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spicycreativity · 3 years

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Flufftober Day 1 - Winning a Tedddy Bear for the Other

This is the only October prompt fic I was able to write, so uh. Hopefully you enjoy it!

2.5k words, pairings are pre-Logince, Dukexiety, and pre-Moceit

Nobody actually wins a teddy bear for anyone, despite their best efforts

Truly have no idea if this is solely an American hick town thing or not, but where I'm from, all the summer drama took place at the county fair; the hook-ups and break-ups and all the stuff that people would gossip about at the beginning of the school year. Except! The crew have just graduated and this is kind of their last hurrah before college and work and what have you.

Roman closed his eyes and tried to focus. He turned the basketball over in his hands, privately grossed out by the weird, sticky texture beneath his fingertips. He let the ambient noise of the county fair fade into the background. Focus. He just had to focus.

Then Virgil's voice shattered his concentration: "You know this game is rigged, right?"

Roman opened his eyes and, catching an annoyed glance from the carnival worker, sighed and hurled the ball at the hoop. It soared a neat arc and fell neatly through the center of the hoop. Ha. "I'll have you know I played basketball in middle school." He puffed out his chest a little and raised his arms so Virgil could admire his killer delts.

"And how old are you now?" Virgil leaned into Remus, who was lurking over his shoulder like some kind of lanky cathedral goblin. How Remus had landed a boyfriend before he did, Roman would never know.

The worker handed Roman another ball, which Roman accepted with a half-hearted "Thanks."

"It's true, though," Remus said, placing his chin on Virgil's shoulder. "The hoops are ovals."

"Everybody knows that," Roman huffed, and threw the ball.

"Yeet!" said Remus. Idiot.

The ball bounced off the rim. "You distracted me!" Roman huffed. The carnival worker held out another ball, but Roman dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Oh, forget it!" Two baskets would only get him a stupid Minions keychain, and he definitely didn't want something that cursed in his possession. He turned and walked away, half-hoping Remus and Virgil wouldn't follow him.

"Dude, you paid for three tries," Virgil said.

Roman stopped and turned around and nearly got trampled by a herd of excited pre-teens. "You don't get it!" He gestured at Virgil and Remus' intertwined fingers, even now unable to fight back the wave of jealousy and longing that rose up inside him. "You guys already have your fairy--" He paused, corrected himself. "Your weird, creepy, Tim Burton fairytale dream. I have one shot to impress Logan tonight and I need to make the most of it!"

"Hold on, hold on, hold on!" Remus grabbed Roman by the wrist (ewww, Roman, just try not to think about where his hands have been) and dragged him over to a bench. "Your grand plan is to win Logan some lame carnival prize before he even gets here?"

"Oh, buddy." The mocking pity on Virgil's face was enough to make Roman blush. Jerk. All he'd had to do was sit around and wait for Remus to make the first move. "What makes you think that's even going to work?"

Roman stood up again, motioning for Virgil and Remus to stay seated. He'd had enough. "Because it's a grand, romantic gesture and I am a grand, romantic prince. Now leave me alone! You're wrecking my concentration and I'm supposed to meet Logan in an hour!" And he stalked off, soon getting lost in the crowd.

Virgil looked at Remus, who was wearing a look of undisguised masochistic glee. Still, Virgil ventured, more to soothe his own conscience than anything, "Should we try to help him?"

"Look!" Remus shot to his feet, pointing off into the distance. "Deep fried pickles!" He took off, nearly jerking Virgil's shoulder out of socket.

Virgil dodged an elderly woman and nearly tripped over his boots. "Roman?"

"No, I'm Remus."

"No, I mean, should we try-- Oh, forget it." Virgil wrapped his free hand around the back of Remus' and let Remus yank him through the crowd. There was a long line for the cart selling deep fried monstrosities because this was the county fair and people lost their humanity upon stepping through the gates. Not Virgil. He would sooner lick the door of the horse barn than consume anything from this horrorshow of a food cart. That was one thing Virgil and Roman could agree on: fair food was disgusting. Ah, poor Roman. "You do have to feel a little sorry for him, though," Virgil said, admiring the shiny piercings decorating the shell of Remus' ear.

"Who?" said Remus, standing on tiptoe and examining the crowd.

"Ro--"

"Oh, Roman?" Remus landed hard on his heels and nudged Virgil with his hip. "No I don't. A little heartbreak might take Sir Brags-a-Lot down a peg." Something caught his eye and he jerked his head away with a smile. "Hey. V. I'd like to dip my pickle in your deep fryer."

Virgil made a face, but soldiered on. "But he's had a crush on Logan since, what? As long as I've known him."

"Longer." Remus stuck out his tongue. "He and Logan were lab partners Freshman year. And I had to hear about him every single night." He lowered his voice into a passable imitation of Roman's, gesticulating with abandon. "'Ugh, Remus, this boy in my science class is so annoying; he knows about dumb shit like protons and covalent bonds. Who even cares about that? I don't. So I'm gonna keep talking about it for the entire bus ride home.' Nightmare."

"Exactly!" said Virgil, though he had kind of forgotten what he was getting at. What had he been getting at? He shuffled forward as the line moved and turned his fractured attention to the menu.

"Hey," said Remus, now drumming on Virgil's shoulder with his fingertips. "When was the last time you saw Pat and the Hat?"

"Who?"

"Come on, that was clever."

Virgil tapped his lower lip. "You mean Patton and Janus?" Remus just blinked at him. "I dunno, didn't they say they were buying tickets?"

"Yeah, like, 30 minutes ago.

The line moved forward again. Remus ordered his horrifying hell-pickle. Virgil ordered a lemonade, knowing full well that Remus would insist on paying anyway.

"Maybe," said Virgil, side-stepping away from the order window and deliberately ignoring the way Remus was running his tongue all up and down his deep-fried pickle, "they went to the petting zoo."

"Well, let's go get 'em," Remus said. "They don't get to ditch us just because Patton wanted to see the bunny rabbits."

The setting sun painted the clouds a brilliant orange. Patton sighed and stared out at the expanse of the fairgrounds beneath him. One by one, rides were starting to turn their lights on. It was exactly the most romantic time of evening, exactly how he'd wanted things to go when he suggested they take a quick ride on the Ferris wheel before tracking down the others.

Well.

Almost exactly.

"I should sue," Janus said. Again. He looked over the edge of their basket where it dangled almost exactly at the top of the Ferris wheel. "How long would you say we've been stuck up here?"

"Um," said Patton, trying to wiggle his phone out of his pocket.

"What if I was diabetic, hm? What if one of us needed to take life-saving medication and couldn't because we were stuck at the top of this death trap?"

"But Janus." Patton waited for Janus to meet his eyes, then smiled. "We don't."

The magic didn't last. "It's the principle of the thing!" Janus said explosively, looking away in obvious agitation.

Patton rallied and tried again. "You don't think it's kinda romantic? I mean, look out there." He gestured at the lit-up fairgrounds and the golden haloes of clouds.

Janus huffed and didn't look. "I don't see what's so romantic about a potential reckless endangerment lawsuit." And he was off again, ranting about confusing legal concepts and other things Patton wouldn't care about, except that they were important to Janus.

Oh, well. He sighed and watched the blinking lights of El Niño. If they got down soon, maybe he could win Janus a teddy bear or something and make his confession then.

"What color?"

Roman ran a hand through his hair. Of all the games to have a knack for, he hadn't expected darts. "Pink, I guess-- No, wait, the blue one."

The attendant nodded and handed Roman a flimsy acoustic guitar. "Congrats, man."

"Thanks." Roman turned to go. He had to meet Logan at the gates soon. At least he wasn't doing it empty-handed, not that a barely-playable guitar was a particularly romantic gift. Realy, who was he kidding? Logan didn't want the guitar and Logan didn't want him.

The fairground lights lit everything up a sickly green. Roman scanned the crowd at the midway, trying to determine the best way through, when his gaze fell on a familiar pair of glasses.

He was still trying to decide how to react when Logan reached him, his arms full of brightly-colored stuffed lemurs. "Hello, Roman."

"How long have you been here?" Roman demanded. The idea that Logan had been sneaking around, avoiding him, sat heavy in his stomach.

But to Roman's surprise, Logan blushed. "Not long," he said, shifting his weight. "I wanted-- Well, it seems foolish now."

Roman forgot his anger in an instant. "What? C'mon, Lo, I don't think you're even capable of being foolish."

"I had thought," Logan dropped his gaze to the stuffed lemurs in his arms, "I had thought that if I came early, I might be able to win something big and--" He cleared his throat. "And give it to you."

"Why?" Roman demanded. Why would Logan copy his plan?

"Well, Roman," Logan said in such a clipped, professional voice that he might have been delivering the weather report, "traditionally, winning a large prize for your sweetheart at the county fair is a romantic gesture."

"But I'm not your sw-- Oh." Roman's jaw dropped. The guitar's strings dug into his fingers. Then he started to laugh. Logan's expression hardened, but he stayed put, staring intently at Roman. "I'm sorry!" Roman choked out, brandishing the guitar at Logan as some sort of peace offering, though Logan didn't have a free hand to take it. "I was--" Tears streamed hot and ticklish down Roman's cheeks, his entire body still spasming with stifled laughs. "I was trying to do the same thing! That's how I got this stupid guitar."

"Oh," said Logan. "Oh, dear."

"Come on, let's sort this out." Roman stood on his tiptoes, spotted an empty bench, and led Logan to it.

"This is terribly awkward," Logan said, adjusting the lemurs in his arms. "Do you even want these?"

"Not really," Roman said. He held up the guitar. "Do you want this?"

"I don't."

They smiled at each other. "You know," said Roman, hurriedly counting Logan's stuffed lemurs. "You can trade six of those in for a kiss."

"Piercings!" Remus tugged on Virgil's sleeve and gestured at the booth.

"I thought we were looking for Patton and Janus," Virgil said, already trying to think of a way to keep Remus from getting an ill-advised piercing.

"Forget them! I wanna get my tongue done."

"Here?" Virgil asked as Remus tugged him closer and closer to the piercing booth. "We're, like, six feet away from a horse barn. You're gonna get an infection."

"Damn, V, it's not like I'm gonna French kiss the horses."

Virgil bit his lip and made a second attempt. "Don't you have enough holes punched in yourself?"

"Nope!" They reached the booth and Remus bounced on his toes while he studied the laminated photographs pinned to one of the tent walls.

"Fine, but don't expect any kisses until that piercing is fully healed," Virgil said, struck by an eleventh-hour moment of genius.

"Hold up." Remus turned around and stared at Virgil. "What?"

"You heard me." Advantage secured, Virgil relaxed a little and even managed a sneer. "No kisses until I'm 100% sure you're not gonna get blood or anything else in my mouth."

"Baaaabe." Remus wrapped his arms around Virgil's shoulders and let Virgil take some of his weight. "You're killing me! What about my self-expression?"

"You can get your tongue pierced," Virgil said, "just not at some shady horse barn-adjacent piercing booth run by a bunch of traveling randos."

"I'm an American," Remus mumbled into Virg's collarbone. "It's my God-given right to die of a horse infection because I got my tongue pierced at a-- Whatever you said."

"C'mon." Virgil stood Remus upright and took him by the hand. "I'll pay for you to get your tongue pierced at that nice place downtown. Or I'll get Janus to pay for it. Next birthday. I promise."

"Thanks, I guess," Remus muttered. He was obviously trying to pout, but his face kept cracking into a smile.

"And as for your self-expression…" Face-painting booths were a dime a dozen at the fair; you practically couldn't turn a corner without running into some kid with their face painted to look like Spider-Man. Virgil pointed to the closest one and continued to lead Remus toward it. "I'm thinking spider eyes for me, kraken for you?" Remus took a breath, but Virgil knew better. "There's no way anyone is going to paint a photorealistic dick on your face."

"Alriiiiight," Remus said. "Kraken it is."

The sun was now nearly gone over the horizon, only visible as a faint golden line. Janus had finally worn himself out and gone silent, though even in the darkness, Patton could see the annoyance smoldering in his eyes.

Oh, he was so cute. Even when he was annoyed. Which, granted, seemed to be most of them time, although some of it had to be an act. He smiled sometimes, when he thought Patton wasn't looking.

It was those secret smiles that had given Patton the courage to make this plan. He jiggled his leg and swallowed as nerves sent flutters of nausea through his belly. "Um, Janus?"

"Hm?"

"I mean," Patton started, "since we're stuck up here and everything."

"Don't remind me."

"I mean, you know, It's not all bad. If I have to be stuck at the top of a Ferris wheel, I'm glad it's with you. I… I'm glad it's us."

For a moment, Janus was silent. Then he said, in a tone of suspicion: "You're trying to cheer me up."

Patton sighed. As smart as Janus was, he just didn't seem to be putting the pieces together. Although, that was as much Patton's fault as it was Janus'. Well, it was mostly Patton's fault. He just had to be brave. "Look, Janus, I had this whole plan where we were gonna ride the Ferris wheel together and it was gonna pause at the top and while we were looking out over the fairground, I--" His breath hitched.

"...Was going to push me over the edge?" Janus asked.

"I was gonna do this." Rainbow lights from the Ferris wheel spokes danced across Janus' face. Patton leaned over and took his hands. "Janus, I really like you. And I want--"

"Yes," said Janus. "Whatever you're about to say, yes."

So Patton kissed him.

#queuing this for later today as well #i truly have no idea when you people are online #spicypost #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #moceit #logince #dukexiety #spicywrites

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noona-clock · 3 years

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The Dog Walker

Genre: Dog Walker!AU

Pairing: Hanbin x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,022

You gasped softly when you glanced at your watch and saw what time it was.

If you had waited even a few seconds longer, you would have missed it.

But, as it was, you still had some time. So, you leaped out of your chair and dashed to the window in the front room of your townhouse, using two fingers to widen the slot between the blinds as inconspicuously as you could.

Your gaze shifted as far down the sidewalk as your window would allow, and when you saw the small, brown dog rounding the corner, your stomach flipped over itself.

Because the small, brown dog meant that he would follow.

And, sure enough, barely a second after you saw the dog -- whom you had named Teddy in your mind since he looked like a little teddy bear -- there he was.

You had no idea who he was. You didn’t know a name, an age, a location, a personality -- nothing. The only things you knew about this guy were that he was a dog walker, he took the same route every day, and he was somehow incredibly cute and incredibly handsome at the same time.

His dark hair that fell over his forehead just right. His slightly rounded cheeks that were just so pinchable. His square jawline and chin that added the perfect touch of sexiness to his face. His full lips that screamed to be kissed (not that you would kiss him because you didn’t know him, but boy did you imagine it). His straight nose that fit perfectly amongst his features.

And his eyes.

Oh my lord, those eyes.

They were never focused directly on you, of course, but you had caught enough glimpses of them to know that if they ever were... you would most likely faint on the spot.

But it wasn’t just his face that made him so captivating and alluring. The way he dressed was so effortless but so cool. And the way he walked kind of made it seem like he was a bumbling idiot but also like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Plus, as he’d passed your window one day, you’d heard him talking to the dog he was walking and it had almost made your heart beat right out of your chest.

It had sounded like he’d been having a full-on conversation with Teddy, and his tone of voice had been just about the cutest thing you’d ever heard.

If you ever did meet this guy in real life, you weren’t sure you would survive. And if you did, you certainly would never see or talk to him again because you would undoubtedly act like such a fool that he would stay as far away from you as he possibly could.

So... best to never even meet him. Or go outside to get your mail as he walked past.

