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lorenfangor · 3 years ago

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I heard that #40 was super homophobic :/ so I skipped it. But now your fic is making me want to give it a try. How problematic is it? Are the characters worth it?

Okay.

Let’s talk about #40.

The plot of The Other (a Marco POV) is that Marco sees an Andalite on a video tape sent in to some Unsolved Mysteries-esque TV show, and he assumes it’s Ax and hauls ass to save him from being captured. Ax, being Ax, has videotaped the show, and they pull it up and Tobias uses his hawk eyes to figure out that it’s not Ax, it’s another Andalite - one without a tailblade. Ax is appalled at the presence of this vecol (an Andalite word for a disabled person) and we find out that he and others of his species have deep ingrained prejudices against at least some kinds of disabled people.

Despite this, Marco and Ax go looking for the Andalite in question because he’s been spotted by national TV, and they meet a second one, named Gafinilan-Estrif-Valad. The vecol is Mertil-Iscar-Elmand, a former fighter pilot with a reputation and Gafinilan’s coded-gay life partner. The two of them have been on Earth since book 1; they crashed their fighters on the planet and have been trapped there thanks to the GalaxyTree going down. Gafinilan has adopted a human cover, a physics professor, and they’ve been living in secret ever since.

Thanks to that tape, Mertil has been captured by Visser Three, and he’s not morph-capable so he can’t escape. Gafinilan wants to trade the leader of the “Andalite Bandits” to the Yeerks to get his boyfriend back; he can’t fight to free Mertil because he’s terminally ill with a genetic disorder that will eventually kill him, and (it’s implied that) the Yeerks aren’t interested in disabled hosts, even disabled Andalite ones. Despite Ax’s ableism, the Animorphs agree to work with Gafinilan and free Mertil, and they’re successful. Marco ends the book talking about how there are all kinds of prejudices you’ll have to face and boxes that people will put you in, and you can’t necessarily escape them even if they’re reductive and inaccurate, but you can still live your life with pride.

So now that I’ve explained the plot, I’m gonna come out the gate saying that I love this book. I love it wholeheartedly, I love Marco’s narration, I love Ax having to deal with Andalite society’s ableism, I love these characters, and as a disabled lesbian I don’t find these disabled gays to be inherently Bad Rep.

that’s of course just my opinion and it doesn’t overshadow other issues that people might have? but at the same time, I don’t like the seemingly-common narrative that this book is all bad all the time, and I want to offer up a different read.To that end, I’m going to go point by point through some of the criticisms and common complaints that I’ve seen across the fandom over the years.

“Mertil and Gafinilan were put on a bus after one appearance because they were gay!”

this is one I’m going to have to disagree with hardcore. I talked about this yesterday, but in Animorphs there are a lot of characters or ideas that only get introduced once or twice and then get written off or dropped - in order off the top of my head, #11 (the Amazon trip), #16 (Fenestre and his cannibalism), #17 (the oatmeal), #18 (the hint of Yeerks doing genetic experiments in the hospital basement), #24/#39/#42 (the Helmacrons’ ability to detect morphing tech), #25 (the Venber), #28 (experiments with limiting brain function through drugs), #34 (the Hork-Bajir homeworld being retaken, the Ixcila procedure), #36 (the Nartec), #41 (Jake’s Bad Future Dream), and #44 (the Aboriginal people Cassie meets in Australia) all feature things that either seem to exist just for the sake of having a particular trope explored Animorphs-style or to feature an idea for One Single Book.

This is a series that’s episodic and has a very limited overall story arc because of how children’s literature in the 90s was structured - these books are closer to The Saddle Club, Sweet Valley High, Animal Ark, or The Baby-Sitters’ Club than they are to Harry Potter or A Series of Unfortunate Events. Mertil and Gafinilan don’t get to be in more than one book because they’re not established in the main cast or the supporting cast, I don’t think that it’s solely got anything to do with their being gay.

“Gafinilan has AIDS, this is a book about AIDS, and that’s homophobic!”

Okay, this is… hard. First, yes, Gafinilan does have a terminal illness. Yes, Gafinilan is gay. No, Soola’s Disease is not AIDS.

I have two responses to this, and I’ll attack them in order of their occurrence in my thought. First, there’s coded AIDS diseases all over genre fiction, especially genre fiction from that era, because the AIDS epidemic made a massive impact on public life and fundamentally changed both how the public perceived illness and queerness and how queer people themselves experienced it. I was too young to live through it, but my dad’s college roommate was out, and my dad himself has a lot of friends who he just ceases to talk about if the conversation gets past 1986 or so - this was devastating and it got examined in art for more reasons than “gay people all have AIDS”, and I dislike the implication that the only reason it could ever appear was as a tired stereotype or a message that Being Queer Means Death. Gafinilan is kind, fond of flowers, and fond of children - he’s multifaceted, and he’s got a terminal illness. Those kinds of people really exist, and they aren’t Bad Rep.

Second off, Soola’s Disease? Really isn’t AIDS. It’s a congenital genetic illness that develops over time, cannot be transmitted, and does not carry a serious stigma the way AIDS did. Gafinilan also has access to a cure - he could become a nothlit and no longer be afflicted by it, even if it’s considered somewhat dishonorable to go nothlit to escape that way. That’s not AIDS, and in fact at no point in my read and rereads did I assume that his having a terminal illness was supposed to be a commentary on homosexuality until I found out that other people were assuming it.

“Mertil losing his tail means he’s lost his masculinity, and that’s bad because he’s gay! That’s homophobic!”

so this is another one I’ve gotta hardcore disagree with, because while Mertil is one of two Very Obviously Queer Characters, he’s not the only character who loses something fundamental about himself, or even loses access to sexual and/or romantic capability in ways he was familiar with.

Tobias and Arbron both get ripped out of their ordinary normal lives by going nothlit in bad situations, and while they both wind up finding fulfillment and freedom despite that, it’s still traumatic, even more for Arbron I’d say than for Tobias. And on a psychological level, none of the main cast is left unmarked or free of trauma or free of deep change thanks to the bad things that have happened to them - they’re no less fundamentally altered than Mertil, even if it’s mental rather than physical. And yes, tail loss is equated with castration or emasculation, but that doesn’t automatically mean Mertil suffering it is tied to his homosexuality and therefore the takeaway we’re intended to have is “Being gay is tragic and makes you less of a man”. This is a series where bad shit happens to everyone, and enduring losses that take away things central to one’s self-conception or identity or body is just part of the story.

Also, frankly? Plenty of IRL disabled people have to grapple with a loss of sexual function, and again, they’re not Bad Rep just because they’re messy.

“Andalite society is confusingly written in this book, and the disability aspects are clearly just a coverup for the gay stuff!”

Andalite society is canonically sexist, a bit exceptionalist and prejudiced in their own favor, and pretty contradictory and often challenged internally on its own norms. In essence, it’s a pretty ordinary society, and they’re really realistic as sci-fi races go. It makes sense from that perspective that Andalites would tolerate scarring or a lost stalk eye or a lost skull eye, but not tolerate serious injuries that significantly impact your perceived quality of life. Ableism is like that - it’s not one-size-fits-all. I look at Ax’s reactions and I see a lot of my own family and friends’ behaviors - this vibes with my understanding of prejudice, you know?

“Mertil and Gafinilan have a tragic ending, which means the story is saying that being gay dooms you to tragedy!”

Mertil and Gafinilan have the best possible ending that they could ask for? They are victims of the war, they are suffering because of the war, they get the same cocktail of trauma and damage that every other soldier gets. But unlike Jake and Tobias and Marco, unlike Elfangor, unlike Aximili? Their ending comes in peace, in their own home. Gafinilan isn’t dying alone, he’s got the love of his life with him. Mertil isn’t going to be as isolated anymore, he’s got Marco for a friend. Animorphs is a tragedy, it’s not a happy story, it’s not something that guarantees a beautiful sunshine-and-roses ending for everyone, and I love tragedy, and so I will fight for this story. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it deserved better. But it’s not less meaningful just because it’s sad. Nobody is entitled to anything in this book, and it’s just as true for these two as it is for anyone else.

“It’s not cool that the only canonically gay characters in this series don’t get to be happy and trauma-free and unblemished Good Rep!”

This is one I can kind of understand, and I’ll give some ground to it, because it is sucky. The only thing I’ll say is that I stand by my argument that nothing that happens to Mertil and Gafinilan is unusual compared to what happens to the rest of the cast, and that their ending is way happier than Rachel and Tobias’s, or Jake and Cassie’s. But it’s a legitimate point of frustration, and the one argument I’ll say I agree has validity.

(Though, I also want to point out that I think there are plenty of equally queercoded characters in the story who aren’t Mertil and Gafinilan - Tobias, Rachel, Cassie, and Marco all get at least one or two moments that signal to me that they’re potentially LGBT+, not to mention Mr. Tidwell and Illim in #29 and their long-term domestic partnership. There’s no reason to assume that the only queer people here are those two aliens when Marco’s descriptions of Jake exist.)

“Marco uses slurs and reduces Gafinilan’s whole identity to his illness!”

Technically, yes, this is true, except putting it that way strips the whole passage of its context. Marco is discussing the boxes society puts you into, the ones you don’t have a choice about facing or escaping. He’s talking about negative stereotypes and reductive generalizations, he’s referring to them as bad things that you get inflicted upon you by an outside world or by friends who don’t know the whole story or the real you. The slurs he uses are real slurs that get thrown at people still, and they’re not okay, and the point is that they’re not okay but assholes are going to call you by them anyway. He ends by saying “you just have to learn to live with it”, and since this is coming from a fifteen-year-old Latino kid who we know is picked on by bullies for all sorts of reasons and who faces racism and homophobia? He knows what he’s talking about. He’s bitter about what’s been said and done, he’s not stating it like it’s a good thing.

Yes, absolutely, this speech is a product of its time, but it’s a product of its time that speaks of defiance and says “We aren’t what we’re said to be,” and in the year this was published? That’s a good message.

tl;dr The Other is good, actually, and Mertil and Gafinilan are incredible characters who deserve all the love they could possibly get.

#animorphs #animorphs meta #mertil/gafinilan #mertil #gafinilan #mertil-iscar-elmand #gafinilan-estrif-valad

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emerald-chaos · 4 years ago

Text

Insomnia

*gif not made by me, credit goes to the owner*

Hi Everyone! So it's been probably like...10 years since I wrote my last fic lol. Watching TFATWS has rekindled my undying love for Bucky Barnes and I just couldn't help but start writing again. I had to get my feelings out! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've been considering writing some more parts...so tell me if that's something you'd be interested in! I appreciate any and all constructive feedback or just feedback in general! Much love.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2533 (lowkey popped off...oops)

Warnings: Just in case...vague allusions to a dark past, struggles with mental illness, explicit language, and some suggestive conversation. Oh and some really bad jokes lol. Fluffy and angsty.

No matter how much you tossed and turned, how many sheep you counted, or how much you prayed and pleaded to any higher power that would listen – the release of sleep just wasn’t going to happen. You’re not sure why you were surprised, it’s not like this was the first time. You let out a heavy sigh and toss off the covers. This has been a nightly occurrence for as long as you can remember. When you were trying to rest, when there was no noise to block out the images in your head, it was a battle. A battle which you have always lost.

You flip on the bright florescent lights of the bathroom as you trudge in, dragging your feet in exhaustion. It takes a minute for your eyes to adjust to the harshness of the light as you place your hands onto the countertop. The cool marble feels good against your palms as you close your eyes and lean your head back, another sigh leaving your lips. You twist your neck from side to side, trying to release some tension and maybe get a satisfying pop. No such luck. As you open your eyes and gaze upon the person staring back at you a small laugh tumbles from your chest.

Jesus, she looks awful.

The dark circles that permanently reside below your eyes appear more pronounced than usual. The corners of your mouth hang low and you just look…tired. Like you were rode hard and put away wet.

The bottle of melatonin tucked away on your counter catches your eye. You pick it up and twirl it as you inspect the writing. “Sleep Support” you read, “may help promote restful sleep”. What a load of shit. You place the bottle back down and inspect the orange one next to it. The pills inside were about as useful as the melatonin. Nothing seemed to quiet the voices or stop the scenarios that plagued your mind. You splash some cold water on your face and grab for a towel to pat it dry. Your eyes drift to the mirror again, as if though the water was going to wash away the dead look in your eyes.

Yeah, fat chance.

Before you know it, your legs are carrying you through the compound. The only sounds present are the whirring of various appliances and the soft patter of your feet against the tile floors. The moonlight casts shadows over the various pieces of furniture and lights your path. Your fingers curl around the handle as you pull the sliding glass door open. The crisp outside air kisses your skin as you step out and close the door behind you. You find yourself settling down in your usual spot on the balcony and you sink into the comfort of the chair.

Many a sleepless night has been spent out here, admiring the way the moonlight gleams off of a nearby pond. Before the compound and the balcony, it was a fire escape and a bottle of bourbon. You kind of missed that coping mechanism a little bit. You were thankful, of course, to call this place your home. Thankful to feel safe for once. Thankful to be a part of a team that felt like more of a family than any sorry piece of shit who had been in your life before. Not that you were bitter about that or anything. A little baggage builds character. However, life hasn’t always been kind to you and your stupid brain had a cruel way of constantly reminding you of that fact.

In all honesty, Tony rescued you. You absolutely hated to allow him to relish in that fact, but it was true. He took a chance on a royally fucked up kid out of college who managed to skate by and earn a mechanical engineering degree. If you were to ask him, he would say it was because the first words you said to him were fuck off. Apparently, something about that translated to, “hey, I would be a great addition to your tech and development team”. Although, you were pretty sure you just really meant that he should fuck off. I mean, the guy’s reputation does have a bit of moral gray area to it. Somehow, some way, your tenacity made an impression on the billionaire. Now here you were - living at the Avenger’s compound, sitting on a balcony at 3:30 in the morning because you couldn’t turn your brain off long enough to find some peace and sleep. What a life.

Even as you were sitting here in your special spot, reminiscing about some actual good memories – your brain still tried to drift into the darkness. Glass breaking; voices, thick with hate, engaged in a screaming match, and the cold nights spent trying to find a safe space to eat and lay your head. Your fingers gripped into the arms of the chair as you felt the heaviness in your chest increase.

“God damn it,” you cursed through gritted teeth.

The panic attacks were a second nature at this point, but you still really hated when you lost control. Your eyes closed tight as you tried to rack your brain to remember the bullshit your therapist had told you earlier in the week. Something about 5 things you can see?

“We gotta stop meeting like this, Doll”

The voice ripped you from inside your mind and back to reality. Your eyes opened and were met with a beautiful pair of cerulean ones. You blamed the skip in your heartbeat on your fading panic attack - although, you knew better than that.

“Well, it seems to me that the only logical conclusion is that you’re stalking me, Barnes” you quipped as a grin spread across your face.

“Could say the same about you,” Bucky retorted as he sank into the chair beside you, “besides, been doin’ this a lot longer than you’ve been around”.

You rolled your eyes, but the super soldier had a point. Almost each and every time, aside from the ones that happened when the team was away, you two would meet like this – here on the balcony, both searching for something to replace the sleep that neither of you could find.

“Yeah, we get it, you’re old” a laugh fell from your lips as Bucky snorted at your remark, a grin remaining ever present on his lips.

The familiar silence took over as he leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. Meanwhile, yours were hungrily taking him in - tracing over the stubble on his chin, the soft pinkness of his parted lips. Recently he’d gotten his hair cut and even though you much preferred the long hair, you would rather die than actually admit that to him. Your crush on the 106 year old grumpy ass was one of your best kept secrets. At least, you thought you’d kept it from being painfully obvious.

The man sitting before you, he had a tough exterior and a horrific history, but you knew him better than that. You knew about the way his nose scrunched up when you made him laugh and the way his eyes looked as he listened intently to every story you ever told him. You knew the sweet melody of his laugh and the far off stare that meant he was also held captive by his own thoughts. This late-night rendezvous had become somewhat of a routine for the two of you and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite part of the day.

The first time it was a short nod and typical white person, thin-lipped smile as you left to find a different spot to suffer alone. Shortly after, it developed into cohabiting the balcony – staying on your own separate sides of course, only occasionally sharing words. Then, before you knew it, the two of you would be sitting beside each other, shooting the shit like you’d known each other for years. Just two, incredibly fucked up individuals, trying to make each other feel a little more human.

Bucky had always given off the quiet, brooding energy. Typically he kept to himself, other than with close friends like Steve, choosing to stand in the corner and listen to the conversation rather than be a part of it. Occasionally he would give a quip during a meeting that would catch people off guard, but mostly he just sat there and stared. The Bucky you had come to know was nothing like the person that others wanted to make him out to be. Sure, at one point he was a masterful assassin who killed like he got pleasure from it – but that wasn’t him. The Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes were not synonymous.

If only the world could meet Bucky at 3am.

“What’s going on in that empty head of yours over there?” Bucky’s voice once again brought you back to reality as you laid your eyes on the familiar grin plastered across his face.

“Please,” you huffed, cheeks tinted a light shade of pink at the thought of him catching you staring, “which one of us has a college degree again?”

His laugh was a symphony to your ears. Your smile mirrored his when he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you.

“So, what is it tonight? That nightmare again?” he asked, voice dropping an octave as his facial features softened in a way you really hoped only you got to see.

“Mm, not quite” you responded, your voice a broken whisper.

Bucky wasn’t the type to pry, but with you he wouldn’t even have to. Talking to him, sharing your deepest secrets and fears, telling him about the nightmares that kept you awake at night – it all came easily. Too easily.

“This week it’s...it’s that image of my stupid mother. Standing there with her black eyes and busted lip, telling me that it was me that was the problem. That it was me who...” you swallowed hard, the heaviness creeping back into your chest and tears fighting to wet your eyes. God you hated that you let this get the best of you.

Just as your mind started to bring you back to that dark place it was interrupted by the feeling of warmth spreading over your body. You looked down to see Bucky’s large hand resting right above your knee. When your eyes met again, he gave you a soft look that made your heart scream.

“I’m sorry,” you could tell he meant it as he gave your knee a soft squeeze.

A small smile flashed over your face and you had to resist the urge to reach out and cup his soft, stubbled cheek in your hand.

“Hey, we’re all a little fucked up, right?” you joked.

“Some more than others,” he replied, those beautiful wrinkles appearing around his nose as he scrunched it up with another laugh.

“Thanks, Buck... I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything other than listening to my sob story,” you reluctantly broke eye contact and looked down at the hem of your shirt as you fiddled with it in your fingers.

You were all too aware at the loss of contact as Bucky drew his hand back and leaned back into his chair.

“Doll,” he started as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again - you could swear you almost saw a grin on his lips, “there are very few things I’d rather do than sit with you on the balcony at 3am”.

At that moment it felt as though time stood still. Sure, you had flirtatious banter back and forth occasionally and made a habit out of spilling your deepest regrets to each other during the wee hours of the morning, but this felt different. This felt like a confession.

You’d be lying to yourself if you tried to convince yourself, or anyone else for that matter, that you didn’t have a thing for him. I mean - who wouldn’t? The guy was a gentleman; he was soft spoken and caring, he was a dork who loved to crack jokes at the most inappropriate times, the type of person who would give you the shirt off of his own back if it meant you were taken care of.

He....well, he was Bucky.

And god damn it if you didn’t love him.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed, but one minute you’re sitting on your chair, chewing your lip and droning on about the man in front of you in your head. The next minute you found yourself on his lap, knees seated on either side of his waist as your legs straddle him and your hands connect with the skin they so desperately craved to feel. Bucky’s eyes opened slowly and met yours as you let the pad of your thumb gently run along the curve of his bottom lip. The uneven breaths leaving your chest hitched as you felt his hands grip your hips softly. Refusing to break eye contact, Bucky gently pressed a kiss to the pad of your thumb. You dragged his lower lip down briefly.

“Well,” he began. His voice was barely above a whisper but it’s thick, lustful tone made you shiver from head to...well, you know, “are you gonna kiss me, Doll? Or do I have to do all the work myself?”

He barely finished his sentence before your lips captured his. It was messy, almost all teeth and tongue. It was needy, as if it was the last time either of you would ever kiss anyone again. It was fucking incredible.

Bucky’s metal arm snaked up your back and found its way into your hair, curling his fingers gently around the strands at the back of your head, as his other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to his form. He was intoxicating. This whole situation was something you had briefly imagined months ago, but ultimately pushed out of your mind. There was no way that he would ever be interested in someone like you. Yet, here he was, tongue fighting for entrance into your mouth.

You aren’t quite sure who pulled away first. Both of you were gasping for air, chests heaving up and down as you both stared into each other's lust-blown pupils.

“You kiss pretty well for someone who hasn’t had a girlfriend since 1940,” you teased, laughing as he rolls his eyes at the comment.

“You just don’t know when to shut that mouth of yours, do ya?” he practically growled, ever so slightly tightening his grip on your waist, and you almost lost it from just the sound of his voice alone.

“Why don’t you make me, Barnes?” you leaned in close, warm breath fanning over the shell of his ear.

A yelp escaped your throat as you were suddenly jerked up to a standing position, locking your ankles behind his back as he effortlessly held you up by your thighs.

“Oh Doll,” he chuckled darkly into your neck, almost making you pass out from the sensation, “I thought you’d never ask”.

#eeek #i hope you all like this #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan #James Buchanan Barnes #James Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst

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doopy-n-loopy · 4 years ago

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How would yandere mercs react to us trying to escape late at night?

Well not well that's for sure!

