record, you still owe me from before.” 

She hummed against his lips. “I’ll take it into consideration.” 

He smirked at her. “You’re lucky I like you. C’mon, let’s go.”

He took her hand in his, leading her onto the helicopter. The pilot helped her up first, Bruce following right after. As the two sat in the back, Demetria turned to him.  “What’s the point of doing this again?”  

He took her hand once again. “Grand entrances are fun. Plus, wait til’ you see the view from above.” 

He felt her latch on to his arm as the sound of the choppers roared in. Soon enough, the helicopter began rising, the weight of the ground lifting. As it took off into Gotham City, Demetria watched the twinkling city below her.

As childish as it seemed, Demetria felt like Jasmine did on that magic carpet with Aladdin. Seeing Gotham from a bird’s eye view, the city looked beautiful and peaceful. 

Bruce relished in watching his fiancé’s amazement, hoping he could make her feel this way for the rest of their lives. 

She looked over at him. “You were right. This is incredible.” 

She scooted closer to him, leaning back on his shoulder as she continued to look out the window. Bruce pressed a kiss to her temple, reaching his hand over to hers on her lap, clasping them. 

Both stayed in the moment, wishing they could stay like this forever. 

But once the helicopter scoured every inch part of Gotham, it was time to descend back onto the landing pad. 

Bruce helped Demetria off the helicopter. Her eyes shifted to the once empty ballroom which was now filled with a large crowd inside staring at her. Her chest grew heavy, palms sweating.

“They’re staring at us,” she told Bruce. 

He took her hand. “They see how you beautiful you look”. He gave it squeeze. “Remember, I’ve got you.” 

She nodded and exhaled softly as the two made their way inside. 

She followed him as the door opened to the gala room. All eyes stayed on them. She flashed a closed mouth smile at partygoers until her eyes met Harvey’s. It wasn’t until his familiar, warm smile that hers became more genuine and honest. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Bruce announced. “Glad you started without us!” He let go of Demetria’s hand, clapping his together. “Where's Rachel?!”

Demetria eye’s turned to Rachel, who cringed slightly. 

Bruce motioned to her. “Rachel Dawes- my oldest friend. When she told me she was dating Harvey Dent, I had one thing to say... ‘the guy from those god-awful campaign commercials? 'I Believe in Harvey Dent?' Nice slogan, Harvey.” 

As the crowd chuckled, Demetria’s smile faltered even more. She was thrown off by the Bruce that was speaking. It was like the second his hand left hers, he’d become another man. He’d become like everyone else in the crowd - pompous and slightly arrogance.

He’s putting on a show for them, she thought to herself. This is not the real him.

“Certainly caught Rachel's attention,” Bruce went on. “But then I started paying attention to Harvey, and all he's been doing as our new D.A., and you know what? I believe in Harvey Dent. On his watch, Gotham can feel a little safer. A little more optimistic. But what he’s done for Gotham isn’t just the only good thing Harvey Dent has done.”

He then shifted his tone and his gaze, now looking at Demetria who’s heart dropped to her stomach. 

“Harvey convinced his good friend from college, Demetria Gallagher, to move to Gotham,” Bruce continued, smiling at her. “It’s because of Harvey and Rachel that I was introduced to the love of my life.” 

The crowd let out a collective “aw” as Demetria gave him a small smile.

“I spent years thinking I’d never find the ‘one’.” He turned back to the crowd. “I figured if I’m never gonna find her, why not have some fun? And I did.”

The crowd laughed. Demetria rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“Then I ran into Rachel having a lunch with this beautiful woman and I couldn’t help myself. I asked her three times to have dinner with me.” Bruce shifted his attention to Demetria, taking her hand in his. “While I will never know who or what convinced you to say ‘yes’, all I know is that from the moment I left that dinner, I knew this witty, kind, beautiful woman was who I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Demetria, to say you are my heart and my soul is simply not enough. There will never be enough words or adjectives or uses of symbolism to describe how much you mean to me and how happy you make me. I love you more than anything.”

The crowd, once again, “awed” as he pecked Demetria’s cheek. He then grabbed two glasses of champagne off the server’s tray, handing one to Demetria. He then  turned back to the crowd, raising his glass. “To-.” 

“I just want to say something really quickly,” Demetria spoke up, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “If that’s, ok?”

Bruce smiled, her sudden burst of confidence bringing him pride. “By all means.”

She turned to the crowd. “You all know Harvey as your DA, but I know him as  my confidant, my greatest friend, and above all, my family. He’s also my get out of jail free card, but that’s neither here nor there.”

Everyone laughed as Harvey shook his head. Demetria turned to her best friend, her smile fading a bit. 

“Harvey, you’re selflessness and dedication to making Gotham City a safer one for its citizens is not just admirable, but also inspirational. You fight for the voiceless, the scared, and for those who want to make their home a better place. You’re one of the reasons Gotham has a brighter future.”

“So get out your checkbooks and let's make sure that he stays right where all of Gotham wants him,” Bruce toasted. “All except Gotham's criminals, of course. To the face of Gotham's bright future- Harvey Dent.” 

Everyone toasted and took a sip of their champagne.

As the crowd went back to their party, Bruce turned to Demetria.

“I’m going to go outside for a bit,” he told her, pecking her cheek. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

She opened her mouth to protest but it was too late - he’d wandered off. She sighed, wondering how he could he just leave her to fend for herself at their first gala together. She took a sip of her champagne, giving up and giving in to the situation at hand.  

“You’re a very lucky woman,” an elderly woman marveled. “And quite adorable. I bet Martha would’ve loved you.”

“Thank you, that’s so kind,” Demetria remarked. “Were you a friend of hers?”

“We were both on the chair for many charities. Such a wonderful woman. If you’re interested, I would love to bring you aboard some of them and get you acquainted.”

“I would love that! I’m actually working with the boy’s home and helping them with renovations and whatnot.”

“How wonderful!”

“I’ve also expressed interest in helping them with schooling and whatnot.” 

The gleam in the woman’s eyes softened. “Oh...really, now?” 

“Yeah, I would love to do some teaching.” 

“She’s going to do a fantastic job,” Harvey remarked, chiming in. He threw his hand around Demetria’s shoulders. “Those kids are going to be well looked after thanks to her.”

“I don’t doubt that,” the woman agreed before walking off. 

Demetria turned to Harvey. “I think she realized I wasn’t one of them.” 

“Who cares?” he shrugged. “But forgetting that, you’re seriously going to become a teacher?” 

“I brought it up to Monsignor O’Malley about the possibility of teaching English. Besides, it would give me something to do that I actually like. You know, talking to them about novels and what it means to express yourself in your writing.” 

“That’s fantastic!” Harvey remarked. “You would be perfect for that.” 

“I hope so. How are you handling this...whatever it is?” 

He sighed. “I’m...just here. How about you?” 

“I wanna go into my bedroom and go under the covers and wait til’ everyone leaves.” 

“Well for what it’s worth, you look beautiful tonight.” 

“I’m working with what I’ve got.”

“Bruce is very lucky.”

“Yeah, he should be. But he decided to give up on the party.” 

Harvey furrowed his eyebrows as Demetria motioned her head to the outside. He then turned his head, the two watching Bruce and Rachel engage in what appeared to be an intense conversation. 

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Demetria wondered aloud. 

He quickly glanced over and took a look sip of his champagne. “Probably nothing.”

Her lips curved into a smirk as she eyed Harvey. “Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re getting defensive.”

“And you’re annoying me.”

“After that heartfelt speech I gave, that’s the thanks I get?” 

“It was alright.” 

She punched him in the shoulder, causing him to cringe. “Asshole. I gave a beautiful speech.”

He rubbed his shoulder. “Well, hopefully it will be just a nice ad one you’ll give at my wedding.” 

Her eyes widened. “Shut the fuck up. You proposed to Rachel?” 

“Not yet. I’m planning to.” 

Her mouth hung open as she leaned in close. “Holy shit, dude! When?!” 

“Well first there are some things I gotta-.”

“So you two are friends, yes?” another female guest inquired, cutting him off. Her arm was linked with a man who looked at least 20 years older than she did.

Harvey and Demetria turned to her. “We most certainly are,” Demetria agreed, pinching his cheek. 

“So how long ago did you two date?” one man remarked, chuckling. 

Harvey and Demetria’s eyes went wide.

“We never have,” Harvey answered.

The man elbowed Harvey, laughing. “Aw, c’mon son. It’s alright.” 

“He’s basically my brother,” Demetria said. 

The man shook his head as he and his concerned date turned away. Demetria and Harvey turned to each other.

“Oh my god these people suck,” she giggled to Harvey. “At least they’ll fund you.”

“Yeah, I could give a shit,” he retorted. 

“Mind if I steal him for a bit?” Rachel asked, chiming in. 

“By all means,” Demetria motioned. 

Harvey and Rachel went off when Demetria  noticed Bruce still standing outside. She made her way out.

“Doing ok there?”

Bruce turned to her, smiling. “So far, so good.” 

“I love you but you’re not the best liar,” she chuckled, her fingers gently combing his hair. “Babe, if you want to leave, say the word and we’ll sneak out. We can go anywhere.” 

“Tempting,” he remarked, smirking. “Where do you propose we go?” 

She cocked her head back, shoulders shrugging. “Anywhere. We could literally get in a car and go anywhere we want.” She paused. “Anywhere you want.” 

Bruce’s body turned to face her, giving her his full undivided attention. She set her glass down on the railing. 

“While I think it’s sweet that you threw this for Harvey, I don’t want to be alone in a room with people I don’t know let alone give a shit about. I would rather be with you in the middle of nowhere where we don’t have to pretend we’re people that we’re not.”

His smile faltered, his eyes going to the ground. Demeteria shoulders tightened, fear creeping into her now uneasy stomach.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “What did I do?” 

He shook his head. “No, you did nothing wrong. It’s...” He sighed. “I never want to keep anything from you.” 

“What have you been keeping from me?” she questioned, her voice low 

He scanned the area as well as the inside of the ballroom. Realizing he wasn’t the safest, let alone most secure place, he leaned closer toward her. “I’ll go in the bedroom and grab a couple things. Go tell Alfred we’re heading out. We’ll meet at the elevator, alright?” 

“Bruce-.” 

He kissed her cheek and made his way inside. Bruce pushed through the crowd, fielding attempts of conversation from partygoers. She threw her hands up in defeat as an annoyed exhale left her mouth. 

“At least we’re leaving,” she muttered under her breath.

========================================================

In their bedroom, Bruce grabbed a set of keys for one of the cars from his safe in their closet. Realizing it was probably best to bring her anxiety med, he went into the medicine cabinet only to find it wasn’t there. 

He then remembered her saying she always kept it in the drawer in her nightside table. 

Figuring she put it back, he went over to it and opened the drawer and there it was. When he pulled it out, he noticed an envelope underneath with ‘For Batman’ written on it. 

He quickly glanced back at the door to make sure the door was closed. He then set down the bag and opened the envelope to find a handwritten letter.

My Night Friend ,

There’s something you need to know about that viral video of the copycat. 

I recognize the kitchen in the video. It’s the Fatted Calf on East 28th. A guy I briefly saw in college worked there and I hung out with him in the kitchen while he was closing up the shop. 

What people don’t know is that there’s a secret room. The guy told me the owner had it made to be used as a bomb shelter back in the day. It’s located right beside the freezer. If you can get into the boss’ office, there’s a special key inside a safe that can open the door. The Joker may be taking shelter in there. 

Take what you will with this information. I hope it serves you well.

Sincerely,

Your Rooftop Friend 

Bruce’s couldn’t believe what he was reading. His fiancé, the love of his life, was helping the Batman. The severity of the situation as well as time the huge piece of information made him realize he needed to get both of them out of the penthouse and into the Batcave. He could explain everything to her there. 

Shoving the letter into the bag, he zipped it up and made his way to the door when something on the security camera screen made him stop. 

It was The Joker followed by some henchmen. 

He threw the bag in the closet hurriedly, closing the door, and made his way to the party. Seeing Harvey Dent close by talking to Rachel, he figured he’d had enough time to get Harvey to safety and then grab Demetria. 

He came up behind Harvey, putting Harvey in a headlock as Rachel’s eyes widened in fear. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” she exclaimed. 

“They’re coming for him,” Bruce said, using his Batman voice. “Go grab her and get yourselves to safety.”

========================================================

Demetria spotted Alfred near the wall area. She made her way over, catching the old man’s attention. 

“There you Miss Gallagher,” he greeted. “Are you having fun?”

“I feel like a zoo animal. I’ve had more people stare at me than actually talk to me. Anyway, Bruce and I are heading out.” 

Alfred chuckled. “You and Master Wayne are a truly perfect fit.” 

She eyed the room before leaning closer toward Alfred. “Alfred, he said he had something he’d been meaning to tell me. Any idea what it could be?” 

Just then, the sound of a single gunshot silence the room. Everyone turned, including Demetria and Alfred, to see The Joker, the man from the video, enter the ballroom with his posse of men behind him wearing clown masks. 

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” he greeted in a sing-song voice. 

His posse pointed guns at the crowd, a silent order to step back. The crowd formed a circle around The Joker. 

Alfred, who was a few rows behind the crowd, stood in front of Demetria. 

“Stay behind me,” he whispered to her. 

She watched from behind his shoulder. 

The sound of tray hitting the ground, broke the silence. The Joker looked back for a moment before turning back to the crowd. 

“We are...tonight’s entertainment.” He grabbed a piece of shrimp from a table, stuffing it into his mouth. He looked around. “Only one question - where is Harvey Dent?”

He eyed around, pointing the gun at a group of women before ripping one of their glasses of champagne from their hands and taking a swig of it. He set back on the table and began questioning those he passed, occasionally grabbing at them. 

“You know where Harvey is? Do you know who he is?”

He squeezed one guy’s cheek. “Do you know where Harvey is? I need to talk to him about something. Something little.” 

He went up to an old white man. “You know I’ll settle for his loved ones.” 

Meanwhile, Demetria felt someone grab her hand. She turned to find Rachel. 

“We need to get you out of here,” Rachel whispered. 

Demetria went to follow Rachel when she felt someone grab her hand. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, sweetcheeks?” one of the masked men retorted. 

He grabbed Demetria, despite her attempts to break free. Her heart rate quickened, stomach growing weak as the man pushed her in front of the crowd. 

“Hey boss!” He called out. “It’s her!”

The Joker turned to her, his fixation on her making her blood run cold. She stood frozen and helpless. He got into her face. “So this is the future Mrs. Wayne. You’re also Harvey Dent’s best friend.” 

He grabbed Demetria’s face, cradling it forcefully. 

“Harvey is your best friend, isn’t he? Your buddy ol pal?” He let out a vicious cackle. “Possibly an old lover? An unrequited love? Either way, you’re somewhat of an asset to him.”

She moved her eyes, looking around as the crowd watched her in fear.

“C'mere, look at me.” 

She whimpered, closing her eyes. 

He tightened his grip on her hair “LOOK AT ME!” 

She yelped, opening her eyes as tears filled to the brim.

“Please,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh shh, shh, shh,” he hushed her teasingly. “Well you look upset.” He asked, pointing to scars on his mouth with his knife. “Is it these? Is it the scars? You wanna know how I got ‘em?”

She didn’t have time to answer, at least he didn’t bother to give her a chance to. She went to move her head when he grabbed her again. “Hey, look at me.”

She stopped moving, her eyes on him. “So, I had a wife, who was beautiful...like you, who tells me I worry too much, who tells me I oughta smile more, who gambles and gets in deep with the sharks.” 

She squirmed when The Joker pulled her back. “One day they carve her face. And we got no money for surgeries. She can't take it. I just want to see her smile again. Hmm? I just wanted to let her know that I don't care about the scars. So, I stick a razor in my mouth and do this to myself. ”

She squeaked, frightened as he put the knife to his scars. 

“And you know what? She can't stand the sight of me! She leaves! Now I see the funny side. Now, I'm always smiling!” 

He pulled her back, took the knife, and slashed her forearm, the sharp stinging, sensation causing her to let out a blood curdling scream.  She collapsed onto the ground, blood spilling down her arm and onto the marble floor. 

Demetria couldn’t move, her body frozen, mind unable to process what had just happened. She opened her mouth to speak, her chest stinging in pain and her head growing lightheaded as the Joker stepped on her bleeding arm.