You pressed your lips together, holding your breath as the guy and Teddy approached your window. Some days, it seemed like they were both walking in slow motion and you had all the time in the world to admire your dream man. Other days, it seemed like someone had pushed the fast forward button and the whole thing was over in the blink of an eye.

Today, blessedly, was a slow motion day.

Your forehead wrinkled as he loped down the sidewalk, his stride casual but purposeful. You bit back a squeal when you saw his mouth moving, murmuring some unknown words to Teddy (or whatever the dog’s actual name was).

And your eyes followed him like your life depended on it. As if you would actually cease to exist if you stopped watching him for even a millisecond.

And then, a few moments later, just the same as every other day... he was gone. He turned the corner at the other end of your block and vanished.

It was the highlight of your day, and yes, this was all incredibly concerning and upsetting. You were fawning over a guy you had literally never met. Literally never spoken one single word to. Literally did not even know you existed! And yet your heart began to hammer when you knew he was coming, and it sank when he was no longer visible from your window.

It was kind of like he was a celebrity you fangirled over... except he was just a normal guy. A dog walker. One who presumably lived in the same town.

But he was definitely as handsome as a celebrity!

...Still, though. You knew if you ever told anyone about this daily routine of yours -- about your secret crush on a guy whose name you didn’t even know -- they would judge you. Harshly. And for a long time. Probably until you stopped spying on him as he went about his work.

So... you never told anyone. You didn’t even talk about it out loud to yourself. You didn’t write anything in your journal, either! This whole situation was something you would take to your grave.

With a soft sigh of disappointment, you let go of your blinds, turned on your heel, and shuffled back to your computer. It was right smack-dab in the middle of your work day, after all, and now that you’d had your daily fix of Cute Dog Walker Guy... it was time to come back to reality.

You know how some people get into a very specific routine but they can’t even remember how that routine came about? Like, it just sort of happened one day and then it stuck and now it seems like it’s just always been a part of their life.

That’s not how it was with your routine.

You remembered exactly how it had first happened -- every little detail. Partly because you had the memory of an elephant and were extremely observant, but also because... I mean, how could you forget the first time you saw...

Was it too dramatic to say ‘the man of your dreams’?

Maybe?

Okay, fine, I’ll just say this: How could you forget the first time you saw Cute Dog Walker Guy?

Close enough.

It had all gone down about two months ago, on a Wednesday. You had just finished a particularly long, particularly stressful project at work, and you had stepped away from your home desk for a limb stretch and a brain break. And probably a snack.

The sun had been streaming in through the blinds, and you’d had a thought to go and open them, wanting to soak up a bit of vitamin D after being cooped up inside the entire morning.

And then you’d heard the barking.

If anything could put a smile on your otherwise grouchy face, it was a cute dog. And since you were the type of person to think just about any dog was cute, you scurried over to your window and, rather than pulling on the cord to lift the blinds up, you simply peeked through two of them to see if you could spot this yippy friend.

And, sure enough, you caught him trotting around the corner just in time.

You’d thought seeing this adorably fluffy brown dog would be the highlight of your day... but then the person walking him had come into view.

Basically, you’d known instantly that you were a goner.

The day after, you’d kept an ear and an eye out for both the dog and the dog walker, and much to your surprise and gratitude, you’d been rewarded.

And again the next day, and the day after, and the day after.

At first, you’d thought the fluffy brown dog belonged to him, but there were some days when he was joined by a scruffy tan dog and other days when he was joined by a smooth gray dog -- both of them so cute you thought your heart might burst. So, you had eventually come to the conclusion that he was a dog walker.

Many times, you had been tempted to try and look him up by searching for dog walking services in your area. But, somehow, you’d resisted.

First of all, you kind of enjoyed the mystery. Second of all, you didn’t have a dog, so there was really nothing you could do with any information you found on him besides stalk him on social media.

You already spied on the guy every single day. Wasn’t that enough?

Your plan was really just to continue waiting and watching as he walked by your townhouse for as long as he chose to walk by your townhouse. If he ever decided to take a different route, then... you would just move on, I guess? Maybe try to actually meet someone you might be interested in dating?

That sounded like a pretty solid plan.

But, as we all know, life very rarely ever goes according to plan. I mean, the instant any one of us thinks we’ve come up with a pretty solid plan, The Universe simply shakes its head and laughs.

Instead of watching Cute Dog Walker Guy go past your window every day, admiring him from afar and daydreaming about your life together, wondering how much time you had left to watch and admire and daydream...

Well, I might as well just stop trying to explain and actually tell you what happened.

It was Monday. You were slightly depressed because the weekend had been far too short, and honestly, who decided that a workweek should be five days long, anyway? You’d barely caught up on your sleep over the past two days, and now you were expected to work again? For five days straight? It wasn’t at all fair, and along with being slightly depressed, you were incredibly distracted.

Really, you were sitting at your desk waiting for Cute Dog Walker Guy time rather than actually even trying to work.

But such is life!

And when the time finally arrived, you were ready. You pushed your chair away from your desk, stood up, and tiptoed over to your window with a hopeful smile tugging at your lips.

Almost immediately after you peeked through your blinds, though, you knew something was different.

Instead of hearing the jingling tags of Teddy’s collar, you heard... yelling?

“No, no, no, stop!”

...That didn’t sound good.

Your eyes darted around, trying to see what could be causing Cute Dog Walker Guy (at least, you assumed it was him) to call out like this. And when your gaze finally landed on a squirrel scampering around on the sidewalk and climbing up up a stop sign, you couldn’t help but let out an amused giggle.

Finally, Teddy turned the corner, and he was joined by a brand new dog you’d never seen before -- a dark brown brindle dog who was tugging at his leash and hunting the squirrel as if his life depended on it.

Cute Dog Walker Guy stumbled behind, his brow furrowed deeply as he continued to call out after the dog, desperately attempting to get things under control.

Attempting... and failing.

The squirrel hunter had, apparently, tuned out everything in the world around him so he could focus on his prey and was now jumping up the stop sign pole and barking.

“No, please, be quiet!” Cute Dog Walker Guy pleaded.

The squirrel then jumped from the stop sign onto the trash can at the corner, and Squirrel Hunter leaped after him.

Cute Dog Walker Guy yelped as the dog yanked him forward, both leashes getting tangled up in the stop sign and the trash can.

And then Cute Dog Walker Guy fell to the ground.

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open slightly, a soft but strangled yelp of concern emerging from your lips.

Oh, god.

What should you do?

I mean, obviously, your instinct was to run outside and help him! He was now sprawled on the ground, trying to keep hold of the two leashes while one dog was still wildly jumping and whining toward the squirrel.

But... wouldn’t that be weird?! If you just immediately showed up to help him?! He would know you’d been watching!

Although, maybe he wouldn’t care? I mean, it really looked like he needed help.

But what if --

“Owwww -- stop! Stop it!”

At hearing Cute Dog Walker Guy’s moan of pain, you fled from your window and skidded to the front door.

Part 2

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ajbwasntwriting · 3 years

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Can I pls request a Bucky x single mom reader? Maybe the kid recognizes him and they bond and then the reader comes and Bucky asks for her number? It’s okay if you don’t wanna write this! No pressure!! Have a great day ❤️❤️

As a child who was raised by a single mother this one was both a challenge and a joy to write. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. This takes place like a week before TFATWS

Bucky Barnes x single mom! Reader

Tags: Fluffiest Fluff, mild ptsd and anxiety, Oranges.

Getting used to the modern world wasn’t that much of a struggle for Bucky, but the civilian modern world was a different situation. He still felt himself looking over his shoulder as he walked. He had locks on all of his windows and a sliding bolt on his front door. He had three phones, a burner he showed his therapist, a smartphone for keeping track of the news and talking to friends, and a third one that was exclusively for communicating with Wakanda. The last of which was a mixture of conversations with Ayo and memes from Shuri.

His therapist was pushing him to make friends and to try online dating. She later told him to ‘play tourist’ and explore what his locality had to offer. Something about it possibly introducing him to new people and at the very least ‘make you more interesting’.

So every week he went to a different place. He started with the Brooklyn Museum, having gone there for field trips as a kid. It was definitely more interesting now as an adult. The next place was the Brooklyn Flea, where he managed to get a record player and some records from when he was a teenager. He smiled fondly as the old tune played through his apartment, bringing back memories of flirting with pretty girls at the soda fountain and beating up bullies with Steve (Well, FOR steve at this time)

This is what lead him to be out in Brooklyn Park’s Harbour View Lawn on a Thursday Evening. They had this event called ‘Movies with a view’ that they did in the summer. The idea of being alone in a crowd of picnic-goers didn’t seem that appealing, but when he saw they were playing the original Dumbo, the same one he took his little sister Rebecca to see when he was 16 years old, he couldn’t pass up seeing the animated masterpiece on the big screen. Besides, if he got too uncomfortable no one would bat an eye to a man leaving an open-air venue.

He put some snacks, a drink, and a book(One of the ‘Lord of the rings’ series as he had been catching up)in his backpack and set out. He arrived early so he could sit on one of the benches. People from all walks of life arrived around him. Families both young and old, older couples searching for nostalgia, lovers looking longingly at each other, groups of friends looking to fill an evening, and so many children. The lawn had filled up so rapidly as people descended onto the grass, laying out their blankets and pulling out picnics they had prepared at home and purchased moments before from their favorite grocers. There was an undeniable excitement in the air as the sun was setting. Despite the fact it was the people watching that had him caught up, Bucky hadn’t noticed the small child walking up to him until she was less than a foot away from him, staring at him with big e/c eyes.

She wore a summer dress with a cardigan protecting her shoulders from the sun. Her hair was pushed back in a hairband. She was holding a yellow teddy bear that wore a silver t-shirt and a red cape and had gone limp from a combination of lost stuffing and age.

“Hi,” Bucky said, clearly uncomfortable. “Are you okay?” She walked up and sat next to him. He shifted away from her slightly, aware that this may look odd to any by-passers.

“I know who you are.” The little girl whispered to him.

“Do you?” Bucky asked, trying to remain calm. It was just a little kid, but she was freaking him out a little bit. For all he knew, this small child could be a member of some new black widow program. She smiled widely, revealing she was missing a front tooth.

“You’re Captain America’s best friend!” she half-whispered, half-squeaked in excitement. “Me and my brother saw you at the museum!”

Bucky couldn’t help the nervous laughter that came out of him. He felt himself relax at the kid’s excitement. “You saw me at the museum?” he faked intrigue. He knew there was a display on him in every Captain America museum.

Her hair bounced as she nodded. “There was a big picture on the glass and it said that you were dead, but my brother said you weren’t dead. And I thought he was being stupid, cause,” She looked around and then leaned in a little closer as if telling Bucky a secret “He can be really stupid. He didn’t even know how to tie his shoelaces until he was ten! But I’ve known how to tie my shoelaces since I was six!” She boasted.

“That’s amazing. since you were six? How old are you now?”

“I’m seven and three quarters.”

“Wow, you’re a big girl.” She nodded with a ‘yep’. “But you’re not big enough to be on your own, kiddo-”

“I’m not on my own, I’m with you.” She interrupted him. Following the trend of interruptions, a boy ran up to the two of them, holding a picnic blanket in his arms. He wore blue board shorts with a Captain America t-shirt and Iron man themed sneakers.

“Y/D/N what are you doing?! Mom is looking for you!” He yelled at the little girl. The two looked remarkably similar to each other.

“Look!” she ordered, pointing at Bucky. The boy looked at Bucky and his mouth dropped open, looking like a fish. Bucky wanted to laugh at how cartoonish it looked.

“You’re Captain America’s best friend.” He exclaimed though he couldn’t be heard that well over the chatter of people settling down and the movie being set up. “I knew that you weren’t dead, even before you were fighting Iron Man in Germany. That was so cool, Iron man was all pew pew and Spiderman was all thwish twish and you were in the middle all pow pow” The blanket had since fallen to the ground as the young boy got caught in his excitement and started recreating the movements with the sound effects, punching the air for Bucky’s punches, waving his arms around wildly for Wanda’s magic. Y/D/N looked on bored as he continued his display “and when the dust cleared you and Cap were gone, like dust in the wind.” He recounted epically, waving his fingers in a sideways motion.

“I told you he was stupid.” The little girl commented.

“You’re stupid!” he shot back. Before anything could escalate, Bucky gently put his arms between the children.

“Hey now, let’s not fight. If I have to call the Avengers they’re gonna be mad.” Bucky spoke. He really hoped this would work, and that they wouldn’t continue to fight in hopes of bringing the Avengers down to Harbour View Lawn. The movie started then, music playing out over the crowd rendering the crowd quiet.

“Mom is gonna be worried.” The boy stressed out loud

“What’s your name, son?” Bucky spoke to the boy

“Y/S/N.”

“Okay, Y/S/N. Here’s what we’re gonna do. Spread that blanket there.” Bucky motioned to the empty patch just a step in front of the bench he was sitting on. “and you two will stay here while I go tell the event people that you can’t find your mom.” The two kids spread out the blanket and sat on it. Bucky passed them his backpack and asked them to take care of it so they wouldn’t runoff. He found an event organizer and told them the situation, describing the kids. He returned shortly, the two kids not having moved as the movie played on a screen in front of the open water. He sat back down on the bench just behind the kids, paying more attention to them than the film.

“I’m hungry,” Y/D/N complained.

“That’s what you get for running off.” Y/S/N shot back at her.

“Do you like oranges?” Bucky spoke up behind them. Y/D/N nearly launched off the blanket as she yelped ‘yeah’ back at the man, twirling to look at him. He opened his bag and pulled out his orange, passing it to the little girl. Unprompted, the little girl asked her brother if he wanted half, which he happily accepted. “Sorry I don’t have another.”

“It’s okay, we share all the time,” Y/S/N explained, shoving an orange slice into his mouth.

You are a good ten minutes into the movie when a panicked woman is lead over to them by an event organizer. She runs to them, falling to her knees as she scoops them into a hug. “Oh, my babies.” She sobbed. “You scared me so much.”

“Mooom!” The boy groaned.

She rapidly thanked Bucky and the event organizer, who took their leave once they were reassured that the situation had been handled. “You are both in so much trouble!”

“Can we be in trouble after the movie?” The girl asked.

You were about to order them to get up and leave when Bucky spoke up. “I’ve been able to keep a good eye on them from up here, and there’s plenty of space.”

The joint chorus of ‘pleases’ from your two kids won you over. You sat down next to the man. You two could barely see each other in the dark, but he seemed nice. After all, he had reunited you with your kids.

“Thanks again for keeping an eye on them.” You whispered. “I hope they didn’t give your group too much trouble.”

“No,” he answered quietly “They’re good kids.”

“Not good enough,” you muttered. “They’re excitable, but that just means it’s never boring.” Bucky watched as Y/D/N turned around and pulled a full net of oranges out of your bag.

Watching the movie with company was definitely better. A comfortable silence fell among the four of you, only broken when you had offered him a couple of the bite-sized chocolate bars you had brought. The kids laughed at the movie, your little girl even cheering on the animated elephant. She threw her hands up in a cheer when he successfully took flight, making the two adults chuckle.

“Told you they were excitable.” You giggled.

“Me and my little sister were worse when he first saw Dumbo.” Bucky admitted. “We were on the edge of our seats the whole movie.”

“How else can you enjoy a movie!” you posed the rhetorical question.

Bucky had to admit he thought you were lovely. Just enough seriousness and playfulness rolled into one. So when the lights came on at the end of the movie and he saw how beautiful you were he felt his heart race a little. You were already cleaning up while your children told you how great the movie was. He gathered his stuff and went to slip out when Y/D/N called out to him.