Yan!Mercenaries (TF2) × Reader hcs/ imagines

// Yandere themes, violence, fear play, yandere shit

Defense

Demo

You got out of Demo's bed, you had given him more alcohol than usual to keep him asleep. You looked over the heavily snoring figure beside you. The scot had his mouth wide open and a bottle of beer cluched in his palm. You leaned in and blew on his eye to make sure he was asleep, and there was no physical response from him. You then quickly slipped on your clothes and pulled out the small bag you've been hiding behind the nightstand, it was filled with money and other essentials like pepper spray, sunglasses, and a cloak.

You walked out of the room, taking one last look at the scot before tiptoing out of the house, avoiding scattered empty alcohol containers on the ground.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard a voice from behind you

"y/n? What are ye doing?"

He was drunk of course, but when wasn't he? It was like he was sober in his own way. Sober enough to recognize that guilty look on your face. His expression twisted into an angry snarl and he grabbed you by the wrist, dragging you down the stairs into the basement

"you'll stay here till you know how to listen"

He said trying to conceal his anger, but failing to do so

He could also just have a breakdown depending on the type of night it was and guilt you into staying

He will be a lot more strict on you

Heavy

You were looking to escape in the night but heavy lives in an eternal blizzard basically so... That's not a great idea

But lets say you've been preparing for awhile and got everything set up, a snow mobile, warm clothes, and a torch

But the moment you get to the shed, you find that your snow mobile is broken

Heavy then appears out of a corner of darkness with an upset expression

It's silent for a moment, until he speaks

"After all Heavy has done for you? Why?"

You felt guilt building up into your throat as you tried to search for an excuse. Unable to find one. He isn't a very restricting yandere, in fact, he's much tamer than most, he's given you basically all he has and to do this is like a slap in the face.

"Heavy will forgive you, if you just come back" he said while smiling

You were then gently pushed back out into the cold in the direction of his house, where you'd be staying once more

If he was in a bad mood, he'd be a little more rough

He also will place more restrictions on you but it's not like you'd notice considering it's not much

Engineer

You were about to leave in your car at night, when you tried turning it on, it wouldn't start. Engie then walks in front of your car and waves at you for you to come out, which after hesitating, you comply.

He walks over to you and hugs you, which confuses you. He tells you it's alright and that you don't have to go

"I'm sorry but, I want to leave" you stutter out

He panics internally and grips your shoulder, looking you in your eye

"do you know what could happen to you out there? Rapists! Murderers! The world ain't sugar n' honey, darlin"

"but-" you respond, suddenly cut off by him

"but you're safe here with me. I'll always protect you"

He hugs you once again, sucked into that warm embrace, you calm down and walk back with him

You were restricted from certain things from then on

Offense

Scout

You got into a fight with him earlier and in the middle of the night, you decided it was time to leave.

You packed a bag of clothes, some water, money, and other essentials

As you got your keys, you were met with a sleepy eyed scout who had bedhead

"Y/N....? The hell are ya doin?"

It takes a second for scout to process what's going on. You're grabbing your keys, you're fully dressed, and you had a suitcase with you

"Jeremy. I'm leaving*

You said sternly. You could see in his eyes that his heart shattered into a million pieces

"Wai- what no! No no no no! Please y/n you gotta stay please!"

He begged, grabbing onto your coat as you began to walk out. Tears formed on his face but you ignored it

"I can't put up with this anymore"

You said, voice cracking from the pain in your heart. Scout was sobbing now, he kneeled in front of you to stop you

"I'm so sorry I'm so sorry! I'll change I swear I'll become better! You want to go to eat out more? I got the money! I'll treat you nicely!"

You didn't believe a word he said, but with the way he was talking, it had to be true.

"Please I love you so much and it would kill me to lose you... Literally... You're my world to me, baby"

You bit your quivering lip as you looked down at him like he was a sad puppy. You sniffled and dropped your bags, huffing in defeat

".. I'm sorry. I'm just tired"

Scout was overjoyed to hear this. That night he clung to you

Scout didn't really become more strict, but he did become more loving to avoid that again.

Pyro

This one is scary, scarier than support classes even

You were almost out the door when they spotted you. They gave you an inquisitive look. You both shared a minute of uncomfortable silence before you bolted out the door. Pyro was unprepared for this, giving you some time to create distance between you two.

But Pyro was quick to get ready and they were out the door in no time with their flamethrower, ready to burn down acres of forests in order to catch you

You could hear pyro approaching, knowing that once you reach your car at the end of the base, you'll be safe and free.

While you were running, it seemed like their footsteps had been fading ever since they've gotten louder. Until you couldn't hear it anymore. You didn't pay any mind to this since your objective was just getting ti your car

When you arrived at the boarders of their territory when you stopped in your tracks

Pyro was leaning over their axe by the car, looking smug as ever. You looked towards your car and gasped.

Pyro had shredded the tires and broke open every window so you couldn't escape. You stood there as pyro approached you and swept you up in their arms, snuggling their mask into your neck the entire way home while you couldn't help but softly sob

Soldier

Soldier would lose his shit

He's already super strict, forces you to get up at 5 am every morning and run laps like you're in the military, makes you eat either MRE packets or home cooked food and you better hope it's an MRE pack because he cannot cook

So when he sees you at your car late at night, he screams at the top of his lungs enough to scare you into shock

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, MAGGOT? GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!"

I could see this going one of two ways, either complying or he has to chase you down (which he will)

If he has to chase you down, he won't be happy about it, and become even more strict than before (which I don't think is possible but it's soldier)

Support

Sniper

You... What?

How did you even get the idea that you could escape?

You live in his fucking van, you won't have a car other than his van

But lets say you saw the chance for escape, and tried to take it. You either got shut down the moment you got out of bed or you were lucky enough to get far away from the van

"get your bloody ass back to bed" is something he'd say if he shut you down the moment you stood up

But this man is a sniper, he can scope you out easily, and he won't hesitate to use a tranq on you

After that, you're back in the chains

Spy

Scary

Did you really think you could?

He knew you were gonna escape before you even escaped

He'd make very subtle remarks about it and remind you of what he could do

"Do you remember about the undercover mission in Spain back when I was working for the government that I told you about? When I was able to find the traitor using three clues. Even after all his records were erased"

Subtle shit like that to remind you who's in control

But lets say you didn't take the hint, and you decided to try and escape anyways

He'd catch you in the living room trying to escape, and send you back to bed

Or, you'd get lucky and be able to run away, meaning he'd be on a job

Trust me, he will find you within 48 hours, 24 if you aren't moving that much

He's very manipulative so he'd try to make you feel bad about it.

Much more strict afterwards

Medic

I have a feeling he'd already knowz but not to the extent that spy does

He notices your behavior, and how you're starting to become a bit more.. energetic?

Anyways, like spy, he'll warn you subtly

"You seem to always find yourself injured in any way. And like they say, a medic can track an injured person like a gps system, ja?"

If you decide to escape, he'll have some fun with you definitely. He'll late you run far enough to think that you're finally free, before he catches you and brings you back. He's sadistic.

He'll laugh at your face and degrade and humiliate you, making you regret ever trying

After that, he's much more strict, and demanding from you

Bonus cause I wanted to: Pauling

Pauling like spy, can track people very easily

I wouldn't even be surprised if she convinced medic to help put a tracker in you

Well, she'd be at work checking your location every hour. And the moment she finds out that you're not in the house but at a motel, she's pissed.

She has to quickly finish up work before taking her time to go catch you, and trust me, if Pauling takes time off work for something it's important

Once she finds you, she tells you to come out, trying to keep it civil. When you don't, she ends up busting through the door and taking you herself.

On the way home, she complains about how you worried her and made her miss some work like a parent going to pick up their sick kid from school

She eventually cools off after she gets you home, but she is definitely more strict

Gify was acting up so I couldn't download any more gifs 😭

Anyways feel free to request again!

#yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere tf2 #yandere tf2 × reader #doopyloopyyandere #doopyloopy's asks #doopyloopy's headcannons

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tricksters-captain · 4 years ago

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Helmut Zemo imagines - Hostage Part 1

AN: I came up with this idea for a series in the shower and I hope you guys are as intrigued by it as I am. Also I’m aware it’s posted later than I said but I’m a perfectionist and couldn’t post it until I was happy with it!! To make up for it, I have some Laszlo Kreizler smut coming up soon for you Alienist fans.

Summary: You were chosen as one of Karli’s elite. You became a super soldier to help your cause, make the world a better place but taking the serum came with a price. After being cornered one day, you’re taken by the famous Helmut Zemo to give him answers or face the consequences.

In This Chapter: Introductions. You are sent on a mission for Karli, only for it to turn bad.

Pairing(s): Zemo x Fem!Reader, Karli Morganthau x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 2,703

Warnings: Spoilers for TFATWS, violence, strong language

You stared back at the burning building as the truck pulled away.

Despite the rumbling of the thick tires on the tarmac beneath you, you could hear the screaming.

“Hey.” DeeDee placed a hand on your shoulder and tugged you round. “Don’t look.”

You could see in her eyes that she was just as shocked as you were but was trying to hide it.

The task had been to remove as many supplies as possible from the GRC depot to take back to the camps in Riga. There had been no mention of bombing the place.

Lennox’s eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror. You were all thinking the same thing.

Why would Karli go through with something that hadn’t even been discussed?

“Turn here. It’s faster.” DeeDee leant forward pointing towards a more narrow alley as fire engine sirens echoed up ahead.

Lennox did as suggested and the others followed close behind.

It wasn’t a long drive from Vilnius to Riga but you all stopped when daylight broke to take some time to eat something.

You sat down beside Diego, your eyes flickering to Karli every few minutes as she dished out supplies for you all.

She noticed.

“(Y/n).” Karli remained standing as she handed out the last can to Dovich.

You took the hint and rose to your feet.

You followed her to the side of the abandoned structure as the others tried to tune the radio.

“What’s the problem?” Karli asked you, a hard expression across her features.

“What’s the problem?” You couldn’t help but scoff at the question. “Karli, you blew up a building with people still tied up inside.”

“I did what I had to do. It’s the only language these people understand. You saw just how much food, water and medicine they were sitting on. If we had a fraction of that just a few months ago Mama Donya might still be alive.” You could see the tears Karli was trying to suppress as she spoke of Mama Donya.

“You still should’ve consulted us before you went ahead with it. We’re better than an eye for an eye and you know that.” You cautiously took her hand into yours to try and comfort her. “We’re trying to make a difference here.”

“And that is how we do it.” She dropped your hand as she defended her actions. You shook your head but didn’t retaliate. You knew there was no use in arguing with her in that moment.

“There’s something I need you to do after Mama Donya’s funeral today.” Karli was quick to change the topic. “A mission for you and DeeDee.”

“What is it?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest.

“I need you to go to these coordinates immediately after the funeral. One of our allies will be expecting you both. He has information and something I need. It’ll be a parcel, small enough to conceal so you can make your way back to us without any suspicion.” Karli texted over the coordinates and the information on the contact.

“How can you be sure it’s safe?” You asked as you studied his profile.

“I wouldn’t send you if it wasn’t.” Karli paused before she wrapped her hand around the back of your neck and brought your forehead to hers. “We have to stick together now more than ever.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled a shaky breath.

“One world.” You muttered.

“One people.”Karli pulled away just as Dovich called over to you both.

They had managed to get the radio to work.

You sat down and opened a can of fruit slices to try and quench your hunger.

“The depot that was bombed was funded and run by the GRC, the Global Repatriation Council. One of the workers killed was the father of two and had only been on the job for one week. After condemning this latest action by the radical group known as the Flag Smashers, the GRC formally began drafting legislation known as The Patch Act, which would seek to restore traditional border regulations and fast-track the return to normalcy. The act of violence has also brought attention and followers to the Flag Smasher cause. No one can deny the world-wide reach of this group is growing, as is the danger.”

You shared a look with Gigi and Dovich as you listened to the broadcast. Your stomach churned at the mention of the father. You swallowed hard as you placed your food down.

Karli parted from the group again, feeling the pressure of the eyes on her, but you chose not to follow.

You had known Karli for 3 years. You met in Riga and became close quickly. You both had lost everything and then you had each other. When she took off to Madripoor, you followed. She always knew how to get people to see things her way, she had a spark inside of her that drew in those who wanted to fight for something; she was powerful for 19. She only grew more powerful with the serums.

You had backed her and supported her from the start but something was twisting. Something was going sour. You had never killed innocents before but in Karli’s eyes; was anyone on the side of the GRC innocent?

“Finish up. We need to get to the border in time to meet our contact.” Karli strode past the group and didn’t stop until she climbed into one of the cars.

You cleaned up after yourselves, leaving no trace that you were there, before you got back on the road.

You were back in Riga soon enough, your contact at the border let you through without any issues and you made it to the checkpoint with all the supplies safely.

Fortunately, you still had time to spare before Donya’s funeral.

You remained hidden, on the low, whilst Karli went with Nico to pick up the leftover serums.

You had previously spoken about creating more super soldiers. You had been against it. There were more than enough of you for the moment and the process of turning into one was beyond any pain you’d ever felt. You didn’t think more people needed to go through that. However, the vote passed and more were to be created.

“You ready?” Karli asked you as she returned. You nodded.

You headed to the secret location of Mama Donya’s funeral and fell into the crowd as the body came into sight. Mama Donya had been important to Karli and therefore important to you. She had been a kind woman. Kind to you. But Karli had a bond with her that you didn’t. This was Karli’s time to heal, to grieve, to help those who also relied on Donya.

You watched Karli step up to say a few words.

“I don’t remember my mother or my father. Same goes for siblings, grandparents, cousins. What I do remember is being alone. Worse than being hungry or cold or scared. I was alone. Until Mama Donya. Like a lot of you here, Mama Donya saved me. She clothed me, fed me, loved me.” You followed Karli’s eye line when she gasped softly.

It was Sam Wilson. Avenger.

You felt your blood go cold. Usually where there was one avenger, there were sure to be more.

“She taught me that we have to do for each other because they won’t. And we know who they are. They imposed struggle and hardship on us, then labeled us as criminals for pushing back. But the struggle is what brings us all together. People who have nothin’ in common. For we are, after all, simply one world and one people. So live accordingly.”

As you stepped forward and placed your bouquet of flowers down beside Donya, Karli clasped hold on your wrist.

“Go now.” She whispered under her breath.

“What about you?” You asked.

“I’ll be fine. Get to the contact.” Karli tried to assure you but you weren’t certain on leaving her. Dovich guided you away to stop you from arguing with Karli about it. He told you that he was going to stay behind to help Karli and that you had a more important job to do right now.

You had to give in and leave.

As you made your exit, you grabbed DeeDee and the keys to the motorbike outside.

“We gotta make a detour. Make sure we aren’t being followed.” You announced as you climbed onto the motorbike.

“Karli said our guy would wait for us so it’s better to be safe than sorry. We can’t mess this up.” DeeDee agreed with you as she placed herself behind you.

You took off down the street and did your best to lose any tails.

You ended up ditching the bike and moving underground once you were sure you were alone.

You were either really lucky or they had only brought enough backup to deal with Karli.

“We should be close.” You checked your phone to read the GPS before placing on your mask.

DeeDee held the flashlight up as you worked your way through the empty tunnel.

“You’d think Karli could organise a rendezvous point somewhere a little less musty.” DeeDee grimaced as a trio of rats scattered past you both.

“This is the safest way. We may have gained a lot of supporters above ground but we have a lot of enemies too.” You tried to defend Karli’s choice but even you had to admit that the sewers were a low point for you all.

“You think she got away okay?” DeeDee asked, the concern obvious in her voice despite her blank expression.

“I think Karli’s smart and she wouldn’t stick around if she knew she couldn’t win.” You may have been anxious for her but you rarely had doubts with Karli. Even without the serum she always managed to slip through the cracks.

As you continued to make your way through the tunnels, you spotted a silhouette up ahead.

You narrowed your eyes as DeeDee shone her light on him.

Fortautely, it was your contact.

“Greetings.” The man smiled widely at you both. He wore a bright head torch that stopped you from looking him in the eye and a large forest green coat.

“We’re here to collect the parcel and information for Karli.” DeeDee informed him, shading her eyes from his light as she tried to lift her gaze.

“Yes. Yes. I know.” The short man pulled out a small object wrapped in brown paper from under his coat. “Karli said you would be coming.”

As the man spoke, you heard something splash in the water behind you.

“What was that?” You asked, looking back to see if you could spot anything.

“It was probably just one of the rats.” DeeDee tried to assure you but the hairs on the back of your neck began to stand up.

You had a bad feeling about it.

“I’m going to check it out.” You whispered to her. “Better safe than sorry.” You repeated what she had said earlier.

“Be careful.” DeeDee handed you her flashlight before letting you go.

You crept back round the corner from whence you had came. You remained close to the wall to avoid any oncoming intruders head on. Peering down into the water, you saw that it had been in fact just a rat that was now paddling through the sewage.

“It's okay.” You relaxed, shouting ahead so they could hear you. “It was just a ra–––” You were cut short by a gloved hand covering your mouth.

You sent your elbow backwards instinctively which threw your attacker into the wall.

You spun around to see a figure dressed in a lavish coat with a purple mask covering his face. You furrowed your eyebrows at his appearance. You didn’t recognise him as an Avenger.

He came towards you, sending a fist to the side of your head. You managed to block his attack, kicking him in the chest.

You thought he’d be no match for you with your enhanced powers but he managed to put up a good fight.

He wrestled with you against the wall as he gained the advantage. You resorted in head butting him to get him off you.

You sent your leg up into his side but he wrapped his arm around your calf and yanked you forward. You lost your balance as he grip moved, hooking under your knee. He squeezed your thigh against him as he pulled out a rather large syringe.

“DEE! RUN!” You managed to howl before the needle sunk into your thigh.

You tried to fight again as he dropped your leg but your vision became patchy and your balance began to sway.

Not to your knowledge, he had injected as much tranquilliser into you as one would a tiger. Your enhanced abilities wouldn’t help you with that, you were soon out cold.

The stars shone above you as you and Karli laid back on the bonnet of the car.

“I genuinely believe that you could be the one to change things, Karl.” You said as you munched down on the chocolate bar she had gifted you.

“What are you on about?” Karli furrowed her eyebrows through her smile as she turned her head to face you.

“I mean look what you did for my birthday, just using your powers of persuasion.” You smirked.

“Persuasion isn’t enough to change things.” Karli disagreed.

“You’re right but right now, people need someone to look up to. Half the world is gone and hope isn’t something that's easy to come by anymore.” You stated.

“And you think that person could be me?” Karli scoffed at the idea.

“I think you could do anything you wanted if you put your mind to it.” You broke off a piece of chocolate and handed it to her.

“I think you’re spending too much time around Mama Donya.” Karli took the chocolate and popped it in her mouth.

“We’ll see who’s right one day.” You mused with a small smile. Karli rolled her eyes before trying to steal another piece. “Hey! It’s my birthday present!”

When your eyes finally opened, you realised you were no longer in the sewers.

You were standing but your hands were up above your head, chained to the wall behind you and a large metal strip was around your neck also. You desperately tried to search your surroundings through your mask but the restraints stopped you from moving much.

The room was dark, no windows, a few dim lights dotted around caused the room to seem almost a brown colour and there was little furniture.

You would’ve been a fool if you didn’t noticed the gun on a small table off to the side as well as the medical equipment glistening on a tall metal cart.

Your head throbbed and your mouth held the metallic taste of blood. You tugged at your wrist restraints to test their strength and to your luck they were holding.

“You’re awake.” You heard a thick accented voice when you stopped rattling your chains. “Good.”

The possessor of the voice, your kidnapper, stepped into light and you clocked who it was immediately.

It was Baron Helmut Zemo.

Zemo could not see your face as he had left the mask on you but he could tell from your eyes that you knew who he was.

“I bet you are wondering why you are here. Tied up in this basement.” Zemo started. “Let’s start with introductions, shall we?”

You remained silent.

“My name is Helmut Zemo––”

“––I know who you are.” You retorted.

“Then you know what I am capable of.” Zemo glared at you for the interruption. His hands finding his pockets as his eyes settled on your own.

“I know you’re going to kill me.” You knew of what happened with the Avengers. You knew of Siberia and the destroyed soldiers. You knew of his hate.

“I’m not going to kill you.” Zemo wagged his finger at you. “Not yet at least. No. We have a few things I’d like to discuss first.”

“Like what?” You scowled at the man.

“Like the whereabouts of Karli Morgenthau.”

(PART 2 HERE)

Taglist

@cathrin2405 @serenityfirefly97 @shannon-posts @dxnxdjarxn @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @trelaney @sierrabaltzer @daydreamer-in-training @e-barba @ornella0910 @natty13 @bry-97 @cherieweasley @kermuddgen @madelyn-barnes @jaxcliffaconda @candicerace @mo320 @takacsgram @hiccup005

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bruhlsbees · 4 years ago

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garden of eden ; 1/5 || alex kerner x fem!reader

summary: on the day of east germany's 40th birthday, your entire life shifts before your eyes

pairing: alex kerner x fem!reader

warnings: drinking (alex and reader), protest violence, hospitals

word count: 6,714

a/n: here's the first chapter of garden of eden! i hope you enjoy and if you are interested in being added to the taglist please let me know! :)

taglist: @spookyanabarnes

October 7, 1989

Alex had stopped by your apartment after he woke up and got around for the day. He was annoyed just as much as you were about the parade of soldiers that galavanted around the city. It was East Germany’s 40th birthday and many of those who worked had the day off to celebrate. Alex, being one of them, perhaps didn’t celebrate it in the way East Germany intended, but indeed still did in his own way with you.