“Please help me,” she begged in between her hyperventilating. “Please...I’m...I can’t...help!”

“Why doesn’t Harvey Dent come save his best friend?!” The Joker called out.

“Let her go!”

Rachel made her way. The Joker stomped on Demetria’s arm one last time.

Alfred rushed to her side. “Deep breaths, Miss,” he whispered. “Deep breaths.” 

“Alfred...I’m gonna....don’t let me...” 

“You’re going to be alright.” 

“Step back!” one of the masked henchman ordered, pointing a gun at Alfred. 

Alfred held up his hands stepping back from Demetria. The henchman walked away as Demetria continued to hyperventilate. 

She was going to die in front of everyone. Her vision became blurry, her breath uncontrollable. She watched in what she thought would be her final moments Batman attack The Joker. 

In and out of blackness, she heard glass shatter followed by footsteps. 

Tears strolled down her face as she struggled to breathe, trying to hold on to whatever breath she had left, her body shivering. Alfred rushed to her once again.

“Don’t just stand there!” he cried out. “Someone call a bloody ambulance!” 

He gave Demetria his hand, which she held onto tightly. 

“Stay with me,” he told her. “Stay with me.” 

But she wasn’t sure how long she could last. Between the chest pains and the pains from her wound and the light-headedness, she was barely holding on. 

How badly she wanted to see Bruce....and how could he leave her like this?

__________________________________________________________________

Dress: 

Hair/Makeup:

[redhoodssweetheart]

Star-Crossed Lovers Part Three

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes @onfir3​ and @sarcasmismyfirstlove

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Reader has an assumed name in this (she is not named, but she goes by Sophia Turner since she is in hiding)

Description:  Secrets are unveiled and Y/N is smacked in the face with a truth she hadn’t expected to find out.

A/N:  Okay first off, I have no idea how long this story is going to be.  It could have one more part, two more parts or more.  I am legit addicted to this story now.  Also the ending may have a sad and a happy version.  One for people who want a happily ever after and those who want to read a sad ending.  Or maybe you’ll want to read both who knows.  But I hope you enjoy this installment of Star-Crossed Lovers.  The song that the singers are singing is Ain’t About You by Wonho featuring Kiiara

Her keys jingled as she fished them out of her pocket.  Clark’s plants were not on the verge of death and she had considered her mission a success.  As she stepped inside the apartment she flipped on the lights and nearly jumped out of her skin when she noticed the dark figure in the corner of her living room.  

“Holy shit,” she gripped her hand to her chest.  Her heart was pounding, but it was starting to calm down now that she realized it was Batman in her apartment and not Sionis.

“Y/N,” he said in his gruff way.  “I have news.”

“Please tell me that Sionis is officially dead,” she didn’t want to hear anything else, but she had a feeling that that wasn’t why he was here.

The way his jaw locked only confirmed her suspicions.  “He’s still alive,” Batman confirmed.  “And he’s using someone at LexCorp to up his drugs.  The effects give the user temporary powers like Superman and Superboy’s.  It’s not on the street yet, but soon.  And Sionis knows you’re not dead.  As far as I’m aware he doesn’t know you're here.”  He reached into one of his compartments and pulled out an envelope.  “I’ve secured you a ticket to a fundraiser tomorrow night that Wayne Enterprises and LexCorp are throwing.  It’s a masquerade ball, I need you to tell me if you see anyone familiar there.  Anyone that was working with or for Sionis.  We need to know who’s supplying him.”

She took the invitation, “Fine.  Where will I meet you?”

“I’ll find you,” then he was disappearing out the window and into the night.

The dress she had picked out was red, with a thigh high slit and a mask to match.  The dress was silk, the light reflecting off it.  She felt sexy and yeah she chose red for one reason and one reason only.

God, she had to get over him.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, but no one stuck out besides the Waynes, Lex, and a few other high society members.  She didn’t like how this mission was going so far.  And when she scanned the crowd again she noticed one of the Wayne boys staring her way.  She quickly ducked into a crowd and hoped not to draw any more attention.  She wasn’t the only one wearing red so she wouldn’t stand out like a sore thumb.

“Does it sound cliché to say / That I just need some space babe / It’s not you, it’s me really, uh,” the male singer began to sing into his mic.  “I’m the one that changed umm / You’re so hard to resist / A love that hurt like this / I wish it wasn’t hell / To love you more than you love yourself.”

“I don’t believe I know your name,” a husky male voice said beside Y/N and when she looked up she saw that it was the Wayne boy that had been staring at her.  

“And who says I’m going to give it to you?”  She fired back, a smirk beginning to form.

He matched her smirk, “You’re a beautiful woman, it’s a ball, I thought I’d ask you to dance with me, but I’d like to know your name first.”

She considered him for a moment and then said, “I’ll give you the dance, but you haven’t earned my name yet, stranger.”

“I see I caught your eye, again / Your pretty little lies / Wish I could stroke your big ego / But sorry not tonight, or ever / You’re so hard to resist / A love that hurt like this / I wish it wasn’t hell / To love you more than you love yourself,” the female singer sang in response to her male counterpart as the Wayne boy led her onto the dance floor.

He swept Y/N into his arms and began to twirl her around with expert ease.  Money could buy a lot of things and dance lessons was probably one of those things.  She wondered if it had been his choice or if Bruce Wayne had made it mandatory.  “So what’re you doing at the ball?  I normally know the people that frequent these,” he said as he dipped her, their faces inches from one another.

She cocked her head to the side as he slowly brought her back to an upright position, “Because you’re a Wayne?”  

He chuckled, “Maybe.”

“I work for the Daily Planet, I’m working on a story,” she said.  A half-truth, but not a complete lie.

Those blue eyes of his were starting to look familiar like she had seen them before. She wondered if he was the man she had bumped into on the street the other day, but she wasn’t about to ask him that.  And right now those very eyes were bright with mischief.  “Oh?  Looking for any sordid secrets of the lifestyle of the rich and famous because I could provide.  I know dirt on everyone here.”

“No sordid secrets for me tonight,” she said, she didn’t want to know what those sordid secrets would cost her if he were to tell her what he knew.  “I’m just covering the event.”  She had learned from articles that the Waynes and Luthor were trying to raise money for people displaced by superhero activity.  Homes that had been destroyed or other places like schools and work.

“How you stay out til 4 am / How you can’t tell me where you’ve been / Go and get that shit out your head / This ain’t about youuuuu / This ain’t about youuuuu / This ain’t about / Hate to tell you but / Hate to tell you but / This ain’t about you / This ain’t about you,” the singers sang, the song coming to a close.

The stranger still held her in his arms after the song had ended, “Have I earned the right to know your name or am I going to have to make one up for you?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours?”  She fired back.

“Deal.”

“Sophia Turner,” the lie slipped off her tongue, but it felt odd to tell him this name.  She had no idea why, she didn’t even know him other than the fact that he was a Wayne.  “But most call me Sophie.”

“Jason Todd,” he supplied in return.

“Oh so I was dancing with the resident bad boy of the Waynes,” she hummed.  “Let me guess you flash those pretty blue eyes at whoever you want and you can get out of any situation?”

“Not quite, but you think they’re pretty?”  His grin was turning cocky and you pushed away from him.

“Down boy,” she said.  “I’m… well I’m….”  She sighed, “It’s complicated.”

He started walking beside her as she turned to flee from the event, “I’m a great listener, you could tell me all your boy problems.”

“No tonight lover boy, I need to go anyway,” she had gotten all the information she could for Batman.  She hadn’t seen anyone there that could be working with or for Sionis, the whole night had been a bust.  Fun, but a bust.

“I’ll find you, Cinderella,” he called out to her as she made her way through the crowd not once glancing back at him.

The night after coming home Y/N grabbed some ice cream out of the fridge and waited for Batman.  When he showed up she told him that she didn’t know anyone there; he thanked her and promised to keep her updated with anything about Sionis.  But for now, she should stay where she was and lie low because Metropolis was the safest place for her. Before she could thank him he was gone.

Now it was Monday and she was at work.  Lois greeted her and was smiling broadly, “Someone got a gift.”

Y/N’s attention turned to her desk where a bouquet of red roses sat.  She blinked a couple of times because she didn’t believe that anyone would leave her flowers.  “Who sent them?”  She asked to no one in particular as she made her way to her desk, Lois still beside her.  She picked the card and saw that there was a handwritten note.

Cinderella,

I think it’s rude that you didn’t leave a shoe for me to return to you.  I’d like to see you again.  Meet me tonight at the top of the Daily Planet, seven o’clock?

Jason Todd

“Sophie!  Did you run out on Jason Todd last night?” Lois gasped.  Since the moment the two of them had met Lois had been trying to set her up.  In her own words, she was trying to ‘help you get over the man who you clearly hurt you’.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I didn’t run out on him like Cinderella, he knows my name and where I work.  I just needed to get home.”

“Are you going to meet him tonight?”  She asked, a smile on her face that suggested she wanted you to meet with him.

She gave her friend a look, “I don’t know, Lois.  I’m busy and I have other things that I need to do.”  Getting involved with a Wayne was dangerous.  They were always in the spotlight and Jason especially since he was the most mysterious of the bunch.  He attracted a camera like honey drew flies.

“Just go, see what he wants, have a little fun.  Lord knows you could use it,” Lois squeezed Y/N’s shoulder and headed for her own desk.

Y/N looked at those red roses again and let out a sigh.  One visit with Jason wouldn’t hurt.

Metropolis was nice, but Jason preferred the grittiness of Gotham.  There was something real about it, it wasn’t hiding that there was bad stuff going on.  Metropolis on the other hand was sleek and new.  Superman gave them hope and offered a shiny new take that life could be good.  He always felt like he stuck out in Metropolis, even when he was in the Robin or Red Hood uniforms.  You could tell that he didn’t belong.

The door to the roof opened and he heard her heels against the concrete.  “Flowers?  Really?”

He turned and grinned at her, getting an unencumbered view of her face for the first time in months.  She was still as beautiful as the first day he had met her.

“Well I thought about sending a candy gram, but I didn’t think that would be appreciated,” he quipped. 

She chuckled and came to stand beside him, her gaze fixed on the city beyond.  “It’s almost too perfect,” she murmured, mirroring Jason’s earlier thoughts.  “Unlike Gotham--”  She clamped her mouth shut.

“Oh, you know Gotham?”  His gaze was still locked on her face, trying to recommit everything to memory.  She had changed a little bit about herself when she went into hiding, but it was still her.  Still his Y/N.

“Yeah,” she said quietly.  “I grew up there.  Moved away a while ago.  Needed a change of pace.”  Lie. Lie. Lie.  She hadn’t wanted to leave Gotham.  She wanted nothing more than to stay, but circumstances and fate had other ideas.

Jason finally mirrored her position, “I get that.  I moved away for a bit myself.”

“Didn’t you fake your death?”  The question slipped out before she could stop it.  “Sorry, that’s a little too personal.  It’s the journalist in me, feel free to ignore it.”  She wanted to smack herself, but he huffed a laugh and she finally looked at him.  There was something so familiar about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“It’s all right,” he said softly to let her know he wasn’t upset by her question.  “And the answer is it’s complicated.  Very, very complicated.”

“I know all about complicated,” she told him.  “At this point, I think it’s my middle name.”

“Sophia Complicated Turner, huh?”  He held out his hand to her, “I’m Jason Peter Todd.”

That made her laugh, “Are you always this corny?”

“There’s more to me than the bad boy the papers like to see, Sophia.”  He hated using that name.  He wanted to call her Y/N, he wanted to tell her everything, but he held his tongue.  

She bumped him with her shoulder, “I can tell.”

Warmth spread through him and he went to respond when a breeze blew by and she shivered.  “Here,” he draped his jacket over her shoulders.  “Why aren’t you wearing a better jacket?”  He asked like a mother hen.  “You live here and even I knew to come prepared.”

Y/N stood there frozen for a moment before gently wrapping the leather jacket closer around her and breathing in the scent of him.  Cigarettes and a familiar aftershave, a combination she had come to know as home.  Though she had tried to get him to quit smoking.  Jason’s jacket smelled like Red and she stiffened even more when the thought crossed her mind.  Red had died once too.  Red would have made similar jokes.  She looked closely at Jason, really taking him in, and there on his lip was a little scar in the same place that Red had a scar.  Then the mole on his neck, and another scar she had kissed over a hundred times.  

Y/N backed away, her breath coming out in shallow pants.  Her mind was running a mile a minute, it couldn’t be.  “I need to go,” she finally managed to say.

“Sophia?”  He asked in concern and God she couldn’t get it out of her head how he was Red.  Jason was the Red Hood.

“Goodnight,” she dashed for the door, his jacket still wrapped around her.

Once she had made it to her apartment, Batman was there.  Still in the city chasing down leads, and probably coming to ask for another favor.  The ball.  Bruce Wayne being in the city.  Everything was clicking in place.  “Call Red here,” she said before he could speak.  “I want to see him.”

“Red isn’t here, Y/N,” Batman said calmly.

“Oh isn’t he?”  She spat.  “I’m pretty sure I just left him on the roof of the Daily Planet.”  She tossed the jacket at him.  “Bruce.”

There was a moment of hesitation, but Batman - or Bruce - pulled the cowl down and revealed his true identity to her.  “How did you figure it out?”

“I’m an investigative journalist, Bruce.  Give me some credit,” she scoffed.  “If anyone looked hard enough I’m sure they could figure it out.”  She sat down on her couch and buried her face in her hands.  “Fuck, I’m so tired.”

Bruce wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, but he summoned Jason, not telling him that Y/N knew the truth.  He would wait for that bomb to be dropped by the woman herself.  “I’m sorry if we’re causing you this stress, Y/N.”

She waved a dismissive hand, “Please, I’ve been stressed since the moment Sionis ruined my life.  I knew that that plan of ours was a fifty-fifty shot at freedom.  I’ll be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life if I’m lucky.”

A moment later Red Hood entered through your window and you just looked at him.  And for a moment your times together flashed before your eyes.  “Y/N,” he said, his voice in that robotic monotone.  

“Jason,” she responded.  “Why don’t you sit down?  We’ve got a lot to discuss you and I.”

[watchtower-feed]

Waynesitter and Favorites

Notes: Oh hey an actual fic this time. I’ve been feeling under the weather for the past few days and DDWP part 11 is heavy on the heart so I can’t do it in one sitting. Is that a spoiler or a teaser? Anyway, here’s something light for now. Words: 2,085

     “Okay, but who’s your favorite?”

     They've been asking you this for a long time now. You’ve been expertly dodging their questions but even Damian has started to be persistent that you’re finding it harder and harder to just say, “I hate all of you, let’s start there.”

     “Jason.”

     Cass answers suddenly which catches the attention of the whole room. Jason stares at her as a growing blush slowly covers his whole face.

     “Wait.” Dick is visibly flabbergasted but more upset. He points a finger at Cass, “Is that Y/N’s answer or-“

     “Mine,” she answers with a smile.

     “Why?” Tim asks, sounding skeptical and a little outraged.

     Cass places a finger below her lips and looks up, listing things in her head for a moment. Jason is the easy choice for her. She knows that when death comes knocking for one of them, he won’t bat an eyelid to kill the harbinger. Cass needs that. She needs someone to do what she can’t do.

     There are other reasons, too, smaller ones. Like how Jason is a brute but he’s tender when he’s applying first aid on her wounds. How he quotes books she’s never read. How he sings while he cooks.

     “Because he’s the most handsome,” she teases and you’re already hating her for the chaos that ensues.

     If you think Dick was offended before, now he looks like Cass just stepped on his grave. “Lies,” he hisses.

     Cass snickers which eggs him even more. Tim’s frowning when looks to you, “I always thought I was her favorite…” he says trying to sound nonchalant but failing.

     “Tim,” you look at him with a straight gaze, “If I had a daughter, you’re the only one I would introduce her to.” Tim practically straightens his body in joy. You point your finger at him and wink, “So you better make sure you get her into an Ivy League.”

     Tim rolls his eyes and groans. 

     You chuckle. You weren’t lying though. Tim is the most dependable and responsible out of everyone in the manor. He’s not great at taking care of himself, God knows he goes days without sleeping and won’t notice until he passes out, but whenever he sees someone injured or just plain exhausted, he goes into full big brother mode.

     “I knew it! You just want me for my brains.”