“Where are you going?”

“The nice man probably has places to be-” you began to lightly chastise the girl when you finally saw who you had been sitting next to throughout the movie. “You’re…”

Bucky held his breath. It was one thing the kid’s thinking he was amazing; you were a grown adult. Someone that possibly knew of his history and most likely thought ill of him. He waited for you to say his old mantal, possibly with fear or anger. Instead, you smiled gently,

“James Barnes.” You spoke. A moment later you flustered slightly. “I’m sorry. I work at the Museum of the City in East Harlem. We just did a big-” you stopped yourself before you could ramble onwards. “I’m Y/N L/N.”

It was a breath of fresh air to have someone react to him in such a…human way. “Please, call me Bucky.” He smiled warmly as he fixed his bag on his shoulder. “Can I walk you out?”

After your section was cleaned up the four of you walked out, with the two kids walking ahead of you. Despite how late it was, they still had energy. You had been left to take care of your daughter’s stuffed toy while she chased your son around the park space. “What you said about your sister,” you started, trying to keep an eye on your two kids despite how eye-catching the man beside you was. “I’m guessing that was back in the forties?”

“Yeah. Me and my little sister Becca went to see it. Me and Steve took her to see Snow White and since then we’d see all the cartoon movies. Every time we’d run home and beg our parents for extra allowance and bunk off school so we could see it before the other kids.”

“Captain America and the Winter Soldier…loved Disney movies.” You chuckled. “It sounds like some click-bait title.”

“We didn’t even have to beg that much, looking back,” Bucky recalled, shaking his head. The memories of Steve having an asthma attack outside the theatre because they’d run so fast to get there in time. Becca would pull him in by his shirt while he was still wheezing so she wouldn’t miss the opening cartoons.

“According to the display, you two were quite the pair.” You replied. “They were probably just happy to have you off the street and not causing trouble.”

Speaking of trouble, your two kids came bounding towards you with an angry swan on their heels. “Mommy!” Your little girl shrieked. The swan had given up its chase but the two still charged, Y/D/N colliding right into you and Y/S/N going behind Bucky to use him as a shield.

“I think that’s enough wondering for today.” You passively suggested. Y/S/N agreed as Bucky put his arm around the young boy and keeping it there as you walked and talked. You came to the exit of the park. “I’m this way,” you said.

“I’m the other way,” Bucky admitted. The two kids said goodbye to Bucky, clearly sad to be parting. You thanked him again for what he had done and turned to go with your own goodbye. “Before you go,” Bucky stopped you. “Could I get your number?”

You were instantly shocked. Your mouth opened and closed limply for a moment. “Are you sure?”

Bucky was slightly taken aback at that question. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I have two kids?” You said, almost sounding like a question.

“He knows that, mom.” Your son groaned. He looked absolutely bored; your daughter had newfound excitement.

“And I’d like to get to know more about you,” Bucky spoke. You chuckled nervously, looking away for a moment as you felt your cheeks flush then looked back to the tall man.

“I’d like that too.” You confessed, stepping forward. “Gimme your phone and I’ll put it in.”

Without a second thought, he pulled out his smartphone and watched you put your phone number in. “All setup.” You passed the phone back with a smile.

To say the two of you were riding on cloud 9 for the rest of the night would be an understatement.

#mcu bucky #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #mcu bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #mcu x reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f reader #bucky fluff #mcu reader insert #reader insert #fem!reader #fem!reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x fem!reader #tfatws #tfatws fanfic #tfatws fanfiction #becca barnes

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acklesforlife · 3 years

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Happy Birthday Danneel Ackles!

It’s Danneel Ackles’ birthday, so we thought for our continuing celebration of Supernatural Spring Break week, this was a good time to both wish her a happy birthday and share the rather amusing story of one of our first times meeting her.

There have been a few memorable times since, including the party celebrating ‘Supernatural Day’ in Austin with Mayor Adler, which was just plain fun and an opportunity for some real conversation.

And I’ll be forever touched that Danneel wanted a copy of Family Don’t End With Blood (and how incredulous she was that Jensen actually had a chapter in it!) and that she has read our other books too.

The actual first time we met Danneel was a long time ago – at the after party following the premiere of indie movie Ten Inch Hero, which was at a club in LA back in, I think 2008. We all left the premiere and walked over to the club, invited by director David Mackay – the cast and the audience all together.

We had a lovely little chat with Danneel there about the film, met screenwriter Betsy Morris who’s still a friend today, and asked actor Matt Barr (now of Walker) to watch the rest room door while I in desperation used the men’s room because there was a huge line at the women’s. (He was lovely about it and it makes me laugh now every time I see him as Hoyt).

It was a momentous party, what can I say? After that, my co-author Kathy and I interviewed David over a three hour brunch in Vancouver for the first book we were working on, and mentioned that we’d love to chat with Danneel too. To be honest, we didn’t really think that would happen. But a few months later, while we were in LA for the Supernatural convention, we got a call from David.

I’ll let some excerpts from our second book, Fangasm! Supernatural Fangirls, take it from here…

… he let us know that Danneel Harris had actually agreed to an interview too. This prompted some hyperventilating and a rush of euphoria that left us grinning like fools. Jensen Ackles’s girlfriend was going to meet with us? Really? David had given Lynn’s cell phone number to Danneel so that she could call us tomorrow, the same day the boys came back to town. SWEET.

Given the pattern of the weekend so far—great things happening and then going horribly wrong—we should have known what was coming.

[On the Sunday of the convention, while everyone was in a fever pitch of excitement over Jared and Jensen being there] Lynn was obsessively checking her phone. “Noooo!!” she gasped. It was the plaintive moan of a beast in distress.

Kathy assumed that Lynn was passing a gallstone from the sound of it.

“No reception!” Lynn said, wide-eyed.

For Kathy, who hates phones (really, what doesn’t Kathy hate?) this didn’t seem like a big deal. The world really is too connected anyway. An hour out of cell phone reception seemed like a welcome respite, an opportunity just to enjoy the moment.

Lynn wasn’t as philosophical. “What if Danneel calls?”

Kathy honestly didn’t hold out much hope that this would actually happen—a yellow on the threat scale at most—so she wasn’t concerned.

Lynn was taking up her slack by flailing around, banging buttons on her phone as if somehow this would jolt it into action. “How can there be no cell phone reception in LA??”

Lynn had a point. We’re reasonably certain that there is cell phone reception in the Arctic Circle, but there was not a bar to be had in a hotel in LA. LA!! The town where everyone’s people are calling everyone else’s people, where iPhones are accessorized to coordinate with the day’s outfits, where a missed call can ruin a career. Jared and Jensen distracted Lynn for the duration of their time onstage, but as soon as it was over Lynn made a bee line for Jared’s girlfriend, Sandy (the woman sitting in front, wearing a hoodie so no one would recognize her—except Lynn apparently). Lynn wildly explained our dilemma to the stunned and probably scared actress. It was a good thing the Men With No Necks (MWNN) were only being paid to guard “the boys” or Lynn would have been face down on the carpet.

While Lynn was doing this, Kathy was pretending that she did not know Lynn.

Sandy was sympathetic, but didn’t know if she’d even see Danneel. Lynn thanked her for the sympathy and moved on to the next person who might be able to help. She attempted to enlist convention photographer Lizz, to no avail, and finally Creation owner Adam.

“I’ll try Lynn,” he said, sounding slightly exasperated. “But I’m kinda running an entire convention here.”

Thwarted again, Lynn pulled out all the stops. During her Jensen photo op, she stopped everything to explain the situation to Jensen himself.

“Hi, Jensen,” Lynn said, hoping that her voice wasn’t sounding too shaky. “We have an interview set up with Danneel today for the book we’re writing on fandom, and she’s supposed to call us, but I don’t have any reception on my phone, so I’m afraid she won’t be able to.”

The photo-op process screeched to a halt, and the room fell silent. Photo ops, you see, are not a place for conversation. They are highly valued by fans, who pay top dollar for the privilege of standing next to a celebrity, and they are relentlessly organized. The entire experience lasts about twenty seconds, and during that time you’re expected to say hello to the celebrity, smile, perhaps get an arm around your back or lean into said celebrity’s very firm bicep, and then move the hell out of the way and let the next person crowd in for the next picture. The photo ops allow no room for deviation. So when deviation happens, no one is very happy. The photographer wasn’t happy. The other fans weren’t happy. And the MWNN looked ready to move into swift and potentially lethal action.

Not that any of this stopped Lynn. “Can you put us in touch with her?” she continued, oblivious to the threatening stares all around her.

“Oh right, the interview,” Jensen said.

Lynn just nodded, though inside she was stuck on “OMG Jensen knows about our interview and our book, ohmygodohmygod.”

“Maybe she can email you,” Jensen continued. Then the conversation abruptly ended as Lynn was grabbed unceremoniously by the back of the neck and “escorted” from the photo-op room. Uh oh. She hadn’t experienced that feeling since being a two-year-old caught trying to get away with her baby brother’s coveted teddy bear. Lynn was most definitely in trouble—and even worse, she’d made no progress in getting in touch with Danneel, who didn’t even have our email address!

Lynn, ever the intrepid researcher, was not deterred. She thanked the Man with No Neck for his assistance and got right back in line for her next photo op, the “sandwich” photo (as in sandwiched between Jared and Jensen, which is vaguely dirty and thus very popular). As Lynn walked up, Jensen immediately tried to continue their conversation.

“So do you want to . . .” he began, while Jared looked confused. After all, the celebrities know the no talking rule as well as the fans.

Lynn held up a hand defensively. “Shh, I’m not talking to you. I totally got in trouble for it before,” she added, as the MWNN hovered threateningly.

Jensen laughed. “I got in trouble too,” he protested.

We doubt the MWNN were involved.

“Can Danneel get us her email?” Lynn managed as she was once again “encouraged” to leave the room as quickly as possible.

There was no time for an answer. Damn. Thwarted again. We were disappointed, but Lynn was relieved that she wasn’t escorted out of the entire con (the specter of the Flying Fangirl from Asylum still looms large at these events after all). We were still feeling like an interview with Danneel had been too good to be true anyway, so we tried to swallow our sadness and settled in to watch some of the other guests. Midway through the next panel, Lizz the photographer came out into the audience and passed us a note—from Danneel. It just said, “Send me an email, love danneel” and included her email address. Being a bit clueless about the popularity of smartphones in 2008, we figured this meant that she wanted us to get in touch with her later for an email interview. We were disappointed that we wouldn’t get to talk to her in person but incredibly excited that she’d given us her email address. We wandered back outside after the panel and tried not to be too miserable about the Danneel interview not happening that day. We were hanging out in the hallway chatting when photographer Lizz suddenly appeared and yanked us away in the middle of a sentence with an exasperated, “Come with me!” She led us down a small side hall.

We still weren’t entirely sure what was going on. Were we in trouble again? Had the MWNN decided to kick us out after all? Moments later, Danneel emerged from the side door, introducing herself with a smile. Somehow we managed to compose ourselves and smile back. Apparently Jensen had facilitated the interview after all! Danneel suggested that we all grab some coffee, so we headed upstairs to the hotel’s Starbucks, where Danneel insisted on treating.

Coffee in hand, we went back downstairs to start the interview. Danneel suggested that we go backstage to talk, and then came a weirdly symbolic moment. The very same Man with No Neck who had tossed Lynn unceremoniously out of the photo op for daring to speak to the talent now held back the curtain to the backstage area, solicitously helped Danneel and us step over the various wires and cables snaking across the floor, then closed the curtain behind us to seal our crossover. The irony wasn’t lost on us.

Kathy whipped out her trusty voice recorder just as she had done for every other interview we’ve conducted, turned it on, and . . . nothing. We were interviewing Jensen Ackles’s girlfriend and there was NOTHING. It wasn’t the batteries, which had been checked and rechecked. Kathy tried to maintain some semblance of professionalism. She would quietly figure out what was wrong and then she would just as quietly fix it. Deep breaths. Okay, the recorder was FULL. Not to worry. She excused herself, leaving a confused Lynn to entertain Danneel.

First the cell phone, now the voice recorder. Sunday turned out to be the day technology failed us. This, for Lynn, is an everyday occurrence. For Kathy not so much. She loves technology. She embraced the Internet years before it got pretty, she used a “portable” PC to write her doctoral dissertation (portability is of course a relative designation—relative to muscle mass and stamina), and she gets gleeful over the prospect of using every new toy her university has to offer. So yes, technology was her friend. Until it wasn’t.

While Kathy dashed upstairs to grab her laptop (wishing that she could grab a shot of tequila), Lynn attempted to keep up a conversation with Danneel without actually asking any of our carefully prepared interview questions. Without a recorder, there was no way she’d remember a damn thing that was said—so that left small talk as the only option. Luckily, Danneel and Lynn connected over their mutual love of writing, swapped college stories, and then Lynn (as always) managed to talk about her children. Danneel proved herself a great listener. Minutes went by—lots of them—and Lynn realized to her horror that Jensen and Jared were almost done with their autographs. After that, it was off to the airport—and we would lose our interviewee to her boyfriend as she left with Ackles. Where was Kathy???

Finally, shortly before Lynn had moved on to telling Danneel about her daughter’s first steps, Kathy returned and hurriedly tried to download everything onto the laptop while time quickly ran out. Come on!! All Kathy could focus on was how long it was taking for everything to download. That and the rising nausea that threatened to overtake her. Lynn, in desperation, started asking the interview questions (which, since they weren’t recorded, are lost to posterity—and to this book).

Suddenly Jared Padalecki walked by, meaning that autographs were over and people were getting ready to leave. We despaired of a recorded interview, heartbroken over the squandered opportunity. And then, quite unexpectedly, Jensen Ackles was standing there, smiling and saying hello. Even more improbably, he held a fluffy white dog in his arms. For a moment, Kathy was sure this was all part of the nightmare, because fandom at the time had no clue that Jensen even owned a dog. Icarus, however, was quite real—and quite fluffy. Icarus was almost as excited to see Jensen as we were—he’d apparently been whining backstage every time he heard his owner’s voice during the Q&A. We hugged Icarus while Jensen hugged Danneel and tried to talk her into riding with him to the airport. All Kathy heard in those words were that it was too late—she’d blown it.

Danneel, however, had other ideas. She blew Jensen off. No wait. This part can’t really be happening either. More of that dream? Kathy was contemplating poking herself with a sharp object, sticking her finger in a wall socket, anything to jar herself back into reality. This was surely just her own anxiety-ridden psyche toying with her. Must be. Who says goodbye to Jensen Ackles so that she can talk to US?? But Danneel really was excusing herself to say good-bye to Jensen, Icarus happily following, with assurances to us that she’d be right back to finish the interview. Kathy gathered together the few shreds of sanity she still had, sorted the problem, and figured out how to record directly onto the laptop.

Danneel returned, true to her word, and the interview finally began. We relocated to the “green room,” the cloistered room where the guests are confined between stage appearances. The green room, as we were well aware, is a private space—more or less a “No Fans Allowed” clubhouse for the celebrities. We immediately felt like imposters, occupying a space where we clearly shouldn’t be. The room offered a small banquet of food, a bit of which we gratefully sampled, and a table stacked full of fans’ gifts for “the boys.” The coolest of these was a hairdryer that looked exactly like Dean Winchester’s favorite gun—and yes, it actually worked!

Danneel, of course, was quite comfortable in the green room and turned out to be very good at making us comfortable as well. Lynn asked questions. Danneel answered. Kathy breathed. Everything was going to work out just fine. Somewhere the unicorns of fandom were neighing happily.