It didn’t take him long to walk over to your apartment, as you only lived a couple blocks away. Jogging up the stairs, Alex stopped to catch his breath on the last step before heading down the hall to your door, knocking on it harder than usual - just in case you were still sleeping. He wasn’t surprised to see you still not ready for the day. Your hair still pulled back in a messy ponytail, the makeup from yesterday smudged on your face and you were still in your pajamas. You were a mess, but you were his mess.

“What are you doing?” You asked, eyes heavy as you were still trying to wake up, moving off to the side for him to walk in, shutting the door behind him. You leaned against the door, arms crossed over your chest as you watched him turn, looking at you with his hands in his pocket.

“Remember? East Germany’s 40th?” He chuckled at the sight of you rolling your eyes, waving him off as you headed into the kitchen to grab something to drink from the fridge. You listened as he followed behind you, leaning against the doorway - watching you pull two beers from the fridge, opening the caps before handing one to him.

Alex was the one to take the first drink, letting his head fall back as the beer went down his throat, waking him up in the process. Pulling the bottle from his lips, tilting his head back down, Alex let out a sigh, wiping his mouth before setting the bottle on the counter.

“You still wanna hang out? Mom is gonna be gone tonight, figured we could watch a movie or something. Might have to watch Paula, but you don’t mind, right?”

Of course you didn’t mind watching Paula with him. His niece was a bundle of joy to be around and you loved holding her close to you, listening to her cute baby babble while she pulled at your hair in her tiny hand. You had known Alex for the better part of six years now and were stuck at each other’s side like glue. Alex’s sister, Ariane, always liked to tease him on that. - asking him where his shadow was, referring to you.

His mother, however, wasn’t overly fond of you like Alex always liked to say she was. You knew that Christiane tolerated you, and that was it. You tended to speak more freely on your dislike for East Germany - stating that you felt like a prisoner trapped in a cage. Alex’s mother often bit her tongue at your ideas, as she was a strong supporter of the Socialist Unity Party.

Alex and Ariane, while they had similar views to you, Christiane didn’t seem to jump down their throats as much as she did with you. This left you uncomfortable the majority of the time you were in the same room as her. Alex though, you knew he was close to his family. After his father left, the three of them stuck together, all still living under the same roof.

When you and Alex finished school you offered for him to move in with you. You even said that you’d apply for the two bedroom apartment on the floor below if he really wanted to move in. It wasn’t that you wanted him away from his family, but as his friend, his best friend, you only wanted what was best for him.

But here you were, around three years later and things still hadn’t changed.

“Where’s your mom going?” You asked casually, taking a swig from your own bottle, opening the cupboard to find something to eat. You decided on some bananas that were spotting brown - picking one from the bunch and peeling it, stuffing the fruit in your mouth.

You listened as he explained that she had been invited to something, what exactly though slipped his mind. You nodded, pulling some of your banana apart to give him some, finishing the rest and tossing the peel into the waste bin.

“Well, I’ll be sure to be on my best behavior for Mother. Wouldn’t want to upset her on the 40th.” Your sarcastic comment didn’t sit well with Alex, who caught your arm tightly as you walked past him, pulling you around to look down at you.

“Hey, I get you don’t agree with her. I don’t either, but you don’t have to be rude.” He was always a mother’s boy. Ever since his father left them, he was at her side caring for her like she was his god. You always kept your mother shut on it, knowing that it was obviously something Alex didn’t realize - and if he did he didn’t care enough to change.

You quickly pulled your arm out of his grip, glaring at him for grabbing you the way he did. You wouldn’t deny that what you said was probably rude, but he had to realize that it wasn’t like she was doing it to be a bitch - his mother was always at her throat, was he seriously expecting her to just sit back and take it?

“I’m not arguing with you on this, but you gotta think about how it makes me feel sometimes, Alex. Your mother makes comments and you just sit there and let her. How do you think it makes me feel? Knowing my best friend’s mother doesn’t like me-”

“Where are you getting that she doesn’t like you at? She does like you, she just shows it in a different way. Look, I’m sorry for not standing up for you, you always seem to handle it on your own so well that it just feels pointless to jump in,” He took a deep breath and watched as you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “How about this? Today if she starts something, I’ll tell her to back off, okay? I promise.”

You stared up at him for a moment, blinking slowly as you calmed yourself down. There were two things he said that really bothered you: you could handle yourself and pretended like he didn’t know why you thought his mother hated you. You could handle yourself, yes, but sometimes what you needed, wanted, was your best friend to have your back. Alex was also a horrible liar - of course he knew that his mother didn’t like you as much as she pretended. It didn’t take a genius to know that.

“Fine, fine. Whatever - can we just be done with this? I don’t want to be fighting over your mother right now. It’s too damn early.” You rubbed your eyes and felt him nudge you, looking up to see him smiling at you.

“I’ll wait for you out here. No rush.” Alex moved from the doorway and to the living room, settling in on your sofa before clicking on the television, mindlessly watching whatever station you left it on while he waited for you to get ready.

It didn’t take long for you to get around. You figured at most it took you twenty minutes, cleaning your face and redoing your hair, pulling on some jeans and a plain t-shirt, your sweatshirt thrown over. You grabbed your keys off your nightstand and headed back to the other room, grabbing some sneakers by the door and sitting down to slip them on.

By now the parade had made way to your side of the street, the music drowning out the television and your own thoughts. You watched as Alex clicked the television set off, standing up from the couch and stood above you, waiting until you finished tying your shoes before pulling you up. The two of you then headed out, you locking your apartment before joining him down the steps.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

After spending some time sitting outside, watching as East Germany decorated the city with flags in honor of the 40th birthday, you and Alex decided that you had had enough of the day and headed back to his apartment. You all but avoided his mother as you walked in behind him, taking off your shoes at the door and setting them beside his own. Following him into his bedroom, once the door was shut you rushed to his bed, turning and flopping down on your side, the one closest to the wall.

You shook your head in though, hands placed on your stomach as he came and laid down beside you, his head resting on the pillow that he tucked under him. Even with his eyes closed, he still knew that something was troubling you.

“What is it?” He mumbled out, cheek squished against the pillow, tired from the night previous and the disruptive morning he had. It was a long night at work and when he got home, he was hoping to sleep in and get some sleep that he had missed from the extra shifts he had picked up. To his dismay, what he got was a wake up call from East Germany.

Letting out a sigh, you rolled onto your right side, propping your head up on your hand while looking down at him. You smiled at how his eyebrows were furrowed together, his small mouth pursed, as if he was trying to sleep. He looked cute, almost innocent, if it weren’t for the disgusted look on his face.

You opened your mouth to speak, but closed your mouth, deciding against it. Alex already had to listen to his mother talk about politics every day, the last thing he wanted to do was talk about them with you - or rather hear how his mother was blinded by East Germany. Besides, you hadn’t realized just how tired he was until you got back to his class. Even if you did want to talk with him about it, there was a good chance he would have fallen asleep before you finished.

“Nothing, just forget it.” You dropped your arm down and let your head fall onto the pillow that Alex wasn’t using, closing your eyes as you laid beside him, arms crossed at your chest while your legs curled into a ball. It looked as though you were trying to keep your body warm, but really you just liked the position. Sometimes Alex would pull you in, wrapping himself around you as you napped. You never thought much of it, it being so normal for you both - but when Ariane started the teasing, that’s when things got awkward.

It was incredibly cliche - you knew that - crushing on your best guy friend that you’d known for a good part of your life. It’s not like you were planning on it, but one day it just happened. You stopped looking at him like he was just one of ‘the boys’ and saw him for something more. You enjoyed the little things about him that you hadn’t seen before - the way his favorite blue striped shirt seemed to fit him smaller as the years went on, how he doted on Paula when nobody was looking, or even the way he would sit on the couch, manspreading yet making it look so good.

Okay, so you were in love with him - but what could you do about it?

Your relationship with Alex balanced between the realm of dating and family, as weird as that sounded. You were there for him in the way that families were meant to be there for each other, but consoled him during his lowest points the way a partner would. Alex never made any advantages towards you in the way that would make you uncomfortable - he treated you the same way you treated him, ‘like one of the boys’. You had a strong hunch that he didn’t feel any sort of romantic feelings towards you, and while it broke your heart, you moved on.

It was selfish of you to think, but despite you doing your best to convince yourself that you moved on, ignore the feelings that you obviously had for Alex, you still had a hard grasp when it came to the idea of Alex seeing someone. Being with someone and growing a bond the way that you had with him. He was a young boy- man now, you were surprised that it had been this long even for him to still not have a girlfriend.

So when Ariane woke the two of you up from your unexpected nap, explaining that there was a girl there for Alex - your heart sank. You did your best to not showcase your evident disappointment, watching as he smoothed his hair down and got up, making his way to the door. He looked out of his room and leaned back in, looking down at his sister.

“Where’s my visitor?” He asked, confused at the lack of a girl standing outside his door.

You smiled then, when you realized what Ariane was doing. She was teasing him with the idea of there being a girl for him, a date, when really his date was with the precious baby Paula. You shook your head and fell back into the pillows, closing your eyes as you listened to them.

“Your visitor’s name is Paula. She’s your date, as agreed.” You heard Alex groan, taking the baby from Ariane as he tried to protest.

“Can’t your ex mind her?” He questioned, only to roll his eyes and kick the door shut behind him as Ariane explained that he was on call for the day.

When you felt the bed dip back down beside you, you opened your eyes and looked to your right to see Alex laying on his back, holding Paula close to him. She began to fuss and the sigh that escaped from Alex prompted you up, motioning for him to hand Paula to you.

“She doesn’t like the noise, I’d assume. I wouldn’t blame her, poor girl’s ears are far too sensitive.” You found yourself talking in a baby voice, bouncing Paula in your lap to calm her down while Alex got up himself, rubbing his eyes before moving the pillows to make a makeshift bed for Paula to sleep in, seeing as though he wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep that day.

“Here, lay her down. Maybe she can get some sleep.” You did as Alex asked and carefully laid Paula down, watching as she fidgeted for a moment, whining in discomfort before hitting a spot that seemed to satisfy her enough. You smiled and placed your hand against her tummy, cooing her to calm down before watching as she yawned, slowly falling asleep.

“You’re pretty good at that you know?” Smiling, you looked over at Alex and shrugged, “I gotta be. You can hardly hold her without her crying.” Alex rolled his eyes at your comment, scoffing as you stood up, nudging him before he got up in suit, leading the way out of his room and into the living room.

You weren’t surprised to see his mother in there, talking with a friend about the sizes of women’s clothing. You held back rolling your eyes, moving to sit on their sofa while Alex sat behind you at the table. You picked at the loose thread on your jeans, ignoring as Christiane and her friend continued to draft the letter they would send in with their wishes.

It took everything inside of you to not make a remark towards their letter, claiming that the idea would never get past the mailbox. There was no denying that Alex’s mother was intelligent - she was good at what she did, but you knew that if she just listened to what you had to say, what Alex and Ariane had to say, she could do more things that would help Germany.

Your thoughts were pulled out when you noticed Alex walk in front of you, turning the television set on before going back to his seat. Your attention, now fixed on the broadcast of the celebration of East Germany’s 40th birthday.

“Look at them, celebrating themselves, the old farts.” You smirked at Alex’s comment, looking down to shake your head as you tried to bite back your laugh. The mood turned sour quickly though, not that you were surprised, when Christiane told Alex that he didn’t have to watch.

Setting his coffee cup down, Alex pointed towards the television, looking at his mother, “Can’t you see what’s going on?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

Pausing the current piece she was ironing, Christiane set her hands on the ironing board, looking at Alex, “What do you want to do?” She asked him suddenly, her tone sharp, “Emigrate? Nothing will ever change if everyone emigrates.”

You glanced over at Christiane, watching as she quickly returned back to drafting the letter. It was something you learned over time that she did. Whenever someone would make a rebuttal against something that went against her own personal views, she would move on from the situation before you could get the next word in, always letting her have the final word.

When you caught glances with Christiane, you found yourself not pulling from the gaze that the two of you locked on one another. It was like a silent conversation going on - both of you daring the other to say what they were thinking. Before you got the chance to speak, or her for that matter, you heard Paula begin to fuss from the other room.

“I got her.” You explained, motioning for Alex to stay where he was, heading back into his room. You heard Ariane thank you from the bathroom as she got ready while you made your way towards the bed, picking Paula up with a smile.

“Hi there sweet girl, is it too loud for you?” You hummed gently and held her close, resting her head under your chin as you rocked her in your arms. You listened as her crying faltered into a low whining, her tiny hands gripping at your shirt. Smiling weakly, you moved your head back to kiss the top of her head.

You were happy to hear the parade soldiers finally moving on from the side of town you and Alex lived on, moving to go towards another part of the city. The music fading until you were left standing in Alex’s bedroom in silence. When you figured it was safe to lay Paula back down, you carefully placed her back on his bed, making sure she was secured in the middle of the pillows before standing back up.

When you turned around, you were met by Alex who had just walked in his room, shutting the door behind him. You smiled and motioned towards Paula who was on his bed, finally asleep.

“She’s asleep this time, don’t think we have to worry about her waking up anytime soon,” You put your hands on your waist as he approached you, smiling down at you while you smiled back at him, “I should be compensated for my services - without me she’d never settle down.”

You both laughed, maybe a little too loud with the sleeping baby in the room, but Alex could only shake his head and move around you to look out his window, watching as the parade soldiers became smaller and smaller until disappearing from sight. Turning around, you moved your arms up and over your chest, crossing your arms as you watched him from your spot in the middle of his room.

“I hear there is going to be a protest tonight. You wanna go and check it out?” He asked, moving to the chair that was at his desk finally, looking up at you.

The older Alex got, the more he found himself wanting to be involved with protests and politics. Growing up with a mother who was heavily involved with Socialist Unity Party meant he was already surrounded by politics, but when he got older and formed his own views, it meant for him to be more vocal on it. You weren’t surprised when he asked if you wanted to see what it was all about, he often heard about protests going on and dragged you with them. You weren’t the protest type, however, so you were hesitant.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure if it’ll be a good ide-”

“It’s not going to get out of hand, if that’s what you’re worried about. We’ll walk with them, hold up our signs, chant, and come back home,” He leaned forward and extended his hands out to you, in which you took without question, “If it gets out of hand we will leave. I just want to see what it’s all about.”

You trusted Alex and his judgement, for the most part, so it didn’t take long for you to agree, smiling when he squeezed your hands before pulling away, leaning back in the chair. You shook your head and sat at the end of the bed, leaning against his wall.

“If it gets out of hand though, we’re gone. I don’t need to be the one explaining to your mother why you ended up in prison.”

You were caught off guard by Alex who leaned across the arm of his chair to kiss your cheek, blushing as you felt his warm breath against your ear.

“You worry too much, you know that?”

When you felt him return back to his seat, you looked down at your lap, a smirk on your face as you tried to not show your obvious enjoyment of the intimacy - knowing that for Alex it was nothing more than just a friendly kiss, but to you, it was more.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Everything happened so quickly. You didn’t have time to process what had even happened until it was too late. Alex was taken, Christiane had fallen - you were all alone in the middle of a peaceful protest gone wrong.

The protest was going smoothly for the most part. You kept close to Alex as the two of you walked among the other protestors, voicing that it was the people of East Germany’s right to be able to go on walks freely without the Wall getting in their way. You weren’t surprised with how underwhelming it was - it seemed that many protests were mostly filled with older couples sluggishly moving down the streets, or younger people like you and Alex who just followed what everyone else was doing.

Walking beside you, Alex was repeating the current chant ‘Freedom of the Press!’ while crunching down on the apple that he was given to by someone in the crowd. His brain wasn’t entirely focused on chewing fully - chanting with the others.

“Alex, you’re going to choke on that.” You warned, watching as he rolled his eyes, continuing on, “Am not.”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness, continuing on as you ignored the fear in the back of your head of him choking on his apple. No matter how often he liked to remind you that he was an adult and could handle himself - you always reminded him back that you were the older one and that men weren’t as smart as women.

So when he finally did choke on the apple, his words cutting short, you couldn’t say you were surprised. Coming to a stop beside him, you looked down and shook your head, bending him forward while he tried to cough up the apple.

“Come on, Alex! Spit it out!” You tried to hit his back hard enough for him to spit the bit of apple out, but even your heavy hand couldn’t get it out. You grew worried, thinking the worst as you looked around, hoping to find someone that could help. But nobody seemed to notice Alex as soldiers now stood ahead of the protest, linking arms to block them from going by.

It was a girl your age that finally approached, quickly hitting him on the back, bringing his posture up so he could cough up the apple - and thank heavens did it work.

Gasping when you finally saw the fruit shoot out from his mouth, you grabbed his arm and looked at him, “Alex! Are you okay?”

He seemed to be spaced out though, gasping for air as he looked at you, nodding once before at the girl who saved his life.

“Are you okay?” She asked, pausing in the middle of the protest to be sure. You watched as he smiled shyly at her, nodding and thanking her before she took off ahead to catch back up to where she originally had been at.

Before you could scold Alex, you watched him take off suddenly ahead of you, chasing after the girl that saved his life. With your mouth open, you raised your hands in frustration before fighting through the crowd to catch up with him.

“Alex! Wait!”

You desperately fought the people in front of you, forcing your body to squeeze through the crowd to find Alex. By now the police had shown and the sirens were echoing the streets, ringing in your ears as both the soldiers and cops yelled at the protestors to stop and go back. You knew that Alex wouldn’t stop - of course he wouldn’t, he would go head first into the fire to prove something. Damn him and his fucking ego.

While trying to force yourself past the crowd of people, you fumbled forward onto the hard gravel, hissing as your palms scraped against the road. You were lucky not to be trampled over and thankful when you felt someone grab you by your arms, pulling you up.

“Careful! You could’ve been run over!”

You turned around, gasping as you stumbled back, regaining your posture. You frowned at the man who was looking at you, a worried expression washed over his face. He couldn’t have been much older than you, in his late twenties at most.

“Are you okay? Your hands, they are-”

“I’m fine!” You didn’t mean to snap at him, but you were desperate to catch up to Alex before you lost him, or something worse happened, “Thanks, but I have to go. I have to find my friend.”

You ignored the disappointed look on the man’s face when you turned around, going back to pushing through the crowd, calling out for Alex before you finally broke through to the front, the trucks now barricading the protestors in, the cops trying to catch whoever attempted to run off while soldiers pulled people out.

It was a goddamn shit show. You flinched when you heard the first initial cry - your attention moved to an older woman who was pulled by a soldier, thrown to the ground before getting viciously kicked in her side. You needed to find Alex, and fast.

You did your best to ignore the tears that were welling up in your eyes, sniffling as you frantically began to look through the crowd, jumping up to look over the wave of people who were now scattering across the street. Alex was still nowhere in sight and the chaos that erupted around you suddenly only grew worse. You didn’t even realize that you yourself had been grabbed by one of the soldiers until you were being pulled off to the side.

“Let go of me! I didn’t do anything!” You found yourself shouting, hands flat against the soldier’s chest as you tried to push yourself away. His grip only tightened as he roughly pulled you with him, your heels desperately trying to dig into the gravel.

“Quit fighting! You’re coming with me! Not a chance I’m letting you go-”

He stumbled back when your spit slapped him in the face. When his grip loosened from your wrist you took the chance to break free, stumbling back as you watched him grow red, going for his baton that was at his side. Feeling your heart sink, you continued to stumble backwards until you found yourself toppling over someone, landing on your back as the soldier approached you both, the baton now in his hand and high in the air.

You were waiting to be beaten, knowing that it would eventually come, but to your surprise it didn’t. Your hands were above your head, cowering with the other person that was with you as the two of you prepared for the worst.

When you heard the sirens, the shouting of more soldiers approaching, you looked up and saw the crowd begin to flee, running back to where the protest walk started. Some soldiers chased after them, grabbing some that were too slow to pull them back and into the trucks that would take them to prison. Other soldiers just stayed back, assisting where they could.

“Come on, you’re coming with us!”

The soldier that originally grabbed you forcefully yanked you up by your collar, pushing you towards the truck with your hands now behind your head. Your tears were now freely falling down your cheeks, your heartbeat thumping in your ears as reality soon sinked in.

Alex was still nowhere in sight. You were being taken to prison for the protest.

Before you were escorted onto the back of the truck, you heard your name be called out. Turning, you noticed Alex who was fighting with the guards that were on him, trying his best to break free and rush to you. You did the same, flailing your body around and kicking at the soldier who continued to pull you at the truck.

You knew something was wrong when the world around you seemed to freeze, the painful ringing in your ears as your brain felt heavy. Alex’s attention pulled from your own, off to the side where his mouth fell open, the tears welling in his own eyes. Your own gaze followed his line of sight, looking at where he was looking to see his mother on the ground unconscious.

Everything felt slow passing by, yet it all happened so quickly. Alex tried to break free and run to his mother, calling out to her as he was grabbed by the guards again, kicked and punched at to slow him down before dragging him into the back of the truck, before the truck drove off.

You were pulled back into the present, everything around you suddenly becoming clear again and moving around you at a normal pace. Your body was slacked in shock as you watched the truck Alex was placed in drive off, before looking at his mother on the ground.

“Please,” You began, turning towards the soldier who had a grip on you, “My friend’s mother, she’s over there. I think something is wrong. Please, I need to help her, she could be in danger.”