     “At least you get Y/N’s daughter! Cass won’t even acknowledge that I’m the most fun and loving brother!” Dick quickly turns to Jason with the distaste of a childhood rival, “You’ve been quiet. You must feel so smug right now.”

     Jason pretends to inspect his cuticles, “What was that? I can’t hear you over all the handsomeness I’m emitting.”

     Someone tugs on your sleeve and you see Damian sitting next to you now. He half covers his mouth to whisper something to you, “I know I’m your favorite.”

     You twitch a little, “Really? How so?”

     “You always see me last before you leave.”

     Half true. Damian is the only one living at the manor full time so you always see him. He’s also still a child so you always have to check on him before you leave, making sure he’s still on the property and not out of the country without Bruce’s knowledge like that one time—

     “I also overheard you talking to Alfred.”

     Okay. Guilty. Whenever Alfred comes back early, he asks you how you are and you would always go into these rants about everything they did. You love them as much as you hate them but ever since you first met Damian, you’ve always had a soft spot for him, so everything he does is almost endearing to you.

     He was in the garden with the dog when Lucius first dropped you off at the manor. You watched this stern little kid try to talk the dog into sitting down, gesturing the proper movement for the action, and staring Titus down like a boarding school principal.

     But Titus did sit down and the wide and bright smile on Damian was too precious. He was beaming so hard that for a second there he lost his composure. You knew right then and there that this kid deserves more love than he can handle.

     You place your finger on your lips and whisper, “Don’t tell them.”

     “What’s this?” Jason calls out loudly, “Damian and Y/N are conspiring with each other.”

     “It’s none of your business, Todd.”

     “You’re bribing her, aren’t you?”

     “Jason, you already have Cass. Stop being so greedy,” Dick replies, obviously still wounded. 

     “Who’s your favorite?” Cass suddenly asks him. You almost want to hug her. Of course, the best way to nurse an emotionally hurting Dick Grayson is by giving him the upperhand.

     Dick is already grinning as his eyes sweep around the room. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

     “That’s why she asked, Dick,” Tim answers, almost bored of this topic.

     “We don’t wanna know,” Jason adds.

     “No. No. I’ll tell you.” He looks around, taking in the suspense that was slowly building. “It’s…” Dick takes his time looking at all of you.

     “Any day, Richard,” you mock.

     “You know what?” Dick crosses his arms and pretends to be hurt but the grin on his face is giving him away. “I don’t want to tell you.”

     Jason groans and Tim just rests his head on the back of the sofa. You and Cass smile because it’s such a typical Dick thing to do, and it finally got everyone off your back.

     “Have you all gone deaf?” Alfred pokes his head under the living room doorway. “I’ve been calling the lot of you for dinner for 5 minutes. Even master Bruce is already at the table.”

     “Bruce!” everyone simultaneously yells out. Cass and the boys leap over the couch to get to the dining room, surprising and angering Alfred as they pass him.

     “Goodness-- It’s like living with wild animals.”

     “I’ve been telling you that since my first day!” you whine as you walk to the dining room.

     Alfred grins at you, “We both know you’ve grown fond of them.”

     As you get closer, their riotous goating of Bruce got louder.

     “Come on, Bruce! You can’t not have a favorite!”

     “The moment you tell us it’s not Dick, then we’ll be happy.”

     “Stuff you, Jason. Just because you’re definitely not in the running doesn’t mean you can drag me down.”

     “You’re all wasting your breath. Of course, I’m his favorite. I’m his real son.”

     The room suddenly goes quiet. This was the worst time to enter. Cass, Tim, Jason, and Dick are staring at Damian, and then they roll their eyes and fill the room with a collective ‘oooh’.

     “Look at me! I’m Damian! I’m his son!” Jason sways his hips as he mocks.

     “Look, I have my father’s eyebrows,” teases Dick.

     “Being his son means he’s obligated to love you, you know.”

     “Shut up, Drake!”

     Bruce turns to you and you’ve never seen so many worry lines on the cool and collected millionaire until this moment. He’s practically begging you to help him. “Um,” you say out loud, trying to drown their voices, “Cass is definitely the best girl here!”

     They all turn to you. Alfred leaves you to sit at the table with the rest of them. Traitor you almost want to mutter. He gives you a look saying good luck because you’re digging your own grave.

     “I mean, isn’t she though?” You walk over to Cass and hug her from behind. “If you guys ever got caught, like really caught, and I mean like you can’t fight your way out, or your talk your way out, who would you call first?”

     The boys look at each other and think for a moment. Some of them nod and purse their lips. Cass holds onto your arms and turns to her side to kiss you on the cheek. You immediately smile and feel giddy that you lean your cheeks against each other. That was enough to calm everyone down because if anyone would dare ruin the moment none of them would be leaving the table alive.

     Dinner lasted longer than usual. You yawn as you walk to the door with Dick.

     “Want me to drop you off on my way to Bludhaven?”

     You nod quickly, “You’re an angel.” He chuckles but you quickly remember something. “One sec.”

     As soon as you go back into the house, Damian’s standing there. “You almost forgot me.”

     “I could never.” You lift Damian in your arms and carry him off to his room, an extraordinary milestone that took you a month to reach. 

     “You tired, Dami?” He’s nodding off against your shoulders but still manages to suppress a yawn. You enter his room and lay him down on his bed. “What are you doing tomorrow?” You always ask him. When Damian thinks about his plans for the next day, it seems to put him to sleep faster.

     He finally yawns, “I’m patrolling with father.”

     “And during the day?”

     “Training Goliath.”

     You flinch. You’ve seen Goliath and you vow to yourself to never go exploring in the caves again. “H-how fun…” you mutter. You brush his hair until he closes his eyes. “I’ll be back in two days, okay? Tell me about it then?”

     Damian lazily nods with his brows and turns to his side. You tuck in his blanket before you leave and head home.

     Eerily, the drive back to your apartment is quiet. You sneak a look at Dick and see a more serious expression on his face. You nudge him.

     “Hey! Driving here--”

     “Wanna know who Bruce’s favorite is?” you tease with half-lidded eyes.

     “Who is it?” you don’t answer so he takes a quick look at you and finds you raising your brows and smiling. He laughs, “No way!” then he stops, “Yes way? Are you serious?” You just smile at him and nod once. “I don’t believe you. How could you obtain such valuable information?”

     “When you take your suits off, you guys are a lot easier to read than you think.”

     “Gosh, Y/N. If you ever become a villain, you might just take over this town.”

     You shake your head at such a ridiculous notion. You hate crime-fighting and you hate crime even more. You suddenly punch Dick in the shoulder.

     “Ow!”

     “You better not tell your brothers!”

     He rubs his shoulders and looks at you, “Why would I? Is it true? Am I really Bruce’s favorite?” His grip on the wheels suddenly tightens and he looks like he’s ready to speed into the distance, “Jason is going to be so mad!” You shake your head and wonder how many hours you have to wait before you’re bombarded with group messages about this.

     “Oh hey, Y/N,” Dick pulls over outside your apartment building. “Guess who’s Alfred’s favorite?”

     Your attention is definitely piqued, “Who?”

     “I said guess.”

     “It’s not you, is it?” you narrow your eyes, suddenly feeling like this is just a narcissistic trap Dick has set up.

     He chuckles, “It used to be. But have you noticed how you get called to the manor even when he’s there?”

     You roll your eyes, “Have you met you? You guys are a serious handful!”

     Dick shakes his head, “No no. Listen. Alfred can handle us. He can handle us better than Bruce, let me tell you--” Dick pauses a little, “Alfred actually saw you at the office. You were scolding Lucius and when Bruce came to check on him as a backup, you scolded him, too.” Dick laughs.

     “Wait. What? What’s this? I don’t remember that. Come on, Dick. Stop laughing and tell the story properly!”

     “I don’t know,” he’s still laughing, “I forgot what it was about but Alfred was just impressed by how immune you were to their charms and how scared you made Bruce in a matter of seconds. Not an easy feat and you know that.”

     You narrow your eyes at Dick, “You’re the worst storyteller.” You unclasp your seatbelt and step out of the car. After walking around, you knock on the driver’s window and wait until he rolls down the window. “Thanks for the ride by the way.” 

     He salutes you. “Want me to pick you up in two days?”

     “No, I’m okay.”

     “Okay. I’ll pick you up.”

     Dick drives off before you can add another word. You glare at his sports car before you walk up to your building door. Before you even get the chance to slip your keys in, your phone vibrates in your pocket. “That little-”

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

[kelzebub]

Medicinal Herbs

So, I’m logging onto Tumblr on an actual computer for the first time so that I can post a fic inspired by @kaoticfive and the season two side mission where Sam is sick. Basically this is sick Sam on medical marijuana, and he’s a sensitive boi. 

TW for sickness, marijuana use, paranoia, non-graphic mention of vomiting, and a very slight allusion to nightmares. 

Spoilers: none that I spotted, let me know if I accidentally included any (Sam being sick is in the tagline to the mission it refers to). No spoilers for KaoticFive’s lovely fic But We Sing It Anyway that gave me this idea (go check that out if you haven’t already, it’s awesome.)

Hope you enjoy!

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“Five. Maxine needs you at the hospital.” Amber’s voice broke in to Five’s shallow sleep.

She sat up immediately. “Is Sam okay?” she asked.

Noting Five’s face had gone pale, Amber rushed to explain. “He’s fine. Well, um. He’s fine, but, well, he couldn’t keep anything down, and his fever was still high after taking paracetamol, so Maxine took him back to the hospital. We’re out of antiemetics, but Maxine was able to give him some marijuana for the nausea and, ah. He reacted to it pretty strongly.”

Tension visibly drained out of Five’s face and shoulders, and her lips twitched up a bit. “So, you’re telling me Sam needs a highsitter?”

“Yeah. And don’t tell Maxine, but Sam’s been begging for prawn crisps, if you happen to have any.”

Five snorted. “I don’t, but I’ll see what I can scrounge up,” she said. “Thanks. I’ll be there in a few.”

Fifteen minutes later, Five stood next to Maxine, who was gesturing helplessly to Sam… who was hiding under the hospital bed.

“I don’t want to leave him alone,” the doctor sighed, “but we’re shorthanded here and I can’t spare the time to sit with him. Thanks so much for coming, Five.” She patted Five’s shoulder as if to wish her luck, and was gone.

Five crossed the small room and crouched next to the bed, peering at Sam. His hoodie was pulled up over his face as he regarded her with mild suspicion.

“Hey, Sam. You alright?”

“Fine,” he replied with false nonchalance, “why do you ask?”

The runner bit her lip, caught between amusement and concern. “Why are you hiding under the bed?”

“’m not hiding. ‘s comfy down here is all,” he replied.

“Uh huh. Mind if I join you?”

“Permission to enter the Cave of… of… permission granted,” he said, his voice wavering between his Dragons and Darkness persona and his normal one.

“Thanks.” She slid down beside him, and they lay there in silence for a moment. Five could actually hear his heartbeat, pounding a little too fast. Fever heat was still radiating off him despite the medication. Dr. Myers said it wasn’t dangerously high, but you could have fooled Five. He was like a furnace.

“It’s really not very comfy down here,” Five offered after a couple of minutes. “I bet it’s much nicer on the bed.”

“I don’t want to fall off,” Sam murmured quietly, as if confession a deep, dark secret. “The mattress keeps moving.”

“Well, I’m here now. I can make sure you don’t fall off. Make sure the mattress stays still.”

Sam squinted at her. “Are you sure?” he asked doubtfully.

“Positive. Come on, up you go,” she said as she began tugging him out from under the bed. Sam tried to sit up too soon, whacking his head on the bottom of the bedframe.

“Ow! See, I told you!”

“Slide out first, dum-dum. Good thing you had your hood up over your head or you’d have a lump there.”

Together they maneuvered a woozy Sam onto the hospital cot, onto which he lowered himself as gingerly as if it were a trampoline full of bouncing schoolchildren.

“Maxy gave me marijuana,” he explained in a loud stage whisper. “For the puking.”

“I know. She told me. She also told me you had gotten paranoid ‘probably on account of combining weed, a fever, and a large sleep deficit.’ And speaking from experience, not eating for a while didn’t likely help. So I brought you something.” Five pulled a packet of hobnobs and a Schweppe’s from her bag. “Think you could eat a little? Have a drink?”

“Oooh, I’d better not. The puking. There was quite a lot of that. It was like, like the groundhog’s day movie, only instead of living the same day over and over again, I was just like, vomiting over and over again. I don’t think groundhogs vomit. Are they the same as prairie dogs?” He trailed off, frowning at the ceiling. “They must be related. Hey, Five?”

“Yeah, Sam?”

“If there are groundhogs.” He paused. “Are there skyhogs?” and he burst into giggles, which turned into a coughing fit, followed by a short spell of dry heaving.

What a total goofball, Five thought, rubbing his back. Adorable idiot. Belatedly, she realized she was grinning at him and schooled her expression. Get it together, Five,

“I think the weed should have helped enough to try a little ginger ale, to settle your stomach. Just a sip?”

“That sounds… amazing, actually,” Sam admitted. Five cracked open the can and handed it to him.

After a while, Sam had managed the entire can of ginger ale and a couple of hobnobs. His face lost some of the pallor underneath the fever flush.

“You should rest, Sam. You haven’t been sleeping much lately, have you?”

“Scared to,” he replied, so quietly she almost missed it.

Five felt something twinge inside her chest. Before she could reply, Sam’s expression brightened. “But what is there to be afraid of when the, the brave and mighty Runner Five is here to protect me? It’s like having my own personal superhero!”

Five smirked. “With my super power of running at a normal pace for a regular human, sure,” she said. “I’ll protect you.”

“Leeloo Dallas, multipass.”

“…what?”

“That’s what she said to Corbin Dallas. Well, she said ‘me protect you.’ But it was like, her first day of being alive, you can’t hold bad grammar against her.”

Five was nonplussed. “The Fifth Element! Tell me you’ve seen the Fifth Element. With Bruce Willis and Mila Jovovich?”

“Uh, no? Should I have?”

Sam stared at her, and it almost looked like his eyes were welling up with tears. Oh. They were welling up with tears.  “I can’t believe you haven’t seen the Fifth Element! And now you probably never will! This is horrible!”

“It’s okay, Sam, it’s okay! You can tell me the whole plot, alright? I bet your version is better than the original.”

“But you have to see it! Ruby Rod, and the Diva, and… “

“Sam. Lie back down. Go to sleep.”

It was some time before Sam did, in fact, fall asleep. A little while after that, Jody returned from a successful supply run with a packet of Tamiflu. When Maxine came in to give Sam his first dose, she wished she still had a phone with a camera on it.

Sam and Five were fast asleep, Five’s arms wound tightly around him, the blanket pulled over them both, and an empty packet of hobnobs on the bedside table. Sam snored rather loudly, and Five was drooling.

The medication could wait a little while. For now, Dr. Myers would let them rest. She was pretty sure Janine had a polaroid somewhere…

[fangirlinsweden]

Noticing ~ Part 10

Part 10 ~  Tired, dictionary and Halloween (October)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: Swearing, frustrating Steve, kind of angsty sometimes.

Wordcount: About 2500 words

Summary:  Y/N is in love with Steve, but she is afraid to tell him. So she tries to show him by using Cheesy Pickup lines. Will he ever notice her?

A/N: This is written for @buckysmischief​  Gab’ s 1k writing challenge.

This takes place after Endgame, But Steve did not leave the future. Nat and Tony are still alive.

Almost all pickup-lines are lines I have found on the internet. Some I have adjusted a bit to fit the storyline more.