And then the laptop went dead.

Kathy again tried to be unobtrusive as she flailed around trying to find an outlet. No point in making a bigger fool of herself, right? Sooner or later, though, it became apparent that she was in need of assistance and everyone, including Danneel, was up and scouting for an outlet, crawling under tables and moving furniture to do so. Danneel, we decided, had the patience of a saint. She never lost her sense of humor either, shrugging off our apology for keeping her from accompanying Jensen to the airport by wryly noting that “Jared would have been in the limo anyway, it’s not like we could have made out on the way to the airport” and jumping up to knock on wood when we asked her about the possibility of marriage.

In the midst of all the sitcom mishaps we did manage to carry on an interview…

You can read the rest of our misadventures (and the interview itself) with Danneel in the book, but Kathy and I left that day with a respect and affection for Danneel that has never faded.

Jensen posted a photo of her plunging a clogged toilet today for her birthday, and I laughed because it makes it clear that she’s still as genuine as she was that day she got down on the floor and crawled around looking for an outlet right along with us.

I’ve had the opportunity to chat with Danneel several times since our hilarious interview, and I think most people who have run into her at the brewery would say this too – she’s not afraid to be real.

I’m so glad Danneel was able to be part of Supernatural as a cast member before it ended, but really she’s always been part of the SPN Family. Happy birthday, Danneel – thanks for keeping it real!

–Lynn

Source: [x]

#THIS IS SUCH A SWEET STORY 🥺#danneel ackles #jensen ackles #the ackles #Fangasm #danneel:with fans #real life angel #ackles:stories #ackles:encounters #sandra mccoy #danneel:with jared #j2:cons #ackles:cons #ackles:with fans #jensen:with fans #j2:with fans #cute lil dork #danneel:cons

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thattimdrakeguy · 3 years

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Tiny Timmy Drake headcanons!

Hmmmm? How tiny you talking? Cause Timmy’s pretty small at any age. Like Timmy by default is tiny Timmy.

But hmmm.

In my head I abide by the idea of a floating timeline. So when ever I imagine 90s Tim (my fav Tim and the default one in my head) I always imagine it in present day, and so I’ve tried to somewhat adapt his character to modern day.

So I’ll just make headcanons that can apply to both pre-Robin Timmy, and as Robin Timmy. With a few maybe just pre-Robin Timmy just in case you meant EXTRA tiny Timmy.

Like he was on message boards and fan clubs as a kid. So I feel like the modern equivalent to that nowadays would be running a fan blog.

He also drew fan art, but in a modern day where that stuff has a community to encourage it. He probably got better at that and became a well known fan artist even though he’s just a little kid.

Has two Robin cosplays. One is clearly literally just his briefs and a red shirt, with a really bad cape and some green converse or what ever. But when he got laughed at by his friends over wearing it so much he spent the money to actually buy a more spot on cosplay. To which his friends still laugh cause the costume looks freaking ridiculous, but Tim doesn’t care because he loves Robin so freaking much.

Probably owns lots of Super Hero pajamas and action figures. I know he owns a robot action figure for real when he’s 15, so he definitely plays with action figures, and they’re always on and off on if Super Heroes have merch. But I like to think they do, and that Tim has a full-on Super Hero action figure collection.

Met Cassie without even knowing at a comic con. Both in cosplay as their favorite heroes (a prequel addition to the headcanon I already shared on the Cassie post). But they had no idea. Tim went to it with some boarding school friends since his parents where busy and it was in town, and Cassie’s mom took her. She joined them for a little bit and Cassie’s mom mostly went along with it because “WHY ARE THESE KIDS UNSUPERVISED”. They don’t really realize it till much later when they’re both in Young Justice and do it again and they just stare at each other for so long cause “Something about this feels like Deja Vu”.

Other people already have this headcanon and shared it with me even before, but I also just share it, where his teddy bear he’s shown as having, and implied to hide, was from his mom and he uses it to calm down his anxiety. But when he was in boarding school and he mostly just had a room to himself or with another kid who I like to think was his friend since Tim seemed pretty cheery back then he openly kept it on his bed. But when his dad came back, Tim hid it, because Jack always kind of comes off like a guy that’s like “BE A MAN, TIMMY” and sort of shuns soft stuff like that.

During the middle of the night when him and his boarding school roommate (which I don’t know if he actually ever had, but lets say so for this), and they were both awake having midnight talk since they couldn’t sleep. Tim actually said he thought Bruce Wayne was Batman after a lot of prefacing that his friend couldn’t “tell anyone”. His friend blew it off as ridiculous and that Tim needs to stop obsessing over Super Heroes so much.

Has a long lost older sister that his parents never told him about because they gave her away because they “weren’t ready”, and knew Tim would be very upset about it, even at a very young age.

Has a tik tok, it’s very cringy but a few go viral mainly cause Tim’s just so cute in a dorky baby way that people shared it. Tim didn’t realize some were laughing at him so he kept doing it till he realized. Later Ives finds out and makes Tim do it again for his big “comeback”. Tim in the earlier comeback ones clearly looks very annoyed and awkward cause he didn’t really wanna do it. But later on him and Ives makes some bangers.

Used to jump on the bed a lot until he broke the springs and was too embarrassed to tell anyone he literally broke his bed. So he just slept on a broken bed till his days at boarding schools were over.

#Tim Drake #Robin #DC Comics

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babylooneytoonz · 4 years

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Trip Mines & Broken Hearts [Tommy Shelby x Reader]

Quick link to find all the other parts here.

Part-5

In the bleak midwinter, when everything was dark and decaying, you had one hope. A tiny ray of light; in the form of her shrill cries—

You named her Sophie.

All that pain, all those endless hours of screaming, cursing and writhing in pain, she had finally made an appearance at 4 am on an early winter morning in Birmingham, her tiny black hair mopped over her small, round head. She was beautiful, her tiny hand, it could fit in your wedding band.

She had her father's blue eyes, and maybe, she would have Tommy's cheekbones when she grew up.

How you loved those cheekbones—

As you nursed your newborn to sleep, you felt a pang in your chest, and a sudden breathlessness; your heart aching for him. If only, he was here right now. If only, he could hold her, press her to his chest, and promise he will watch over her for the rest of his life, devoting himself to the daughter he shared with you.

Now, six years later, the pain wasn't as severe as it was before.

Time heals all wounds—

No, it doesn't heal them, you just get so immune to the pain, you stop feeling it anymore. It's as though it becomes a part of you—

If there was one thing you could not have, the love of the man you wanted, you had found companionship; friendship in form of Theodore Wilkinson, your husband. Your daughter, your precious angel, your little Sophie, had a loving, nurturing father and you were happy.

But you couldn't stop her from growing up, could you?

You wished sometimes, that she was still a babe, curled at your chest, nestled away from all the harsh realities of this world, unaware, in a bliss. But then, she was growing up.

She was six today—

Although you couldn't afford to throw her a lavish birthday party, with all the money restrictions, the rent you had to pay, taking care of your husband, who was slowly dying, succumbing finally, to the infection that his leg had caught back in France, you did still do what little you could to make her day. Three of her friends had just left, their tummies full, remnants of the delicious chocolate lavendar cake you had baked still on the corners of their lips.

You stood by the door to your parlor, your eyes trained on your daughter who was sprawled over the carpeted floor, unwrapping what little presents she had, while her father sat in his wheelchair, not far from her, an excited, happy look on his face, causing you to smile as well. On days like this, you felt blessed, you felt thankful, that your daughter had gotten the love of both, a father and a mother. No child should be deprived of that.

Your husband's eyes caught you and you saw him bend slightly, whispering something into Sophie's ears as he slowly wheeled his way towards where you were standing.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asked you.

"She's growing up so fast, Theodore, I just—" You grumbled, both your eyes trained on her as she was still unwrapping one of the boxes, "— I wish time would slow down. It's like her childhood is slipping away and I'm losing you to —" You bit back on your tongue, to refrain yourself from saying it out loud, but it was too late, he had already caught you.

"T's okay love, you can say it. I'm dying. But there's nothing to be sad in that, is there? You gave me a new life in France, if it wasn't for you, I would have died back then, wouldn't have had the fuckin' chance to father such a lovely child."

"Theo—" You whispered, placing both your hands on his shoulders as you towered over him, giving them a slight squeeze.

This man had been nothing but kind to you. You wished you could love him the way you loved the man who didn't look back, left you and your daughter but you couldn't. No matter how hard you tried, there is a thing about love—the heart had a mind of its own; it wanted what it wanted, no matter how hard you tried to confuse it. Theo had always known that you didn't love him, not the way a wife should love his husband but he was okay with it. He knew that someone had broken your heart, so bad, you had stopped living, you just existed and he had often tried to ask you who he was, but you had never told him.

It surprised you today, when out of the blue, on your daughter's sixth birthday, he asked you the question you didn't want to answer.

"Would you deny a dying man a last wish?"

"You are not dying Theo—"

"Who was he, love? The man that broke your heart? Who's her father?" He pointed towards Sophie with his eyes.

"You are."

"Biological father, love." He said, a little sternly.

You sighed, your fingers toying aimlessly with each other. You had tried to stir him away from this for six years, but you didn't think you could lie any longer. And he was right, not when he was inching closer to death everyday. You could already see his bones, he hardly could keep food inside, you often had to keep him on a liquid diet.

So you decided, that tonight in bed, you would tell him everything because he deserved to know. And when you did, needless to say, he was shocked.

"Thomas Shelby? Thomas Fucking Shelby? That bloody gangster that threatens men with those fookin' razor blades?" Your husband had a priceless look on his face; as though he had mined out diamonds and was about to get rich.

"You talk about him like he's some fuckin' God."

"He is, to almost all of Birmingham, you see there's only a thin line between God and the devil, the devil is, after all, a fallen angel—" He groaned as he tried to get comfortable in bed but could not do so, his sore body making him almost curse in pain.

You couldn't help roll your eyes at him, shrug your shoulders and lay down on your back, closing your eyes, as you mumbled, "Go to bed, Theo, I have to be at the clinic early in the morning." You worked at a tiny clinic on the other side of the town; a clinic for the lower middle class, those who couldn't afford going to expensive doctors. But he paid you enough to keep your house over the head.

The next morning, you had woken up early and headed to the clinic and much to your dismay, there had been a blast at a factory nearby, which meant you had to extend your shift by a few hours as the casualty number was starkly high. It was almost ten at night and you had been working non stop for almost fourteen hours. Your body felt like it had been run over by a motorcar, your shoulders were tense and you had a spurting headache that caused you to groan in annoyance at any sound that you came across, while walking back home.

Little did you know that you were soon going to forget all this—

Your house was eerily quiet, and usually you could hear the sound of your daughter's words even when you had not started climbing up the stairs to your front door. But of course, it was late at night and it wouldn't be a surprise if your husband had somehow managed to tuck her in.

You unlocked the door with a sigh, stepping in and immediately sliding out of your shoes. The living room was dark, but you could see that the lights in Sophie's bedroom were switched on. Taking off your overcoat, you placed it on the hanger, noting an unfamiliar overcoat hanging on it. Who was visiting your house at 10 at night?

"Sophie, baby?" Your voice was trembling slightly, ringing through the hallway as you aimlessly called out; although you didn't know why.

That's when you heard the floorboard creak, somewhere in the house, just lightly but you had still caught it; and you knew you weren't alone.

The first thing you did was lunge at a vase nearby as a reflex, curling your fingers tight around it; switching on the light.

A sudden panic took over you and you turned towards the intruder.

"It's me, put the fucking vase down."

Just like his words, the vase slipped from your fingers, crashing against the floor as the horror sunk in. Oh, how you had imagined this night to be; the countless times you had rehearsed in your mind, what you were going to say to him, but right now, all you could manage to do was let out the breath you didn't even realise you were holding in.

It was as though you were standing face to face with your past—

After all these fucking years, he looked just the same; just a tad bit older perhaps & the way his hair was styled was so different now; and was that pain in his eyes? Was that regret? Regret he fucking left you like a discarded toy—

The relief of seeing him again was short-lived, and what followed it was a fear, a mother's instinct.

"Sophie. Where is she? Where is she?" You screamed out loud, hot tears sliding out of your eyes.

"Fucking hell," He almost snapped in annoyance, "Stop, she's inside —"

"How the fuck did you even find us? What the fuck are you doing in my fucking house?"

You were going mad; you were going crazy. You could feel your body shake like a leaf. Tommy tried to hold you by your shoulders to stop you from shaking but you pushed his hands away, taking a step away.

"Sophie?" You turned back around; running towards your daughter's bedroom. Pushing the door open, you stepped in, only to find her asleep in bed, her teddy bear tucked into her arm. You slid down on the floor, next to the bed, running your fingers through her hair and slowly, she fluttered her eyes open, probably having been woken up from sleep, "Mummy?"

"Baby, mummy's here, you don't have to be afraid. Where's your daddy?"

She shifted in bed, bringing her teddy up to her chest, "Which daddy mummy? The old one or the new one?"

"What do you mean? Of course, you've got one daddy, baby."

There was a sudden silence in the room. It didn't make sense; there sat your daughter's real father, in the living room of your house. And here, your daughter's words didn't make any sense.

"Daddy said that he is my new daddy, I haven't seen him since then," your daughter's sleepy voice reached you.

"When did this happen, baby?"

"When daddy took me to meet my new daddy. Now will you come to bed with me?" She rubbed her sleepy eyes with her palms.

It all made sense now.

"Go to sleep, baby. Mummy will join you in a minute. Mummy wants to speak to your daddy."

Her real daddy.

You were about to stand up, when her sleepy, broken words reached your ears, "Is my new daddy still here? I want him mummy."

You sighed, barely audible as you tucked her into her blanket, kissing her forehead before you made your way out, closing the door slowly without slamming in. Your shoes flapped against the wooden floorboards as you stormed your way into your bedroom, only to find an empty bed, the place where Theodore used to rest. You didn't understand.

Your nostrils flared; your eyes burnt in hatred. That man had probably done something, of course, he was Thomas Fucking Shelby, capable of anything.

You stepped into the hallway, screaming his name until you were once again standing face to face.

"THOMAS?!"

Today, you were going to confront him, this was the day you had been waiting for, but you sure had hoped it would be in better circumstances—

"Where the fuck is my husband?"

"Sit down."

"Thomas, just tell me what did you do to him? Did you kill him? Did you fucking kill him because you couldn't stand —"

"FOR FUCKS SAKE, WILL YOU BLOODY SIT DOWN?"

He cut you off, screaming back at you, just as loudly as you were screaming, your chest heaving up and down.

Finally, you dropped down on the edge of the couch, as though you were nothing but a lifeless corpse. You looked at him, your eyes clouded with mist; hatred in your eyes.

"You shouldn't have come back, I was so happy without you."

From the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy sit doen on a couch opposite to you, his elbows coming to rest on his knees as he pushed them apart, arching his body forward, his cold, conniving eyes scrutinizing you. His fingers shuffled through his breast pocket to pull out a box of cigarettes and a stick, pinning it to his lips. As you saw him light a match, his face glowing orange under the light from the tiny source of fire, you could see the haunting in his eyes, the questions buried deep within his soul.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me?"

You sat back, your back brushing against the backrest as you eyed him, a bitter smile creeping against the corner of your lips.

"What good would have come from telling you anyway? You were busy with that blonde bartender of yours, what was her name? Ah, yes, Grace."

Tommy's hand clenched into a fist at the mention of her name, his knuckles almost cracking and a warning look crossed his eyes.

"Don't drag her into this mess you've fucking created."