You wanted to believe that there was still good in this world, that the soldiers of East Germany cared even a miniscule amount about the people. And perhaps they did, or it was your own luck that gave you the chance to go after her. You didn’t stick around to wait, feeling the soldier let go of your wrist before nodding for you to go.

You were by Christiane’s side in seconds, on your knees as you cradled her head in your hands, shaking her slightly, “Christiane! Christiane! Please, wake up!” Your head fell to her chest and you listened for a heartbeat and when you didn’t hear one you screamed out for help, pleading with anyone who listened for help.

It was an older guard who finally approached you, kneeling on the other side while he looked over Christiane. He checked her pulse and moved far too slow for your liking.

“She’s not breathing, damnit! She needs medical attention!” You found yourself screaming. The guard fell back on his knees, looking at you intensely before down at Christiane. He stood up and you figured he gave up on you before his whistle caught your attention. The lights from the ambulance illuminated off of your face, your hand going up to block the light, eyes squinting to see what was happening.

Christiane was pulled up onto a stretcher by the two medical responders in the truck, placed in the back before one of them stopped and looked down at you.

“Are you going with her?” He asked you, waiting for your response before he went back to the truck to leave. For a moment you didn’t process what he had asked you, still in shock with everything that happened. But when you finally came to again, you looked at him and nodded, standing up and climbing into the back of the truck.

It didn’t take long for Ariane to arrive at the hospital. You knew that Alex wouldn’t have been able to be reached and you hoped that Ariane would answer. She did, thankfully, and said she would be there after she dropped Paula off at her father’s. You sat with Ariane outside of her mother’s room, holding her in your arms as she sobbed into your chest, your own tears silently falling. You had been informed that Alex would be let go from prison, given his mother’s current state of health. The heart attack she suffered led her into a coma and there was no telling when, or if, she’d ever wake up.

Despite the doctor still standing in front of you, Ariane and yourself weeped together, comforting one another until Alex arrived. When the footsteps approached down the hall, the three of you turned, seeing Alex rushing down the hall. Ariane was the first up, meeting her brother into a hug while you stayed seated, chewing on your nails as you waited for Ariane to deliver the news to him. You tried to ignore the bruising on Alex’s face, but you couldn’t help but tear up even more at the beaten state of him.

“She had a heart attack.” Ariane choked out, finally able to answer Alex’s question on what was wrong with their mother. You closed your eyes and felt your head sink, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. Even with their differing political views, Alex and Ariane were still close with their mother. The idea of losing her was not something they dwelled on. Even you, someone who was not fond of the woman, was broken at the news.

“CPR was performed rather late,” The doctor began, approaching Alex and Ariane, “She’s in a coma.”

Alex seemed to be in a lost state of mind, desperately trying to process everything that the doctor was telling him. He tried to ignore Ariane’s weeping as he stared ahead at the doctor, “When can I talk to her?” Alex asked.

Your head snapped up at the question, looking at Alex sadly as you listened to his question. He was so innocent in the mind, not understanding what was wrong with his question and why you all looked at him the way you did. His cheeks went red and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Alex, Mama is in a coma!” Ariane explained, perhaps a bit too forceful for your liking, but you knew that in the moment it was something that maybe Alex needed. The doctor didn’t offer much reassurance either, as he explained that it was uncertain if Christiane would ever wake up.

Looking at the doctor, before his eyes glanced down at you, Alex pushed Ariane away before moving towards the room his mother was in, opening the door and shutting it behind him, wanting a moment to himself with her. The doctor, who didn’t have anything else to add, offered his condolences before leaving you and Ariane outside the room.

“Ariane...I-”

“What happened? Why did Mama have a heart attack?” Ariane demanded, glaring down at you. It felt like she was pointing the blame towards you, since you were the one who brought her in. You did your best to ignore the guilt that settled on you, shaking your head.

“Alex he- he wanted to go to the protest that was being held. It was going okay at first, but then the soldiers came. The cops came. We were going to be taken but when Alex was grabbed I- I don’t know, your mother must have seen and it was too much for her.”

You let your face fall into your hands, hunched over in your seat as your own sobs finally let out. Your body began to shake as you continued to cry, reality settling in with what happened and the fear of what was to come.

Ariane felt guilty herself, snapping at you the way she did. She knew that you would follow Alex wherever he went, even if it weren’t the best of places. She moved and sat down beside you, sniffling as she pulled you into her arms, letting your head rest in her lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.” She whispered, stroking your hair as your cries began to dull. “Thank you for bringing Mama here. If you hadn’t, I fear she may not be with us at all.”

You heard Ariane whimper, the thought of their mother dying that night frightening her. She continued to console you, giving you the comfort you gave her, until you finally calmed down. Ariane moved your head carefully up, looking at you while brushing your tears off your face.

“Alex, he...I’m worried to know how he is going to be. You two are close, you love each other - please, please just watch him for me. I don’t want him to spiral from this. I know he will blame himself for what happened, but it’s not his fault.”

You nodded at what Ariane told you, leaning your forehead against hers as she embraced you, pulling away moments later to stand up and gather her things.

“I’m going to go get Paula, head back home. I-I will come back in the morning. I don’t expect you to stay but...if you could stay with Alex until I come back, I would appreciate it. I just need to get some things around the house. I-”

You cut Ariane off with your hand on her, looking up at her as she stopped in her tracks. “Ariane, please, it’s okay. Go and do what you need to do, I’ll be here.”

The corners of her mouth twitched, nodding before turning and heading down the hall to leave, leaving you alone until Alex came back out. You wondered if he heard Ariane leave, because only moments later he was exiting the room, looking at you blankly.

Standing up, you frowned and opened your mouth to speak, but before you could get a word out, Alex was hugging you, sobbing into the crook of your neck. You held him, of course you did, your hold around him tight as you smoothed his hair down and gripped his jacket in your other arm. You ignored the damp feeling against your skin from his tears, doing your best to hum him into a state of semi-peace.

You managed to coax him to the chair that you and Ariane had been seated on together, letting him rest his head on your lap, his hands grabbing at your knee. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, your other hand resting at his side. He let out the occasional whimper, sniffling his tears away until sleep finally consumed him.

You, on the other hand, didn’t sleep that night. Your own thoughts buzzing with what happened and wanting to stay awake for Alex in case something happened with his mother. You were surprised that Alex fell asleep so easily, but you assumed that because of what he went through that night, he was more exhausted than you were. It didn’t matter though, you stayed with him, holding him close until the sun rose the next day.

#garden of eden #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruehl #good bye lenin #goodbye lenin #alex kerner #alex kerner imagine #alex kerner smut #alex kerner x reader #alex kerner x you

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recurring-polynya · 3 years ago

Note

Renji prompt: The Vice-Captain exam combat exhibition. Who was there to witness it? Who was he fighting? Did anyone have a snide remark? Did Aizen show up to tell him he was proud of Renji overcoming his early troubles? Did Kenpachi ask to do the exhibition and pout when he was told no?

I hope you don’t mind if I take this one as more of a meta than trying to write a fanfic around it. Writing fight scenes is not my favorite, and one extended Vice Captains’ Exam description was enough for me. 😂

I had already decided ages ago that Ukitake and Komamura were the proctors at Renji’s exam (there’s even a mention of this waaaaaaay back in Not Broken, Just Bent).

I love the idea of Aizen lurking around, being Peak Snide, but when he corners Renji during the Soul Society Arc, he says they haven’t seen each other in a long time, so I don’t think he was there. A thing that’s important here is that Hisagi, Hinamori, Kira, Iba, and then finally Renji must have all taken the exam in a fairly tight period (by which I mean a few years, but also everyone’s semi-immortal). I think Aizen tried to have his thumb in most of these, and at this point, Sasakibe’s gotta be like, “you’re always so helpful, Captain Aizen, but I think some of the other captains should be contributing, too!” In any case, I am positive he wrote a long, unsolicited letter of his Renji Opinions that was probably extremely carefully worded to look supportive, but put his “doubts” on record for when he eventually needed to frame Renji for racketeering or something, like you do.

In any case, Aizen didn’t come, but I think Gin did. You’re allowed to invite your friends, and since Renji loves a cheering section, he asked the whole gang. When Kira was like “hey, Captain, I’m gonna go see Abarai’s exam”, Gin was like “Oh, that sounds fun, I’m coming” and he hovered behind Kira the whole time and was Creepy. Fortunately, Iba and the Squad 11 gang are 100% Immune to Bad Vibes and also Very Loud and everyone except Kira basically forgot he was there.

I headcanon that Kenpachi does not give a shit about any sort of Gotei procedures or exams or certifications. I don’t even know how they even get him to go to Captains’ Meetings. I often wonder what Kenpachi even thinks about Renji and Iba, who are good officers and follow his rules, but have career aspirations which frankly, he does not vibe with. Ultimately, I think Zaraki is a live-and-let-live sort of guy. He enjoys having them while he has them, and while he thinks transferring to another squad for a promotion is a dumb idea, he respects that they have their own goals, and he signs whatever forms they ask him to sign without trying to talk them out of it. Anyway, Zaraki can fight Renji any time he wants, under proper Squad 11 rules (one-on-one, no kidou bullshit, fight until someone can’t get up). Zaraki probably has a weekly slot on his schedule for fighting Renji. Zaraki did not attend.

So, who handled Renji’s exhibition fights then? As per my fanfic, Call Me Back When the War is Over, there are 5 demonstration portions of the Vice Captains’ Exam (6 if you choose to do kaido, which Renji did not). The kidou and shunpo demos are solo. The other three are zanjutsu (swordsmanship), hakuda (hand-to-hand) and an anything-goes overall combat readiness demo, each of which is overseen by a volunteer Vice Captain.

As I said earlier, a difficulty that presented itself during Renji’s exam is that a lot of the Vice Captains were brand new, and also his close friends, which closed off a lot of options, but Nanao got it figured out.

For zanjutsu, his opponent was Lieutenant Shirogane, his predecessor at Squad 6. Shirogane had been planning out his retirement for a while, and had been attending and helping with the last few exams, scoping out his own potential replacement. Squad 6 likes well-rounded soldiers, but they do put a heavy emphasis on zanjutsu, particularly formal swordsmanship. Renji was known to be a strong fighter and a good swordsman, and Shirogane (and Byakuya) were very curious to see if he had any actual knowledge of the subject, or if he was just an undisciplined thug like most of Zaraki’s men. Suffice it to say, Shirogane was very impressed, and passed on a glowing recommendation to his boss.

For hakuda, Renji had to go up against Nemu. Nemu doesn’t often help out with exams, but like I said, there had been a lot of exams recently, and Nanao sent a bunch of increasingly nasty memos to Kurotsuchi until he gave in and let her help. This was actually a pretty decent draw for Renji-- he is strong and fast, and decent at hakuda, but it’s not his strongest subject, and he spent a bunch of time boning up on the standard moves for the test. Nemu is also very strong and fast, and very by-the-book. In other words, the test was very predictable and true to form with no surprises, and Renji was able to make a good showing, even if she did pin him in the spar.

I hope you’re ready for this, but Renji had to do his overall combat demo against… Matsumoto. Matsumoto likes to act like a lazy slob, but she is actually very strong and smart and well-rounded and tricky. She is significantly older and more experienced than Renji and also, I headcanon that she has a lot of fighting skills that she holds in reserve (in particular, some absolutely brutal hakuda that Isshin taught her). Renji had been trying to get her to fight him seriously for years and she never would, so he got really hype when he found out who he was going up against. Rangiku was prepared for Renji to be tough, but as it happens, Haineko is a lot like Senbonzakura in terms of techniques one might use against them, and Renji turned out to be smarter than she expected, too. That being said, it was an incredible fight, and they ran out the time without a clear winner (although Renji’s hair was on fire, which probably would have become a problem eventually). Renji had a great time and is dying to fight her again; Matsumoto spent the following week refusing to do anything because she was “too tired.”

The upshot is that Renji’s exam was super fun to watch (except for the kidou section, which was Sad, but everyone cheered for him anyway, and at least it was over quickly). The other captains who showed up to watch were Kyouraku (because Nanao and Juushirou were there and also because he loves shirking) and Hitsugaya (because he likes to watch Rangiku fight and he vaguely knows Renji through Hinamori). Renji made a really good impression both with his skills and his enthusiasm, and I think that is one of the reasons he is later noted to be “well-liked by all the captains.”

Thanks for the ask, this one was a lot of fun to think about!

#renji's birthday 2k21

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please-buckme · 4 years ago

Text

The View From The Fire Escape. (3/3)

Bucky Barnes x gn!reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: angst, fluff

A/n: WOW, keeping this gn!reader was so hard, especially when he talks to his therapist! :/ I hope you guys enjoyed it and I’d love your feed back on it! I also wrote this with a headache, so if it sucks im so sorry. Love you guys <3 thank you for the support.

Part 1 // Part 2

The days dragged on, your body aching from head to toe. Mostly from your job, you’d been working doubles to avoid any sort of interaction with Bucky. Only your lower back was sore from the ‘incident’, physically. Mentally you were hurt and confused.

Hurt because you didn’t understand. Why would he do such a thing? If there was something wrong, why didn’t he tell you before it got too far? And if he didn’t want you in that way, why lead you on like a fool? Some many questions ran through your mind that you wanted answers to. The problem was, you were sort of scared of Bucky now.

And you were confused because he never really made an effort to apologize. He said it on his way out of your apartment, but since then.. nothing. No call or a text, even though a text would’ve set you off; how cowardly. You find yourself daydreaming of him coming to your door, getting on his knees and begging for forgiveness. He hadn’t though. He smiles at you through his window kind of like he’s asking you to come to the fire escape, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

You liked Bucky, you really did. After it happened, though, you realized you knew nothing about him. Sure, you know little things like his favorite beer and how self conscious he is sometimes, or how he changes the subject when you two start reminiscing on old times. The only thing you knew about his past is, he was a momma's boy, outgoing and he loved his best friend; he talked about him all the time.

That was it though. You felt like an open book to him and got nothing in return. You still didn’t know what happened to his arm; he wasn’t just born with a freaking metal arm. And you still had no idea why he lashed out at you.

The more you thought about it, though, the less you wanted to speak or even seen him again. You just wanted to become strangers to each other again, as if you aren’t already.

“Tell me what happened.” Bucky’s therapist was calm, even with all the tension coming from Bucky.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Then why are you here?” She raised an eyebrow in question.

“Because I have to be.” He answered bluntly.

“Is it the nightmares?” She asked with a sigh, getting tired of the game they play every time he has a session; it’s like pulling teeth trying to get him to talk.

“Not really. I mean, they’re part of it but no.”

His therapist leans in slowly, worry spreading across her face, “Tell me what’s going on, Bucky.”

Bucky groans, “I think- I think I’m falling for someone.” He readjusts, now feeling exposed and a little vulnerable.

“That’s good, isn't it?”

“It was.. until I fucked it all up.” He runs both hands through his hair. “That’s all I’m good at, fucking up every good thing that comes my way.”

“Breathe and tell me what happened.” She clicks her pen and settles into her chair as she waits for Bucky to speak.

“The notebook? Come on, I’m cooperating.”

“I’m just going to write down their name and anything that may come off alarming. It’s your first relationship since the 1940’s and since being the Winter Soldier. I’m hoping what you’re going to tell me isn’t as bad as I think it is.” She sighs again, flipping open the notebook now. “Did you hurt them?”

“No.. well-“

“Well?” She asks. Bucky hears her breath hitch and he hates it. She knows he’s a killer. She knows he can kill someone with his bare hands and not even flinch, because he has. He isn’t that guy anymore, though and he wants to prove it. Has to prove it. If not to her or y/n then to himself.

“We were.. ya know, well not exactly. I mean we were about to and I might have, accidentally, lashed out. It’s all a blur now. All I know is, one minute they were there on top of me and then on the floor. I guess I have a trigger when someone holds me down.”

“So you had a panic attack?” She’s now writing.

“Yeah..”

“And then what happened?”

“Could you stop writing, please. I can hear the scribbling as if you’re etching something into my skull. It’s very annoying.”

“Stay on topic. What’d you do after saying them on the floor?”

“I left, okay? I apologized and I left.” He stands from his seated position and paces the floors of her office.

“When did all this happen?”

“Two weeks ago today.” He runs his hands over his face in frustration and exhaustion. Since that day the nightmares were on overdrive. As if his mind stores special, horrible memories just to torcher him.

He sees y/n time to time through their windows but that’s it. No more friendly chats to help him through his darkest nights. No more y/n and that heavenly smile even on a long day's night.

Everything is just as it was before. Just Bucky and his thoughts, a dangerous combination. His eyes well up with tears, the feeling of loneliness taking over his entire body.

“Earth to Bucky?” The therapist shouts, snapping her fingers.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’d seen this person since that day.” She reiterated.

“Oh.. uh, no. I mean, yes. I see them but we haven’t spoken.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

“I’m scared. I don’t want them to look at me like I’m a monster. I’m not who I used to be I- I’m good now. I just want them to see that.” A tear threatens to fall before he wipes it away on the back of his gloved hand. “I want to be a good person.”

The woman sighs and stands from her chair. She walks over to Bucky, tapping him on the shoulder until he turns around.

“If you really like this person, talk to them. It’s the only way to get through this. If they really like you, they’ll be patient and understanding. You’ll never know how they truly feel until you talk to them face-to-face. Our times up. Go.”

It was Thursday and it just so happens to be your first day off in two weeks. You’d plan to do nothing but sleep and watch awful rom coms in between the sleeping portion of the day. It was around 5pm. The sun was setting and you were on rom com number three; ‘Definitely, maybe’. You were close to tears when the doorbell rang. “Who is it?” You holler from the couch.

“It’s.. uh, it’s me, Bucky.” He could hear your heart pounding in your chest. This was a mistake. You were already frightened and you hadn’t even opened the door yet.

“Oh, I don’t think-“

“You don’t have to let me in,” he assured you. “Just.. listen or don’t. It’s totally up to you.” He waited for a response, but when you said nothing he took that as a ‘I’m listening’ and continued, “I fucked up, y/n. I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I can’t take back what I did, but I swear to god if I could I would. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me for the rest of your life, but you gotta know something. I really like you. I’m over the moon for you. I can’t stop thinking about you and your beautiful smile or how gentle and patient you are with people and not just me.

“You’ve never asked me about my past or where I come from. You’ve always liked me for me, who I am right now. I’ll never find anyone who sees me for me the way you do and I’ll do anything. Anything. To get your trust back. Just give me another chance, please.”

You stared at the door, speechless. The desperation in his voice is tearing you apart. He hadn’t explained what actually happened, but you know in time he will. There were many things you needed to talk about, but for right now all you wanted was him.

He stood at your door leaning his forehead against it in defeat. He knows you're still there but couldn’t be sure if you were actually listening or if you were still nervous with his presents in your doorway. He bit his lip as he waited for any sort of movement or noise, other than your heart beat.

He sighs in defeat, “okay, I’ll go.”

“Bucky wait..” you say, seeing him halfway down the hall. “I hear what you’re saying and you’re right, I do like you for who you are. But I need to know about your past and why in the world you have a metal arm.” You huff out a laugh, “You can’t hide who you were just because you’re ashamed. I want to be your rock, I want to be the person you come to after every nightmare. I want all of you, including your past.”

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” Bucky’s inches away from you now, taking your right hand into his metal one. “I want you to be my future and if that means showing you my past, so be it.”

You smile up at him and let out a sigh of relief, “god, I missed you.”

Bucky kisses you gently, running his flesh hand through your hair. “I missed you too.” He said, never leaving your lips. “I was also the Winter Soldier.”

“WHAT?”