It was at the beginning of October and you were walking to the gym in the morning not quite awake yet. Nat had insisted on your training early. You meet Steve at the door to the gym and you walk smack into his chest. You are about to land on the floor when Steve takes a hold of you. “Sorry Sweetheart,” Steve smiles at you. "You're the bee's knees, Captain,” is all that you can get out. Because meeting Steve when you were not expecting and feeling like a zombie. And Steve was wearing a pair of shorts and a tight t-shirt that made your head spin. Steve throws his head back laughing. You blush and bite your lip. He wished you a good walk out and walks away from you. You look at his ass as he walked away. Then you turn around to walk into the gym only to find Peter standing behind you. His gaze on you makes you blush.  “Are you flirting with Captain America,” Peter asked you. A question you wanted to avoid.  “No..” you say then you sigh again. “Yes, okay. I am flirting with Steve. Please don’t tell anyone.” “The secret is safe with me,” Peter smiles at you. “But I think you should talk with him instead. He does not seem to be a man that notices when women flirt with him.” With that he leaves you alone in the hallway. You groan and walk to the gym.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The month goes fast because of all the missions the team had been on. You had seen Steve very little because you had not gone on many missions with him. Instead, you had been on smaller missions with Nat and/ or Bucky. That had meant that when you were at the compound Steve had been away on missions and when you were away he had been at the compound. But finally, you were both at the compound at the same time. It was Sunday and you wanted to see him. Talk to him and flirt with him. You found him in the library, sitting in the window seat looking out while sketching in a sketchbook. The sight makes you smile and you stop in the doorway just admiring how relaxed Steve looked. You walked towards Steve and judging by the small smile on Steve’s face he knew he no longer was alone, but he kept sketching. You lean over to see what he is sketching and there were no words to describe it. A sketch of Tony and Morgan playing together in the leaves that had fallen. Steve was using the coloured sketching pens that you had gotten him for his birthday. He had sketched it so the leaves were in colour and the rest was black and white. “There isn't a word in the dictionary for how fantastic you are,” you say to Steve and press a kiss to his cheek. Steve blushes but continues sketching. You sit down opposite to him in the window seat and look out on Tony and Morgan. It was so a happy view and you were thankful that this was your family. The silence between Steve and you were comfortable and after a while, you got up and fetched a book to read. What you did not notice was that Steve finished his sketch of Tony and Morgan and that he had chosen you as his new motive. He had a smile on his face the whole time he was sketching you, but you were too consumed by your book to notice.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Does anyone even need to question if Tony Stark throws a Halloween party? Because of course he does, and he forces everyone to dress up. Of those on the team that did not know what to dress up as or that had no ideas on their own, got their costumes chosen by Morgan and went shopping for costumes with Tony. You had come up with your costume by yourself, based on your favourite movie when you were younger. You were going as Dorothy from Wizard of Oz, but you had chosen sparkly red high heels instead of flats and you had painted your lips cherry red. Wanda had helped you with your hair, so it looked almost like Dorthy's in the movie. You had your basket and in it was a stuffed dog that looked like Toto from the movie. You loved the costume and know that it would be deemed less revealing than some of the other women at the party would be wearing. Not that you cared, you wanted to be true to yourself. Nat was going as the Devil with Red horns and red tail, and a red tight catsuit. And Wanda was dressed as Disney’s Snow White with a long dress on that was a copy of the dress from the movie. She also has a stuffed bird on her shoulder that would start singing if you touched its feathers. It was Morgan's idea what Wanda should dress at and it was a fitting choice for her. You deemed yourself hot as hell before you left your room together. Since Tony had announced two weeks before that the team needed a break and some fun together and that he was throwing a mandatory Halloween party, you were wondering what Steve was going to come as. You knew that Morgan had chosen costumes for Steve, Bruce, Tony and Pepper, but she had kept it a secret.  When you walk into the party the first thing you see is Tony dressed as Peter Pan. It was so fitting for the man that had not really been wanting to ever grow up.  Pepper stood beside him dressed and Wendy and deep inside you just knew that somewhere was Morgan dressed as Tinkerbell.  “Auntie Y/N,” you heard Morgan yell and as you thought Morgan dressed as Tinkerbell came running up to you. You caught her in your arms and lifted her into the air. “Aren't you just the cutest Thinkerbell,” you winked at Morgan and she started giggling. You dropped her down and she motioned with her finger for you to come closer so you did. You crushed down and she hugged you close. “You can thank me for uncle Steve's costume later,” She whispered in your ear before she ran over to her father and gave him a high-five. Wanda and Nat were trying to keep in their laughs, but it was obvious that Morgan had not whispered as quietly as you had wished.  “Don’t say a word,” you tell them before you start looking around the party. You saw Sam, dressed as a firefighter. You laugh and nudge Wanda and then you point to Sam when you see her reaction you start to laugh. Sam as a fireman was really hot, there was no denying it. You walk to the bar together and order drinks. All the waiters were dressed as pirates. After getting your drinks you start looking around the party to see Steve, but so far you hadn't seen him. You see Morgan walking around the party talking to people and she seems like she is having a good time.  “Well, hello, there Dorothy,” you hear a voice say behind you. A small part of you hoped it would be Steve, but you did not recognize the voice. And you were right. It was a man you had never seen before. He was looking you up and down. Even though your dress was not revealing you felt undressed. Nat takes a hold of your hand and drags you behind her. “Not interested,” she says and the man is going to say something when Bucky comes over. He is dressed as a Dodger baseball player.  “Walk away,” he says and the man leaves. “Thank you, Bucky,” you give him a hug. “That man was creepy.” “I did not get good vibes out of him,” Wanda agreed. Nat nods and then you change the subject. Then you hear a laugh that you recognize and you turn around to see Steve. Your jaw almost drops to the floor. Steve was dressed as a cop, a hot fucking cop. There are so many thoughts going through your head and not a single one of them innocent. Morgan skipped up to you. “You are welcome,” She says loud and clear and skipped away. Nat, Wanda and Bucky double over with laughter and Steve look over to you. He smiles at you and you give a small wave and a smile before you turn to your friends. “This is not funny,” You matter to them. “Sweetie, I would love to know what was going through your head when you saw him,” Nat is trying to stop laughing.  “No, you really don’t,” you look down on the floor. Bucky nudges you. “Go talk to him,” he encourages you and Wanda nodes. So you take your drink to go over to Steve. He was talking to Bruce, who was dressed as Buzz Lightyear. Another costume that Morgan had decided if you knew her right. Although when Bruce sees you coming he walks away from Steve.  “You're such a treat that I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me,” you say to Steve when you are standing behind him. He turns around and smiles at you. “Are you sure you are not talking about you,” Steve winks back. It makes you blush. “I am glad that someone came as a character I know.” Steve tugs lightly in one of your braids. You start talking about Wizard of Oz, one of your favourite movies growing up and a movie that Steve had seen in the cinema before the war. Soon Wanda, Nat, Bucky and Sam joined you. You talked about movies and having a great time. It was hard for you not to focus on Steve. He had always been good looking, but that cop uniform, it did things to you. It gave you a lot of dirty thoughts, and as the evening progressed it did not get better. Nat and Wanda dragged you out on the dance floor, so you handed Steve your basket with Toto and went out to the dancefloor with them. You did not care who was looking, the three of you were just having a great time. Then all the sudden there was a pair of hands on your hips and a body was grinding against you. That was all it took for you to turn stamp hard on the man's foot. You turned around and it was the man from before. You saw Bucky and Steve take a step forward but you hold up a finger.  “I never gave you permission to touch me,” you look at the man. “I am not interested in you, so please get the hell away from me.”  “Oh, girl nobody dances like that without wanting to be touched,” The man smirks at you. Bucky and Steve take another step forward. “I take it that you still don't get it,” you had to keep Nat back. “Get away from me or I will let them,” you tilt your head to the side where Bucky, Steve, Sam and Thor stood watching. “Take care of you.” The man swallows and walks away from you. Steve walks over to you. “Are you okay?” He looks concerned. You see Thor and Bucky escort the man out of the room. “I need some air,” you said after seeing everyone looking at you. Steve takes your hand and drags you out of the room and outside on a patio. You take a couple of deep breaths and shudder when you feel how cold it is. Then something warm is placed over your shoulders, it was the jacket to Steve’s cop uniform. “Thank you,” you smile at him and you shake again.  “Hey,” Steve says and pulls you into his arms. He hugs you close and you relax. After a few minutes in Steve's arms, you feel a whole lot better.  “Did I tell you that I live next door to Dunkin Donuts?” you joke with Steve and he starts laughing. You pull out of his arms and look up at him. “I thought you lived just down the hall from me,” Steve smirks and you shrug your shoulders.  “Well, seeing as you are dressed as a cop I just had to say it,” you smiled and took hold of Steve's hand again.  “I think I have said it before,” you look him up and down. “But I do love a man in uniform.” Steve blush and looks down on the floor.  “Let’s join the party again,” Steve says and drags you inside again. Even though Steve is holding your hand a woman comes up to the two of you when you are inside again. She is dressed in a revealing black dress and has a pointy black hat on. “May I ride your broomstick? I lost mine,” She says to Steve and you start laughing. Then she looks at you and you laugh even more. “Want to play good cop, bad cop?” you ask Steve and he looks at you nodding. “Sorry, he is taken,” you say to the woman and drag Steve further into the party. Steve started to laugh when you got away.  “I guess that made you the bad cop,” Steve asked and you nodded. “Well, you did not say anything,” you shrug your shoulders. “I did not know what to say,” Steve tugs you closer to him as he puts his arms around your shoulder.  “Wait,” you look up on him. “Did you want her to rid your broomstick?” you start to giggle. “Absolutely not,” Steve looks scared. Bucky and Sam come over to the two of you and you spend the night with friends. You end up telling the whole team about how you had to save Steve from a woman dressed as a witch and everyone finds it very amusing. 

Later that evening you were when all the people had left and it was only the team left you starting to get a bit tipsy, well no, you were drunk. You smile at Steve and think of all the dirty things you wanted to do with him.  “I have a great idea for those handcuffs,” you look right at the handcuffs he had in his belt. Pepper snorts and looks away. Steve blushes and takes your drink away from you. “I think you had too much to drink,” Steve says and hands the drink to Bucky.  “Are you going to arrest me?” you hold out your hands. Sam starts laughing. Steve looks at you and groans. “Come on, Dorothy, let's get,” Steve says, taking your hand. “Are you going to frisk me?” you wink at Steve and he blushes bright red. “Sweetheart, let’s go,” Steve lifts you up and the team looks at the two of you, clearly trying not to laugh. “Don’t forget Toto,” you scream out and Bucky hand’s you Toto. “Dorothy would never leave without Toto,” you mumble and snuggle into Steve’s neck. Steve agrees and leaves the rest of the team at the party and carries you to your room.  “You are amazing,” you mumble into Steve’s neck. “I don’t know what I have done to deserve someone like you in my life.” And then you fall asleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Noticing Taglist: @jessyballet

@xxanglecharmxx

Taglist is open

[diarrheaofthekeyboard]

Run From Me

4.27.21

It’s been a rough day. 

My old guitarist had been courting me for a few months to see if I wanted to play again. I’ve been hesitant because I feel like singing in person in a pandemic might not be the thing I want to do right now. But I do want to play and we’ve been sending musical ideas back and forth. I got my second Rona shot on Friday (that’s a different story) and the plan was to get some material so when we could meet in person, we had some momentum. 

About a month ago, a friend who has made a name for himself in San Francisco in a variety of fields, mentioned he wanted to offer bass lessons. We’ve known each other for 20 years and we’re friends, but not super close. Last time I saw him was actually in my town when we ran into each other at a minor league baseball game. Neither of us knew the other would be there. 

So I mentioned what I was kinda looking for in bass lessons. I had started talking with my old guitarist and I felt like bass lessons would kickstart the recording and arranging efforts I had been putting off. I could play bass in our new project like I did in the last band. But with that comes kind of a “life coach” scenario. I’m using bass as context to attack anxiety and depression head on. I don’t think I’m a good bassist, and I commit a lot of the mortal sins of playing it like a guitar. And being familiar with each other for a rather lengthy period of time meant I felt like we could have those conversations. He agreed, so we started on bass lessons. 

My bass of choice is a prototype for the SIGNATURE Mike Watt bass by Reverend. I bought it in 2014 and it’s really the perfect bass for me. Looks like an SG, has a short scale, Precision pickup, Danelectro/Silvertone redburst paintjob. It’s fantastic. I play with a pick because I’m more comfortable with it. 

Yes, everything about the above paragraph details the mortal sins in the world of bass. You play with your fingers because that’s what upright bassists did when they converted to electric. You play a 34” scale bass because that’s the length of the original Fender basses in the 50s. The first bassists to play short scale basses were Paul McCartney and Jack Bruce. Icons of rock music. And both used a pick too. Guitarists and bassists say “oh they’re allowed, you’re not them. Be my preconceived notion instead.”

After playing guitar for nearly 30 years, playing bass in 2 of my last 4 bands, and in my ongoing effort to silence Mr. Inner Critic, I’m taking this head on. He doesn’t care, he’s been playing for 40 years and yeah, play with a pick, play whatever you want. It doesn’t matter, nobody cares, and I’m playing my own material. Some jerkoff is gonna come up to me at a gig and say “real bassists slap the bass you suck”? And I’m gonna care about that? Really? 

So a lot of what we do in our lesson is really more like gruntwork therapy, within the context of bass. Yes, it’s ok that I play this way. There are no rules for the instrument. Preconceived notions are my own and they don’t matter. And within this context we’ve worked on some stuff I’ve written and some stuff the guitarist has written that I’ve rearranged. Last night, I listened to all of my phone recording guitar riffs and started lining them up to be re-recorded and arranged into our upcoming duo format. 

Then today I get a text from the guitarist saying he’s gotta work on himself and playing in a new project just isn’t in the cards right now. I get it. He works nights, that’s grueling, and he doesn’t have the bandwidth. But Mr. Inner Critic is off to the races. “Yeah, you suck. He hates you. You’re a loser who can’t keep a band together and this kinda shit only happens to you.” BLAH BLAH BLAH you get the idea. 

Bass friend said two things to me yesterday in our lesson that I’m trying to work on this week. First, stop making arbitrary rules for myself and just play. Second, one thing about bass is it’s a doubling instrument. Yes, it’s good to start finding my own voice now, but let’s not get too caught up in the weeds because I’m just making demos and getting ideas together and they’re going to change as lyrics and vocals and arrangements come into play. 

In addition to bass lessons, at the beginning of this month I also called Kaiser and got a new therapy intake. Turns out Kaiser doesn’t do individual therapy. So I still have to find my own therapist that takes insurance. But they do work with a virtual group who has a 9 week program I can start with. I had my intake with that group a couple of weeks ago and we were supposed to start last Friday. Unfortunately, the therapist was late to the intake and then didn’t show up for our first session. So I called the office and got reassigned. My first session is this Friday. 

Taking all of that into consideration, my goal is to write and record 3 songs with vocals, guitar, and bass in the 9 weeks of therapy. Learning how to program drums is not in my plans right now. That’s like phase 3 or 4. These things will give me plenty to do. Especially since I really only have an hour or two a night, if that. It’s the draining emotionality and anxiety of that process a therapist can help me with. 

What it all comes down to is accepting me for who I am with my voice and kicking the inner dialog to the curb. I feel like I’ve made some slow and steady progress, partially through this writing effort. Time to kick it up a notch. I might be ready for that.

[darlinrogue]

Having played hockey for years, Kenny is certainly agile. Having wrestled for years, Kenny, again, is certainly agile—quick and light on his feet. Dancing, however, is something else entirely. Similar to ice skating, but much more precise. Similar to wrestling, but you’re probably not supposed to hurt your partner. But Page had asked him for a dance, and how could Kenny say ‘no?’ “Real romantic, cowboy.” One of his hands intertwining with Page’s, the other at his shoulder. “You lead, then.”

Slow Dancing

|| Adam and Kenny // @ofgrief

The phone screen blurred. A flick of his finger sent text bubbles flying. The group chat brimmed with messages and notifications he wasn’t ever going to read. Adam opened the settings. His thumb hovered over the ‘leave group’ button, scrawled in red text. Instead, he closed the app and opened Spotify. He chose a playlist labelled ‘relaxing.’ Softer country music, more folksy shit, some slower Led Zeppelin. A lot of Bruce Springsteen sounding sad. The work of slower tempos that wouldn’t grate on his nerves. Made an unfamiliar space more his own.

Adam hooked his leg up on the bar stool spindle. He rubbed his hand over his jaw and dragged his fingernails through the beard stubble. The nice lady who did hair and make-up trimmed it for him today. The ice shifted in his drink, two fingers of whiskey. Week-to-week the bars changed. The scenery shifted with the ever traveling road shows of AEW. Some constants remained like the cheap chairs, the bland decor, the warm lights. Every bar had a different style of glass, some taller, some thinner, some clear, and some clouded. After hours, the bar was always the quietest spot as wrestlers escaped the halls for hotels and the production crew packed-up shop. Most important, no one Adam was avoiding ever came to the bar. It was a guaranteed retreat. At least in Jacksonville he could drive home tomorrow morning. Cuddle his dogs and be a homebody for a week. Silence the group chat, put his head phones in, and run until he didn’t know where he was anymore.

