Hi! I'm the weirdo who doesn't know how to use Tumblr. :3 "Rescue" with JonDami please? ^-^
Yo! Hi! Here’s your drabble!
Damian has to go to a gala.
Damian doesn’t want to go a gala.
“You have to go!” Father shouts as Damian storms his way into the cave.
Damian knows he has to.
But the entire evening will be boring and he’ll be surrounded by ladies who for some reason want to give his cheeks a pinch.
Luckily, he has a boyfriend who’s willing to help out.
“Thank you.” Damian hisses as he ducks behind Jon as one of those women pass by, giggling and drinking champagne.
“It’s not a problem.” Jon replies, smiling politely the way his mom taught him at a waiter who passes by.
(Clark may not know, but Jon has journalist in his blood and Lois is only encouraging this by teaching her son the tricks of the trade.)
“No, but they wouldn’t stop touching me.” Damian says, throwing a glare.
Jon laughs. “Don’t worry, Damian. I’ll always be there to rescue you.” He winks over his shoulder as another group walks past saying Oh, where is that Wayne boy. I want to give him a hug. and watches as Damian shivers and repositions Jon in front of him.
How did our clothes end up all on the floor? Didn’t we just break each other’s hearts? Didn’t you have one foot out of the door?
A comfortable silence had
fallen over the small apartment, interrupted only by the rhythmic tick and tock of the neatly hung wall clock just above the mantle. The quiet
made you acutely aware of the likely argument that would ensue the moment Bucky
walked through the door, and despite that knowledge, you remained pleasantly numb to the
situation. A numbness you attributed to your increasing inebriation and being more
than accustomed to Bucky’s broken promises.
“I don’t have a relationship with her now, really, but that’s not because we have any bad blood – we just sort of run in different circles.”
“I still think 'Wrecking Ball’ is one of the best pop songs of the last 10 years. And you know, she’s always been outspoken and authentic to who she is, so it was only a matter of time before she really owned that, and I’m proud of her.”
The pub was noisy and warm. Lily sat alone at small table by a window, where she could see the street outside as well as the whole wood-panelled room she was in. The place was packed with people who were laughing, chatting, eating, drinking; celebrating.
She wasn’t in a very festive mood. Glumly, she pushed the few remaining chips around on her plate. Still, she did agree that there was a cause to celebrate – in two more hours this miserable year would be over.
Twelve months. It didn’t seem like such a long time, so how come everything had changed?
It had started with her mother. They had buried her in March, and the devastation of Mrs Evans’ passing was what had finally driven Lily and her estranged sister apart, seemingly for good. Just like that, Lily suddenly had no family left.
She’d started growing apart from her friends as well. After graduating from university in June they had all gone their separate ways and in that initial rush of getting used to being a full-fledged adult with a full-time job she’d fallen out of contact with most of them. The longer she’d gone without talking to them, the harder it became to start a conversation.
Then, in October, she’d finally grown fed up with making excuses for her childhood friend. Hard though it had been, she’d told him she was done with him; she hadn’t liked the person he had grown up to be. He’d fallen into a bad crowd quite a while back, really, but Lily had been hanging on, thinking the boy she had befriended was still in there, somewhere. Until she had finally realised she didn’t know who he was anymore and had no more room in her life for the likes of him.
And that was why, for the first time, she was going to welcome the new year all alone. Well, at least she had made some effort; instead of staying home with her cat, feeling all pathetic and sorry for herself, she had gone to the pub.
♣ ‘I get oil paintings from fans, computer-generated arts from fans, fans approaching me in the toilet, fans approaching me in the sauna. It’s a Champagne problem but I can’t go anywhere without a ‘Wait, aren’t you…?’’’