"Where is my husband?" Your immediate question followed; your body a little relaxed now. If he wanted to have a discussion like adults, you were going to give him one.

"Your husband—" You stiffened, sensing the bitterness in his throat; the way the words rolled out of his lips, venomous, ugly. You could sense the danger lurking within the walls of his emotionless eyes, a danger you wanted to shield your daughter from.

"I freed him."

You stood up, towering over him, blinking; confused.

"What?"

You watched as the man you once loved bring the cigarette up to his lips, smoke belting out of his mouth, coiling around him like a snake.

"Guess I had a visitor, an unexpected one, for that matter. At first, I didn't believe what he told me; that he was your fucking husband."

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY HUSBAND?"

"I just handed him the gun—"

You could listen no more. Your throat contracted, a sudden feeling of someone choking and twisting your insides took over you, and you doubled up, pressing your palm to your lips, a wave of nausea hitting you. You then recoiled away from him.

He killed your husband.

"Why?" You whispered; your tears falling freely off your eyes, looking into his eyes for any form of emotion, if there was any left inside of him.

"He begged me for release."

You knew he wasn't lying, the man that was dead inside him, the boy you knew, did not lie to you. Not when he was looking you straight in the eye. Your memories flew back to the day he had confessed to not having given Jasper the locket that was intended to be his goodluck charm, which was now dangling from his waistcoat.

"You couldn't live without taking another one's life, did you? You couldn't fucking keep your hands off my husband, you fucking did it again."

Tommy stood up, letting the butt of the cigarette drop to your floor and he stomped on it, his hands flying to his waist. He took a step forward, towering over you, his mind struggling to keep in control the rage that was building inside him.

"I did what he asked me to, hand him the fucking gun. It's a soldier's thing, you won't bloody understand."

"Are you religious, Thomas?" You stood up abruptly, ignoring how close you were standing from him, your chest almost parallel to his.

"Never was."

"Then stop trying to be a fucking God."

You felt numb, your thoughts scattered, your heart wailing in agony. You turned away from him, you couldn't look him in the eye. He was a murderer. Even if it was your husband who had wanted it.

You knew it, with every bit of your heart, how Theodore hated being like this; in pain, like a heavy burden on your shoulders, but he shouldn't have done it. The realisation hit you, how he had asked you who Sophie's father was and maybe, just maybe you had lied, maybe it wouldn't have happened.

"Is she mine?" That cold voice was at it again, clawing through your mind like a shovel.

After all that you had been through, he thought she wasn't his.

"Why are you here if she isn't yours?"

He didn't answer.

"Get the fuck out of my house, out of my life, back into the fucking hole you crawled out from and out of my daughter's life. You've murdered my husband, I wouldn't let you touch a hair on my girl's head."

Something shattered around you; a beautiful vase, scattering to pieces around you as Thomas took his anger out on it, smashing it to the wall. Without saying anything, you watched as he turned around, taking his coat off the coat hanger.

"If she's my girl, there's no one that can stop me from seeing her, ay?"

With one last warning, your front door slammed shut and you were engulfed in a sudden emptiness, in a big empty house— a widow, with a daughter to raise.

(A/N - The GIFs are not mine, found one on Google and liked it so I saved it. Let me know if it is yours and I will credit you. 💕)

@sighonahurricane hope you like it.

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders x reader

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hopecountysfavhoe · 3 years

Text

‘Cold’ Chapter Fourteen

Word Count: 3,067

Rating: PG13 maybe? Idk it’s not a graphic chapter

The doctor finally gave the Deputy the green light to leave the clinic, although she told her not to leave Holland Valley for a while.

She sat the Deputy down and gave her a long list of instructions. "Stay away from trouble for a while ok? No gunfights, no fistfights, no big falls, just take it easy. If you feel severe pain in your chest or anywhere else I want you to come here straight away. If you start to feel swelling in your face an ice pack twice a day should help. I'm giving you a pain pill prescription, you'll have to come back in two weeks for me to fill it again. And I know you're going to hate this next part but-" the doctor walked over to a cabinet and pulled a crutch out.

"You're going to have to walk with this for two weeks until you come back to refill your prescription." The doctor handed her the crutch, her expression showed that she wasn't taking no for an answer.

The Deputy took the crutch unwillingly. "Two weeks?" She asked and the doctor nodded.

"Two weeks then you come in for a check up and I tell you if you need to use it for longer than that. Kim said she'd be here in about twenty minutes to pick you, do you want to wait in here or outside?" The doctor asked and the Deputy stood up, using her crutch for support.

"I'll wait outside. Thanks Doc, I'll see you in a couple weeks." The doctor gave her a smile and left the room, giving her privacy. As soon as the doctor rounded the corner, the Deputy leaned the crutch against the bed, standing on her own.

The Deputy went to the closet and found her old clothes, though they were torn and full of holes the Deputy was happy to get to wear something other than the clinic robe. When she was bored the Deputy had used a towel and water to wash the blood off of her shirt and pants so they were pretty clean.

The Deputy groaned at the idea of having to tote around the crutch but she knew she'd have to use it when she left so that the doctor didn't get upset at her. She supposed it did help to hold her weight but she could tell it was going to get tedious fast.

The Deputy hobbled out of the clinic and waited on the front porch for Kim. She fiddled with the edge of her jacket sleeve. After months of wear and tear it's seams were ripping, even after she'd stitched it up numerous times. The hem of the right sleeve was the most frayed, she knew she'd have to find another jacket but it was almost summer so she wouldn't be needing it that often.

After sitting for so long inside the clinic the wait for Kim seemed like it only took a couple minutes. Soon she heard the rumble of a car engine and saw dust on the road leading up to the clinic. Kim pulled into the driveway and got out of her truck, a smile plastered on her face.

"You ready to go?" She asked and the Deputy nodded. She lifted herself off of the bench with her crutch and walked over to the truck. Kim opened the door for her and then walked around to the drivers side.

"So, the doctor gave you a crutch?" Kim inquired motioning to the crutch in the Deputy's lap.

"Yeah, she told me to use this when I...feel tired." The Deputy lied, knowing that if Kim knew she was supposed to use it all the time then she'd never leave her alone about it.

Kim knew she was lying but she didn't press her on it. She didn't try to make much small talk, she knew the Deputy wasn't in the talking mood. She brought her back to her and Nick's house and led her inside. She made up the couch for her since the spare bedroom was Carmina's room.

"And you're sure you wouldn't rather stay with someone else? I'm just worried Carmina will wake you up in the middle of the night. She's got a tooth coming in and it's been bugging her for the past couple of days." Kim checked as she got the Deputy a cup of tea.

The Deputy accepted the tea. "As long as you're fine with me staying here then I'll be fine. I can even help with her if you'd like." Kim smiled at her.

"Thank you, but I couldn't ask you to do that."

"It wouldn't be a problem. It's the least I can do since I've been taking you away from home so much, and I'm sleeping on your couch." The Deputy motioned around her and Kim sat down next to her.

"You know you're like family, you are always welcome here Deputy." Kim gave her hand a squeeze. Hearing Kim say that warmed the Deputy's chest. She'd never really been a family oriented person, but still the thought of being close to someone was always nice. And it was like a fuck-you to Jacob, who said that the people of the Resistance didn't care about her.

It was always hanging in the back of her mind, what if they didn't really care? But if these past 6 weeks had showed her anything the they showed her exactly how much they really did care about her.

The sound of Carmina crying over the baby monitor made Kim sigh. "I'm gonna go see what my little bundle of joy needs." She stood up with a tired chuckle.

"Wait, let me come with you so that I know what to do if she wakes up tonight." The Deputy suggested and set her tea on the coffee table. She lifted herself off the couch and followed Kim upstairs. Kim was hesitant but she knew the Deputy meant well so she let her follow her.

"Hey baby, how are you feeling?" Kim cooed as she opened the door to Carmina's room. From the crib came one of the loudest wails the Deputy had ever heard. Carmina was standing up with her hands on the bars of the crib, her face was red from crying. Behind her it was obvious she had tried to use her stuffed teddy bear as a step for her to climb up the side of the crib. It's face was squished in between two of the bars with a clear footprint in its forehead.

Kim lifted Carmina out of her crib and into her arms. "Oh baby girl, you're missing your blankey aren't you?" Another wail as Kim gave her a small bounce.

"Where's her blanket?" The Deputy asked and Kim turned to face her.

"I washed it today so it's in the laundry, here you take Carmina I'll go get the blanket." Kim handed Carmina to the Deputy and walked out of the room.

The Deputy shushed the fussing baby quietly, bouncing her on her chest to try and calm her down. It occurred to her that Carmina was probably getting scared by the giant scar on her face so she moved her to the other shoulder. The screaming toddler began to calm down on her shoulder, her tiny hands grabbing for the Deputy's hair to play with. The Deputy put little kisses on Carmina's soft head.

To help calm Carmina down, the Deputy hummed a song into her ear. It was just a song she'd heard on the radio but it sounded nicer in a hum.

It didn't take Kim very long to find the blanket so she came back pretty quickly. She was halfway up the stairs when she heard humming and stopped. No crying? She snuck up the stairs as quietly as possible, trying not to make herself known to the Deputy. If she heard her come back she was sure she'd stop humming. She hated people hearing her sing and would stop anytime she heard anyone coming.

Kim waited outside the room, just listening to the Deputy hum to Carmina. She loved watching the Deputy with Carmina, she was so gentle and careful Kim never worried about her. She knew that Deputy would never let anything happen to Carmina as long as she was there.

The Deputy finished her song and cradled Carmina in her arms. "Do you feel a little better now? Are you still waiting on your blankey? It's ok, I'm sure your momma will be back soon."

Kim decided to walk in then, holding up a powder blue blanket with giraffes on it. "Here's Blankey! All clean and fresh from the dryer!" She said with a big smile and brandished the blanket so that Carmina could see it.

Delighted, Carmina said something in baby talk and reached out for the blanket. The Deputy chuckled softly and followed Kim to the crib where she laid the blanket down. The Deputy lowered Carmina into her crib and watched as she grabbed two fistfuls of her blanket, laughing that adorable laugh as she rubbed her hands all over it.

"Ok, since it's still nap time auntie Dep and I are going downstairs now! You have a nice nap ok?" Kim planted a kiss on Carmina's head and her and the Deputy walked out of the room.

Kim closed the door and turned to the Deputy. "Man does that kid have some strong lungs." The Deputy remarked quietly and Kim laughed.

They both went back downstairs and sat on the couch. The Deputy finished her tea and they just sat together for a while.

"Hey Deputy, I've got to ask..." Kim set down her cup of tea and turned to the Deputy. "What's your name? I know you like being called the Deputy but I've never heard you say your real name before. If you want me and Nick and Carmina to call you 'Deputy' then of course we will but...I'm just so curious." Her curiosity made the Deputy chuckle.

"I do like people calling me the Deputy, I don't know why. It started out as a nickname for me down at the Sheriffs department and I guess it just kinda floated here. And I don't know if my name would bode well here." The Deputy explained and Kim laughed.

"How can a name not bode well? Is it something inappropriate?" She asked and the Deputy shook her head.

"It's just...kind of a weird name. I mean I'll tell you but, I don't know if anyone else should really know. It's not like I'm hiding or anything but, I don't know. You can help me figure out if I should tell a lot of people." The Deputy came around, especially since Kim was so curious.

"I can absolutely help with that! What is it?" She asked, and excited tone crept into her voice.

"Ok, but you can't laugh." The Deputy made her promise.

"Of course not!"

"Ok, my name is-" The front door opened loudly and Nick walked in. Both Kim and the Deputy both turned their heads to see who interrupted them.

"Hey guys." Nick said and walked into the kitchen. He had been working on his plane all day, as evident by the grease smears all over his clothes.

"Oh Nick!" Kim huffed and he looked over at her with a weird expression.

"What'd I do?" He demanded confusedly and Kim shook her head.

"It's nothing, here let me get the bread for you so you don't get grease all over my kitchen." She said and got up off the couch. She turned back to look at the Deputy. "We'll finish this conversation later, ok?" The Deputy nodded and Kim smiled.

She went into the kitchen and chided Nick for wearing his shop clothes in the house. It was obvious they'd had the conversation many times before as they both laughed.

The Deputy felt shy, like she wanted to leave. Not because she was uncomfortable or she didn't like being in their house. No it wasn't anything like that, it was just that the Deputy felt like she was mooching off of them and Nick and Kim were good people. She didn't want to bum off of them. She knew Kim wouldn't let her leave so she figured she would spend the night then leave in the morning.

Kim gave an indignant shriek from the kitchen, causing the Deputy to leap off the couch. "Nicholas Rye!" Kim chided and the Deputy walked over to the kitchen.

Nick has smeared grease on Kim's cheek, making a long black swath under her eye. They were both laughing while Kim grabbed a towel to wipe her face off.

"Hey Dep, I made two sandwiches so that if you wanted you could come out with me to the hangar. I could always use an extra hand around the plane." Nick said when he saw the Deputy.

The Deputy looked over at the counter to see more of a mess than two sandwiches. There were bread crumbs and mayonnaise everywhere, but there were two sandwiches sitting in the middle of the mess.

"Sure I'll help." The Deputy said and looked back at Nick.

"Great! And hey you don't have to eat it if you don't want to or anything. I've been practicing making sandwiches a lot recently so that when Carmina grows up I can make 'em for her!" Nick explained with a grin and started cleaning up the mess he'd made.

After they'd gotten the kitchen back under control, the Deputy followed Nick out to the plane hangar. They ate their sandwiches and the Deputy sat on a crate while Nick worked on the right wing of the plane.

He accidentally popped something out of place and muttered under his breath. "Uh oh."

"What's 'uh oh' for?" The Deputy asked and Nick scrunched you his face, looking at the plane wing.

"Oh nothing, just something else I have to fix." He said and was quiet again. The music from his radio was turned down so that they could talk to each other but they'd barely said two words since they got outside. Nick would occasionally ask for a tool from the open toolbox that the Deputy was sitting next too but that was pretty much it.

"So, how ya been feeling, Dep?" Nick asked and stepped out from under the plane wing. He rubbed his hands on an old towel hanging on the plane's door and faced the Deputy.

She was looking out of the hangar at the runway. Her scarred cheek was turned away from Nick and for a split second, she looked like the old Deputy. The one that never missed an opportunity to get in a fight or punch the lights out of a bad guy. The one with infectious laughter that never missed an opportunity to crack a joke.

"Tired, Nick. Real tired." She said and turned back to face him. Nick quickly looked away, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. Kim has already lectured him about that before she picked the Deputy up from the clinic. "But I'm getting better." The Deputy added for his sake. She didn't need Nick worrying about her on top of everything else.

The truth was that she was tired. She was tired of a lot. Her body was tired but also her mind was tired. Before she was mostly angry but after that last beating...she was getting sick of this fight. She'd almost died here many of times but she'd always had someone that had her back, like Sharky or Grace or Jess or Nick. But when she was alone in that room, it really set in that she could die here. Then what? She dies and finally gets some rest but then what if the rest of the Valley crumbled?

It was a lot to think about so the Deputy made the conscious decision not to die. Besides, she had to be there. For Carmina, for her friends, for the people that were counting on her, she needed to be there. Alive. She just couldn't see a way that she could live and survive here with all of the fighting. It would have to come to an end, and no matter what, the Deputy decided that she would be the end.

Jacob hadn't slept very much.

It was fine, he didn't need very much sleep but it was making his irritable. It had been 6 weeks since the Deputy escaped and he hadn't found a sign of her. Normally that would be a good thing except the Whitetail Militia was stepping up their game. Every annoying thing the Deputy had done they were now doing. They blew up his roadblocks, destroyed his helicopters, and hijacked his supply vehicles.