The holidays were a brief respite and a greater blessing. Adam returned to his childhood home as a jaded man seeking shelter from the shit storm just off his family property. He drank eggnog with his mom and helped her set up the Christmas tree. Caught-up with his sister and went riding with in the nipping cold of late-December. Shared the traditional whiskey shot with his father by the kitchen sink. Distant relatives filtered by for dinner. Cousins that patted Adam on the back and told him they saw him on TV. Grandparents that just didn’t get why Adam stopped being a teacher, even years later. Grandma made pies for Christmas morning and Adam’s mom got him cool cowboy themed pajamas. For a second Adam forgot about what waited outside the front gate. Then he arrived in Jacksonville, New Year’s Day, and it all came around.

The door opened and Adam glanced over his shoulder. Kenny peaked around the corner, his hair fallen over his shoulders. When he spotted Adam, he smiled, teeth flashing. Kenny walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Hey, hey, there you are Pizz!” Kenny greeted, he snapped his fingers rhythmically as he jaunted over to Adam. Kenny slid onto the bar stool and his eyes darted over the room. Kenny wiggled his hips, the leather creaking, as he situated himself in his seat. There was an easy grace to his movements but a tight tension in his shoulders. “Been looking all over for you.”

Sweat stains darkened the fabric across Kenny’s chest and arms. His hair was damp but drying, curls fluffed and unruly. The match earlier left his cheeks flushed from exertion. Kenny sighed as he leaned back against the chair, face tilting to the ceiling and eyes fluttering closed. Adam bet that was the first time he’d sat down all day. Trapped in a ring with Rey Fenix, Pentagon, and PAC, Adam counted it lucky Kenny stumbled-out with all his attached pieces.

“You good?” Adam asked, he tapped the volume down on his phone so the melodramatic singing dropped to a low purr. ‘Drive me—crazy’ “You guys had a good match out there tonight.”

“Yeah, we did, a great start to the year if you ask me,” Kenny said. He looked at Adam and he grinned again. Something flipped in Adam’s stomach. “Can’t ever complain about a mark in the win column, especially against PAC. I feel good, like I’m getting my feet under me.”

To emphasize his improving condition, Kenny shook-out his arms and shoulders. A jitter that extended all the way to his fingers. He interlaced his hands and stretched-out his shoulders with an arch of his back. He settled his grip on the counter edge.  Kenny chewed on his lip and there wasn't anything playful in his eyes.

“You know, it would’ve been nice, if you came and joined us, after?” Kenny admitted. “Matt, Nick, Cody, myself, we all would’ve loved to celebrate with you. You know, like a family. None of us thought AEW would last to the New Year, this was a big deal, a big night. Something we couldn’t have done without you.”

Adam breathed a laugh, shaking his head. He sought the last bit of comfort he could wring from his glass. “You know, I’m just, trying to get some space. Get my shit sorted-out before I hand it all to you guys. I just don’t think— I just didn’t think it’d be a good idea to go down to the ring.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that,” Kenny said, and Adam doubted it. Because the next thing he said was, “Matt and Nick miss you. I miss you.”

“Yeah, I— I know,” Adam said. He investigated his glass, the intricate pattern of cut crystal and how the light played between the facets. The pale press of his white, scarred knuckles. He attempted to make new friends, to branch-out, hadn’t worked-out too hot. Adam’s glorious single’s run, hadn’t worked-out too hot either. Hell, next week he even had a match with Kenny. So, evidently his bold proclamation that he was leaving the Elite, was not heard. Maybe he hadn’t been loud enough. “Like, I said, I just, need some time.”

“That’s fine, but, Adam? We’re here for you. We’ll always be here for you,” Kenny said.

Adam’s eyes snapped-up to meet Kenny’s gaze. The sound of his name so foreign in Kenny’s mouth. The Bucks called him ‘Hangman’ and the comms ‘Adam Page.’ Kenny favored ‘Page’ or ‘Pizz,’for some reason. The only time Adam heard just his name was when he talked to his mom. Those two syllables, in Kenny’s mouth, set a fire in Adam’s chest. It was a spell. Kenny could ask for literally anything and Adam would say ‘yes.’ A totally unfair advantage. Kenny left Adam helpless and weak; But Adam let Kenny hold all the cards. 

Kenny, unaware of his power, patted Adam’s thigh. His palm rested against Adam’s jean and his nails worked against the fabric. Adam heard his pulse in his throat. “So, whenever you’re ready to come back? We’ll be here, waiting. Don’t think we’re just going to forget about you, or that you’re not welcome. The Elite, us, we’re something special, and it’s always going to mean something. Yeah, we can fight and have our disagreements, but that’s okay. We will always come back together.”

Adam grinned, the corner of his mouth curling. “You have been feeling better, lately, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I have,” Kenny breathed with a laugh. He patted Adam’s thigh and knee once more before retracting his hand. “I took those first few losses really hard, I’ll admit that, but I’m back! I got my feet underneath me and I’m ready for the new year. I felt it tonight, Kenny Omega, is back, and I think the crowd felt it too. They were a live wire tonight, oh, I could feel it in my toes. Did you see it?”

“You uh, definitely seemed, happier?” Adam managed.

Kenny nodded and smiled approvingly. This Kenny, with his easy grins and ‘Power of Friendship’ speeches was a helluva a lot better than whatever the hell was going on in October. A few months ago he was barely functional. His voice muted and dulled over the phone. Adam wasn’t going to pretend that their way-too-late at night phone calls had anything to do with Kenny’s improvement. Kenny just needed someone to vent to that wasn’t Michael Nakazawa or a Young Buck. So, that left Adam. Adam also wasn’t going to pretend that his willingness to stay-up way past his bedtime wasn’t an act of pure devotion. Any excuse to talk to Kenny. Any excuse to have something special with Kenny.

Even when Adam knew he shouldn’t be talking to the Elite —for their collective good— Adam made an exception for Kenny. What puzzled Adam the most though was Kenny’s willingness to listen back. To hear-out Adam’s side of the story and all his twisted anxieties and fears. About the more wretched parts of Adam he couldn’t even tell his mom about.

For Kenny to hear about the worst aspects of his past and personality, and decide to keep talking to him— that part confused Adam.

“So, uh, about next week, I saw on the graphic we have a match?” Adam interjected. “Against Private Party? When did that happen?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Kenny asked, his brow furrowed and creased but it melted off in a heartbeat. He shrugged, “Yeah, TK booked it for us. We got two wins, and in a young company like ours? That’s pretty notable.”

“They’re shitty wins, Kenny,” Adam pointed-out.

Mox and Pac did not qualify as a tag-team. They worked like two Rottweilers shoved in a sack together and then told to get along. All Kenny and Adam had to do was stand back and watch the duo implode. Kip Sabian and Shawn Spears were a mess, in the worst ways. Of course those two flimsy wins, was before Adam factored in their two losses. Both against legitimate tag-teams that knocked Kenny and Adam down a peg. Kenny and Adam may’ve been in the same stable for close to four years, but it’d been that long since Adam shared a corner with him. It absolutely showed too. Adam had watched the tapes back and he bet Kenny didn’t appreciate the bruises from his so called partner.

“But wins, nonetheless,” Kenny retorted. He bunted his knuckles against Adam’s shoulder. “Shitty wins count. We take those.”

“Private Party is a real tag-team,” Adam said, but he shrugged, nonchalant. Smacked the back of his hand against his palm on each word for emphasis. “But I guess I can whoop their asses.”

“That’s the spirit,” Kenny said.“Yeah, Private Party beat the Bucks. They’re good, but not that good, I think we can do it.”

“Mhmm, you have a lot of faith in me,” Adam grunted. He placed his glass down and leaned against the counter. Regarding Kenny with a quick sweep of his eyes.

“Of course, I do, I told you, we got something special, I can feel it.” Kenny smoothed the word feel as long as it would go.

The music changed on Adam’s phone and his mind drifted from Kenny. Kenny launched, undeterred, into theorizing strategy. An Orville Peck song, with gentle string, a soft melody, singing about nostalgia and dreams. Adam grinned to himself, medicated just enough to consider something dangerous. For a guy lovesick with Kenny Omega these thoughts were perilous. It’d been a year now and Adam had sat on his hands like an idiot, pinning away. Hell with it, it was a bad idea but following bad ideas through was his modus operandi these days. Adam hummed low in his throat, cutting Kenny off as he waxed about Mark Quinn’s right leg.

“Dance with me,” Adam murmured, voice soft, barely a whisper. Like his throat was trying to strangle the words before he uttered them. Not at all the gruff confidence he had hoped to seduce Kenny with.

Adam pushed-off the bar stool and offered his hand. He grinned, bashful, feeling as awkward as he had when he was at Junior prom. This wasn’t weird, right? They’d done weirder, this was fine. More than fine when Kenny took Adam’s hand and Adam felt the press of Kenny’s callouses against his.

“Real romantic, cowboy.” Kenny breathed and the last of Adam’s confidence melted. Cowboy, that was new, and Adam liked it. He really liked how Kenny said it. “You lead, then.”

Adam laughed and ducked his chin to his chest. With his free hand he turned the music up on his phone. There was lightning at his finger tips as he ran his palm over Kenny’s hip. Kenny put his hand on Adam’s shoulder and grinned obnoxiously as he obviously felt-up Adam’s bicep. A couple inches between their chests and warmth flushed Adam’s throat. Adam whispered ‘okay,’ and his heart thudded. Kenny had to hear it. Feel Adam’s pulse in their joined hands. Terrible, stupid, perfect idea— when Kenny rejected him for being a lovesick fool it wasn’t going to be so great.

“It’s just some team building.” Adam preempted and placated Kenny. With his hand on Kenny’s hip he nudged the other man to sway with him. Nothing but a little stutter step. “You know, so we’re ready for next week.”

“Ah, yeah, team building,” Kenny chuckled. Adam met his eyes, and swallowed hard. Their noses a hair’s breadth apart. Adam wished he had brushed his teeth so his breath didn’t smell like alcohol. “You slow dance with all your partners?”

“Yeah, actually, Jason and I learned to waltz when we first started tagging,” Adam admitted. Kenny gapped at him. Clearly his question had been rhetorical and now Adam regretted bringing it up. “I mean, for the foot work and all that, it was just a good way to get in sync, you know?”

“Right,” Kenny said, and Adam wondered if his lack of enthusiasm meant something.

Two high fliers like Jason Blade and Adam Page needed immaculate tandem offense. It was a process, to get used to each other’s rhythms. To know when the other had taken too much damage and needed that blind tag. When to slow down, or speed-up, as the match dragged on. It worked, they got used to each other’s rhythms. Eventually they didn’t need the waltz at all, it was just a crutch. Adam had only suggested it as a joke but it did wonders for their footwork. Less so for their teamwork as they quibbled over who would lead.

(Adam eventually got the role because he was better at it than Jason).

Adam lifted his arm and after a second to process, Kenny twirled underneath. Adam pulled Kenny back as Kenny stepped in. A little too much momentum and Kenny stumbled into Adam’s chest. The heel of Kenny’s loafer drove between the two delicate bones on Adam’s big and second toe. If this was skee-ball then Kenny just scored the 100 points. Adam cussed and hissed, jerking away from Kenny. He rubbed the top of his boot over his calf to diminish the pain.

Kenny hissed between his teeth, “Yep, that was my bad. Sorry. You good?”

Adam kicked and shook his leg to return feelings to his toes. “So, was that payback?”

“Maybe,” Kenny teased. “Can we try again though?”

Kenny’s grin was rueful as Adam returned to him. He placed his hand back in Adam’s offered palm. Despite his sore foot, Adam was eager to have Kenny back in his arms. To feel the firm strength of his hip and lat underneath his hand. Back to their awkward little shuffle step and this time, Kenny pulled Adam closer. Chest-to-chest, Kenny rested his chin in the crook of Adam’s shoulder. His nose brushed against the wisps of Adam hair. A soft whisper of Kenny’s breath against Adam’s throat. Adam tried not to stiffen, as if his tension would scare Kenny away. Tried to find Kenny’s heartbeat, his rhythm, but when he did he couldn’t bring himself to fall in lock step. Wondered why he had to follow at all.

Except, Kenny had asked Adam to lead.

Adam experimented and lifted his arm again. This time Kenny unfurled and laughed each step of the way as he twirled underneath. Adam guided Kenny back to him, chuckling as their grip changed and Kenny’s hand flattened against his chest. The song ended without flourish. Gunmetal blue, the details of Kenny’s iris, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Shirts rucked, hands joined, and the slight huff of their breath in tandem. The playlist rolled to the next song. Adam and Kenny broke, then stepped away together. Hands lifting to rub at the back of their necks in mirrored gestures. Adam had an apology at the tip of his tongue.

“That was nice, Page,” Kenny said, his voice soft “We should definitely do it again sometime but—”

“You have to go?” Adam guessed.

“Yeah, Cody, the Bucks, and I are going out for a late-dinner,” Kenny admitted. His fingers twisted with the front of his shirt. “I won’t— I won’t ask you to come. I know how you feel, but I wanted you to know we were going out, and that if you wanted to join us? We’ll always save you a seat.”

Adam nodded, his thumb hooking in his belt loop. He licked his lips and studied the floor. “Thanks, Kenny, I appreciate it. I really do.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later,” Kenny said. He walked backwards to the door, chewed on the inside of his mouth. “Do you think— Can we meet early, like a couple days before the match, it’s in Mississippi, right? Maybe we can fly down early, get in the gym, and just, you know, work on stuff? Private Party is a real tag-team, we gotta be ready.”

Adam hesitated, thinking of the phone calls he’d have to make to get his flight changed. Packing early, a couple days less home. Finding someone to take care of his dogs while he was gone. The logistics crowded the forefront of his brain and yet all the back latched-onto was Kenny. His hopeful, shy blue eyes, and his little half smile. It was such a terrible idea, this was going to be beyond inconvenient but, two days with just Kenny, working-out, figuring out this tag-team they were evidently doing, and—

Shit.

“Yeah,” Adam managed, “We can do that.”

“Alright! I’ll see you in Mississippi, then, cowboy,” Kenny cackled. He backed-up and rested his hand on the door handle. He pointed at Adam. “Text you details later. Just you wait until we break-out some tandem offense on Private Party, it’ll all be worth it. Catch ya’ later, Pizz.”

The door closed behind Kenny and in his absence, Adam sighed. He worked his hand over his jaw and wondered if he was going grey early. Somehow, someway, Kenny had slipped the rug out from underneath him and made them a tag-team. Adam had agreed to tag with Kenny versus Mox and PAC because they both needed it, but this had become something more. Something Adam was not prepared for. It was a commitment but also an opportunity.

If they were doing this, Adam realized, he had to commit. He couldn’t half-ass a tag-team with Kenny Fucking Omega. Even if he felt like this was a terrible idea that was going to screw them both sideways. Not now, not even soon, but in a few months, maybe a year, when all of this unraveled and Adam slipped in a pool of his own blood.

“The point BJ, is that when the moment presented itself to him, he did grab it with an iron grip.”

Years of practice, months in the gym, days spent at Jimmy Valiant’s training camp, drilling counters, perfecting the snap of his hips as Adam flipped into a high bridge. Pressing onto his tip-toes, all his weight leveraged down on a bigger opponent. Adam Pearce had two inches and forty pounds on Adam. One opening was all Adam needed, though. The shock in the room on the three count had been palpable. The audience’s collectively gasped and it was a pure adrenaline shot to Adam’s veins. Shock erupted into open cheers. Adam on his knees, grinning with pride and surprise, like he wasn’t even sure he had won. BJ ruffled his hair fondly. He was not supposed to win this match but he did. Jimmy Jacobs, the entire crowd, the commentators, they didn’t believe in Adam Page, but Adam did. Back then that was enough to pull out a miracle.

“He did put a vice around it, BJ! And he won the match!”

Adam Pearce popped Adam Page’s confidence like a balloon. Pearce’s right palm smashed across Adam’s cheek so hard he tasted it. Adam won the match, he won the battle; But Jimmy Jacobs point was clear: he did not win the war. And Adam was at war. This was a no-holds barred beatdown and he was on the curb. Blood in his hair, eyes shot, and fingers shaking. The Bucks at his throat. Kenny with his back to a ledge, grinning at him with unrestrained excitement about a match next week. Next week, against Private Party, a real tag-team. Not the shitty ‘teams’ they had been fighting. Not a fight he could check into for the sake of Kenny or the peace.