Fin

Masterlist

Taglist: @haydens-moles @valkyrieofthehighfae @aurora-sweet @hoeforcuteguyswithcharmingsmiles @sebbystanlover-vk @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @nebulastarr @meegggoooo @skylerrae-solo @wintersoldiersthings @blondekel77 @gogolucky13 @buckysm3talarm @heavenlyseb @writersbuck @badassbuchanan @buckyownsmylife @buckysdolls @notwithoutbarnes @cherryblossomskye @ladyfallonavenger @drinkfantasy @tonystankschild @tfandtws @osterfieldshollandgirl

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awake-dearheart · 4 years ago

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it took me a couple days but here’s a rundown of things sebastian said during the zoom call with his trainer don saladino and the march challenge group. he was on for an hour and three minutes total. keep in mind this challenge was fitness oriented so most of the questions revolve around that. this will also be LONG.

first of all he had trouble unmuting himself which was hilarious

he had a carboard cutout of the falcon with him which made everyone laugh

he loved being able to support ronald mcdonald house and he was sad they couldn’t go this year. sweet baby

when he was asked what he struggles with in his fitness he immediately said body dysmorphia. like no hesitation. he said he felt like he could stand to be less hard on himself.

he prefers cardio over other kinds of workouts.

he mentioned a role he’s getting ready for that’s “a lot different” but he laughed it off and said he couldn’t talk about it. i’m thinking it might have been tommy lee?

he tries to workout even just a little before he goes to set even when his schedule is crazy.

when he started training he had NO idea what he was doing. it took him a while to get into a routine and figure it out. he credited don with working a lot with him and finding a routine that works for him.

he feels better when he can do something physical every day. he said it really helps him mentally because the two go hand in hand for him.

someone said they were learning romanian and asked him for phrases to learn in romanian he said (in romanian) “oh my GOD why would you do that?” he also said he thinks people learning romanian because of him is “one of the sweetest things.”

he was asked how he balances training to look good vs training to feel good and he said if he’s training to look good he’s never 100% satisfied. training to feel good and setting short term goals has been better for him.

don praised him for working hard to pivot his focus on the overall vs the day to day. seb said it was a lot harder when he started than it is now.

someone asked him if the workouts or the nutrition was harder and he immediately started talking about pizza and how much he loves a good cheat meal. the chat blew up talking about his cheat day video for men’s health.

seb asked don his favorite cheat meal and they went on a tangent about burgers and fries and vodka that had us cracking up. seb said he went through a period where he was eating some kind of chocolate every day.

someone asked if he found it mentally difficult to go from one body type to another for roles and he said absolutely. he said if he has a shirtless scene to do then a month before he cuts out ALL sugar. fruits, carbs, everything and he turns into a very irritable person for about two weeks.

he was asked how the pandemic has changed his training and he said of course it has. him and don worked together to create a program for him to do from home with dumbbells and they had to get inventive. he’s been running a lot too.

someone asked the strangest item he’s used for weights and he said he’d go to the grocery store by himself without uber or anything. he tried to do one big shopping trip to last him for a week and half and he’d be laden with bags and it took him an hour and a half to walk home.

he told a story about using a towel and a bar in his house and he said “you probably know it because some “super fans” love to leak my address. so kind. lovely people.” the chat became v enraged.

he’s never had to get in shape on super short notice. marvel usually gives him about a 2 month heads up before he has to shoot things.

someone asked if he was a dog person. he said he loves dogs and he’d love to have one but he travels too much to give one the right kind of attention. he said if he could have a dog he’d have a bulldog or a husky.

he was asked his favorite nyc cheat meal and his first answer was “seeing all of you there” and we all cracked up. his real answer was a pizza place called rubirosa. he specifically likes their white pizza. (who wants to go to new york and get pizza with me?)

who would win in an iso squat challenge? him or don? (iso squats are when you drop into a squat and you hold it. it’s been the most hated exercise throughout the challenge). his face was HORRIFIED when he remembered what they are and he said don would definitely win. “don you have thighs of glory” the group is contemplating making shirts.

he played some sports in school but he wasn’t a super athletic kid. he struggled in school a bit because he had an accent and people were picking on him. it took a long time for his confidence to build.

celebrate victories where you can. he talked about when he posted that shirtless picture from the gym as an example. he said it’s more for motivation and pride in his achievements than about showing off.

he mentioned the documentary “the weight of gold” as something he watched recently. he said it’s a good example of people who are gold medal olympians struggling with the same things as everyone else when it comes to fitness. he comes back several times to not being too hard on yourself.

he hasn’t lifted any weights in about a month and a half but he’s been running. he’s surprised at the amount of muscle he still has because he thought he’d lose a lot of it.

taking breaks when you’re working on fitness is so important. he says taking a week off sometimes is ok if that’s what you need.

they have talked about pizza at least 5 times at this point (32 minutes in) and it’s HILAROUS honestly.

he hates leg day. he knows how important it is because you need strong legs but he prefers doing arms and chest. “the squats can be so annoying UGH.”

someone asked him his advice for people who are starting an acting career and he laughed and said “quit all social media.” he walked it back and said you have to find a way to quiet the noise.

this mfer went to theatre camp when he was 15 and he did MUSICALS. we tired to get him to sing. it didn’t work.

“you gotta do you. you cannot lose you as you’re going. and you cannot care what people think.”

he talked about imposter syndrome in terms of getting reviews and stuff. he said when he gets bad reviews it hurts but sometimes when he gets good reviews he can think “oh my god they made a mistake” or “oh my god i have to deliver like this every time.” he said if you’re starting out ask yourself why you want to do this and make sure this is what you want to do day in a day out. make sure when you face rejection and obstacles you have the energy to push you to get back up and say “fuck you i’m doing me.”

recommended the book “the subtle art of not giving a fuck” as something he loves.

“there’s creativity in everything. you don’t have to be a pianist or an actor or a writer. there’s creativity in all functions. as people we’re all creative.”

he went back to instagram for a minute and said to use it for the right things and follow the things that you like or are inspired by. he loves that social media can be used to reach people but you have to filter through the negative stuff.

someone asked the meanest thing don’t ever said during training and he said don’s never been mean but he’s always been inspiring and motivating for him. cute lil bromance moment.

he was asked if it’s harder to get into shape physically for the winter soldier or mentally. he said now it’s more of a head thing than it was in the beginning. the physically part was challenging for him in the beginning because he wanted to feel strong to build his confidence. he felt he couldn’t be bucky without being strong.

civil war was his real hair but when they started filming it wasn’t long enough so he had extensions. by the end of the shoot it was long enough to cut the extensions out.

the line between overtraining and not being motivated to train enough is hard for him sometimes. things tend to come all at once or not at all and it can be a struggle.

he meditates and does some kind of physical activity every day at the start of his day. it makes him able to do the things he needs to do for the rest of the day better.

he thanked everyone for their support of tfaws and “making us look pretty good.” he’s very grateful for the turnout.

don says falcon weird. that’s not important but i wanted to mention it.

running is his go to thing. he feels like it’s a good meditative thing for him. his go to pandemic workout was 100 pull ups, 100 push ups, 100 sit ups, 100 squats and alternating with running. we all panicked and were like “100 PULL UPS AT ONCE??” and he was like no no no no no no no no space that shit out during the day.

he loves breakfast but he doesn’t eat it at breakfast time. he joked he was going to eat breakfast after the call (which ended at 7PM). he likes anything with eggs and avocado.

there are still directors he wants to work with that he can’t get to see him for parts. he did three audition tapes, two in person auditions, and a screen test to get bucky.

he just recently learned what “thirst pics” are (he figured out from the chat it’s thirst traps). when someone told him that picture from the gym was a thirst trap he was like “oh great well that sounds terrible.” men’s health didn’t call him until after that pic. he had reached out to them before that but that was the thing that made them call.

“make fun of yourself. you have to not take yourself too seriously.”

they both talked about how being able to do things like this is a privilege. there are always days when seb or don or anyone walks into a gym and doesn’t want to be there.

this is the part that made me emotional as FUCK. he’s had days where he’s gone to set and been like “what the fuck am i doing?” he says every time that happens he thinks “this is the time they’re gonna realize i can’t do this. this is when they’re all gonna know i’ve never been good at this.” he said in those moments you can’t just say “no no no i’m the best.” he said sometimes affirmations work and they can be as simple as “i’m gonna try to have a good day today” and it doesn’t have to be “i have to be the best version of myself.” it can just be “i wanna have a good day today” but on the days when you don’t feel good about things and don’t know what you’re doing he said you have to go there and say “ok i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing. fuck everything.” be in the thing that’s happening to you and give yourself permission to be down for a minute. find a compromise with yourself. if you can’t run the same three miles you’ve run all week and you just don’t want to, maybe you go for a walk instead. (his example not mine i DO NOT run). when he’s been in those moments of defeat accepting it had lead him to things he didn’t plan for and he finds those moments to be gifts in a way. accepting it and saying “today is that day” your body and your mind can start moving into finding other little things to do.

he came back to pizza one more time. i love him.

he recognizes how lucky he is to have the life he has. he says it’s important to pay attention to give a fuck about things and to give a fuck about things that will help other people.

watching him talk the whole time he seemed so happy and relaxed. he seems like such a light hearted and fun person and he laughed SO much

that’s the end y’all. thanks for sticking around and reading all my hastily typed notes

#Sebastian Stan #don saladino

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sashayaweh · 4 years ago

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Sam and Bucky dance to this song after having to take refuge in a safe house during a particularly high stakes mission. Theres a record player and Sam makes this necessary senior citizen taunts when he catches Bucky's frequent glances towards where it sits on the wooden shelf. Eventually, Sam walls over to fiddle with it because Bucky insists on faking disinterest, but Sam really wants to see him being not-so-boring for once. It was rare to see the other man take interests in his surroundings, barring the hyperawareness that he had for every environment he found himself in.

Sam could almost imagine Bucky's robo-brain whirring to calculate all the exits, people, and vantage points for any possible threat. He never seemed to fully relax. Even sitting in a chair, he sat stiffly as if he was ready to leap out at at any moment. Sam could understand. He wasn't brainwashed and weaponized for 70 years, sure. But he has seen war and death. Things he'd rather forget. And he's felt fear. The initial fear of the thousand foot free falls, the fear of the police and the banks, and the fear of losing himself in it all. So, Sam gets the mental burden and understands how hard it is to leave once you're in.

So, he fiddles with the record player and pretends not to know how to work it. There's no other records visible, but luckily one is still in place. Bucky would eventually get irritated and put everything into place because he knows what Sam is doing. And he knows that Sam knows. Because Sam knows everything. Bucky assumes this from the amount of time the other man spends talking. So, he puts the record on like old times and ignores the lump trying to force its way up and the memories that resurface. Steve-

"You're lucky, man. Etta James, and a classic at that, talk about a two for one. Looks like our luck it starting to turn around, CP30," Sam smile toothily and Bucky wants to do do something to that gap in his teeth. He doesn't quite know what that is yet. Maybe punch it because Sam knows he doesn't understand that obvious reference. But Sam's smile soften to a close, and the corners curl at the edges as his head begins to sway with the notes. Like silk curtains, his eyes slip close in simple pleasure as if he was settling himself into the music.

Bucky watches and feels awkward. At some point, in the past, he would know what to do in the situation. He would know what to do with the violins and the soulful tones curling words of longing into the air. And tired fulfillment. Maybe, he would know what to do with Sam but he doubts it. Or at least how to...be himself. Maybe then they wouldn't argue for once. Sam opens his eyes and looks over to see Bucky who stood, stone faced and deep in thought. The focus of his hooded stare was intense and Sam scoffed. The other man was being broody again.

"Are you even listening to the music or did you zone out again?" He shifts, slightly elbowing his companion and Bucky blinks, his thoughts shifting back to the present.

"You started talking, I couldn't help myself," Bucky quips and Sam let's out a soft scoft that becomes a short laugh. Bucky feels his own lips twitch.

"You gotta relax, man. You could beat a piñata with the stick you have up your ass," Sam shakes his head. That wide tooth smile is back but this time its less cocky and a little more warm. Bucky rolls his eyes and looks away. He does that a lot. At least he understood the reference this time.

Sam sighs and stops the music. He replaces the needle at the original point and let's it go. After a few seconds of crackling silence, the song fills the room again. Sam slaps the back of his hand gently against Bucky's chest and steps back with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Wanna dance, old man?"

Bucky gently freezes in shock but Sam catches it because he expected it, really. Its why he asked in the first place. He wants to shake up that tightly wound exposure that Bucky has at all times. And he was bored. Bucky was not a talkative person and their current predicament left them without many sources for entertainment. It'd been hours since they arrived, yet Sam was feeling the time pass under his skin like an itch. He was exhausted and body weary, but it was better to stay awake so he could orient to the new time zone. As a result, he couldn't help but pester the other man.

"No."

Sam just kept looking at him. His gaze was sleepy, but a twinkle of the earlier mischief still shined through. Similarly, his skin reflected the warmth of the sun as it clung to the early evening and seeped through the windows. It was lucky that they got to be above ground this time.

The staring lasted a long moment. Like it always did. Then Sam shrugged.

"I know dancing may not be a particular talent of yours-" but before he could finish, Bucky was in his space and the rest of Sam's sentenced disappeared with some of his bravado. Bucky was fast and his sudden closeness wasn't expected given the man's reservations a second ago. The sudden adrenaline that had sparked through Sam's started to fade too. He wasn't scared of his companion, but the man's behavior was largely still a mystery to Sam which meant that sometimes he was caught off-guard.

Bucky raised his right hand out, brow arched expectantly, and Sam took it with caution. The man's other hand rose to hover a few inches above Sam's hip, and it took a few moments before he realized Bucky was waiting for permission. His cheeks warmed and he hoped his complexion made it less obvious. He gently guided the metal hand until Bucky settled it on the jut of his hip, the surface cool and smooth under his soft hold.

"Aren't you a gentleman? Thats that old-school chivalry," Sam teased. Bucky pulled their bodies closer and smirked wryly.

"I aim to please." A new song had started and Bucky briefly tore his attention from the heat he felt spreading along his front. He hadn't danced in a long time. Not like this.

The current song featured a masculine husk crooning affections for the listener. It was accompanied by the distinct, steady tempo of a piano. Bucky felt his body catch the music, the way he'd been taught, quickly adjusting to an appropriate rhythm. Sam followed without much of a pause, finally starting to settle into the feelings of sharing this foreign intimacy with the familiar stranger who was holding him so damn gently. Even so, Bucky gripped him firmly like he'd catch Sam if he even thought about falling.

It was...nice. Nicer than Sam (or either of them, really) had expected. He hadn't been held in who knows how long. He was too busy and had mostly outgrown flings, but it wouldn't be fair to a potential partner if he randomly left on long missions that required little to no contact with those who didn't have the clearance. But that was kind of an excuse. Since everything that had happened, Sam hasn't much felt like having others in his space. He was a social person and owned that, sure. But it was hard to open up authentically as much as he teased Bucky about his tendency to isolate himself. He tries to take the advice he regularly gives to the veterans he takes under his wing. Its enough to sustain his close relationships, including whatever he has going on with One Armed Wonder, but he has little energy to offer anyone else. He has to remind himself that thats okay.

Without thinking, Sam realized he had sunk his head into the crook of Bucky's shoulder. He had started to drift, still following the gentle sways of his partner's body like a boat welcoming the gentle rocking of small waves after a storm. Bucky hadn't said anything, luckily, so Sam remains in his position and enjoys the comforting sounds of soul that has wrapped around them.

He had finally put Bucky onto some real good conditioner after growing sick of the greasy tresses the man sported as the Winter Soldier. No judgement. Its hard to have a solid hair care routine as an international assassin for magic super Nazis. But now, it smelled like honeyed coconuts instead of the scentless, dollar brands he used to buy at random. Even though Bucky's hair was shorter, Sam still caught wiffs of it near his neck. It was more noticeable this close given the man's lack of cologne.

Bucky had noticed earlier when Sam's head dipped into his shoulder. Shortly after, he though he had heard soft snores, but the man's body had otherwise remained upright and solid like usual. He had continued to follow the pattern they'd set, so Bucky had just shifted his hand to his partner's lower back to provide support and kept their pace steady. Otherwise, he lost himself in the heat of Sam's hand and the confusing stillness that had settled in his chest. He felt...anchored. But that was Sam. He was strong and steady, and reliable, but just as capable of sinking as anyone else without the support he inarguable deserved. The support Bucky tried to provide.

Steve was gone now. He'd left the both of them to figure out the aftermath of everything that had happened. Bucky wondered if it hurt Sam like it hurt for him. He didn't blame his Steve; couldn't begrudge him that act of selfishness after all they'd been through. Without Rogers' strong presence between them, they had been left to scramble in the gap and reshape it for two. Sam had his family and Bucky had his therapist, but nobody could understand the them as much as the other, as different as they are. So here they are, slow dancing in a safehouse Rhodes had been generous enough to lend them on short notice. He was amicable towards Bucky, but the generosity was really for Sam. Bucky's neck itched, likely with dried sweat, and he sighed internally. He needed a shower.

The man worked his hand against Sam's lower back instinctually and the other man responds with a questioning hum tinged with sleepiness. Bucky doesnt have an answer so they continue in silence. The song had changed. It was a woman again. She was singing the Blues, if Bucky guessed correctly. He's been picking up more of the music Sam liked. It could be relaxing but full-bodied one moment or rich and thrilling the next.

So far, he has only worked his way up the mid-80s. Sam jokesthat his sensitive hearing isnt prepared for the young and hip tastes that dominate the charts, but he'll still sneak recent artists into his recommendations so Bucky isnt completely "out of the loop." Like always, Bucky would just roll his eyes, but now and again he closes them and try to imagine what Sam felt when listened to the music. Wonders at the connections the man shares with the melodies, and the histories curved into the lyrics. Some things, he couldn't ever understand, even if he tries. So, other times, he just listens.

Now, he's curled over his partner's slightly shorter stature, nose brushing the other man's temple. Sam was not a small man. He was built like a brick house. His upper body was strong, but his lower half was thick with muscle and padded by soft curves of flesh. Probably because he only does legs. Meanwhile, Bucky's own body is near the opposite: wide, sturdy chest that tapers to a firm waist and steady, straight legs. They contrast nicely, Bucky thinks. Filling up the spaces the other doesn't. For two people of their size, they still manag to fit snugly with little space between their bodies. Any closer, and Bucky isn't sure how he'd handle the proximity. He feels lulled into the calmness of the evening that had unexpectedly crept up on them in the quiet of everything around them, save for the music.

The two danced a bit longer, but eventually Sam's body grew too weary after the lack of sleep. With hesitancy, they quietly parted after the final notes of the song slipped from the record player. Bucky turns stopped the music while Sam flops into the nearby couch. His growing exhaustion does not stop him from throwing a smirk Bucky's way which the man met with his regular deadpan stare.

"Not bad. Not a single hip replacement necessary. I'd say thats a success for two old men." Sam quipped. Bucky stayed silent.

"You're not old," he finally said. He hadn't moved from his spot by the record player.

"Hmmm. Well, compared to you, 42 isn't that old." Sam lets his eyes close again but Bucky clears his throat, causing one of them to open in question.

"There's a bedroom upstairs," he explains carefully. They've been on the move for some time now with little time for real rest. If Sam was going to finally sleep then it should be in a real bed, at least.

Sam lets out out a quick laugh, "if you think you can butter me up with a dance-"

Bucky cuts off his teasing with a quick glare. If there was ever a moment being the Winter Soldier has served him, it was now. Otherwise, the heat he could feel trying to redden his ears would send Sam into a fit of hysterics.

"I did a perimeter check when we arrived. There's three bedrooms upstairs. All of them have en-suites bathrooms so take your choice," Bucky grumbles out, avoiding eye contact with his counterpart. The earlier stillness he had felt was slowly disappearing now that they were interacting again. His nerves were more taxed than before. He'll analyze that later. Maybe with his therapist, but she was kind of petty, so maybe not.

Sam's teasing smirk has settled into something a little more kind as he rises frim his seat and crosses the room to where Bucky stands. He roughly claps the other man's arm a couple of times before settling the familiar weight of his hand at the ball of Bucky's shoulder.

"I'm just messing with you, man. Thanks though. That couch would do my back in after being thrown by that explosion. Luckily, you were there to provide some cushioning," he says with that toothy smile. Before Bucky can respond, Sam bids him goodnight and slowly makes his way upstairs. Bucky watches him go, dry-mouthed and slightly confused. Once Sam has completely disappeared from view, Bucky takes in his surroundings and feels the emptiness of the room without Wilson's presence.

He'll do one more perimeter check then turn in for the night. Even he can feel the pullings of sleep. Maybe tonight, he'll dream about dancing.

#Spotify #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #winterfalcon #tfatws #fatws #this was not supposed to be a fic #but it turned into one #mcu marvel #cliche #fics #edit later

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buckyandberries · 4 years ago

Text

baby

Summary: Bucky gets turned into a baby on a mission that went wrong, and it’s Y/N’s job to look after him until he gets turned back.

Pairing: Baby!Bucky x Female Reader

Warnings: cute fluffy stuff, flirty Sam lol

Word Count: 1,253

A/N: I saw this cute pic on pinterest and was like YES - it’s not my picture btw, credits to the artist

please don’t copy my work, but feel free to reblog :)

Pat, pat

Before I went to train, I heard a patting noise. I scanned my room before realizing that it was coming from outside--

Pat, pat

My thoughts were interrupted as I walked to the door, opening it. To my surprise, I saw no one. As I went to close my door, I felt something pat my foot, in the same manner as the infamous 'pat, pat'. I looked down to see a beautiful baby boy who definitely had too much hair for his little age. I gasped as I bent down to analyze this baby. His piercing, blue eyes lit up almost, as I smiled at the infant. I wasn't sure whose baby it was.

"Hey, Friday, who is this gorgeous baby boy, and where are his carers?" I cooed to the A.I as I scooted closer to pick him up.

I noticed the left arm of his onesie wasn't filled with a cute, chunky baby arm, and as I picked him up, I realized that he didn't even have one.

"Miss L/N, this baby is--"

"Buck?" I said to him as he smiled widely grabbing onto my face with his right hand. "What happened?"

"Mr. Barnes was turned into a baby on a recent mission, and Mr. Stark, Mr. Banner, and Mr. Rogers are currently finding a way to reverse the effects," I stared at his face, still shocked that I was holding baby Bucky.

"Miss L/N, you have an incoming call from Mr. Rogers," I tapped my inner-ear to answer it.

"Y/N, you haven't seen a baby have you-- yes Tony I'm asking her now," Steve said all panicked as Bucky squealed happily, upon hearing Steve's voice.

"Don't worry, Steve. He found his way to my room, I'll look after him if you want,"

"Oh, thank God! We're still working on a 'cure'-- well I don't really know what they're talking about, I'm just here for moral support, I guess,"

"No problem, I used to babysit all the time. Plus, it's Bucky, he's not too hard to look after," I smiled at the baby in my arms.

"Alright, call if you need anything, we'll let you know if we come up with anything. Also, there's a bag in the store cupboard with some baby stuff that Clint left,"

"Ok," and with that, it was just myself and Bucky-- baby Bucky.

There wasn't much to do with him, because every time I put him down, he would cry; typical clingy Buck. I didn't mind, though.

I noticed he was chewing at my hair, so I figured he was hungry. I walked to the kitchen with him, trying to think of things to feed a baby, other than baby food, which we obviously didn't have on hand.

"Hey, Y/N-- Woah, when did you have a baby? You didn't look pregnant," Sam walked in staring at the baby.