They were antagonizing him, clearly gathering the strength and rage to push back even stronger against the cult. Truthfully, Jacob didn't even know if the Deputy survived. Nobody had heard anything from her. Not John, Faith, or even Joseph. It was like she just disappeared into thin air. He assumed that it was possible she could have been recuperating somewhere but the way everything was happening was just too strange.

Even her friends were pushing back. Nick Rye has down some flybys on his and John's outposts. A sniper had been picking off some of his hunting parties, and someone wielding a bow and arrow was killing his Judges. That idiot Hurk Drubman Jr. had been blowing up everything with an Eden's Gate symbol on it, causing a lot of property damages. Jacob almost hoped the Deputy was dead, then at least he didn't have to worry about her coming around and fucking with his plans.

Joseph had visited the Veterans Centre the day after the massacre and spoken to Jacob. He told him about the pride of the Resistance and that their greed would be their downfall. He hoped Joseph was right. He had been right before about a lot, even about the Deputy's arrival, but Jacob doubted that even Joseph could have prophesied the amount of destruction she had the power to bring.

Jacob had put out more hunting parties and told his siblings to be on the look out for any sort of Deputy activity. Who knows what she could be planning if she was alive...

#far cry 5 #jacob seed #far cry #jacob seed x deputy #jacob x deputy #female deputy #deputy oc #fem! deputy #fem!deputy #jacob x fem deputy #jacob x female deputy #jacob seed fanfic #jacob seed x fem deputy #far cry fanfic

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kanene-yaaay-o-retorno · 4 years

Text

The Colors of my Soul(mates) [1]

[Second oneshot]

[AO3 link]

Kanene’s Notes:

Nope, I do not regret the pun. Okay, okay! I’ve plaining this AU for almost an year so I’m pretty excited to post it!! dfghjsdfrtyucfvgbhjv yaaaay!! Thank you very very much @olliedollie1204 for such a positive feedback and awesome ideas. it helped me a lot!!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Virgil, Logan, Patton and Roman (only a brief mention of Remy) in a platonic relationship (yet), but it can be viewed as romantic, if you wish.

* Warnings: A bit of swearing and depreciative thoughts. It’s mostly fluff and hurt/comfort, tho.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* Something around 4.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Say to someone important how much you love them, be safe, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

What can do a creature if not, between creatures, love? - Carlos Drummond de Andrade

- What the fu-

Virgil only discovered he had more than one Soulmate when he was twenty years old, more specifically the exact moment he took a wrong turn and kept going even knowing he was in the wrong way because one hour it would lead him to somewhere Virgil would recognize before his mortal being inevitably starved to death in the middle of nowhere and his eyes got dragged from the visions from thousands of futures created by his mind to a Teddy Bear Store - they seemed to replicate worse than bacteria during Valentine’s Day - and two bears from the crimson shelter suddenly dyed themselves in two milliseconds as he slightly glanced at them.

Two of them. Virgil felt his entire face burn in hot shades of embarrassment with drops of disbelief, almost as if all the people running, stumbling, locked in their own worlds and swearing while walked in the sideway because ‘some stupid teenager decided to just stop and block their way’ could, by only looking at him, stare deep into his soul and realize the one staring astonished the store already carried in his fate another one more Soulmate at home.

One completely different in shape and form, even if also blue, however in a light, sky blue completely opposite shade from the new navy one staring him down - Virgil knew plentily their link wasn’t bonded yet, albeit he was equally sure that the person behind those black glooming teddy bear’s eyes were already judging him, - wondering why, between all the people, he was their soulmate. The other red one was very much likely crackling in his face when an employee came and pointedly turn the adult’s attention to the sign in big, graphed words clued in front of their store:

“You dye, you buy.”

Virgil signed, pushing his hoodie down further, wondering how much time it would take of him hitting his head on the wall to finally pass out. This option sounded much more attractive when he realized that this new ‘discovery’ about himself would cost all his month’s saves.

He asked, to the Universe, the stars, the Earth and whoever was seeing him in that exact moment: why?

Was it a kind of prank? A punishment from fate when, years and tears ago, Virgil lifted his chin up and dared the Universe to give him more soulmates as he locked all his uncolored – although never really free of some weak drops of paint from what one day they came to be – simply stuffed animals, - and nothing more, anymore, - away and promised he would never, ever allow himself to go all through this shit again?

But… That had been… years ago. Almost a decade since that soft voice he got to know so well, the impulsive acts, long conversations and warm feelings.

But…

Time has passed, that is true. Nevertheless, deep down has he really changed?

Virgil stared at the bag carried so close to his chest since his bare hands were sweating and shaking way too much for this task. Yes, he knew his Soulmates won’t feel anything until both of them decided to ‘give the First Step’, accepting to link their souls and fates, for the longest as it lasts. However, he didn’t want to risk it, because what if they felt? What if he in some way broke the Soulmate System when got two at the same time and now everything was messed up and they could already feel his touches even through the bag and the first impression Virgil would gave to them was ‘That anxious, weird boy and his creepy, sweaty hands’ and-

A girl almost hit him as she passed running at his side, making his arms protectively hug further the teddy bears closer to him, arms protectively involving them, the soft touch somehow calming his tumulted thoughts. The lost man took a deep breath.

Clear your mind. Rational thoughts. Focus on the two sides of the coin. Three people wouldn’t be able to break a millennial, unknown system, don’t matter how good he was in screwin… No, a voice that sounded suspiciously a lot like his psychologist calmly pointed, not like that. Virgil huffed, trying again. He was a magnet of problems and bad…Okay, also wrong. Neutral thoughts, focus on neutral thoughts. Come on. Come on.

It was okay.

They wouldn’t feel him until they gave the first step. Right, that… sounded like a start. He didn’t do anything. Now, what Virgil needed to do was go to his house, clean his bed in order to find a good place where he could put and ignore them and then he would get his headphones, listen his playlists and wonder where the fuck his life was going.

It was okay. Everything would stay okay as long as he didn’t give the First Step.

Virgil unconsciously hugged tighter the teddy bears, his fingers finding way and drowning themselves in the soft, cozy fur, combing them in light, soothing touches as he continued his way.

Okay. Everything was okay.

[~*~]

Plurinfanto, or Multiple Souls, it’s the nomination used for the cases when a person has diverse soulmates at the same time and in a same period.

The first known case was with Pharaoh Cleopatra when multiples of her woolen fabric started to dye themselves in various colors and shades. In Ancient Roman, it was believed that the occurrences were blessings from Venus in a sign of prosperity and abundance. Grand, longstanding parties were executed through days nonstop in order to get together those intertwined souls. When the connection broke and the colors disappeared, it meant that days of pain and foreboding were waiting forward.

It is not known for certain the exact moment when the meaning changed, albeit researchers believe it was around the fall of the Roman Empire, when all the invasions resulted in a cultural reconstruction which led to the loss from much of their costumes.

CLICK HERE TO DISCOVER HOW TO HAVE THE SOULMATE OF YOUR DREAMS!!!!

[~*~]

The computer made a soft ‘click’ as Virgil closed it and sat on his bed, adjusting slightly his position to stare the three vivid, brilliant stuffed beings contrasting to the general dark theme of his room.

Virgil growled, resting his back on the cold wall, the shivers calming his flowing thoughts about all the variants this whole thing had. No to mention that people change with time, leading to the souls who they “relate” to change as well, meaning that you can have someone in your life for years and then, one month, or weeks or the next day, you can wake up only to discover you and the said person don’t “match” anymore.

And NO ONE talked about this just because it was a freak tabu to doesn’t have ‘an only one soulmate who will be with you until the end of your existence’. Oh, for fuck sake. Virgil ran his hand through his hair, wincing when he accidently pulled some tangled strands. That sounds like a line of commercial, does anyone believe that bullshit for real?

“Hello dear, newer fellow!!” The popping thought broke his line of reasoning, jumping excitedly in his mind and automatically pulling him out of his wanders. It has a strong and full of… about everything, tune demanding attention. Virgil felt a warm kiss on his forehead, meaning one soulmate – a deep part of him turned his attention to the red colored teddy bear, - had given the First Step. The one who in some moment changed his position so now he was sitting on the floor felt his face get hot again, heart thumping strongly in his chest as his arm moved, fingers stopping inches away from the fur, questioning if he was ready to retribute the gesture.

[~*~]

Many history icons have reports of being Pluriers, as shown in the book ‘The Romance in the History of Those Who Wrote It’, by historian Henry Senyura. The subject is also beginning to gain more visibility after the protest from the teacher Joan A. in 2010, who got touched towards the situation of some of her pupils being forced to choose only one among their Soulmates for the six-month annual exchange, by the end of that period most of them lost or weakened their bonding due lack of communication, small changes of personality and continuous absence. She held a protest at the front of the school, stating that no one had the right to interfere in ‘matters of the heart’.

A lot of fiction works are beginning to address the topic more frequently, as in I’m Not One, a movie directed by Devon Stan; The Seven Colors of Rainbow, a book written by Lílian Lee and the psychological analysis Life’s Watch, recently found between drafts by the famous writer Robin Green, published after their husband’s authorization, Josué Green.

[~*~]

Logan hummed. As it seems, this was a relatively common thing, since the concept of Soul Mates surpassed the barriers of unity and time, being ‘souls who in a way or other intertwined themselves in some part of their life. Sometimes it didn’t necessarily mean a romantic relationship, as the majority of society and media pointed, but it also didn’t hold any assurance that all of them were platonic.

He massaged the bridge of his nose. Remy wasn’t in the dorm so everything was silent enough for him to hear his own thoughts.

It has been a remarkable amount of years since he got his last soulmates, - except for Remy, however they both considered this occurrence as a separate incident - well, until, of course, this day. At least it was a good thing he always carried in his bag extra easy manageable stuffed animals or else maybe the System would dye one of clothes, what would be less than ideal for him in the middle of his philosophy debate. But things got even more interesting when, after his classes, as he arrived at the small, pleasantly well-organized store next to his university, one more stuffed animal colored itself right before him.

He didn’t exactly understand why. Logan considered himself an owner of a… quite strong, strict personality, this added with his difficulty in managing his and one another emotions usually tended to bring some complex tribulations in his rela-

Anyway, that is beside the important matter. The one laying his chin on his crossed fingers undid his pose for a bite of time in order to adjust his glasses, barely fixating his gaze on the two plushies in the desk before him, his third – Pat - resting a few centimeters away, closer to Logan’s fingers, who were barely touching. Mind running. Asking, reflecting, wondering what was the exact amount of time to be acceptable to give his First Step?

‘The First Step’.

Logan never really understood from where and how that expression emerged. It didn’t come from the words’ etymology nor some semantic detour. His most concrete hypothesis consisted of the phrase being derived from old romances.

“Did you know it used to be called the ‘First Kiss’?! But that confused a lot of people who really believed that, to be able to talk and interact with their soulmates they would have to kiss each other, like the Sleeping Beauty! I always got confused in this movie when I was a child, by the way! That ended up messing with a bunch of relationships before they even started, since a lot of peeps don’t feel comfortable enough with strangers kissing them. However, they also speeded up a bunch of them as well…” Logan blinked, his attention escaping from his previous thoughts to the light sky blue plushie of Baby Yoda, for a moment surprised with the sudden input. He felt fingers carefully holding his arms and a bit of ghost movements as Pat probably moved his representation to somewhere else, a hug and warmth engulfing the one yet absolving the new information moments later.

“That was… enlightening.” His voice danced across the room. Even though he was completely aware they could chat telepathically, the childish act of saying the words out loud still comforted him, in a way. “Thank you for your contribution.”

He took a deep breath and closed the tab of research on his cellphone, internally thanking from the escaping of his turmoil of thoughts, his free hand carefully combing the Baby Yoda’s head fur, almost methodic.

“Looo, no!” The other protested with no heat in his tune, leading a toothless smile to resurface in Logan’s features. “Stop doing this. You know I end up sleeping every time!”

“Oh no, what a tragedy.” He deadpanned, already plugging his phones and changing to a most relaxed position on his chair, his eyes traveling across the countless movies on the device before him. “In which episode did we stop?”

“I’m going to fight you.” Pat sounded like he was pouting.

“How so?” Logan asked, trying to hide his amusement.

Silence followed his words.

“Pat?”

“What is the skeleton’s favorite instrument?”

“Pat, don’t you fucking da-”

“Language! It’s a xiloBONE!”

Logan audible growled, fast in his final decision. “I’m going to drop you out the window.”

“I’m going to hug you!” And immediately the one rolling his eyes felt himself being squished in a strong bear hug, huffing only half annoyed.

“You are an incorrigible heathen, let me go in this exact instant.” His answer was a ‘butterfly kiss’ – as Pat was fond in calling them – on his forehead. “Urg, affection.” Yet he smiled and mirrored the act, lightly poking the other’s side.

“We’re on episode 19.”

[~*~]

Roman stared the paper, his pencil’s tip stopped in the middle of the biggest petal’s flower, his eyes narrowing in the hope of a clearest way of how to convert the vague idea he had in transforming the night full of stars in a flower. No to tell he also would need to choose a good pallet of colors indication for it, later, and probably re-do all the process over and over and over until got the best result as possible. A yawn found its way from his lips and the designer stretched, getting up to drink a bit of water and rubbing his eyes, wondering if it was really worth it to make a black tea to help him through the night.

A glimpse of color caught his attention. The navy blue teddy bear on his couch, the main inspiration of his newest tattoo. Roman wondered why it wasn’t resting in front of him while he drew. A corner of his brain, obscured by the tiredness, telling he had a previous good reason for this choice although his actual self carried absolutely no idea of why.

Well, if he couldn’t remember it, it means the reason wasn’t THAT good, right?

Roman held the stuffed animal, spinning with it across the room for a couple of minutes, imagining who would be the person behind it. A king, a queen, a non-binary royalty? Did they like Disney? Musicals? Sing? Would they chat for hours at first with a few words exchanged or would they take a bit to warm at each other? Was navy blue their favorite color or…

Or…

Navy blue.

Oh.

He fixed his glare on the plushie, his hands feeling and slowly drawing in the soft fur of it.

Navy blue, huh? A humorless chuckled flew in the air. It could have no significance, it could be a world of it. It probably didn’t mean what he, for a moment, a so silly, stupid moment, wished it meant. Of course, one day this would happen, right? It was something normal, something expected. Not the magical, right out of the story books or his old daydreams, occurrence.

This wasn’t a second chance. The Universe doesn’t give you second chances. He wasn’t the same boy from eleven years ago, holding his own costumed teddy bear crying his eyes out, hugging he – No, it – the closest as possible, wishing with all his heart and soul for the color, the voice, the thoughts, the rambling, their bickering, the forgiveness to come back again.

No, he grew up. He moved on. He got better.

Then why did a part of him still felt this way? Like he was about to hear the excited giggles, the soft reprimand, that lovely, deep and so truly -and sometimes boring, Roman had to admit – questions? Why would a part of him still say that he could have it all again if he just… waited long enough, hoped high enough, dreamed long enough…

…If he was enough.

There aren’t more than seven billion colors in the world. Roman would be stupid if he really believed there was a path where he wouldn’t stumble in that so (un)fortunate well-known shade of blue again.