“It doesn’t matter, because that was the test you failed.”

Pearce’s finger jabbed into Adam’s face. He went cross eyed trying to look at it. Felt and suppressed the tremble in his bottom lip. When Adam was a little kid he watched wrestling on the TV and felt a bone deep need. A wrestling ring was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He had to get in that ring. Nothing else mattered, and for a time the trampoline in the backyard would do, but that ring called to him. He wanted to feel the give under his step, the flex of the ropes. Smell the sweat and blood that’d seeped into the mats over decades, decades of history, legacy, and war. A written history Adam longed to inscribe his name into. When Adam was a child he didn’t care about belts or titles, if he just got into a wrestling ring, got to stand in one, he’d be happy.

It was a simple, unambitious dream, but for a kid from rural Virginia is was his dream. Well, he got in one, and it was like a drug, he had to do it again, and again, and again, and he got good at it. So good that he won more matches than he lost. He had to feel the thrum of a crowd in his ears. Test himself on an opponent, stretch the limits of his ability. Once, Adam had thought to himself, while running the the apron to a moonsault, pushing off his leading leg, his back arched, and his heart grazing the ceiling,  ‘I wish I was actually this strong.’

That the confidence of Adam Page, professional wrestler, The Hangman, carried over into his day-to-day. That the power of his chops translated to an unflinching voice when he spoke. That the technique of his flip was as impressive as his social prowess. Adam never second guessed himself before a suplex but he did in everything else. It shocked him he had the spine to ever even get in a ring in the first place, to go to Japan, to enter the G1, to join an upstart company like AEW, or to even go outside.

An opportunity was presenting itself to Adam Page. Kenny Omega, the best bout machine and a great visionary, already saw it. Adam saw it too and he suspected its appearance was not accidental, not a luck of the draw. He wanted to call Kenny and tell him to cancel the match. His stomach twisted with the thought. This was a bad, bad idea, to step down a twisting path that he couldn’t see the end of. Going back to tag-teams, tagging with the leader of the group he was trying to leave, and the man he’d been totally lovesick with for over a year. Adam hesitated, his hand hovering over his phone. 

“At some point, the both of you will have seen everything there is to see. Have been able to do everything there is to do, and when the moment presents itself, you won’t hesitate to reach for it. Because you already know that you grabbed it before it presented itself. Time will do that for you.”

Adam’s hand flattened against the bar counter, pinned like a taxidermy bug to the board. He grabbed it when he rolled Adam Pearce through to the bridge. He grabbed it when Matt offered a spot in the Bullet Club. When he hung Chris Sabine and became the Hangman. He grabbed it when he snatched the title from Jay White and held it above his head like it could be his. He grabbed it when he won the battle royale. When he rode a horse to a ring that belonged to a legend to whom he would serve as a footnote. Most of the time, it slipped his fingers, because his grip was slick with sweat, and he was a young man, lacking time. But Adam had never missed, never hesitated, and if he was going to do this—

If he was going to walk into next week, take that match with Kenny and fight Private Party. He was going to commit.

No more half-assed bullshit. No more ducking away and avoiding a future he dreaded. They were going to do this and it was going to suck, and the effort was probably going to kill him. It’d probably would mean that by the end Kenny hated him. And that would also suck, but Adam wasn’t going to spend his whole life pinning for something he could never have. Not when there was something he could have and it was gold around his waist. An accomplished career that he could die happy with. The Bucks patting his shoulders and arms, telling him he did great, they’re proud.

It was going to suck, it was going to kill him but at least he got to pick his poison.

[floatingpetals]

There’s History There

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: a little bit of angst, self-worth doubt, but plenty of fluff

Word Count: 2900+

Request: “ hello! can you do a oneshot where your ex-fiance visits the tower and current fiance!Bucky sees you two hanging out and having fun and becomes insecure about himself and how happy he can make you” -Anon

A/N: I didn’t go as hard with this one as I could have, but there’s still a little bit of insecurity in there. It’s also a lot longer than I thought it be lol. I hope you enjoy! ❤

“Hey, has anyone seen Y/N?” Bucky asked the group as he stepped in the kitchen. He just finished the mountain of paperwork he put off the past few weeks and was desperate to find his fiance and unwind. Natasha and Bruce glanced up from the kitchen table where they sat eating their lunch, Bruce grinning at Bucky. Out of everyone, besides Tony or Steve, Bruce was the happiest for Bucky and Y/N, who was like a little sister to him. 

“I think she’s down in the main lobby with Tony. I think someone is here to see her. Tony curious so he tagged along.” He supplied. Bucky raised a brow, curiously wondering who could possibly be here. He nodded and went to grab a bottle of water before he waved over his shoulder and headed to the elevators.

He fiddled with the wrapper on the bottle, humming a soft song under his breath while he waited for the short elevator ride. He was going through the possible visitors in his head, but none really stood out. Y/N saw her parents just last weekend to tell them about their engagement. He went with her, one of the many reasons why his paperwork was put off for so long, and they lived in a completely different state. So it couldn’t be them. Her best friend had complete access to the compound and the few times a month she’d come to visit, she’d just walk right in the compound. So whoever this was, wasn’t someone he knew.

The ding signaled his arrival at lobby floor and he didn’t think anything of the mystery visitor. The door slid open and he took a step out, searching the lobby for his fiance and Tony. He spotted them sitting on the couches, Y/N and Tony’s back to him as they laughed with each other. He eyed the person on the other end of the couch, something about the man sparking a bit of recognition in his mind. Yet Bucky for the life of him couldn’t pinpoint exactly who the man was.

Even as he crossed the room, he couldn’t quite figure out who the man was. Bucky didn’t have time to try and place the face before Y/N spotted him coming towards the corner of her eye and reached out to him with a happy grin.

“Hey, baby.” She greeted, slipping her fingers in his hand as he reached out back. He gave her a happy grin in return and settled to sit on the armrest and set the bottle on the floor beside his feet. Absently, Bucky began playing with her shiny diamond engagement ring he spent hours and hours searching for, the pride and excitement swelling in his chest in knowing that she agreed to be his. He nodded to Tony, who raised two fingers in greeting and then turned to the man who was staring at Y/N’s hand intertwined with his. “Oh, Bucky this is Jackson. Jackson, this is Bucky.”

Ding. That’s how he knew of this man. Jackson is Y/N’s ex. Not just ex-boyfriend of two years but her fiancé of three months. This wasn’t a fling relationship between the two of them. They were high school sweethearts growing up, the class vote as the cutest couple. They intended to get married, they had plans to spend the rest of their lives together. Somewhere along the way, things didn’t work out and they broke off the engagement.

Y/N never went into detail about why they broke up and at the time it wasn’t entirely important for Bucky either. She never really mentioned him, even the few times she did there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that she was moved on and over her ex. Y/N and Bucky had been together for the past two years, and both were incredibly happy with their relationship. Clearly, since she very enthusiastically agreed to marry him.

Bucky felt his blood run cold, his stomach dropping to the pit of his stomach. Jackson smiled warmly at Bucky, completely unaware of Bucky’s realization and stuck his hand out across the table.

“Nice to finally meet you, Bucky. Y/N’s told me a lot about you. Congrats on the engagement too.” He said with cheer in his voice. Bucky had to mask a frown, uncertainty starting to bubble at the surface. This attention was a little out of left field, well more like way out of left field into the next park across town. They still talked to each other?

“Oh yeah, thanks. Nice to meet you too,” He muttered lamely. He glanced away, freezing when he locked eyes with Y/N. She had a strange look on her face as she watched them both interact, although when Bucky turned back to her, she wiped it from her expression but not fast enough for him not to catch it. The dazzling smile came back from before and she turned back to Jackson.

“So Jackson was just telling Tony and me about this gala he’s want to have here soon for his nonprofit organization.” Y/N beamed with a touch of pride. A sudden sharp pain shot through Bucky’s heart. “Tony’s thinking of hosting the event here and inviting a few of his ‘higher up friends’ to help.”

“And as I’ve said, he doesn’t have to,” Jackson argued. “It’s a kind thought, but I can figure it out myself.”

“I’m not doubting you could.” Tony injected. “Just think of this way. You let me help you by hosting the event here, I invite all the people who have more money than they know what to do with it, and you’ll get a few sponsors out of the deal.”

“And what do you get out of it?” Jackson asked, biting the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. Tony smirked and shrugged.

“I get the excuse to drink and Pepper can’t get mad at me.”

Y/N and Bucky both laughed softly, shaking their heads at their teammate who seemed rather pleased he found a loophole in the system. Jackson appeared to mull over the idea of giving in to Tony, but they all knew he was more than willing to hand the reigns over and have someone else take over. Y/N had already flat out said that planning things wasn’t exactly Jackson strong suit. He was better leading and bringing people in, not setting the meeting up.

“Well. Thank you, Mr. Stark. I really do appreciate it.”

Tony waved him off with a flick of the wrist and started to stand. He stuck out a hand for Jackson to shake before he tucked his hands in his pockets.

“The pleasures all mine. And please, Tony’s just fine.”

Y/N and Jackson stood, Bucky staying put on the air rest with his fingers still gripping Y/N’s. She turned and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple before she pulled away to walk around the coffee table to Jackson. Bucky watched on as they shared a hug, the two lingering longer than he would have liked as Y/N rubbed his back. It made his heart hurt once again his chest and he had to rip his gaze away.

“It was good to see you again Jackson. I know this wasn’t exactly how you’d thought this would end, but I’m glad I get to see you again.”

Jackson hummed and stepped back, but kept his arms resting on her hips while he looked down at her.

“Same with you. I’m bringing Devin to the gala for you to meet. I doubt I could get away with going to Tony Stark’s party without them.” He chuckled fondly. Y/N giggled and nodded.

“Can’t wait.”

Jackson said a final goodbye to Tony and Bucky, who shot him a tight-lipped smile and a gruff farewell before he headed out the door to where his car waited. Even after the door’s shut behind him, Bucky didn’t relax. Thoughts were swirling around in his mind, bothersome doubts growing in his thoughts. Y/N was still too familiar with him, too open and surprisingly happy to see him. He caught how she smiled at Jackson, the same smile she had only reserved for him. The corner of her eyes crinkled, the way she laughed openly and without her usual control. It was unnerving and the sight made the vicious little demons in the back of his head come rushing up to the top.

Jackson appeared to have his life together. He was dressed smartly, was articulate and polite, Y/N still obviously liked talking with him, and more importantly, he didn’t come off as a complete asshole. So the question Bucky kept finding himself asking was; what happened and why did they break it off?

Y/N was watching Bucky stare off as Tony took his leave, seeing the dark clouds swirl around in his eyes and figured it was best to let the two of them deal with it alone. Something was bothering him, she figured as much when her ordinarily charming fiance clammed up after the introductions. But watching his perfectly placed mask slip from his face to show the scared and the insecure man she knew was deep down inside pulled at her heartstrings. Walking forward to stand in front of him, Y/N brushed his hair back to tuck behind his ear. Bucky jolt and tore his gaze up at Y/N.

“Where’d you go?” She asked softly. Bucky frowned, blinking rapidly while he struggled to shut the little voices in his head up. “I know something’s bothering you. You can tell me now if you want, or I’ll wait until you fall asleep and start talking in your sleep again.”

“I don’t talk in my sleep.” Bucky sulked. Y/N raised a brow, a bit amused at his denial.

“Just last week you admitted to me you were the one who stole Natasha’s chocolate stash and that you were the one who put the red sock in Sam’s whites.”

Bucky opened his mouth to protest, but heat flooded his cheek fully aware he was caught.

“Yep.” Y/N said with a pop at the end of the ‘p’. “Torture doesn’t work on you but give you a nice fluffy pillow and blankets with some cuddles and you sing like a canary. Now. The question is, which path do you want to take?”

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and let out a heavy breath. He knew there wasn’t any way around this. He had been had. Y/N was smart enough to figure out something was wrong; not like he did a very good job at hiding it.

“It’s…” He began hesitantly and tried to school his face to not show off his discomfort. “Am I enough for you?”

“W-what?” Y/N’s face fell, stunned at his question. “Of course you are! What could have possibly made you think otherwise?”

“I-I don’t know. I’ve never seen you that happy to see someone else before, and the fact that he was your ex.” Bucky inhaled deeply, his face twisted at the bitter taste the words left in his mouth. “You have a lot of history and seeing how comfortable you are with him made me wonder.”

Despite the crestfallen expression on her fiance’s adorable face, Y/N couldn’t stop herself from giggling softly. Bucky scowled, perturbed that Y/N was finding this funnier that she should have. Here he was admitting something that was very difficult for him to get through, and Y/N was having a laugh. He didn’t appreciate it one bit. Bucky glared and sat back with his arms crossed, which only caused Y/N to laugh harder.

“Glad you find this funny.” He grumbled. Y/N struggled to control her breathing, wheezing and snorting despite her attempts. Bucky was growing increasingly agitated the longer this went on, debating on whether or not he should just get up and leaver her to it. To him, Y/N wasn’t taking his emotions seriously and he wasn’t going to put up with it. Before he could go to stand, Y/N, through her giggles and tears, gently grabbed his face and leaned in to press a loving kiss to his lips.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry. It’s not funny.” Y/N began and whipped the tear from her eyes. “Here you are, being honest and I can barely contain myself.”

“I thought we could be adults, but clearly that’s not the case.”

Y/N ignored his quip and took in a deep calming breath. She bit her her lips in an attempt to control herself before she kept on.

“Bucky, first and foremost. You are enough. You make me so deliriously happy; I can’t even begin to describe how you make me feel. I love you! Not anyone else, but you. Please don’t ever think you couldn’t ever be enough, because you are. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” Y/N stated confidently, gently cupping the sides of Bucky’s face to keep him from turning away. “But secondly, there’s a reason why Jackson and I aren’t together. Yes, we started to drift apart after high school, but it’s something much bigger than that.”

“Which is?” Bucky asked timidly. A number of scenarios rapidly came to Bucky’s mind. Did he cheat on Y/N? Did they just fizzle out and never get to rekindle that romance side? Was that something that would ever happen with them? God, I hope not, he thought as the pain ignited in his chest again. Y/N giggled yet again, but this time was capable of containing herself of letting it go further.

“Bucky. Jackson’s gay.”

“Ah.” Bucky blinked. Well, that wasn’t what he excepted.

“Devin is his husband.” Y/N continued. “He realized it sometime after we graduated from high school and went to our separate colleges. Jackson was able to get away from his super conservative mom and realized that he wasn’t as into women like he was raised to think. By that point, he and I had already decided that the distance was too much and we would be better off separating amicably. 

I guess I always kind of knew too with how he wouldn’t do certain things with me without feeling weird about it, but when we were dating in high school and even those brief months we were engaged, he denied it every turn of the way. His mom was furious when he came out and disowned him along with the rest of his family. I was one of his only few friends who supported his decision and was there for him when he needed the help. For the longest time, he was incredibly depressed, and I was afraid I’d lose him if I didn’t check up on him every few days.”

Relief washed over Bucky, along with a touch of embarrassment. That’s why she seemed so close with Jackson. Not because there were underlying feelings between them, but because Y/N and Jackson both had gone through an emotional ordeal. She was Jackson’s support in his time of need. Of course, she would be, Y/N’s heart was huge and she hated seeing people in pain and suffering. Especially if she was able to help in any way.

“That’s actually what his nonprofit is for. He offers support to the young teens of the LGBT community who have been kicked out of their homes because their families don’t agree with who they love. He had support from friends when he came out, but a lot of others don’t.” Y/N brushed the hair from Bucky’s face, beaming with pride as she explained her ex-boyfriend/ best friend’s career choice. “Even if Jackson wasn’t gay, we were growing apart as it was, and I think we still would have ended things before we went through with the marriage. Yes, I loved him, but we both wanted vastly different things as it was. It never would have worked out regardless. Besides, I think it was meant to be.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky cocked his head to the side.

“If I married Jackson I never would have decided to go into biochemistry, which never would have led me to meet Bruce or Fury, which in turn, would have never led me to meet you.” She grinned. “Besides that marriage would have been a shame and neither of us would have been happy.”