"Ha, no, Buck got turned into a baby on a mission," I said, smiling at him. "Actually, could you hold him while I find something for him to eat?" I asked as Sam groaned.

"Urg, fine," I passed him to Sam, before searching the cupboards. "Come on little man, stop moving-- stay still," I looked over to see Bucky getting a bit annoyed. Before we knew it, Bucky was wailing and leaning towards me. I frowned before quickly taking him from Sam.

"That was successful," Sam grumbled before looking in the cupboards for me. "Is apple sauce alright?" he asked as I rocked Bucky, nodding.

Since we didn't have a highchair, I sat Bucky on my lap and fed him with a plastic spoon.

"Wow, Y/N, you're great with kids," Sam said as I wiped the corners of Bucky's mouth. "You're basically wife material if you know what I mean," Bucky and I both looked over to see him wink at me.

I felt Bucky fidget on my lap, making me put the food down and picking him up. "Hey, it's alright, bubba," I said, realizing that adult Bucky usually gets annoyed when Sam flirts with me. "I don't like him, like that," I reassured the baby before I kissed his forehead, smiling as he rested his head in the crook of my neck, snuggling to me.

"Whatever, I'm gonna go," he said leaving quickly. "Let's go rest, you look tired, bubba," I said softly, walking to my room. I laid him down on my bed and changed his nappy, of course covering his manhood, because Bucky's still my co-worker technically, so, you know, gotta keep it professional.

I was tired too, so I laid down on the bed, before grabbing him and laying him on my stomach. He started fidgeting again, rolling over to face me. He reached over to my lips with his little finger and kept prodding them. I looked at him, confused because I didn't know what this baby wanted.

I realized that when Bucky used to get insomnia, I used to sing to him. "Oh, do you want me to sing to you?" I asked. I watched his lips widen into a smile. "Um, alright,"

"And now, the end is near, and so I face the final curtain," I began to sing 'My Way' by Frank Sinatra, softly. "My friend, I'll say it clear, I'll state my case, of which I am certain,"

"I've lived a life that's full, I've traveled each and every highway," I brought him up so his head was resting in my neck. "And more, much more than this, I did it-- my way,"

"Regrets, I've had a few, but then again, too few to mention, I did what I had to do, and saw it through without exemption. I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway. And more, much more than this, I did it-- my way," I gently rubbed his back as I heard soft breaths leaving his tiny nose.

"Goodnight, bubba," I pressed my lips on his forehead once more. "I really hope you remember this when you turn back," and with that, I slowly fell asleep with him in my arms.

"Y/N, wake up," I flutter my tired eyes open to see adult Bucky standing over me in his training clothes. I shot up quickly and looked down to see no baby in my arms.

"You up for training?" he asked as I wondered why I had such a weird dream; I was probably really hormonal.

"Sure," he offered a hand and pulled me out of bed like I was a feather - perks of the super-soldier serum, I guess. "Hey," I spoke as he turned to me as we walked to the elevator. "I had the strangest dream that you were turned into a baby and that I had to look after you--"

"Oh that happened, Y/N," Sam said as I looked over to him and back at Bucky.

"Do-- do you remember anything, Buck?" I asked. "Yeah, I remember you feeding me,"

"Oh and also, the fact that you're beautiful voice is still capable of putting me to sleep keeps coming up," I blushed as he smiled.

"And more, much more than this, I did it-- my way," he sung as we walked into the elevator.

"I'm glad you remembered," I said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Well, now that you've looked after me as a baby, I think it's only fair that I return a favor and take you out," he said as I smiled.

"I'd like that,"

"Sounds perfect,"

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel

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sylvain-writes · 4 years ago

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If We Say the Words (Raphael x Reader)

Rated: G Gender Neutral Reader, friends to lovers, pining, affection, confessing feelings You and Raphael have been 'dating' but not really. It's finally time to confront your feelings, if only Raphael would make his move. for @bppeny32

Raphael's arm brushes yours as you approach your door, rough and solid and perfect. You hold yourself back from linking your arm with his and leaning in, but the fantasy niggles at the back of your mind.

Your discussion has turned animated as you playfully argue whose Mandarin was better when you'd practiced with Meili at her family's restaurant during dinner. While Raphael was the clear winner last week at Omatsu, you think you've pulled out a win tonight.

"Admit defeat, Raph,” you tease, switching to walk backwards. You poke his chest to make your point known. “I saw you pretending to like the peanut noodles. You could have told her you messed up your order."

You give him a playful shove that does nothing to alter his stride, and it’s really just an excuse to touch him again.

He pretends the overcast sky is the most interesting thing he’s seen all night, but then gives you a sideways glance and a twisted scowl that has you in stitches.

"Still a sore loser, huh?" You pivot to face front as you approach your townhouse. The steps are slick with wet fallen leaves, and as you lead the climb, Raphael steadies you with hands on your waist.

"Sore?," he says, "Wouldn't know." You wonder how he's so unaffected by the touch that’s left you breathless. “I neva lose." The soft light of the streetlamp gives his eyes a mischievous twinkle.

"Oh, come on!" You give him a slap on the stomach before fishing for your keys. "You're coming in, right?"

Raphael tips his head with a grin, poised to say yes, when his pocket starts to ring. He lifts the phone to his ear with a gruff, "Hello," and a voice speaks immediately over the line.

Raphael meets your eyes. You smile, but he turns away.

He grunts into the phone, trying to mask his frustration with short answers and a tight jaw. But it bleeds through his protests.

You slide your hand up the curve of his shell in silent support of whatever he's going through. The clench and release pattern of the free hand at his side gives away his struggle to keep his even tone. You're proud of him for not losing his cool.

Abruptly, the conversation comes to an end. Raphael turns, his bulk and stature smaller somehow as he rounds his shoulders and dips his head low. He gives you a soft, despondent look before dropping his gaze to where your hands are linked. You don’t remember reaching out for him. You cover Raphael's hand as it flexes and turns.

When his eyes meet yours again, they're searching. Intense, and wide, and needful. Raphael stares and you take the smallest step forward. But instead of coming closer, Raphael lets his hand fall from your grasp.

"That was Leo," he says, telling you what you already know.

"Ok." Your short nod is a familiar one. Just as his goodbye will be.

"Mikey found a lead. I gotta go."

You think maybe tonight’s goodbye hurts more than the others.

You barely register the lonely walk up the stairwell. By the time you reach your floor, you know Raphael is already sprinting across town by the rooftops.

Your palm is hot with the memory of holding his hand. With the texture of his shell under your touch. Your fist curls around the phantom sensations regardless of how silly it is to think you can hold onto the feelings forever.

You can’t help but sigh with want for the loss of him. For the loss of the kiss that seemed a hair's breadth away before Raphael's hand dropped from yours.

It would have softened the goodbye; it would have been a sign. It would have been a long time coming. With a heavy heart, you think, It'll be a long time still.

You can't force Raphael to move faster than he's willing to go. And if he's not comfortable, if he doesn't feel safe exploring the feelings you both clearly share, then you'll go at his pace. You’ll follow his lead. Quietly you admit to yourself, you’ll follow him anywhere.

You've been spending more and more time together. And now it seems like you have a standing dinner date for Tuesday nights. No, not a date. Dinner and movies and moonlit walks. Stargazing and late night phone calls. Family game nights and music exchanges. But no dates. Right. You're not dating.

And when you stand close or choose the seats closest to each other, when your heart leaps into your throat at his texts and your breath catches in your chest at each compliment, when his face lights up the moment he's caught sight of you, that's not a testament to your mutual attraction.

You flirt and you touch and everyone says that one day you'll be more than friends, but each day that passes without Raph taking the next step leaves you feeling like maybe everyone's imagining it all.

Yawning and trying not to think about how your loneliness feels heavier tonight, you flick off the light in the hallway and walk into your bedroom.

You're too focused on the drawstring tie of your pajama bottoms to notice the large form seated at your window. But once you look up, there's no way you can miss Raphael's imposing figure.

Only, he doesn't look intimidating at all. In fact, he looks smaller than he's ever seemed. And it's not that he's lost bulk. No, it’s the way he stoops and curls in on himself, as if afraid to take up too much space. And it breaks your heart to see your boisterous, confident warrior like this twice in a night.

"Raph?"

He grinds his fist into his palm, refusing to meet your eye. "I'm always cuttin' out." It's an apology and an accusation against himself rolled into one.

"It's ok."

"Naw, it ain't. Ya deserve so much better than that." His accent is heavier than usual; his voice thick with emotions you can tell he’s holding back.

You let what he says hang, afraid anything said to the contrary might incite an argument. It would be so easy to fall into the trap, so easy to say the wrong thing and push him away. So, you draw him closer instead.

"You must be tired," you acknowledge delicately. "I know I'm beat, and I wasn't the one running all over the city chasin-"

He holds up a hand to stop you from going further. He doesn't like to drag you into the mess of what's going on. Foot soldiers were one thing. But since the aliens and mutants started popping up, he’s tried to shelter you from whatever the News doesn't cover.

"Come on," you say, climbing onto the bed. You don't direct him to lie with you, you don't ask for a cuddle. But the request is implicit. Even if these are things the two of you don't ask for out loud.

When he sits against the headboard, you slide into place as you've done dozens of times before. The weight of his arm curls around you, a shelter and a shield. Your head and hand fall gently to his chest and he lies back with a quiet sigh.

You draw circles over his heart, following the swirling pattern of his plated plastron and perhaps this would be the time when other couples open their hearts and talk about their feelings. But you don’t expect that from Raphael. Not when words are so difficult.

When emotions run high, he lies low. And you have always taken Raphael - you've always loved him - as he is.

It's a long while of silence. But it's comfortable and sweet.

You gather every minute. Clutch them tight. Cherish them. It sometimes feels like you steal these moments from his hectic life. You don't take a second for granted.

His blunt fingertip follows the shell of your ear and your heart skips with the yet unspoken affection between you. He stops at your earlobe, offering slight pressure. Distracted by his thoughts, he rubs the soft flesh between his thumb and forefinger.

Raphael draws in a deep breath and the shift in his pattern has your full attention.

"What if..." Raphael starts and stops. His voice sinks into the space between you, rough and broken. "What if we were doin' this for real?"

Hearing him struggle for words, you hate to ask for clarification. “This?"

Raphael's breath hitches and you swallow hard to push down your rising nervousness. "You and me. But, y'know..."

"For real," you finish his thought.

"Yeah.” His focus is on the delicate curve of your ear, the slope of your neck, anywhere but your eyes. “Know I ain't good enough,” he says and gives a small grunt to clear his throat from shaking. “Know I'm always gone or leavin'. But when I'm not, I wanna be here."

You tuck your chin and rest your forehead on his chest. Your 'yes' sounds more like a whimper than a word; you're not sure Raphael heard it for what it is.

His words burrow into your heart, and the muscle aches as if his confession has expanded the muscle.

You confess more clearly, "I want you here," and your arms encircle him as best they can and squeeze.

Raphael combs his fingers through your hair. He pets and waits, and you lift your gaze to his.

His green eyes shine, catching the glow of the bedside lamp. "...That mean we're doing this thing?” Hope tremors through his chest and your palm tingles with the vibration. “Cause I been wanting to kiss ya."

You crawl up beside him and plant a little kiss on his cheek. His skin grows warm and dark. Then, with a hand on his neck, you coax him to turn for more. The kiss is natural and safe. It feels like home, with the excitement of a favorite holiday. Your heart flutters and flips. You smile against Raphael's lips.

When his phone interrupts your night again, you kiss his cheek and settle back on the pillows to allow him room to answer the call.

“Leo?” Raphael relaxes immediately, then flushes dark, and gives a nervous chuckle.

Your smile returns easily. Watching Raphael’s relationship with Leo evolve has been a warm thrill for everyone who knows them.

“Yeah, I did.” Raphael answers Leo, and his hand sneaks toward you over the mattress. Though still wrapped up in the call, he hooks a finger over yours and smiles. “Yeah, I am.”

Raphael gives a contented grunt before tugging you close. You can hear Leo on the line as the pair of brothers exchange goodbyes.

“...happy for you, Raph,” Leo says and you blush at the approval. “I’m proud of you.”

Raphael stills in your embrace, unable to respond to his older brother's praise. Leo is understanding; he ends the call and Raph sets the phone aside without a word.

You cup Raphael's face and look into his eyes. You take your time, gazing down at him in a way you felt hasn’t been your right or privilege until now. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“Didn’t do nothin’,” Raphael mumbles humbly, his eyes transfixed on you.

But you know the truth of it now. Going to Leo for support, for help, still doesn’t come easily for Raph, despite the closeness they’ve gained. And if Leo is checking in, asking about you, then Raphael must have confided in him. Trusted him with his vulnerability.

You give Raphael a soft shake of your head and a firm kiss on the lips. "Wasn't nothing."

With your nose nuzzled against his, you tell him again. Because there are more words to be said - more you'd like for him to hear, and believe, and maybe one day say back. But today you'll start with this.

#TMNT x reader #raphael x reader #tmnt x gender neutral reader #raphael x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #prompt fill #request fill #my writing

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tcm · 5 years ago

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Sammy Davis Jr.: Civil Rights Activist and Natural Born Entertainer By Susan King

Sammy Davis Jr. was an exceptional talent. He could sing (you’ll get chills up your spine listening to his recording of “I Gotta Be Me”), dance, act and lest we forget, he was a member of the Rat Pack. He and Harry Belafonte made history in 1956 when they became the first African Americans to earn Emmy nominations.

But most people forget Davis was also very involved in the fight for civil rights in the 1950s and ‘60s. In January 1961, he joined Rat Packers Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin, as well as Harry Belafonte, Mahalia Jackson and Tony Bennett, for the Carnegie Hall benefit concert Tribute to Martin Luther King. He also performed at the Freedom Rally in Los Angeles that year and at the March on Montgomery in 1965.

The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. even wrote Davis a thank you note: “Not very long ago, it was customary for Negro artists to hold themselves aloof from the struggle for equality… Today, greats like Harry Belafonte, Sidney Poitier, Mahalia Jackson and yourself, of course, are not content to merely identify with the struggle. They actively participate in it, as artists and as citizens, adding the weight of their enormous prestige and thus helping to move the struggle forward.”

In 1968, Davis received the prestigious Spingarn Medal from the NAACP for his 1965 autobiography Yes, I Can. Nevertheless, considering his work for the late Dr. King, Davis shocked the world in 1972 when he supported Richard Nixon, who had a poor track record when it came to civil rights and would refer to African Americans in derogatory terms behind closed doors. But there was Davis, attending the opening night of the Republican convention in Miami Beach and then performing a concert for Republican youth. And it was during the concert that he hugged Nixon.

The backlash in the African American community was loud and strong. Wil Haywood stated in his biography In Black and White: The Life of Sammy Davis, Jr., “Sammy failed to understand Blacks’ distrust of Nixon’s ultraconservative views. The hug at the Republican National Convention, in the glare of the nation’s spotlight, seemed too to minstrelsy.“

Davis later said: “By their definition I had let them down. In their minds there were certain things I could do, certain rules I could break. I married a white woman and I hardly got any heat. But by going with a Republican president I had broken faith with my people.”

In a 1976 Ebony interview, Davis reflected that working with Nixon was not a betrayal to African Americans but a way to help Black citizens. “When my wife, Altovise, and I were invited to the White House after the November elections, I repeated [my recommendations],” he noted. “We started to rap, and he asks, ‘What can I do?’ Come on Sam, tell me what I can do.’ So, I laid it down again.”

He told Nixon that the funds cut from anti-poverty programs needed to be reinstated and that Martin Luther King’s birthday should be made a national holiday. But he soon realized Nixon wasn’t listening to him. He regretted supporting Nixon.

Davis was born in Harlem on December 8, 1925 to vaudevillians Sammy Davis Sr. and Elvera Sanchez, who was of Afro-Cuban descent. The couple separated in 1928, and Sammy Jr. lived with his father and his grandmother, Mama. He was just three when he joined the Will Mastin Trio with his father and Mastin. Davis never went to school. In a 2014 Los Angeles Times interview, his daughter Tracey Davis recalled her father telling her, “What have I got? No looks, no money, no education. Just talent.”

As a youngster, he appeared in short films, including Rufus Jones for President (’33). He toured with the Mastin Trio until he was drafted into the Army during World War II, where he suffered so much abuse from white soldiers that his nose was broken three times. “How did he make it and so many others not make it?,” Tracey Davis reflected. “He had talent. But what he went through would have killed a lot of people or make them bitter or just messed with your life so bad you couldn’t get over it.”

In 1954, Davis survived a car crash on his way home to Los Angeles after performing in Vegas. He lost an eye. He wore an eye-patch for six months and then was fitted with a glass eye. Two years later, he opened on Broadway in the musical Mr. Wonderful.

It was announced in August 2020 that a film is in pre-production about the ill-fated relationship in 1957 between Davis and Kim Novak. The relationship was quashed, as it would have killed Novak’s career and supposedly, it quite literally would have killed Davis – a hit was allegedly put out on his life. To keep the heat off of him, Davis was briefly married in 1958 to dancer Loray White.

In 1960, Davis married striking Swedish actress Mai Britt. According to Tracey Davis, her mother, who had appeared THE YOUNG LIONS (‘58) and THE BLUE ANGEL (‘59), was dropped by 20th Century-Fox because of her marriage. Tracey said her parents “didn’t regret being together. My mom loved my dad like crazy and my dad loved my mother. My mother was so lucky because her parents didn’t care.” Though they divorced in 1968, she said they never fell out of love. Before his death of cancer in 1990 at the age of 64, Davis told his daughter why they broke up: “I just couldn’t be what she wanted me to be. A family man. My performance schedule was rigorous.”

Tracey said that her dad and Sinatra were great friends offstage. “He was like a good cushion for dad.” And, if Davis ran into trouble due to his race, Sinatra was there to fight the good fight for his friend. “He’d say, ‘Oh, Sammy can’t come in here? Then I’m not coming in.’ I think it gave my dad such comfort knowing he had this big brother out there that would go to the mat for him.” Davis, who was a chain smoker and was rarely seen without a glass of vermouth, had a falling out with Sinatra in the early 1970s, because the performer was using drugs. “Frank was mad he was squandering himself, doing stupid things. He let dad know about it and dad was kind of well, I don’t care.’’ Eventually, Davis did care and apologized to the Chairman of the Board.

Being a member of the Rat Pack gave Davis a certain visibility, especially in the films they made together, including OCEAN’S 11 (‘60) and ROBIN AND THE 7 HOODS (‘64), but all of the actors were just having a good time on screen. These vehicles didn’t show Davis’s strength as a dramatic actor. But occasionally, he got the opportunity, such as in ANNA LUCASTA (‘58) opposite Eartha Kitt, CONVICTS 4 (‘62) and A MAN CALLED ADAM (‘66). And in 1964, he returned to the Broadway stage in the Charles Strouse-Lee Adams musical Golden Boy, for which he earned a Tony nomination.

“He was very representative of a time and place,” said Strouse in a 2003 L.A. Times interview. “He was created from a lot of forces, like the Earth coming in and ‘whoop,’ here comes Sammy Davis. He was brilliant along with everything else. He was the biggest star of the day and in the theater, he had no peer. We sold out all the time.”

But Davis also missed a lot of performances of Golden Boy. “He got himself very tired or perhaps depressed or nervous,” reflected Stouse, adding that Davis stretched himself thin “the way lemmings go to the edge of the cliff and then they go off. He didn’t go off, but he was always on the end of the cliff. He was very driven and yet very mild-mannered and almost submissive to Sinatra. He had to be loved. He wouldn’t get off the stage.”

As he got older, Davis stopped wearing flashy clothes and jewelry and got back to basics as a singer and performer. And, he is the best thing about his last film, TAP (‘89), with Gregory Hines. Their tap dance will make your heart beat a bit faster. Tracey Davis said though her father was “incredibly driven,” he had a “huge heart, a zest for life. He had more energy than anyone I had known.”

#Sammy Davis Jr #old hollywood #Rat Pack #1950s #civil rights #Black performers #Black actors #Eartha Kitt #Martin Luther King #politics #TCM #Summer Under the Stars #Turner Classic Movies #Susan King

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kyber-crystal · 5 years ago

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Always Close By

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~3.1k hehe kinda long

Summary: In which even the mightiest of superheroes aren’t immune to sickness, and when Steve falls ill, you end up babysitting him.

Warnings: none, just steve being a big baby ahaha

Sleep had never really come easily to you. Your insomnia had been a consistent issue since before you first joined the Avengers, so days like these in which you mindlessly wandered around the compound downing two or three cups of coffee and eating granola bars weren't uncommon.

You hadn't gotten a wink of sleep all night yet for some reason, weren't feeling drowsy like you usually did when you stayed up. This time Sam and Bucky were also awake with you, and the three of you switched between playing Mario Kart and Animal Crossing to kill time.

One by one the rest of the team began to wake up and you and Wanda decided to start preparing breakfast. After everyone had finished eating you'd noticed Steve still hadn't come out, and decided to go check up on him.

"Steve?" you knocked carefully on his bedroom door as to not disturb him. "It's time for breakfast."

You didn't get a proper reply but heard a light groan in response, deciding to go inside after several more attempts.

He was buried under his covers, forehead glistening with a cold sweat and his dirty-blonde hair disheveled. When he looked up to meet your gaze you noticed his cheeks were flushed a bright red from heat, and were immediately concerned at the sight.

"Hey," you said softly, carefully approaching him. "You okay?"

Steve just shivered and shook his head.

"What happened?"