Roman growled, his forehead making a loud, dry thumping sound as hit his desk. The one who should be asleep hours ago had absolutely no energy to battle against those thoughts, again. At least for now. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the teddy bear laid on the cold tabletop before him. Well, what a better way to get rid of your own means thoughts than put some stranger’s unpredictable thoughts in the middle of it? Roman slightly pushed the bunch of flowers and some warmup sketches he had out of the way, carefully carrying the representation next to him, nodding. Honestly, that was the best idea he had for a while, why did he even put the lovely thing away?

Awake Roman was so silly, thinking that… something he couldn’t quite recall right now would be a bad idea, he pointed as snorted softly, pressing his lips on the teddy’s forehead, the quote he knew by heart flying from them in a natural flow.

“It is not immortal, since it’s flame. But let it be infinite while it lasts.”

A warm sensation rested on his own forehead moments later, leading the sleepy form to hum happily.

“Is it… poetry?” Oh shit, Roman widened his eyes. His soulmate heard that?? Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Roman mentally facepalmed himself. So that was why he usually said it before the First Step!

“Uhh, yeah. Of course. Fidelity Sonnet by Vinícius Moraes.”

“I see. Classicism, I presume. A literature of very soundly pleasant rhymes, indeed. The first sonnet was probably created by the humanist Italian poet Francesco Petrarca, although it got even more known in the western literature after the works of Camões, who- ”

“He is from Modernism, actually.” Roman didn’t know why he suddenly sounded so defensive. Logan felt a cold feeling run his body when the other’s hands let go of him, for a piece of second wondering if it was supposed for him to do the same with the red narwhal plushie on his hold.

“A very common mistake to make due the lack of context.” He retorted, unable to formulate another answer. He had, of course, thought, balanced options and chosen the best topics to discuss with his new soulmates when they bonded. However, his fingers firmly gripped the pen, its tip tapping on the first topic written in the notebook partially forgotten in front of him, the poetry figuratively threw him out of his tracks, leading the decision to be the most impartial as possible due his… not so impartial past memories with that specific shade of red an even more difficult task than it already was.

“Yes. Sure. Sorry, I- I’m just… very tired right now.”

“You should go sleep, then.”

The other snorted with the direct, immediate response. “I should, shouldn’t I? Gotta work, though.”

Some part of Logan’s brain registered the new fact, separating and keeping it in a special place so he would remember to write it down in the new folder he bought, later.

“I see.” … poetry? That wasn’t a hard topic to talk about. The one now nervously cleaning the very clear lenses twisted his mouth. He could talk about this for hours. No, correction: he already had previously talked about this for hours non stop.

Logan strangely felt the urge to rub his face and scream. It has been years, - eleven years and 10 months to be precise – and exactly eight years since the one wearing glasses learned poetry because of him. Because of his constant habit of reciting Shakespeare before they would go to bed, until Logan brought himself to research and decorate all the poems he could muster, taking the task to now wake Prince – the name still carried a strong taste in his tongue – in the same way every single day. Before they realize, that becomes something between them. There were times when both didn’t talk, content in only reciting some verses and hear the other complete them. A part of Logan, that illogical and unfortunately full of feelings one wondered how their rap battles would be if they found each other right now.

Did Prince even maintain his liking the same things he one day did? Does he still recite poetry? Does he maintain the same dreams? The same habits? Does he even remember about him?

Highly improbable.

“You can call me Lo.”

Roman slowly blinked, getting out the fog surrounding his brain to realize he was mindless staring at the pan’s boiling water, surprised the other still there. Well, it seems like he hasn't screwed terribly everything yet.

“Lo? Like Lowrance?”

“Even though my name does contain ‘Lo’ in it, no. It’s ‘Lo’ like Logic. I came to believe it’s a good idea the nomination after a predominant characteristic, since we can’t actively exchange our real names through the Soulmate System.”

Roman’s breath hitched, a memory with yellow-ish edges and nostalgic smell unrolling in front of him.

…

‘I think we should choose you a name with more personality in it, ya know?’ He threw himself on his bed, kicking his legs on the air before immediately scoping the plushie and laying it on his stomach. ‘Like a characteristic!’

‘I don’t see what is wrong with the nickname I choose.’

‘No, no! There is nothing wrong with it! But that could be something just between us!’ Then he gasped, picturing that, if he was inside a movie there would be a lamp shining right above his hair in this moment. ‘We could call you Ro!! You wanted to be a robot, right?’

His soulmate growled and Roman felt a few pokes on his arm, the verbal protest doesn’t taking long before accompanying it. ‘I was three years old!’

‘And I’m never letting you live this down.’ He beamed, both knowing the annoyed scoff he got as response held no real heat. ‘Besides, we could even match our names!!’

‘That would be very counterproductive.’ Roman felt his hair being softly smoothed, a usual indication the other was losing himself in his thoughts. ‘Nicknames are supposed to help us. Having two equal names is not the most efficient thing.’

Roman dramatically scoffed, picking the stuffed animal and half hugging it, his free hand occupying itself in making a couple of gestures to no one, since his soulmate couldn’t exactly see them. ‘It’s not about being productive, Bear! It’s about feelings!!’

‘And since when,’ a light poke was delivered on his belly, making him squeak and mess with the teddy bear’s hair in revenge ‘Everything isn’t feelings for you, your highness?’

…

“Okay,” Roman and his self past disappearing with the fading memory said, in synchrony “You shall call me by Prince, then.”

Suddenly he felt himself falling, his hands quickly holding on the tabletop as the cold, nauseous feeling took over his stomach, more like a punch on it, his veins being filled with amounts of adrenaline for a glimpse of a second.

“Excuse me? Warn a guy next time you decide to just drop his representation, dude! Damn.” Roman shook himself, trying to bring his body to calm down.

“Sorry, I got… startled.” Logan gulped. The word ‘Prince’ echoing on his mind as a broken vinyl disc. What were the chances? That couldn’t be such a common nickname, right? Nor color. Nor interests. What were the chances? What could be the chances? Maybe he was just projecting, being played, tricked by a dangerous partnership between his own brain and emotions. Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions due the nostalgic feeling fogging his actions, his thoughts. Perhaps-

“Hey, Lo? Are you there?”

“Yes.” Logan answered, his fingertips colliding quickly with the fabric of his pants as he visualized his options. “Yes, I am.”

“Hm. Okay, then. I’m… glad to know.”

Silence. Logan took a wobbly breath.

“Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back; Wherein he puts alms for oblivion; A great-size monster of ingratitudes:”

“Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd; As fast as they are made, forgot as soon.” Roman continued without even noticing until the words danced in the air, just like the years haven’t passed.

Then he understood.

His heart stopped for a second, his eyes widening and his voice disappearing, as if his whole being was afraid to break the moment, the spell; as if this was a dream and a miscalculate step would make everything fade.

“Bear?” Roman felt a light poke on his cheek.

“Hello, Prince.”

Roman choked a laugh, quickly crawling the teddy bear next to his chest, hugging it both firmly and yet so caring, curling around its - no, him - feeling an equal warmth involve his form as he hided his face on the soft fur, giggling and hugging, feeling so happy, so alive and right and good and he would never, ever, ever again let him go.

“I missed you, bitch. Never scare me like this again.”

“I… missed you, as well.” Logan tried to not let the emotion take over his tune, his hand petting the narwhal plushie softly, the words had abandoning him, as it seems. “This reunion is a… good surprise.”

“Oh, shut up, I know you’re having a blast somewhere in that logic soul of yours, too.”

Logan huffed, grinning. “Stop crying on my hair, your troglodyte.”

“Make me, I dare you.”

“Always so dramatic.” They both rolled their eyes, letting the moment be bathed in the deep waters of a comfortable silence.

“Eleven years.”

“We have so, so much to talk about!! Oh, my goodness gracious, I’m going to get my tea. Do you remember about that play I wrote about zombie princes and a dragon witch? You will NOT fucking believe what happened with it!”

“Good thing I have you to explain to me then.” Roman stopped, a gigantic smile taking over his features as he closed his eyes to feel everything even more.

“Yeah, I agree.”

Somewhere in the world Patton and Virgil smiled during their sleep, unable to control themselves when a gigantic wave of pure joy and delight filled every corner of their hearts, coloring it on the most brilliant gleam, just like their stuffed animals resting peacefully on their grip.

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redslilstories · 4 years

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If it's love

Author: lilyme (aka. redslilpictures aka me ;)) Summary: Set sometime after 16x16. Callie and Arizona receive some upsetting news. But it is their place to be upset about it? Characters: Callie/Arizona, Sofia Rating: PG Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, nor do I own any rights to the television show "Grey's Anatomy". They were created by Shonda Rhimes and belong to her and the ABC network. No copyright infringement intended! All mistakes are mine.

About to enter the house, Callie was startled by her energetic daughter yanking open the front door and jumping out.

"Hi, Mama!" Sofia gifted her mother with a sideways hug, her head already on an entirely different matter, "I'm gonna feed the chicken and see, if they have any eggs for breakfast!"

"Okay," Callie smiled at the eagerness of her offspring and went inside. How anyone genetically related to her could be this perky in the morning, was a mystery to her. She herself most of the time was as cranky as a bear at this time of day.

But she knew whose notoriously good morning mood had rubbed off on the girl and soon found the perkiness personified in the kitchen of the house that kind of resembled this attitude as well. With its light colors, flowery decorations and overall pretty girly atmosphere.

It was the house Arizona had chosen to live in, and it fit her like a shoe. Including the coop full of chicken she had always dreamed of.

Callie had a mixed relationship with the fowl. The rooster of the bunch, King Louie, always tried to peck her, but only her. The chicks, Dolores, Selma and Agneta were nice enough, though. And the smallest of them, little Betty, seemed pretty fond of her and came fluttering over whenever she neared the coop. Which itself was a rare event, but if she did, she always found herself giggling at the little thing's antics.

The chicken owner smiled as she took notice of the woman's presence. "Hi! Did you get everything?" the blonde wondered, as she bustled about the kitchen.

"Uh, yeah, I did," Callie replied and held up two paper bags with freshly baked goods. "Even got some raspberry cream cheese danish". She knew they were Arizona's favorites, but not always available... because they were a lot of other people's favorite as well.

"Aww, you're so sweet," Arizona gushed, as she followed Callie into the dining room, where the brunette was arranging the assorted roll, croissants and danish on the table.

Since Arizona had relocated to New York as well, this Sunday breakfast was their weekly ritual. With their always busy schedules, caught between school, work and research, Sunday was often the only day that all three of them had off.

And they made sure to make the most of it. Callie bringing goods from the bakery, Sofia fetching eggs and Arizona preparing them a yummy breakfast they'd enjoy in all length together and talk about what was happening in their lives right now. Things Sofia was doing in school, talks about their projects at work and everything else they had on their minds.

And from the pensive look Callie wore on her face this morning, Arizona knew there was something massive on her mind right now.

"You look... kinda perturbed," Arizona tried carefully as she watched the brunette from the entrance to the room. She had known Callie long enough to notice that furrow in her brow. Even having been divorced for years she had never lost that ability to read her. Where other people maybe even saw a neutral expression, she could detect the slightest disturbance in her mood.

"Hm?" Callie looked up at the alarmed woman, smiling lightly at the blond emotion detector. Always on the lookout for the well-being of the people around her. A trait Callie had never failed to appreciate - even during their rockier phases. And now that they were on good terms again and she had Arizona as a constant presence in her life once more, she rarely hesitated to express her thoughts. "Oh, I just got a mail from Mer this morning. About things happening in Seattle and stuff".

"Huh," Arizona nodded at the explanation. They still kept in contact with their friends on the West Coast, as much as time and distance allowed.

Arizona still held pretty close bonds with April. April, who had settled in nicely with Matthew, Harriet, Ruby and their newborn son Philip and was living an uneventful and simple life.

And both of them still heard regularly from Teddy, Meredith and the others. But news from that front often more or less equaled a soap opera. A not necessarily well-written soap opera with too much what-the-heck drama and too many you've-got-to-be-kidding-me twists and turns for the worse. It would actually be funny to witness the ridiculousness of it all, if it wasn't happening in real life.

"Is something wrong?" Arizona subsequently wondered, and pushed herself off the door frame as Callie pulled out her phone, apparently willing to let her read the mail as well.

The brunette handed her phone after a few taps and Arizona began reading unusually long text, bordering on a rant she had received from Meredith.

And then she watched as Arizona read it, expecting to find the same emotions she had felt overcoming the blonde. Emotions of disbelief and a good part of anger.

After walking the length of the living room a few times while studying the text intensely, the blonde retreated to the couch, her face still surprisingly neutral. Eventually she let the phone sink into her lap and spoke softly, "Well... that's a major plot twist," her eyes still on the words written.

Callie was confused by Arizona's calmness. "Wh... That's all you're gonna say to that?" she asked as she sat next to the blonde.

"Well...," Arizona muttered, confronted with upset Callie, "as his mentor, I hope he finds a hospital that can really appreciate the outstanding doctor he's become," she spoke with a little sentiment, as she thought back on the years she had trained the man Meredith's elaborate text was about in peds.

Alex Karev had without a warning decided to leave behind Seattle and everything he had there to start a new life in the middle of nowhere. Or – as it was officially called - Kansas.

A move that in itself would be difficult to understand, since he had a promising career set in Seattle. But apparently there were reasons not in anyone else's control.

"As his friend...," she continued with a shrug, "I hope he'll find all the happiness he deserves. Though I have to say that ditching Jo via letter is so...," she shook her head, and finally Callie could see some emotion bubbling up in her, "God, I feel so awful for her. Believe me, if I had a brick right now, I'd hit him in the head from here!"

"Yeah!" Callie sighed, relieved that she herself wasn't just overreacting about all this, but that his behavior towards Jo really was a low blow.

Callie had seen him grow, witnessed the transformation from a fairly douchy intern who didn't particularly care about the women he slept with to not only a well-respected surgeon but also a man who had truly learned to invest into his relationships and cherish them.

And she knew that Arizona had witnessed it all even closer, having spent years working with him side by side on a daily basis. It had to be a letdown. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the blonde's grip tighten around her phone as the woman's thoughts now clearly circled around this upsetting new development. Carefully she wrangled the device out of the tense fingers before it met its fate as a substitute brick.

Arizona looked at the brunette and saw the mildly warning look telling her to let her phone live and released it with a faint smile. "It's a load of crap," she summed up her thoughts about Alex and Jo. Jo, who had also become a much beloved friend to her over the years. Their wedding... or rather all the mishaps happening on the day of their wedding... were among the last active memories she had of Seattle, with her and Sofia having left later that night to come to New York. Now she thought that maybe all the hindrances that day had been a sign for them. That some Powers that Be didn't think they belonged together. And rather wanted him in someone else's arms. "But... I don't know... if Izzie makes him happy..."

Immediately Callie scoffed beside her, and Arizona pressed her lips together. She knew Izzie was a sore spot for Callie. Understandably, after all the humiliation she has had to face back at the hospital in Seattle because of her. And that didn't even only involve Izzie sleeping with George.

And then there was everything else... "The way she's treated Alex... I mean, she's left him in debt with her hospital bills and just disappeared. That's not what you do. I know how long it's taken him to get out of that and get over her. And now he's going back to the person who's hurt him more than anyone?" she shook her head before letting herself sink against the backrest of the couch. "I don't see why. Think he's just doing it for the kids?" she wondered about the twins that Izzie has apparently given birth to five years ago.

She looked expectantly at Arizona, who had turned towards her and sat with her leg bent, her head braced on her fist and her face... sporting two raised eyebrows and a pensive look.

Callie countered the expression with a soft "What...?", unsure of what it was supposed to tell her.

"You know... that a lot of that is exactly what can be said about us, right?" Arizona voiced her thoughts carefully.