Bucky laughed, letting his eyes fall closed and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against Y/N’s. Y/N hummed softly and pressed a gentle kiss against his chin, lingering a moment before she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry if meeting him made you feel uncomfortable. I should have told you about him sooner, but I’ve always been a little protective of him.” Y/N whispered softly. Bucky sighed and pulled her against his chest.

“No, don’t feel bad. I didn’t mean to let the little bit of jealousy take over. I shouldn’t have doubted you either.” He murmured as he buried his head against the crook of her neck. Y/N giggled when his whiskers tickled her sensitive skin there, her body curling away from the beard. The corners of his lips curled up into a smile, but Bucky didn’t move to retaliate despite wanting to tease her further.

“Promise me you’ll never doubt yourself again though.” Y/N said intently. “You mean the world to me, and I won’t have you thinking otherwise!”

Bucky chuckled and nodded, warmth spreading through his chest. It was a nice change from the pain from earlier.

“I promise.”

“Good, now did you finish your paperwork?” Y/N shifted gears and stepped back. Bucky nodded and let her pull him to stand. “Even better. I didn’t get to cuddle with you this morning, so now it’s time to make up with an afternoon movie cuddle session.” 

Bucky’s heart swelled in his chest and the little voices in his mind were silent. How could he have ever doubted this amazing woman and the love she had for him? Now more than ever, Bucky felt his love for her grow tenfold. Their wedding day couldn’t come any sooner. 

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[asgardlover75]

Wonderwall

So this is one of my favorite songs of all time.  I love the simplicity of it and the fact that everyone loves to sing it, regardless of their taste in music.  I’ve been thinking long and hard about how to write this one and had some ideas.  One day last week I just sat down and wrote.  Kinda nice when things flow like that.  I’ve decided to go ahead and post it because if I keep messing with it I’m gonna go crazy.  Lol  

Thank you @buckysforeverprincess for hosting this and congrats on the milestone!

Enjoy!

 Character Pairing – Steve x OFC

Triggers – some talk of foster care and neglect but nothing too crazy.  

Song – Wonderwall by Oasis

Since Shield had been rebuilt, much to Steve’s disappointment, the Avengers had created a program that allowed some sharing of resources with other agencies.  Those agencies were the federal and world wide governments and SHIELD of course.  Sharon Carter had become director of SHIELD for its reincarnation and she had been doing a bang up job so far.  Agents that Director Carter and a small group of trusted advisors thought were reliable and trustworthy could have a chance to work closely with the Avengers.  That could entail going on missions across the world or helping out at the compound or Avengers Tower.  In the last two years there had only been a handful of agents picked for this highly prized internship but Steve had to say he definitely had his favorites.  

Aribella Stone was one of those favorites.  

“Uh, forgive me Director but these stats are not as…they kinda suck compared to what you’ve compiled for us before.”  

Steve sat next to Tony, rolling his eyes as he blew out a frustrated breath.  Chastising the billionaire quietly, the captain gave his friend the stink eye and turned back to Sharon.  The director looked unaffected by Tony’s outburst and even had a trace of smugness in her smile.

“No, the stats aren’t as high as what we normally select but this one is special.  I think she will fit in nicely with your bunch.”

Tony froze, looking up at the woman across from him, puzzled.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means she’s good at her job and can hold her own with you assholes.”

Nine months later and the team joked about keeping her permanently because Sharon was correct. Aribella fit in so well with their group that it felt like she’d always been there.  No, she wasn’t the fastest agent they’d worked with.  Aribella couldn’t break down a weapon in record time or take down someone twice her size, but she was dependable and smart as hell. She also rivaled Stark in the snark department.  

Sam and Bucky enjoyed her ability to word vomit her thoughts.  She had no filter at all but no one complained because her insight was almost always valuable and her humor was on par with theirs.  Tony and Bruce would often drag her into the lab to pick her analytical brain and outside the box thinking.  Wanda and Nat just liked having another girl that they could just be themselves around.  

She wasn’t the only agent working with them at the moment, but there was more of a camaraderie with Aribella than the other agents.  Steve and Tony didn’t play favorites, each agent had their own strengths and helped contribute.  Aribella’s were just more well-rounded than some of the others.  The petite, 28 year old blonde had become an invaluable member of their team and none of them wanted her to leave, but her time was up and it was soon becoming someone else’s turn to learn from Earth’s mightiest heroes.  

Then, the illness hit. All around the world people were becoming sick and dying and there was a race to stop the mysterious illness. Quarantines were instituted all over, especially in the bigger cities.  New York was no exception.  Considering around 8 million people lived there the team made the decision to move back into the tower, hopefully temporarily.  Bruce and Tony would be working with scientists around the world to figure out the virus and try to make a vaccine.  The rest would be ready to help out wherever needed and they needed to be in the thick of it.  

Pepper was working on making sure all non-essential personnel made it home to their families safely and that they had what they needed during lockdown.  Aribella and Nat had worked alongside her to prepare as well as they could for not only their employees, but anything the team might need as well.  Tony and Steve had come to Pepper’s office to check on how things were going and share information.  Aribella and Nat were gone when they arrived, which was probably a good thing.  They needed to get working as soon as possible.

“We’ll need to keep a skeleton crew at the compound just in case.  Sam has a list of those that are volunteering to stay, a couple would like their families to stay with them as well.”  Pepper’s voice had a  tinge of exhaustion in it as she shared where they were with Tony and Steve.  

“Shouldn’t be a problem. The automated systems are enough to keep everyone safe.  We can always run over and check on them if need be.”  Tony responded, a bit distracted by the news on the screen in front of him.  

Steve was sitting on the couch, studying his Stark tablet when he heard the worry in Tony’s voice and looked up.  The banner at the bottom of the screen scrolled across with the numbers of those sick and infected and they seemed to climb every day.  He knew that Tony was using every resource at his disposal to try and help the World Health Organization and the CDC get ahold on this thing.  Sharing a quick glance with Pepper, Steve cleared his throat and tried to refocus his friend.

“Looks like all the agents on loan have been released to go back home.  Three of them have volunteered for anything we might need and are willing to come back should something happen that we need some help with.”

“Does that include your girl too?”  

Steve felt his face heat up at Tony’s playful tone but kept his eyes on the tablet.  It irked him being so transparent that his friends had picked up on his interest in Aribella.  Though their ribbing had been relatively gentle, Tony took every opportunity to goad him, especially when the lady in question wasn’t around.  

“Oh, she’s staying.”  

One dark and one light haired head whipped around to stare at Pepper.  Tony’s Cheshire grin seemed to engulf his face it was so wide and Steve…if Bucky were there he would remind his friend to close his mouth before he caught some flies in it.  The redhead’s face softened and she stood from her desk chair and walked over to her husband.  Learning into his side, she slid her hand over his chest and smiled sadly at them both.

“She offered to stay so some of the security guards could go home and be with their families.”

Brow crinkling, Steve rubbed his chest over his heart trying to soothe the ache there.  He knew why she had volunteered because he had stepped quite heavily into that minefield about one month after Ari  had joined them.  

“So tell us about your family Aribella.”  Steve’s words had been intended to continue the warm atmosphere of the night but seemed to have the opposite effect as he watched her face change. A small, sad smile formed on her lips and she took a drink of the beer before speaking.  

“Um, there’s not much to tell.  I actually grew up in the foster system.”  Her head came up to meet Steve’s gaze and saw the look of apology there as he opened his mouth to speak.  “It’s ok.” The hand not holding her drink was stretched in his direction, palm towards him as if to stop what she knew came next.  She continued, her voice taking on a softer tone.  “It’s not like I go around introducing myself as an orphan.  Please don’t feel bad about it.”  

Sitting next to her on the couch, Sam reached over and laid his hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.  

“You don’t have to offer anything you don’t want to.”  His quiet, soothing tone bringing a smile to her face.

“I don’t mind talking about it.  Just seems to bring the mood down when I do so I don’t tend to volunteer information unless it comes up.”

For the next hour or so the team had asked questions and Aribella answered them honestly, her instinct telling her that the information wouldn’t leave this group and that there would be no judgement of her upbringing.  While she was open, she left many details to herself that night.  Steve however, knew a bit more than his friends due to the late nights he and Aribella seemed to find themselves having.  

Being a super soldier Steve didn’t need a lot of sleep and often found himself restless in the early morning hours.  About a week after Ari’s revelation he found her on the balcony outside the kitchen, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a warm cup of tea held in her hands. She was staring blankly out onto the city and before he could consciously make the decision his feet carried him outside.

Despite obviously being tired, Ari greeted him with a warm smile and a raspy greeting.  That was the first of many talks they had shared with one another and over the next few months she opened up to Steve about her childhood.  It wasn’t always pleasant.  Six different foster families before she finally graduated high school and the last one’s…well they weren’t unhappy to see her go.  Just the money.  

Steve thanked whatever deity existed that she never suffered any abuse in her homes but his heart ached at the neglect she found.  Her first family was the most caring and the one she had for the longest.  They had desperately been trying for a child and decided to foster in the meantime.  Ari was just seven years old when she arrived at their house but it was filled with love and warmth.  

A couple of years after her arrival the wife finally became pregnant and Ari feared she would have to leave.  The couple reassured her they wanted her to stay but when the baby was born things changed. He was so sick and had so many issues they couldn’t manage both children.  To this day she remembered how heartbroken they were to have to send her back.

“Melinda was nearly inconsolable in her grief.  I remember, despite all the strain she was under, she was still so patient and kind to me.  It was just too much for them.  I don’t blame them at all.  In fact, I still keep in contact with them.”

Steve turned his head to study Ari’s face.  Anyone could hear the warmth and love in her voice for her first foster parents.  He also saw the glassiness of her eyes and the way her shoulders pulled in as if to protect herself.  

“How did their son fare, after you left?”  His quiet inquiry brought a genuine smile to her face, despite the tear that fell down her cheek.  

“Pretty healthy considering all the heart surgeries he’s had. Nathan is getting ready to graduate high school this year.”

The other families though…Steve had to remind himself that he could not go and visit them to give them a piece of his mind.  He was better than that, despite every bone in his body itching to do so.  Ari’s stories ranged from having to fix one of her foster family’s dinner every night, before she could do her homework or eat herself, to having to lock her door because she never knew if someone would try and take out their anger on her in their inebriated state.  She definitely considered herself lucky to have made it to 28 years and still be a relatively sane and mentally balanced individual.

If anything the stories had only endeared her to Steve even more.  He saw a young girl, alone with not much support, tough it out and make the best of her situation.  It wasn’t easy but he felt a sense of pride to hear how she had taken care of herself after graduating high school.  Signing up for SHIELD, finding a roommate and a place to live and working a part time job on the side.  On the few missions she had been on, most locally, he witnessed her kind and compassionate nature along with her ability to protect those around her.  Hell, he didn’t know anyone who didn’t like Ari.  

While she wasn’t as lithe and skilled as Natasha, she definitely knew how to defend herself and work with a team.  She had earned the respect of the Avengers for her brains and kindness along with her strong belief in hard work.  Steve wasn’t sure when his feelings for her had started to change but it had gotten to the point of distraction lately.  Possibly because they were all locked in together.

Her curves definitely did something for Steve as well, who had been caught by Bucky or Sam multiple times staring at their charge.  Sam would just smile that canary eating grin but Bucky would give him crap when they were alone.  

“Why the hell don’t you just ask her out, Punk.  For a coffee or something.  You know how much she likes her coffee.”

“She’s our teammate Buck.  I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

Bucky snorted and pushed Steve into the wall as they walked to the elevator.

“I’m relatively sure she wouldn’t complain ya big idiot. She’s almost as bad as you are with the puppy dog eyes.”

Those words had caused Steve to stop in the middle of the hall as he stared after the super soldier in disbelief.  The shit eating grin covering Bucky’s face barely registered as he waved his metal fingers in a  good bye gesture, the elevator doors closing and leaving Steve bewildered.

 Present Day

Rubbing his face roughly, Steve felt the stubble starting to grow and wondered how the hell he hadn’t realized he needed to shave in the last few days.  They’d been so busy working their asses off that basic hygiene seemed to suffer for everyone, not just himself.  Setting the tablet down he sat back in his chair and spun around to look out over the city.  It looked strange, even to someone who had viewed it before all the technology and millions of people came along.  

Streets were barren of cars and people, an odd one of both things here and there.  Many lights that were normally blindingly bright were dimmed or off completely giving the city a bit of an eerie feel.  He definitely didn’t like it but it meant that people were doing what they should me.  Staying home and staying safe.  

It was past dinner when Steve finally made his way towards the common room.  He had been so involved in the current information collected that he had lost track of time once again.  Meaning dinner was over and everyone was probably back in their rooms already.  Frowning, he clicked the tablet in his hands off and thought about what he needed to accomplish tonight.  

As he neared his destination a soothing guitar sound filled his ears and he lost all concentration when he rounded the corner.  Sitting on the ottoman was Ari.  Her acoustic guitar was perched on her left thigh, eyes closed and he could hear her humming quietly along with the tune she played.  It wouldn’t be the first time he had found her practicing in the big room, though usually Clint was here coaching her or singing while she played.

He grinned as he leaned against the wall and tried to quietly watch her.  She had her hair pulled back into a bun tonight, one of his favorites only because she couldn’t hide her face behind her hair.  Feet were bare, as usual, one leg tucked under the other as she sat up straight to play.  The tune was repetitive but the notes soothing with a mood he couldn’t quite put a finger on.  She made a few mistakes but plodded on and he watched as a proud tilt came to her lips.

“You’re getting better at that.”  He offered quietly, watching as she turned her head to gift him with a smile but continued playing.  A slight blush rose to her cheeks and he felt an ache in his chest at the sight.  Man, he had it bad.

“Thanks.  Though this is a pretty simple melody so I should be able to get it with as much as I’ve practiced.”  Her statement didn’t hold any negative feelings about her ability to play.  She had worked really hard on this song because it was one of her favorites and seemed to speak to her more than usual.

Smiling, he waited a few bars before he pushed off the wall and made his way to the chair a couple feet  in front of her and to her right.  He sat down heavily, leaning back into the cushion as he watched her fingers pluck out the notes gracefully.  Her eyes slid closed, her right foot tapping out a quiet pattern to the notes she played.

“What’s it called?”  

“Wonderwall.  It’s by an English band called Oasis.  It’s one of those songs that everybody knows and is usually sung by a lot of people.  Sometimes drunk.”

Steve laughed at her words and leaned forward resting his elbows on his thighs.  Their gazes locked for a moment before Ari looked down to hide what she was sure were her feelings written all over her face.  

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what’s a Wonderwall?”  There was a brief silence before Friday’s voice made them both jump, though his eyes didn’t leave Ari’s form while the AI answered his question.

“According to Urban Dictionary, a Wonderwall is somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly, and you are completely infatuated with.  Writer of the song, Noel Gallagher told BBC Radio 2 in 2002 “ It’s a song about an imaginary friend who’s gonna come and save you from yourself.”

Quietly, he thanked the AI and processed the information. It was just a song.  It didn’t mean anything, right?  She said it was popular and it sounded relatively simple to play.  However, Ari still hadn’t looked up and his stomach did a funny turn.  She obviously picked it because it meant something to her. Ari didn’t do things just because. There was always meaning or a reason for something.  Steeling himself for what could possibly be a mistake, he took a deep breath and gathered his courage.

“Will you sing it for me?” Steve’s soft request caused her head to shoot up and the air to catch in her throat.  Soft blue eyes met hers and she saw the compassion and genuine interest in them along with something else she couldn’t quite place.  Swallowing heavily, she nodded and cleared her throat willing her nerves to go away.  Fingers strummed nervously over the strings before she took a deep breath and started to play.