"Don't know."

You brought a palm up to his forehead and were alarmed by how hot it felt, hissing at his feverishness as you pulled your hand back. "You're burning up."

"I'll be fine, don't worry," he chuckled, but his laugh turned into a coughing fit. "I'm, just, fine."

"You're coming down with a fever," you stated. "I thought you couldn't get sick."

"Apparently, I can," he coughed, "But it's just a simple flu. I'll be back to normal before you know it. We have our weekly sparring showdown tonight, right? I can't miss out on that."

Despite the calm tone in his voice, you still weren't convinced. The thermometer read a whopping 105.6 degrees and from what you knew, that meant you had to get medical help right away.

"No, you're not. Your body temperature is abnormally high. You're staying in bed," you ordered, then sighed. It was hard not to go soft at those puppy dog eyes, but you knew denying him from being able to do any strenuous physical activity was for the best.

"Can you please speak more quietly," Steve whispered, "I have a migraine."

"I'm sorry," you were quick to lower your voice, "hey...how did this even happen to you? Did you eat anything weird?"

"Food poisoning?"

"No, that can't be. We all ate takeout together for dinner last...shit, shawarma." Your eyes widened in realization. "Dammit, it is."

"Language," he said weakly.

"You're staying in bed for today, alright?" you gave him a stern look.

"I'm not completely disabled, I can stand. Just let me go get some breakfast and afterwards I'll come right back to bed."

"Fine."

You gripped his forearm to help him stand up and his arm immediately went around your waist. You weren't sure whether the heat radiating off him was from his fever or from the way he generally made you feel. Brushing the thought off, you helped him to the kitchen.

"Damn, Cap. What happened?" Sam raised a brow at his friend's appearance.

"I think Tony poisoned him," you shot the billionaire a death glare. "I knew something was up with that shawarma place."

"Then how come none of us are sick?" Tony questioned. "We all had the same thing."

"No, we didn't. Steve and I were the only ones who specifically ordered the chicken shawarma. You guys took kebabs."

"Then why aren't you sick?"

"I don't know."

Steve pulled up a chair to the kitchen island, immediately laying his head on the cool marble counter and closing his eyes.

"Hey, Cap, you think you can try and stomach this? You need to eat or your condition will get worse," Pepper urged as she pushed a plate of scrambled eggs and French toast towards the super-soldier. He pulled himself back up into a sitting position and took a bite out of his toast, but quickly set it down after a wave of nausea washed over his body and he bit back a gag.

He tried to stand up and stumbled, but you and Bruce were quick to catch him by his shoulders.

"Cap? Are you okay?" the scientist asked gently. "Steve."

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and grasping your waist tightly as he grew lightheaded, the world around him beginning to spin rapidly.

You lowered his head onto your lap as Wanda gave you a cold towel, and you pressed it to his sweaty forehead as you ran your other hand through his hair.

"We should get him back to his room, then I'll go get the treatments," Bruce explained as you tried to pull him back up, which was a lot harder than it seemed. "Then we'll figure it out from there."

"Jeez, how heavy are you," you said as you tried helping him to his feet. "I swear you're twice my weight..."

"172," he replied plainly.

"Feels a lot heavier than that. Thought you were at least 200 with all that broad muscle," you grunted as Bucky came forward to help you, and Steve slung his arms around both your shoulders.

Once you led him to his room, Steve lazily crawled back into bed and you pulled the covers over him. It didn't take long before he fell asleep, breathing steadier than before though it still sounded somewhat plugged.

“You sure you’re okay staying here with him?” Bucky raised an eyebrow at you. “If you’re tired too, I can step in if you want.”

“It’s fine, I can handle it. But thanks,” you yawned, waving him off. “Now go and...kick Sam’s ass in Mario Kart so I can face off against you later.”

“You got it,” he ruffled your hair before leaving the room.

You pulled out your phone to check the time, and sighed. 9:17.

I know I had a workout video scheduled to be posted, guys, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to have it up today, you typed out a quick message to your Twitter. Steve’s sick and I’m having to take care of him. Hope you all understand <3

Almost immediately, the replies came flooding in.

Awww we love a supportive teammate/gf

Couple goals uwu

Get better soon, Cap!

You smiled to yourself, setting your phone on Steve’s nightstand and running your hand through his hair again. He did look rather peaceful while asleep - and not to mention, flawless, with a face looking like it was sculpted by the Greek gods themselves. Times in which you saw him in a state like this were extremely rare, so you treasured every little moment you got. Between co-commanding missions with you, filing reports, and countless meetings with SHIELD officials (you let him doodle on your hand as he half-listened to the lectures), he was restless.

You didn’t know when or how you fell asleep, but when you woke up streams of bright light were filtering in through the windows, the sun high in the sky. You groaned and pushed yourself out of bed, gently laying Steve’s head against his pillow before standing up and shuffling down the hall to the kitchen.

“What time is it?” you rubbed your eyes with your sweater’s sleeve. “How long was I out for?”

“1:45. You want lunch? You hardly ate in the morning,” Rhodey pushed a plate towards you. “You’ve been asleep for roughly four hours, Y/N.”

You pulled your phone out again - the weather outside was apparently a breezy 68 degrees. The fact that it wasn’t even hot outside, but Steve was sweating profusely, made you concerned.

You let out a satisfied sigh as you bit into the sandwich (courtesy of Vision’s cooking), practically inhaling it in just a couple of bites. “Did any of you guys come down with symptoms...?”

“No, but you’ve been exposed so I’d advise that you take this,” Bruce handed you a small, blue pill. “It should keep you from catching Steve’s bug.”

You nodded and swallowed the pill down without even bothering to drink anything. “Alright.”

Just five minutes passed before your phone buzzed on the table. You were quick to answer, holding it up to your ear.

“Y/NNNN.”

“Steve? What do you need? Are you okay? When did you wake up?”

“A few minutes ago...I threw up and then went back to bed, but I couldn’t fall back asleep-”

“Oh, god. Hold on a second, I’ll be right there,” you promptly ended the call and got out of your seat, pushing the chair in before rushing down the hall to his room.

The super-soldier was sitting up in bed when you arrived, sweat streaming down his forehead as he leaned against the headboard, cheeks flushed a bright red. “Y/N-”

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay, I’m here, what do you need? Water? Ice?”

“I feel horrible.”

You brought your hand up to his forehead again, and immediately jerked it away. “You’re still running a really high f...dammit, have you taken any medicine?”

“No...”

“Stay right here, I’ll go get some-”

“Don’t leave me,” he begged hoarsely as he reached out to grab your wrist. You felt a twinge in your chest at that damn pleading look in his eyes. “Please don’t leave me.”

You let out a sigh of defeat. “...I’ll have Bucky bring the medicine then, okay?”

“Mhmmm.”

It turned out, taking care of a sick super-soldier was a lot more difficult than it seemed. You initially thought that with the serum in his veins, that Steve couldn’t get sick - but for some reason it only amplified his symptoms. Damn that shawarma.

After alerting FRIDAY, Bucky appeared holding a glass of ice water in his metal hand and a small bottle of some medication in the other.

“How ya feelin’, punk?”

“Hey, jerk...” Steve said weakly, “Why is there two of you standing in front of me?”

“He’s getting worse, Y/N...” he looked genuinely worried, his gaze flickering between you and Steve. “...I gotta go now so I won’t get sick...but Y/N will take care of you. Got it?”

“Mhmm.”

As soon as Bucky left you popped open the bottle. “Hey. Drink this.”

“It smells disgusting,” Steve scrunched his nose up in distaste.

“You need to or you’ll only get worse. Now come on,” you urged. He turned his head away to avoid drinking the strong-smelling liquid. “Stop acting like such a big baby. For Odin’s sake, just drink it.”

“No.”

“Do you want to keep feeling like this?”

“No.”

“Then drink the medicine! It’s not that hard.”

“No.”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” you said sternly. “Drink. It. I’m not going to repeat myself again.”

Your sudden firm tone of voice took him by surprise. “Fiiiine.”

He took the bottle from your hands and tilted his head back, gulping it down within seconds. As soon as he finished he made a face.

“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“It was.”

You pulled your chair closer to his bedside, propping your hand on your chin as you observed him. “Still feeling nauseous?”

“Mhmmm.”

“If you throw up, you’re gonna have to take this all over again. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

“No..I don’t wike it.”

You chuckled lightly. “I know. It’s for your own good, you know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s wait for a bit, and if you’re feeling well enough, I can make some onion soup for you, okay? How does that sound?”

“Amazing. I love your soup. Why don’t you cook more often?”

“Just never really considered it,” you shrugged.

Steve rubbed his eyes, subconsciously reaching over to grab your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. You felt your breath hitch in your throat. He then lifted your hand up to his face and pressed your palm to his flushed cheek, leaning into your touch.

You swallowed hard as you allowed yourself to stare again at his messy-haired, exhausted figure. Your chest ached. The things you were willing to do for him... god, you loved him so much...

“...Why are you staring?” he mumbled, glancing over to meet your worried eyes. “What’s that look on your face? Y/N...are you okay?”

You inhaled sharply. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

His brows furrowed together and he gave you a look that told you he didn’t believe what you said at all. “Sure you are.”

“I’m just worried about you.”

“You’re acting like these are my final moments and that I’m going to die soon. Stop worrying so much.”

“This is coming from the person who waited eight hours straight for me to undergo surgery after that Belarus case?”

“Uh huh.”

Several moments passed in silence before he spoke up again. “Thanks for taking care of me...I’m sorry for being a big baby. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“It’s alright,” you reassured him, “you’re not a burden at all.”

You ended up watching The Empire Strikes Back that afternoon, his head in your lap and you running your fingers through his soft hair. At one point in the movie he began to drift off, and you carefully slid yourself out of bed.

He stirred awake again, reaching for you. “Y/NNNN.”

“I’m gonna go make the soup for you. Rest up and if you’re feeling well enough, then shower and come out to the kitchen, okay?”

“Alright.”

“He doin’ better?” Rhodey raised an eyebrow at you.

“Fever’s gone down a bit but the nausea’s still there,” you exhaled as you began grabbing the necessary ingredients, “hey, uh, Pietro, can you go down to the cellar and grab some white wine?”

The speedster nodded and in a flash, he had the bottle in his hands. “Here.”

“Thank you.”

“Where’s Cap right now?” Sam questioned.

You heard the water running and replied, “Taking a shower. He’s been sweating like the Amazon.”

With Pietro’s help and your additional powers, you finished up the soup that was supposed to take an hour in just twenty-five minutes. By the time you were setting the bowl along with some bread onto a plate, Steve was hobbling into the kitchen, hair wet and messy with a towel hung around his neck. The tight T-shirt he changed into showed off his toned figure, and you almost dropped your glass of water at the sight.

His eyes immediately lit up upon seeing the food, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead. “I love you. You’re the best.”

“I know.” You winked and took a seat next to him. The team smirked at the flirty exchange.

Surprisingly enough, he had the entire thing finished under five minutes so that you had to give him a second serving, which he basically inhaled in two giant gulps.

“You were hungry, huh.”

“After throwing up yesterday’s dinner, yeah.”

You shot Tony a pointed glare. “Thanks a lot, Stark.”

“I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, and held his phone up. “Look, I called them earlier while you were asleep and they gave us a full refund.”

“Fine. Apology accepted.”

Steve’s migraines started acting up again and you were forced to help him back into bed (with Bucky’s assistance, of course). After spending all day hovering over him, you fell asleep as well, a mere thirty seconds after he did.

...

When you came to the next morning, you felt an arm tighten around your waist and a sleepy groan coming from right next to you. You slowly opened your eyes and realized you were curled up against him with a hand resting against his chest, your legs intertwined together as he held you tightly to him. A breath of relief escaped your lips when his face no longer looked alarmingly pale and his cheeks weren’t bright red.

Steve woke up a few seconds later, giving you a sleepy smile as his grip around you tightened.

"Mornin', doll," he said in a husky voice that made you almost swoon. But then he too, realized what was going on and quickly snapped out of it. "What- oh my God, I’m sorry-”

“Are y’all fully dressed in there? Wanda made her famous French toast feast for breakfast so if you don’t get yo asses out here I’m eating your food!” Sam yelled as he pounded on the door.

"Just a minute!” you shouted back in reply as you and Steve sprung apart, and swung your legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed a pair of clothes before heading to the bathroom to change.

“What the hell, Y/N, you actually slept for sixteen consecutive hours? I’ve never seen you do that before?”

“Huh? What time is it?”

“8:07. And why are you wearing Steve’s shirt?”

“What do you mean? I’m not...” you trailed off on your sentence and looked down to see that you were in fact, wearing one of Steve’s shirts. “...Oh.”

“Did you two...”

“No!”

“Cute,” you heard someone chuckle lowly from behind you and turned around to see a smirking Steve with his arms crossed over his chest.

“So I see now that you’re okay, you’re acting all cocky again, hm?” you raised an eyebrow at the super-soldier. “Guess those meds finally wore off.”

He just chuckled in response and pulled him towards you, engulfing you in a tight, hug.

“Let me go!” you squealed, squirming against his tight grip as the team watched in amusement. “I need to eat breakfast! Let me go!”

“Only if you say the words, sweetheart.”

“Let me go right this instant! I’m serious!” you began laughing uncontrollably. “Steve! Let me go!”

“Not until you say it.”

“Fine! I love you and you’re my favorite Avenger!” He released you from his arms and you brushed your shirt off. “There, happy?”

Steve laughed again, that same damn smirk on his face. “I didn’t know you could get flustered, Y/N.”

“I’m not flustered,” you muttered.

“Your face is like a tomato!” Peter exclaimed. “You wouldn’t look like that if you weren’t. Mr. Stark, looks like I owe you twenty.”

“Peter, did you make a bet with Tony again?” You frowned.

“Yep! We bet when we’d finally figure out you liked Cap and he bet within the next week, while I said three weeks.”

“Oh my god.”

216 notes · View notes

chilling-seavey · 4 years ago

Text

When Universes Collide - The AU Mini Series

The Lotus Inn is a place we all know well; and a place where all universes collide in a small ripple of the time space continuum. It’s the spot for characters of alternate universes to meet and interact – even those who are from vastly different worlds and timelines. In this one-shot, the characters from the universes of this blog gather for lunch at the Lotus Inn restaurant and discuss their similarities and differences.

Warning: This does contain spoilers to any and all fics on my blog so read with caution if you haven’t read all of them!

A/N This obviously isn’t part of any timeline and is just something I wrote for fun with a bit of help from T-Anon and @randomlimelightxxx! To tell each Daniel apart, they will be called by their fic name as their formal title…it might be a bit awkward at first but it would be the only way to not confuse the heck out of you since there are five nearly identical looking Daniel’s sitting around one table. (Also, I see this play out like a stage performance in my head which is weird).

A/N2 Let’s see how many times the word ‘Daniel’ is used in this story

The Lotus Inn – 11:54am

A table for five sat empty in the corner of the restaurant. The room was trimmed in purple neon lights and decorated in floral pictures with an old brick wall supporting the large bar along the back. It wasn’t busy as the crowd usually came in for the daily after-dinner partying and the quietness of the restaurant was only filled with the bar tender wiping down the glasses to stock.

The door to the restaurant opened and a stream of bright light pooled into the room from the outside, nearly brightening the space more than what the large paned windows along the from wall allowed. In stepped a young man, his hesitation obvious as he stepped over the threshold and his blue eyes scanned his surroundings. He wore a military uniform that was ironed to perfection, donned in two well dressed medals on his left breast, and he took off his matching cap when he stepped inside, offering a stiff nod in greeting to the bartender.

Passchendaele Daniel

Age 22

He was the first to arrive and he made his way over to the reserved table in the corner, sitting on the chair closest to the door. Habit. Made for an easy getaway if it was ever needed. He held his hands together on his lap, back straight, and his flat expression starting to fall into space.

The restaurant stayed silent. The bartender kept to himself and the few other patrons sat on the far side of the room, minding their own business.

The door opened again and a voice fell inside along with another pool of light.

“She’s a one-year-old, Jack, give her a cookie and sing her a song and she’ll go right to sleep. Ask the other two for help; they’re great with her. I can’t come back now, my meeting has barely even started. I’ll be an hour, tops. I think you can survive that long.”

The slightly older man who just came in had his cellphone pressed to his ear and closed the door calmly behind him. He looked a bit flustered and definitely tired; his dyed blonde hair was faded to mostly its natural brown tones again and he shoved his car keys in his pocket messily as he listened to whatever his friend was saying through the line.

Anything But Mine Daniel

Age 25

His blue eyes landed on the young man already at the table and he paused in spot for a moment before saying much quieter into his cell phone, “I gotta go. I’ll call you after.”

He hung the phone and headed slowly over to the table, holding out his hand to the man in front of him.

“Hey. Nice to meet you. I’m Daniel.”

Passchendaele Daniel glanced up at him and then to his out stretched hand and pulled a tight smile before taking his handshake, “Myself as well.”

They shared soft smiles as Anything But Mine Daniel sat down in the chair on his other side. They fell into a momentary silence, not quite knowing what to say at first. It was a strange situation to be in: staring at yourself from another universe and entirely different timeline.

Gentle music filled the restaurant and the two young men glanced across the room to the jukebox. A third stood in front of it, having just slid in a quarter to select a record, and the gentle voice of Elvis brought liveliness to the restaurant. He turned with a pleasant smile, his hair slicked back in a soft wave, and startled slightly by the older two staring back at him.

Heartbreak Hotel Daniel

Age 18

He offered them a crooked smile and headed over to join them, “Hi.”

They shared their introductions – being easy since they all shared the same name and nearly the same face – and Heartbreak Hotel Daniel took his spot across from Anything But Mine Daniel. He glanced over at the man in his old military uniform beside the oldest but looked away against before he could be caught staring. He adjusted the collar of his button-up shirt and dropped his shy gaze to the wood table top.

“What desserts do you offer here?”

The three men all looked towards the bar where another was stood on the bottom brass foot rest of the bar counter to stand higher, holding himself up on the marble top as he spoke to the bartender. He wore a Georgian style suit, dressed poshly down to the puffed tie in the collar of his pale blue jacket and shiny black shoes, his soft brown hair brushed pristinely over his forehead.

Amoureux Daniel

Age 17

The bartender eyed the young prince for a moment and then simply gestured to the menu hung on the brick wall behind him.

“I’ll just take the lot of it.”

He slid a few paper bills across the counter before heading over to the reserved table. His smile was wide and infectious and he offered firm handshakes around the table.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Prince Daniel of York. Second in line to the British throne.”

“Royalty at our table? That’s unbelievable.” ABM Daniel gaped, eyeing the youngest’s clothes as he plopped himself down in the free chair across from Passchendaele Daniel.

“Forget Royalty. I’m going to be a composer.” Amoureux Daniel tisked as he leaned back and loosened his tie around his neck to let himself breathe before rolling up his sleeves too.

“A composer? I’m in music professionally. What do you play? Piano?” ABM Daniel asked.

“Piano and cello. Piano’s my favourite though.” Amoureux Daniel grinned.

“Mine as well.” Passchendaele Daniel smiled shyly.

“You as well? Oh, splendid.” Amoureux Daniel clapped excitedly. “I was worried you lot would be as lame as my older brother honestly.”

Passchendaele Daniel’s smile fell as fast as it was formed and he dropped his head down. The other three easily saw this change and the youngest two from across the table habitually looked the eldest for guidance. ABM Daniel’s eyes were wide with surprise and he set a gentle hand on Passchendaele Daniel’s shoulder.

He spoke softly, “Are you okay?”

“I…” Passchendaele Daniel took a moment to compose himself before looking up into the friendly eyes of his older counterpart, “I lost my brother in the war. He was my best friend.”

“Shit.” Amoureux Daniel breathed from across from him.

Heartbreak Hotel Daniel slowly pressed his hand to his mouth in shock.

ABM Daniel hesitated a moment but gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze, “I’m really sorry.”

Passchendaele Daniel only shrugged lightly, “It is what it is, I suppose.”

“What war were you in? The First World War or the Second?” Heartbreak Hotel Daniel asked as gently as he could around the obviously traumatised man.

Passchendaele Daniel’s eyes went wide in fear suddenly and he looked between the other three guys, “There is a second?!”

“I didn’t even know there was one in the first place.” Amoureux Daniel said in defence as he reached for one of the desserts before the bartender could even set the plate down at their table.

ABM Daniel and HH Daniel exchanged wide eyed glances before looking back at the frightened soldier. ABM Daniel rubbed his hand over his back soothingly, offering the best reassurance he could, “Not in your time, don’t worry. But I think we need a new topic to talk about now.”

“Please.” Passchendaele Daniel mumbled thankfully.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a fifth one of us here too?” HH Daniel asked.

“I thought so too.” ABM Daniel pulled out his cell phone to check the time.

“What is that?” the other three young men asked him at the same time.

ABM Daniel glanced up at them and looked between their mirrored confused expressions like he was sitting at a table with triplets. Different brunette hair styles and different clothing but all with the same light blue eyes and youthful faces. He looked back down at his iPhone and held it up slightly, “This?”

They all nodded.

“It’s my cell phone.”

“It’s a telephone? Where’s the chord?” HH Daniel asked, leaning over the table to lift it up as if to look for the chord that should have somehow attached him to the wall.

“Where is the handset?” Passchendaele Daniel added. “If there is no handset, how do you hear your friends?”

“I have no bloody clue what the hell any of you are talking about.” Amoureux Daniel laughed through a mouthful of cake.