Today is gonna be the day That they're gonna throw it back to you By now you should've somehow Realized what you gotta do I don't believe that anybody Feels the way I do, about you now

Backbeat, the word was on the street That the fire in your heart is out I'm sure you've heard it all before But you never really had a doubt I don't believe that anybody Feels the way I do about you now

And all the roads we have to walk are winding And all the lights that lead us there are blinding There are many things that I Would like to say to you but I don't know how

Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me And after all, you're my wonderwall

Today was gonna be the day But they'll never throw it back to you By now you should've somehow Realized what you're not to do I don't believe that anybody Feels the way I do, about you now

And all the roads that lead you there are winding And all the lights that light the way are blinding There are many things that I Would like to say to you but I don't know how

I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me And after all, you're my wonderwall

I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me And after all, you're my wonderwall

I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me you're gonna be the one that saves me you're gonna be the one that saves me

It was comfortably silent in the room as she strummed the last few notes and Steve could see her fingers shaking against the strings.  Slowly, he reached over and wrapped his fingers around the neck of the guitar and pulled it gently away from her.  Ari’s eyes shot open and met his, a gentle smile coming to his lips at the vulnerability he saw.  Steve didn’t break eye contact as he set the instrument down to his left and slid to the floor on his knees.  His hands rested on the padded surface beside her thighs, not touching but ready to move in an instant if he felt any sort of alarm or resistance from the beautiful woman in front of him.  

He brought his hands up to cup her face, resting them gently on either side as if he held the most precious thing in the world.  Her pulse raced under his hands and he smiled, his thumbs feathering back and forth over her cheeks.

“Breathe sweetheart. I’m not sure I can handle it if you pass out on me.”  Ari gave a wavering laugh at his levity and took a deep breath, her eyes closing as he held her.  She felt his breath wash across her lips before he lightly skimmed his mouth across hers.  

First kisses were always special, at least hers had been.  This one though, was soft, sweet and short circuited her brain.  Every pass of his soft lips on hers, he increased the pressure slightly, sending her heart flying.  Her hands came up to rest on his forearms earning a hum from the sweet man who was kneeling in front of her.  

Ari’s lips parted and Steve wasted no time deepening the kiss.  He was still gentle, but his tongue slid across her lips then dipped inside to find hers.  One of his hands left her face to wrap around her hip as he pulled his body into hers, chest to chest, and tilted his head to gain better access.  

Neither knew how long they became lost in one another but finally the urge to breathe won out and Steve pulled back.  Resting his forehead against hers they both fought to catch some air, hearts racing in their chests.  Both remained silent, Steve’s eyes sliding open as he pulled back from her.  When she finally met his gaze he smiled, his thumb rubbing over her cheek softly.

“Since you haven’t decked me yet I’m assuming that was ok.”

Throwing her head back, Ari let out a belly laugh at his words.  Steve’s grin deepened as the sound of her happiness made the pace of his heart pick up again.  Her hazel eyes met his as they crinkled with her humor and she leaned forward to place a kiss to his lips.  

“It was more than ok. It was wonderful.”  

“It’s about damn time.” The baritone voice from the hallway surprised them, causing Ari to yelp and move quickly towards Steve. Unprepared for both their audience and Ari’s reaction, Steve lost his balance and wrapped his arms around her waist as he tumbled backwards with an oomph.  

Neither one of them heard footsteps but suddenly Bucky’s dark head was over them, hands on his thighs as he grinned in their direction.  

“How long have you been there?”  Steve asked confused, still trying to wrap his brain around what just happened.  

“Don’t worry.  I wasn’t spying on you two.  I came to get a drink and well, you didn’t notice because you were slobbering all over each other.”  

“Buck!”  Steve admonished his friend while Ari hid her face in his chest and laughed.  

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it.  I’m glad you two finally figured it the fuck out.  It was exhausting and frankly nauseating watching you two make eyes at each other.”  Bucky’s words might have been harsh but the smile on his face spoke volumes.  He was genuinely happy for his friends and glad he was the one that caught them, not Tony or one of the others.  “Imma go get my drink and leave you kids alone.”  With a salacious wiggle of his brows, Bucky turned to go into the kitchen while Ari and Steve stayed right where they were.  

Steve felt contentment wash over him, as Ari’s palm rested on his chest and her head settled on his shoulder.  He reached up to wrap her hand in his and felt sure that the smile on his face was going to be permanent.  The smile was gone with Bucky’s next words.

“You two might want to skedaddle in case one of the others come in here.  They won’t be quite so nice about finding you two in a compromising position as I am.”  As he was leaving the room he heard Steve’s snort and Ari’s giggle and found himself smiling almost as big as Steve had been just moments before.  It was good to see his friends happy, now he had to go and find Sam to tell him the good news.

 Thanks for reading!  

[heydisneyhiremeplease]

“You Really Can Sing!”

Word Count: 2,627

Warnings: None

Timeline: Takes place after Age of Ultron.

Imagine Key:

“y/f/c” = your favorite color

You checked your speed as you drove through the small local town, not wanting to get a ticket in Tony Stark’s car.  Since you didn’t own a car yourself, you talked Tony into letting you borrow his to go out and get groceries for everyone periodically.  He had agreed pretty easily, knowing how cautious you generally were, but had still given you one of his trademark “don’t break my toy” looks.  You were surprised he didn’t have you sign a formal written agreement.  You followed a pretty crazy list of everyone’s orders at the store, which included Poptarts for the Tower’s resident Asgardian.  You also bought vegetables and fruit, thinking maybe you could somehow convince some of the others to eat them.  Most of them wouldn’t be a problem, certainly not Steve, but with Tony and Thor you’d either have to force-feed them the veggies or sneak the healthy food into a dessert.

On your way back, you began singing along to the radio as the station played a current hit.  It was your favorite song at the moment, and since no one was around you sang as loudly as you wanted.  Your phone went off while you were stopped at a red light, and you reached over into the passenger seat to silence the ringing.  It was Tony, probably just curious about your ETA.  You were almost home, so you didn’t worry about picking up.

In truth, you loved singing and listening to music, but with the Facility so crowded with people who would probably just laugh at you for your song choices, you never did.  You felt free, and as you pulled into the Avenger Facility’s massive garage, you were sad that it had to end so soon.  Turning the radio back down, you shut off the car and carried the groceries inside.  As you unpacked the food and put it away, you were startled by sudden loud clapping coming from behind you.  You jumped a foot in the air and spun around to see the whole team applauding you.  You put a hand over your racing heart and tried to catch your breath, saying, “All I did was pick up some groceries, guys.  Didn’t even spend my own money, Tony paid for everything.”

“That is not what we are clapping for.” Thor clarified.  “You are a wonderful songstress, Lady (Y/N)!”  Your face immediately burned as red as the apples you’d just purchased.  How did they know you liked to sing?  You hadn’t so much as hummed quietly to yourself since you joined the team.  Guessing your confusion, Tony stepped forward.  “I didn’t spend as much as I did on that car for you not to connect your phone to it via Bluetooth.” he said in his usual snarky voice.  The puzzle pieces clicked into place in your mind, the great mystery suddenly solved.  You had never bothered to sync your phone to Tony’s car because you only ever took it out for trips to the store.  When he called you, you must have accidentally accepted the call instead of declining it.  You didn’t notice because the radio continued playing.  If your phone had been connected, the music would have shut off while you took the call.  The next part you assumed: Tony didn’t hang up when he realized you weren’t aware he was talking to you, but instead took his phone to show the others.

You dropped your head into your hands, wanting to hide somehow or disappear altogether.  “Oh no,” you whispered.  They knew.  They all knew.  Now they would tease you relentlessly for it.  “Why are you so embarrassed?” you heard Wanda question, walking over and lightly tugging your hands away from your face to make you look up.  “You’re a beautiful singer.  You should let me play music for you to sing to.”  You knew she referenced her guitar, for which she had little use other than to strum quietly every now and again to check if the strings were in tune.  “Oh, that would be lovely!” Vision said, in his gentle yet sincere voice.  You knew the comment was mainly for Wanda, whose knowledge of music he found fascinating.

“Okay,” you said nervously.  Maybe you’d do it, maybe not, but in that moment all you wanted was for the conversation to end so you could head back to your room and hide.  They took it as a sincere agreement, a promise to entertain them later, and clapped once more.  You were very upset by that point, and nodded uncomfortably before turning around to finish putting the cold items in the fridge.  You would get out of it somehow.  But to your chagrin, a couple hours later, Wanda knocked on your bedroom door to ask if you wanted to run through the song they’d caught you singing earlier before performing it.  She had learned how to play it and was excited to show everyone.  “Umm…” you stalled.  Wanda could read minds, why had she not seen that you were lying before?  “I know you’re nervous and that it bothers you that we know, but we enjoy your singing so much.  We honestly want to hear it.” she promised, coming over to sit on your bed with you and wrap an arm around your shoulder.  “I don’t think I can do it.” you confided, wide-eyed fear and panic present on your face.

“It is up to you in the end, (Y/N), but I would not lie to you.  And Vision would not either.  He still isn’t sure what the point of lying is.” Wanda giggled.  You were all still working on teaching Vision about living among humanity.  “Wanda,” you started, “Vision just wants to hear you play.  He likes you.  He doesn’t care what I do.”  Wanda rolled her eyes.  You had been persistently telling her about Vision’s crush, but she liked to laugh it off.  You knew that was because, deep down, she was falling for him and was too scared to become fully attached to someone she might lose.  “Well, I would like to hear you again.  Please, just run through it with me once and we can discuss the others another day.  I spent time learning this song for you, after all.” Wanda reasoned.  You knew she was right, so you sat still as she rolled through the song’s introductory chords before coming in on the first verse.  You finished the song a couple minutes later, and felt happy like you had accomplished something big.  “See?  That was not so bad!” Wanda exclaimed, nudging you in the shoulder.  You rolled your eyes, blushing.  “Maybe you will have some more confidence now.” she commented.  You doubted it, but didn’t fight her.

You both decided it was a good time to venture out to the kitchen to grab a couple of the apples you had bought, and when you opened your door, you saw the whole team standing outside of it.  The closest members nearly fell over on you as their support was pulled away.  Your joyousness faded to pure horror.  “How long have you guys been here?” you asked.  You knew the answer.  “Oh, you know, maybe three or four minutes.” Tony said.  You pushed past them, not wanting a repeat of the scene in the kitchen from a couple hours prior.  As you washed an apple, you felt tears prick at your eyes.  You felt betrayed, especially since Wanda had probably been able to tell that they were there.  Maybe she had even planned it.  “(Y/N), please don’t be mad at us.” Nat said softly from behind you.  “Too late for that.” you answered, a certain dejectedness cutting in your voice.  Nat sighed.  “Well, it was pretty.  You really are a good singer.”  You heard her retreating footsteps, and relaxed just a little.  You didn‘t want any of them coming up to you.  However, in one way or another, each member of the team offered you encouragement or an apology one by one over the course of the evening.

First, you returned to your room to find a note taped to your door in Bruce’s handwriting: “I’m sorry we snuck up on you.  I know I hate it when people do that to me.  At least you turn red and not green.”  As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but smile just a little at Bruce’s joke.  Next, Steve stopped you in the hall before dinner, and put a hand on your back as he walked with you down the hall.  “Sometimes people can be bullies.  Even the ones you least expect.  I’m sorry, (Y/N).”  You nodded in appreciation of his complete sincerity, but also in annoyance.  You just wanted the whole thing to go away, like it never happened.  But that would have been too easy, so the apologies and compliments continued until only Thor and Tony were left.

Thor caught you in the living room, where you were sitting on the couch checking your phone.  “Good evening, Lady (Y/N).” he started.  He was so amicable sometimes, with that twinkle in his eye, that it made you want to vomit.  You supposed that it came from being raised as a prince and having to impress and placate people all the time.  Not that Thor was always princely; he could certainly be barbaric as well.  But right at that moment, he wanted to get back on your good side, and he was turning on the charm.  “Hello, Thor.” you answered him, polite in word only.  Your tone was poisonous.  “I come bearing a peace offering, in hopes that you will grant me your forgiveness for my regrettable past behaviors.” he orated.  At this, you looked up, curious as to what he might have brought you.  It was a large (y/f/c) diamond.  Your eyes widened.  “Thor…is that…a real diamond?” you asked, knowing that anything was possible when it came to Thor’s shenanigans.  He seemed terribly confused.  “Well of course!  Are there fake diamonds on Midgard?”

You were stunned into silence for a moment.  Then, “Thor, where did you get that?”  He answered confidently and matter-of-factly.  “I returned to Asgard and retrieved it from Odin’s vault.  He will not miss it, there must be a thousand there exactly like it.”  He paused for a moment.  “Would you like more than one?  I might be able to slip in and out a second time to procure you another.  Or a dozen more!  Whatever you like.”  He smiled his princely smile, and you sat there with your eyebrows creased together.  That was the thing about Thor: his intentions were always good, but his actions were always over-the-top.

Because you knew he was completely serious, you answered, “No, no, just the one is more than enough.”  You stopped then, before finally realizing he expected you to confirm your forgiveness of his crime.  “I forgive you now.” you added.  If it was possible, his smile grew.  “Oh, that is most wonderful news, my friend.  I could not have lived another moment knowing I had offended you.  Shall I leave your gift in your quarters?  I fear it will be too heavy for your mortal hands to carry.” he said.  “Yes, that would be great.  Thank you, Thor.” you answered, and watched him finally walk out of the room, seemingly with a new spring in his step.  You rolled your eyes and laid an arm over your forehead, feeling a headache coming on.

You were getting a glass of water before going to shower when Tony crept up on you.  He scared you, and you had a brief coughing fit as some water went down the wrong way.  “Sorry about that.  Well, anyway, it’s too bad about the whole trying-to-get-you-to-sing-for-us thing.  I mean, most people would want that, usually the really bad singers, but hey, we’re all weird here.  Are we good?” he finished, holding his hand out for you to shake.  You looked at it, then up at him in minor disbelief.  It wasn’t a real apology.  You shook your head and turned around.  As usual, Tony didn’t get it.  “Hey, what’s wrong?” he called after you.  You debated whether or not to actually tell him.  When you heard his footsteps following you, you decided you’d had enough of being chased down for one day, and you exploded.  “What’s wrong?” you imitated.  “It was an accident that I answered your call in the car, Tony!  And when you realized it was, you didn’t just hang up like a polite person, you took the phone around and showed everyone.  I didn’t give you permission to do that!  I never sing here, why did you think that I would be fine with this?”  You had tears in your eyes, and you knew all the hurt that had been building up inside of you since the incident was written on your face.

Tony looked completely shocked.  “I…I…” was all he got out.  You locked eyes with him, allowing him to see your shame and embarrassment, which he had caused.  Suddenly, he spoke: “I’m sorry, (Y/N).  I really didn’t think it would be a big deal.  You’re a great singer, I knew everyone would be proud of you and want to hear it, I just went with my first thought.  I should’ve known.  I’m sorry.”  You were taken aback.  A real apology, from Tony Stark.  Maybe it was the surprise, maybe it was the fact that he meant it, but your response was immediate forgiveness.  “Okay.  Thank you.” you said.  “Really?  J-Just like that?” Tony asked.  Now he was the one who was surprised. “Yeah.  You apologized, so has everyone else more or less.  I’m fine.  What happened, happened.  And the more I think about it, some of it’s my fault.  I should’ve been paying a lot more attention to what was going on.  I might’ve noticed your voice coming from my phone if the radio wasn’t so loud.  So, I’m kind of sorry, too.”

Out of nowhere, Wanda appeared and wrapped you in a hug, followed by the rest of the team.  There was a great chorus of “I’m sorry!” and “You really can sing!” before you were finally released from the center of the pile.  “So, will you sing for us now?” Wanda asked, just as hopeful as before.  She was holding her guitar by its neck, and you wondered how it had avoided being crushed in the hug.  The rest of the team had puppy dog eyes, and the excitement on Tony’s face was what led you to finally concede. “Okay!  But just this once.” you said, equal parts exasperation and joy.  Yes, you would sing for them.  If it would finally get them off your back, you would sing for them.

But it wasn’t just once.  It was many times, because after that night, when you denied them a second song, the team got crafty.  They started playing music in the Facility all the time, knowing that if they left it going you would begin to absentmindedly sing along.  They let you pick your favorite Disney movie on movie night, which they had previously always vetoed, hoping you would join in with the musical numbers.  Tony bought you tickets to a concert by your favorite artist, figuring that the songs would be stuck in your head for a couple days and you’d sing them without thinking. ��Wanda would strum your favorite songs on the guitar, and Nat would gently hum them, betting that once a tune was started you would finish it.  In these ways, they listened to you sing all the time.  It took you a month to figure out what they were doing, but once you did, you were never more grateful for the day that Tony Stark betrayed your biggest secret.

Note: This one has existed for a pretty good while, but I felt like it wasn’t ready to go yet.  Went over it again today and after some changes, I think it’s halfway decent.  Hope you thought it was cute.

Masterlist!