ABM Daniel smiled and looked between the other three, “I guess that’s right since you are all from the past, huh? Well in my time they make telephones that can go in your pocket. They don’t need chords.”

“That’s brilliant.” Passchendaele Daniel breathed. “And you can talk to your friends into that little box?”

“Yeah. Wanna hold it?” ABM Daniel offered.

HH Daniel leaned over the table to get a look as Passchendaele Daniel carefully took the iPhone from ABM Daniel and cradled it in his two hands like it would break if the wind blew too hard. The screen lit up as a text message came through and Passchendaele Daniel gasped in surprise, staring down at the lit-up screen and the little box that read words.

ABM Daniel reached over to swipe away the notification, revealing his lockscreen wallpaper: a photograph of his family from the day his youngest was born, all cuddled up together on the couch.

“Is that your family?” HH Daniel asked, still leaning over the table.

“Yeah. It is.” ABM Daniel smiled widely, taking his phone to set it on the table for all of them to see, “That’s my wife, Florence, and our girls; Clementine, Penelope, and Lucy.”

“That’s so sweet.” Amoureux Daniel said, “I just had a son a few months back.”

“You have a child?” HH Daniel gaped over at him. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“You have a kid at seventeen?”

“Yes. Ran off and got married young. He’s just born so no need to have a fit.” Amoureux Daniel snickered teasingly. He picked up the plate of desserts and held it out to him. HH Daniel stared down at the desserts for a beat but then shook his head politely.

“My wife is expecting our first child.” Passchendaele Daniel spoke gently.

“Oh, congratulations!” ABM Daniel said, helping himself to a dessert from the spread.

“Yes, thank you.” Passchendaele Daniel mumbled. “I am a bit frightened; I must admit.”

“Parenthood is a scary thing but it’s also the most amazing thing you could ever experience.” ABM Daniel assured him as he slid his phone back into his pocket. “I am sure you will be a great dad.”

Before anyone else could speak, loud muffled music could be heard from outside the restaurant and they all turned to looked out the large front windows; watching as a shiny white Tesla pulled up to the curb. The music cut off as the drivers side door opened and their fifth guest stepped out. His hair was dyed blonde and hair sprayed to messy perfection and the sunglasses perched on his nose were designer, his whole outfit dripping in expensive pieces, down to his leather pants and black boots and silver chain hung around his neck.

He came inside the restaurant and everyone’s eyes were on him – even the bar tender – as he slid off his sunglasses and offered a cool smile to the room.

Qui Totum Vult Totum Perdit Daniel

Age 23

He caught the glance of the other four young men at the table in the corner and he sauntered over to greet them. He offered a handshake to all of them before sitting at the far head of the table, “Sorry I’m so late. Promo ran later than expected.”

He glanced around the table at the four pairs of wide blue eyes staring back at him. There was a beat of silence.

“Wow, this is sick. It’s like I’m looking in four mirrors.” QTVTP Daniel chuckled. He set his sunglasses on the table. The other four pairs of eyes followed the action but they didn’t speak. “You’re right. Need to at least make up for my lateness. Hey, bartender?”

The man looked over to the table as QTVTP Daniel raised his hand up to get his attention, “Pitcher of water, round of beers, and let’s get some appetizers? Give us your top…six sellers. All on my card.”

“You don’t have to pay for all of us.” ABM Daniel said.

“Let me. It’s the least I could do. You come all the way out here to this shabby hotel and I’m thirty minutes late.”

The bartender brought over the pitcher of water, five glasses, and five bottles of beer, setting them all on the table. QTVTP Daniel took out his OffWhite wallet and pulled out his credit card, passing it over to the man with a smooth thanks.

“Let’s drink, boys.” he smiled, rubbing his hands together before reaching for one of the bottles.

“I’m not of age.” HH Daniel mumbled.

“Neither am I.” Amoureux Daniel added.

“I don’t drink anymore.” Passchendaele Daniel said.

“I have to pick up my daughters after this so no alcohol for me either, thanks.” ABM Daniel finished.

QTVTP Daniel looked between the four sitting around him, “Wow. Alright. More for me then.”

ABM Daniel took the initiative to pour the others their glasses of water as he offered a casual question to the late arrival, “What promo were you at?”

“For my record company.”

All four heads snapped back up to look at him.

“You work at a record company?” HH Daniel gaped.

“Own it. Yeah.” QTVTP Daniel chuckled. “My best friend and I have owned our own company for the last…two or so years? We’ve travelled the world together. Made some music. Made a name for ourselves. It’s amazing.”

“Wow. It’s always been my dream to be a signed artist but my parents convinced me to go to university instead.” ABM Daniel said.

“It’s pretty sick.” QTVTP Daniel smirked. “You meet a lot of cool people.”

“Are you well known?” Amoureux Daniel asked. “Do you work with people such as Bach? Or Mozart?”

“Bach or Mozart? Nah. Not yet at least. But we just signed a band that dropped their second album and it went number one worldwide.”

“Good God.” HH Daniel gasped. “You’re like Elvis.”

“I guess.” QTVTP Daniel laughed lightly, taking a sip of his drink as he leaned back in his chair.

“Do you produce too?” ABM Daniel asked.

“Yeah. We do most of the producing but we write and manage too. I have an eye for the industry.”

“That’s so cool. I’m working at a production studio myself. I’d love to run some demos by you…get your professional opinion…bounce some ideas around.”

“Yeah, for sure, bro! That’d be awesome. We can do that later.”

The other three young men stayed in momentary silence, sipping their water with Amoureux Daniel nursing the plate of desserts. He glanced over at HH Daniel on his right, staring at him for a moment, especially the remanence of a bruise that was colouring just under his left eye.

“Did you get in a fight?” Amoureux Daniel asked bluntly.

HH Daniel looked over at him, watching the youngest bite into a truffle, “Yeah. Corbyn beat me up.”

That caught the table’s attention and they all looked at him in surprise.

“Corbyn hit you?” ABM Daniel gaped.

“Mhm.” HH Daniel nodded shyly. “I was trying to stick up for my soulmate and he didn’t like that I was trying to take her from him so he beat me up.”

He stood up and lifted up the bottom of his shirt to show off the fading bruise over his stomach as well. The men groaned pitifully at how obviously it must have hurt.

“My Corbyn is so nice.” Passchendaele Daniel frowned.

“Mine too.” ABM Daniel added.

“Mine’s kind of lame. Everyone in my life is lame.” Amoureux Daniel tisked.

“What? You think you’re better than everyone?” QTVTP Daniel chuckled, taking a sip from his glass bottle.

“Not necessarily. I just don’t want to have to live the same boring life that they think I need to.”

“I’ll drink to that.” QTVTP Daniel agreed.

“Here, here.” Passchendaele Daniel raised his water cup and they all held out their glasses into the middle of the table to cheers through soft laughter.

Their conversation paused a moment as they drank. HH Daniel shifted in his seat slightly, tossing back the rest of his glass of water is he had been deprived for days and set the empty glass back on the table with a loud clunk. QTVTP Daniel slid over a bottle of beer and none of them spoke as they watched him unscrew the cap and take a long sip. The eighteen-year-old grimaced through the drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You’re really going through it, bro.” QTVTP Daniel stated.

“Yeah, I suppose.” HH Daniel grumbled, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Well obviously since he got punched in the face.” Amoureux Daniel added.

“I just…” HH Daniel sighed, staring at the table top, “We have soulmates in my universe and even though I found mine…she doesn’t want me so I’m suck tasting everything she tastes and it being a constant brutal reminder of her.”

“Why doesn’t she want you?” ABM Daniel frowned.

“I’m a loser? Hell if I know.” HH Daniel scoffed, he took another long sip of the beer no matter how disgusting he thought it tasted. At least it overpowered the taste of tea that was grazing his tongue.

“There’s a girl you’re in love with who has a trashy boyfriend? Well, take it from me who has literally been in your shoes,” ABM Daniel reached across the table to grab the beer from the eighteen-year-old, “You get nowhere from drinking away the pain or hating yourself.”

“You had this happen too?” HH Daniel asked softly, hopefully.

“Yeah; was best friends with this girl I was hopelessly in love with and I had to see her go from boyfriend to boyfriend no matter how often I was there for her.”

“So what happened?”

“She became my wife eventually.” ABM Daniel smiled softly, “Just give it time. Don’t push her because she’ll just feel suffocated. Let her come to you. She’ll see what she’s missing.”

Amoureux Daniel held out the half empty plate of desserts to HH Daniel and he finally took a small pastry as the youngest said, “In addition, you are in a universe where you can taste what she tastes and, from my experience, the way to a woman’s heart – and up her skirt – is through her stomach.”

Passchendaele Daniel choked on his water while laughter rose over the rest of the table.

“What do you know about ‘going up skirts’? You’re, like, barely fifteen.” QTVTP Daniel scoffed through his disbelieving laughter.

“I am seventeen, thank you very much, and I have a baby.” Amoureux Daniel corrected, nearly boastfully. “I know just plenty about going up skirts.”

Of course, that was right when the bartender came over with their food and his confused expression had the five young men smothering back their nervous laughter. ABM Daniel and Passchendaele Daniel cleared a space on the table for the food to be set down and all five of them thanked the man before he headed back behind the bar. With a full spread in front of them, they all dug in and piled up a small plate each to start to eat. It was quiet for a moment as they got settled and started to eat, passing the salt and pepper and various plates to each other when asked. It was comfortable.

“So,” ABM Daniel broke their silence first, directing his question to Amoureux Daniel, “how did you and your wife meet?”

Amoureux Daniel cracked a cheeky smile, “Well, she came to England to marry my older brother, but she liked me better, to be blunt. We would sneak around the castle and a few times at night…you know…”

There were two ‘oo’s from ABM Daniel and QTVTP Daniel, while Passchendaele Daniel looked between them all with wide eyes.

“You…You were involved with her before you were married?” he stammered.

“While she was engaged to my brother too.” Amoureux Daniel hid his smirk behind a bite of a mozzarella stick. “My most thrilling and incredible few months, I must say.”

“Oh my gosh.” Passchendaele Daniel’s cheeks flushed a slight pink and he tugged at the collar of his uniform. “That’s…ahem…”

“Did you not go near your wife before your wedding night?” Amoureux Daniel asked bluntly.

“Let’s not go nosing into everyone’s private business.” ABM Daniel said strongly.

“Wait, I’m still confused. Where did you sneak off to?” HH Daniel asked shyly.

The table chuckled lightly – even Passchendaele Daniel cracked a nervous smile – and HH Daniel looked between all of them, waiting for an answer.

“To bed.” Amoureux Daniel laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “You’ll understand one day.”

“I…you…I-I understand perfectly well.” HH Daniel blushed furiously, turning quickly down to his plate and shoveled a nacho in his mouth to avoid continuing the conversation.

“To answer your question,” Passchendaele Daniel continued, trying to keep himself a bit brave and a bit interesting to the four other men, “No, I did not go to bed with Elizabeth until our wedding night. It did not feel right to deflower her until our union was official.”

“Deflower her.” QTVTP Daniel repeated slowly, biting back his smile as he took a sip of his beer.

“Well that’s what it is, is it not?” Passchendaele Daniel said sternly, narrowing his eyes at him. “I like to think that making love is the most sacred act and shouldn’t be just thrown around to anyone.”

“I agree.” HH Daniel mumbled, earning a thankful smile from the soldier.

“Jeez, then I’m quite the sinner.” QTVTP Daniel chuckled to himself. “I slept with my girlfriend on our first date.”

Passchendaele Daniel huffed softly and turned down to his plate. Amoureux Daniel and HH Daniel glanced at each other through the awkward tension that seemed to settle.

ABM Daniel cleared his throat, “Let’s maybe change the topic. This isn’t really lunch appropriate.”

“Wow…you are such a dad.” QTVTP Daniel snorted, shaking his head in near disbelief.

“What’s wrong with that?” ABM Daniel frowned at him. He couldn’t get much of an argument out before his phone was ringing in his pocket and he pulled it out, sighing when he read the caller ID, “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

The other four watched him get up from the table and head across the restaurant as he answered the call,

“What is it now, Jack?”

The table fell into a momentary silence.

Passchendaele Daniel broke it first with a mumble of, “Jack in my universe is dead.”

The other three looked between themselves nervously. They didn’t answer, ducking their heads down to their plates to focus on eating their lunches. No one spoke until ABM Daniel returned and he sat back down with a heavy exhale.

“Sorry, being a dad is a job that is never done. What did I miss?”

Amoureux Daniel, HH Daniel, and QTVTP Daniel just looked at him and shook their heads ever so slightly. Passchendaele Daniel sniffled, keeping his head down, and took a sip of his water.

“Everything alright back home?” HH Daniel asked softly over to ABM Daniel.

“Oh, yeah. My youngest just hates when I’m not within arm’s reach so she’s been giving Jack some trouble. She’s only one so…doesn’t know much better.” ABM Daniel smiled at only the mention of his daughters. “I have pictures…if you want to see.”

“Of course.” HH Daniel beamed.

ABM Daniel took out his phone again and opened up his photos app to swipe through a few and he passed the phone across the table. Amoureux Daniel and HH Daniel shifted closer together to see and QTVTP Daniel leaned over the side of the table to look at the pictures too. QTVTP Daniel took control of the swiping since he was the only one who knew how cell phones worked and they all smiled at the pictures on the screen, ‘awe’ing at the cutest ones.

“The baby looks just like you.” HH Daniel said. “Well…like us, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” ABM Daniel chuckled. “I get that a lot.”

Passchendaele Daniel stayed quiet on his right, eating in silence, and unbothered. He sat as if he didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself. ABM Daniel looked over at him as the other three kept scrolling through his pictures and he reached a hand onto the table to gently get his attention. Passchendaele Daniel looked up at him with a flat expression and almost tearful eyes.

“Are you alright?” ABM Daniel asked softly.

“I don’t do well without my Elizabeth.” Passchendaele Daniel whispered for only him to hear. ABM Daniel was always the best listener and the easiest to talk to and it was obvious to the struggling soldier that he was someone he could trust.

“Do you have a picture of her?” ABM Daniel offered, as some way to keep his mind busy but happy.

A small smile perked at the side of Passchendaele Daniel’s lips and he nodded, reaching into his uniform jacket and he pulled out a small sepia photograph and held it out to his new acquaintance. ABM Daniel smiled thankfully at him and took the photograph, looking down at the old fashion photograph of the gentle young blonde woman.

“She’s beautiful.” ABM Daniel said politely.

“She is. I’m the luckiest man in the whole world to have her. She saves my life every day.” Passchendaele Daniel breathed, his gentle smile grazing his lips ever so delicately as if he was in deep thought.

Three teasing exclaims from across the table caught their attention and ABM Daniel quickly reached over to snatch his phone back. The picture they had swiped to was of Florence in nothing but a small towel blow-drying her hair in the bathroom mirror; a simple moment that ABM Daniel couldn’t help but capture with her in all her natural beauty.

“No more of that.” he blushed furiously as he pocketed his phone again.

Passchendaele Daniel offered his photograph of Elizabeth to the table and the three young men on the other side gladly took it. She was effortlessly beautiful and the three youngest at the table stared at her for a bit longer than was honestly necessary. Passchendaele Daniel bit back a proud grin at their obvious interest.

“I don’t have a photograph of Loretta.” HH Daniel mumbled. “If I did, that would be considered extremely creepy on my part.”

The photograph was passed back to Passchendaele Daniel who pocketed it again and HH Daniel reached to grab another serving from the platters in the middle of the table. A small corner of paper poking out under the dish caught his attention and he wiped his hand on his jeans before pulling it out from under the plate. His eyes went wide at the photograph of Loretta that stared back at him from his hand.

“What’s that?” Amoureux Daniel asked, leaning over his shoulder to take a look.

Surprised, HH Daniel couldn’t find his words for a moment, “I-It’s Loretta.”

The Lotus Inn works in almost magical ways through this ripple in the time space continuum. HH Daniel pulled the picture closer, his heart only aching slightly at simply the sight of her.

“She is hot.” QTVTP Daniel broke the momentary silence.

The four other Daniel’s glared at his bluntness and he put his hands up in defence as he sat back in his chair.

“You can’t have her so don’t even try.” HH Daniel scolded softly before turning back to the photograph.

“I don’t want her. I have my own girlfriend.”

HH Daniel glared warningly at him as he passed the photograph across the table to ABM Daniel and Passchendaele Daniel to take a look at too.

Amoureux Daniel shifted in his chair and reached into his pocket, sure enough to pull out his own picture of Louisa and their brand-new baby son. He stayed perfectly quiet for a moment as he stared at the image himself, disbelieving.

“Oh wow.” he breathed. “It looks so real.”

HH Daniel looked over his shoulder and smiled at the sweet photograph of the young mother holding her baby, “That’s adorable.”

Amoureux Daniel smiled over at him, “That’s my Louisa. And our little prince.”

“Let’s see!” ABM Daniel excitedly held his hand out to take a look at the photograph.

QTVTP Daniel and Passchendaele Daniel glanced over his shoulder with mirrored smiles.

“Damn,” QTVTP Daniel said as he sat down again, “Glad to know we have taste.”

Their pictures were passed around and stories were shared – QTVTP Daniel offering up his phone to show off pictures of his girlfriend and he shared his excited plans to propose to her.

The five young men seemed to find their comfort with each other. Laughter soon filled their table between words of advice and guidance and comfort and soon the food was gone and the drinks were finished and they were all resting back in their chairs through their conversation.

“Is your hair naturally that colour?” Amoureux Daniel asked QTVTP Daniel.

QTVTP Daniel habitually ran his hand through it, fluffing it up a little at the sides, “No, it’s dyed. I kinda like it like this though so I might keep it.”

“It looks cool. Maybe I should go blonde too. Loretta seems to like blondes better anyway.” HH Daniel said.

“No!” The other three at the table said quickly.

HH Daniel looked between all of them in confusion, “Why not?”

“Florence cried her eyes out when I went blonde.” ABM Daniel said. “I swear she was ready to divorce me. It’s not worth it.”

“You look just fine the way you are.” Passchendaele Daniel agreed. “Don’t change just because her boyfriend looks a certain way.”

“Yeah. You’ll regret that.” ABM Daniel nodded.

“I dunno. I don’t regret it.” QTVTP Daniel said coolly.

“You’re not helping.” ABM Daniel snapped lightly, making the rest of the table laugh.

A momentary silence fell over the group, all of them staring into space with content smiles and full stomachs, most topics of conversation well used. The bartender came over to clear the empty plates and they all thanked him once more. ABM Daniel took out his phone to check the time again.

“Well, it’s been over an hour. Maybe we should say our goodbyes. I have little ones to pick up.”

“Yeah.” HH Daniel sighed, setting his napkin back on the tabletop. “I have to pack for college.”

“I have a meeting...” QTVTP checked his watch, “5 minutes ago. Shit. Jonah’s gonna kill me.”

He got up quickly from the table and put his sunglasses back on before taking one last sip of his beer. They all stood up after him and started to gather their things to go.

“Can we take a selfie before we leave?” ABM Daniel offered.

“A what?” HH Daniel laughed.

“A selfie.” Amoureux Daniel breathed. “That’s a ridiculous word.”

“A picture of yourself.” QTVTP Daniel explained.

“Yeah! Come over here.” ABM Daniel took out his phone again and opened up the camera.

“You can take photographs on your telephone? Incredible…” Passcehndaele Daniel breathed as the group gathered behind ABM Daniel and they all leaned in close.

The picture was taken, framing five exact smiles, five exact pairs of light blue eyes, and yet five slightly different hair styles and fashion choices. All their own individual but yet all one in the same.

They shared handshakes that turned into friendly embraces with pats on the back, well wishes, and final goodbyes as they headed their own ways home to once again be seperated by the division of space and time between alternate universes.

ABM Daniel lingered back in the restaurant for a moment, grazing his finger over the table he stood beside with a calm smile. He approached the bartender and ordered a plate of desserts to go – he didn’t get much since Amoureux Daniel seemed to hog them all for himself – and he wanted to bring home his girls a treat. He paid for the cakes and thanked the bar tender before heading out of the restaurant and into the bright sunlit street. His car was parked farther down and he waited in the drivers seat for Florence.

She came quickly out of the Lotus Inn as well, the heavy wind blowing urging her to hold her jacket closed as she rushed down the sidewalk, her dark blonde hair billowing around her head messily and she helped herself into the passenger seat of their car. With the door closed and the wind kept out, she sighed deeply with a content smile and smoothed her messy hair down.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

They both leaned in for a quick kiss.

“How was lunch?” she asked.

ABM Daniel thought for a moment as he took the car out of park and pulled out onto the street, “It was strange at first but really nice. How was yours?”

“Super fun.” Florence giggled.

“Great! Oh! We took a selfie. I wanted to show you how similar we all looked.” Daniel pulled his phone from his pocket and blindly passed it over to her as he drove through the streets of their city.

Florence took it and typed in his passcode with an excited smile. She opened up his pictures and tapped the most recent one, her smile falling, “Dani, this is only a picture of you.”

“I know!” Daniel laughed. “We looked like quintuplets or something!”

“No…I mean you are the only person in this picture.”

Daniel stopped the car at a red light and glanced over at his phone in her hand. His smile fell as well as he stared at the selfie he had taken before they all parted ways, only his own face captured in the frame, his four new friends missing as if they never existed in the first place.

#anything but mine #🍓#✉#👑#🔪#daniel seavey #daniel seavey x5 #LOL #why dont we #wdw #why dont we fanfic #au #lotus inn #daniel seavey fanfic #btw i typed 'daniel' 207 times

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