"What...!?" Callie repeated, though fairly shriller now, startled at the statement her girlfriend suddenly confronted her with. "We're not... I...," she stammered as she sat up, afraid that Arizona still held a grudge against her. Even though she had reassured her that she didn't.

"Easy, sweetie...," Arizona tried to calm her with a hand to her thigh. She knew what Callie wanted to say. "I'm don't mean the fight over Sofia's custody. Though it was... really painful for all of us," she exhaled deeply, thinking back on it.

And Callie bowed her head, not able to look the blonde into the eye. Because she knew she was the main cause for all that pain, having had her lawyer throw the worst accusations at her then ex in court.

"I...," Arizona continued, "there are the things that let up to that... The way I treated you after my amputation. The way I yelled at you, threw things at you, verbally and literally... It was a low that I never thought I could reach. But then... I cheated on you. And I realized I could go even lower. And I will forever hate myself for that," her voice trembled.

Callie looked back up at the blonde, who was obviously struggling to keep her emotions in check as she remembered that time. That time she had broken her ever-so-supportive wife. And Callie remembered too. It was something that still hurt her deeply.

"That you were even willing to start new with me then... after the damage I've done... it was more than I could have hoped for," Arizona began to sob, as her tears finally overwhelmed her, and Callie cupped her hand in comfort, wanting to show her that everything was okay now.

Only to have Arizona's train of thought steer back to where it had taken off. "But I guess we weren't ready then and it consequently ended in divorce... with all its unfortunate consequences. And a lot of people would say that it all should have ended there. That we are just no good for each other".

"But who are they to judge?" Callie protested, her face a whirl of confusion and fear, still not sure where Arizona was going with this.

No one else had a saying in their being together. Yes, part of her was scarred from the betrayal. And she knew Arizona was still reeling from the custody battle too... among other things. But they had learned to cope over the years. And had even learned to heal.

And when the blonde turned her hands in Callie's to clasp them with a teary smile and replied "That's what I mean," Callie finally realized her intentions. "We've made mistakes. It's blatantly obvious, and we both know it. But... the moment Sof and I landed in New York, and I saw you standing there, smiling impossibly wide not at her, but at me... I just...I knew it had been the right decision," Arizona remembered the first time she had seen the brunette after over a year of having only communicated via texts and phone calls. "That I was coming home".

And while Callie had changed, most obviously her hair style, now cut short and shaved on the sides, she was still the same woman Arizona had fallen in love with way, way back in Seattle.

Callie smiled at this, remembering how elated she had been when Arizona had told her, Sofia would come back to New York. That she would finally be with her daughter again. And she remembered her nervousness at hearing that Arizona would accompany her. Unsure of how the blonde stood towards her. After all, Arizona was giving up her established life because Callie had fled to the East Coast to pursue a relationship that had failed after only seven months. It could be cause for resentment.

But seeing Arizona again in person and hearing how excited she was, it had calmed her. And listening to her tell her about everything she had planned for her new life and showing true interest in everything the brunette had experienced in New York so far... Callie had known it would be good.

As it turned out better than good.

While their main priority was Sofia and the girl's well-being in her old, new, old life in New York, this priority had inevitably drawn Callie and Arizona closer again. In the first two months in New York they had spent more time together than in the two years between their separation and Callie moving to New York.

First as parents, then as friends.

And at some point the friendly parents had remembered what they had once loved about the other. And still loved.

Of course there had been trepidation about starting anew. After all, they had already screwed up massively and made life impossibly hard on so many people. Especially Sofia.

But with exactly that past, they were wiser now and knew what it took to make it work. Talking to each other, listening to what the other woman was saying, and also get help from outside, if necessary.

And so far they were doing extremely well.

Arizona's heart smiled as she saw Callie relax visibly. Now that it was clear to the brunette that they weren't in any trouble. That this was the opposite of trouble.

She cupped Callie's cheek. "I still you so much. More than ever before," she reassured Callie. "You make me happier than anyone else ever could. Despite what other people might think. They aren't important. We are. We belong together. And there's really no one else I'd want to spend my life with".

"I love you too," Callie whimpered and leaned forward to engulf her love in a fierce hug, so grateful to have Arizona back in her life. Despite all the evils that had happened to them and that they had partly afflicted on each other. But Arizona was right. They belonged together, despite their past. "And I'm so happy to have you back," she continued, and received reassuring kisses to her cheek.

It was only two months ago that Callie and Arizona had moved into Arizona's dream house. And while the situation was still somewhat new, and she was still getting used to its girly charm and the pecking of King Louie, she never wanted to leave this place anymore,

Because it held her love. It held her life. Her dream.

"So... Alex and Izzie... think you can handle it?" Arizona questioned as she eventually released the brunette.

"Hm," Callie pondered, "if she makes him happy, I guess" she simply returned, Arizona's reasoning that an outsider's opinion to this couple was not that relevant still in her ear. "Plus, it's not like I have to interact with her. Kansas is far enough, luckily. Though I have to say, I'd love to meet the kids".

Arizona laughed at this. "I know! If his genes hit through, they're probably pretty..."

"... grumpy, smart-ass and foul-mouthed?" Callie offered tongue-in-cheek.

"I was gonna say, quite a handful. But... yeah, that works," Arizona giggled. "But definitely adorable".

"Mami, Mama! I got some eggs!" Sofia came rushing inside with a little basket containing four eggs. "And I fed the chicken too. But Selma and King Louie weren't hungry. I think they were playing piggyback. Or they are making a baby chicken. Which is... eww...," she exclaimed.

The women laughed wholeheartedly at their girl. Sofia knew all about the birds and the bees, the roosters and the hens or the mamas and the daddies by now. And while she was fascinated by the concept of creating life, the way to make it happen pretty much appalled her.

Which Callie and Arizona were very okay with. At her age of eight, turning nine soon, they much preferred that attitude over too much curiosity about the act itself.

Eventually that would come, and they knew that in a few years from now they would be having a more serious talk about how human babies were made. Arizona had already joked that they'd probably decide over a party of Rock, Paper, Scissors about whether her or Callie would have to have that talk with their daughter.

But they were so happy they could experience Sofia grow up and learn new things every day together.

They had been given this new chance. And they worked every day to cherish this chance, despite outside opinions.

They wanted to be their best together. And they wanted to be their best for their kid.

And that made them understand Alex' motivations. His need to be with his kids. And his need to be together with the woman he had learned to love again despite their past.

And despite ambivalent thoughts they had on it all, they wished him all the best.

END

#callie torres #arizona robbins #sofia robbin sloan torres #Calzona #calzona fanfiction #calzona in new york #Team Calzona #calzona forever #family #love

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sergeant-donny-donowitz · 5 years

Text

The Traitor and The Bear Jew (Inglourious Basterds Imagine: Donny Donowitz x Fem!Reader)

Requested by @svonschroeder! (Thanks for being the first to submit one, it means a lot!)

"TEDDY FUCKING WILLIAMS KNOCKS IT OUT OF THE PARK! FENWAY PARK ON ITS FEET FOR TEDDY FUCKIN' BALLGAME! HE WENT YARD ON THAT ONE, OUT TO FUCKIN' LANSDOWNE STREET..." Donny barely glanced at the remaining enemies. He wasn't wasting time, after all, a basterd’s work was never done. He looked at one of the nazis. He was a man, crying and shaking in the face of the Bear Jew’s justice. "YOU." The Nazi's futile attempt to escape was shot down by Hirschberg's gun.

"Damn it, Hirschberg."

Aldo sighed... He was hoping to get something useful out of their captive audience...and they were running out of them.

He chewed on his sandwich and looked at you, half annoyed, mostly disinterested. "Bring the girl."

Donny glanced to the remaining nazis. You were among them. But you were anything but a nazi.

In fact, you were a traitor.

At least...to the nazi high command.

In the brief instant that Donny looked to the survivors, he saw something he'd never seen before. He'd heard of laughing in the face of death. In fact, it was one of the Basterds' favorite past times, but no one, not a single soul, living or dead, had ever smiled in the face of the Bear Jew's wrath.

Not like you.

At best, you were a traitor to the nazis, and you expected that at some point you would be killed for your pursuit of justice and revenge.

At worst, your charade and double life would be too convincing to the basterds, and you'd be seen as just another enemy.

Your truth, your story was nothing but a rumor trickling down the OSS lines.

You were a German, but you were no nazi. You were young, but you remembered a time where the world was a big place. There were no tanks, no raids. Friends, families, cities weren't divided by rallies and hatred... People didn't disappear in the middle of the night. Entire communities weren’t slaughtered... Neighbors didn’t betray each other. They invited each other over for dinner. They went to clubs together. Swing wasn’t outlawed then. Humanity wasn’t seen as a weakness. Schools were full. Shop windows weren’t broken or vandalized. Entire neighborhoods didn’t just disappear...

You remembered a world where there was justice.

And when that world collapsed, when your best friend was murdered for her faith, when your neighbors vanished, when everything changed, you did too. You became a traitor in a heartbeat. If you had to die a traitor trying to restore that world, you would.

And by the looks of it, you were going to.

And you were going out watching the infamous basterds.

You joined the nazis, but you used their information against them. You tended to have an easier time gaining officers’ trust, and it doomed them. You usually rummaged through their documents as your gun was still smoking, or you rknife still dripping, searching for leads that could save a life. You used them to warn, and save Jews. You'd done it for years. You always anticipated dying before the war’s end, but you pictured it a different way: against a wall, facing a firing squad back in Germany.

This was not it.

No one would ever know your story... just a distant memory of those you saved, and you accepted that.

You could plead. You could tell the basterds the whole story... the truth...but it was far too good to be true.

Who would believe a word from a person a step away death? You wouldn’t lie, that wasn't the problem, it was that they wouldn't believe.

You tested that theory. You made it short and sweet. You told Wicki you were infiltrating Werner’s team, and you were a traitor to the nazis. You’d helped save dozens of Jews in the past year alone.

Unfortunately, your theory was right, as you observed Aldo the Apache sighing in disbelief, and Wicki's amusement in translating what he believed was utter bullshit.

You glanced at the other basterds, now that a gun wasn't directly trained on you.

You glanced up to a higher ledge...and spotted an old friend. It had been quite some time...

Hugo Stiglitz.

You were friends, once. Long ago, long before the war. You were just teenagers then. You walked to school every day of your lives, your mothers were best friends. You were there the day he became an orphan. You were always there for each other back then. But, once the nazis took over, you were both older, you'd been distanced for some time because you’d chosen a different university, your jobs never matched up... And then he joined the Gestapo. You avoided him. You hated him. You could never stand to see him.

You didn't know he waited in the market every Saturday, just for a chance to tell you the truth. Just for a chance to see his last true friend. He was certain you'd understand...But you never showed up.

Six years had passed. He didn't recognize you. You weren't surprised. He was always a clueless boy...

And...you weren't quite the same either. You had short brown hair when you last saw each other. You were once a ballerina, you played the violin and dreamed of a quiet life in a small town. You traded your ballet slippers and bow for a sniper and a pack.

You were a little taller, your build was more of a warrior than a ballerina after carrying a pack and a burden for years. You couldn’t simply claim to know him. After all, Werner was right. Everyone in the German army had heard of Hugo Stiglitz. You’d changed your name to cover your tracks after one botched kill, and your dogtag couldn’t prove your true identity.

Still, you were you at heart. No one could deny that. “Ask her about them Germans in the orchard. I needa know ‘bout them snipers. How many there are, what they got on ‘em.” Wicki translated, though you didn’t need it, you thought it might be rude to point it out after all that time. The truth was, you didn’t know about the troops up the road, and you told them so. Again, it was too good to be true. Aldo sighed, “God damn it. Donny!” You lowered your head, ready to accept your death as you were thrown to your knees, at the mercy of the one they called Donny.

You bit your bottom lip with a sigh as you looked at the man about to murder you, with nothing but respect and admiration in your eyes as you glanced at the bat with the names.

Donny looked at you. He shifted for a moment. He hesitated. He blinked forcefully, and shook his head once. "Come on, Donny."

Still, he looked back at Aldo. Donny never thought he'd hesitate in killing a nazi. He'd never killed a woman before, but...a nazi was a nazi.

He looked you in the eyes. He saw something he didn’t see in Werner’s eyes, or in the eyes of any nazi he'd encountered before: a soul.

He saw humanity. In the depths of your eyes, he saw the mischievous threads of a cunning mind. He saw an honorable acceptance of fate. It wasn’t a psychotically blood-driven acceptance of death for your country like Werner’s. In his eyes, Donny didn't see "bravery," he saw blankness.

Yours were human.

You didn't glare into Donny's eyes like Werner did. You didn’t look down at the ground and stain it with your tears like Private Butz did.

You looked toward the horizon, west, toward the freedom you have to others, and the freedom you were willing to die for as a traitor.

All you could hear was your own heartbeat, and the slight breeze tussling the leaves.

Then, you heard the lieutenant's voice, "Last chance soldier," followed by Wicki's translation. "Er sagt eine letzte Chance, Soldat."

You were silent for a moment. Your eyes sauntered from the horizon, back to Donny's.

He couldn't help but shift again, changing up his grip on the bat as he awaited Aldo’s instructions.

Donny gulped... something was different about you.

There was not a trace of cruelty in your eyes.

For a moment...he believed you. He believed every word of your story.

It was the truth after all, but...Aldo was older, and wise, and had a habit of reminding his men that if they hear a story too good to be true, ‘it ain’t.’

Donny clenched his teeth... bracing himself as a wave sympathy took him by surprise, something he'd never felt before.

But orders were orders...

He took a breath, and raised his bat as Aldo nodded to him. Your voice was soft, but wasn’t trembling. It was a small, simple request. You wanted to sound polite. You wanted to take that chance. "May I speak to Hugo?"

Your voice wasn't shaking in fear, it didn't reveal a tell in your state of mind, it didn't give way to a hateful rant. Donny froze, bat still in the air, eyes still trained on you.

The Basterd's stood still, unaware you were able to understand them the entire time.

Wicki was a little annoyed, admittedly.

Donny's arms had been hanging high, ready to swing... He lowered the bat, and stood in confusion.

Aldo raised an eyebrow, and lowered his sandwich for a moment.

Hugo took a step back. He turned to face you, he hadn’t quite been paying attention, being entertained by Donny beating nazis with a baseball bat, after all.

He knew the voice was familiar.

After he squinted, so was your face. Your hair was longer, and... blonde.... He'd never admit he thought it looked better before.

A few steps closer, and he saw a scar on your forearm. It had been there since you were kids, running around Frankfurt. You fell, skinned your knee and your arm that day.

He knew you.

He knew you too well. He knew you were telling the truth.

"Wait."

He slid down the ledge, and set his gun down as the basterds turned to him, "Donny, put the bat down."

"What?" Donny wasn't sure if he was more confused over what he was feeling, or because Hugo was speaking more...

Hugo wasn't playing. "The girl goes free."

The basterds by then knew better than to ever question Hugo Stiglitz.

He stood over you. It was you...it was definitely you, and he smiled. Hugo actually smiled, ashamed he hadn't known before, as he held his hand out, and pulled you to your feet, "Y/n..."

You smiled, "Hugo."

When you heard he was a traitor and what he really did in the gestapo, you cried. You should’ve known better, and you wished you'd spoken to him. You should’ve known he was better than that.

You should've known he was no more of a nazi than you were.

He smiled as you stood face to face, and he hugged you... You were taken aback, for a moment. You slowly reached your arms around him. It just wasn't a very Hugo thing to do. He wasn't much of a hugger, even before the war.

It was nice...

"What are you doing here?!" He gestured to your uniform. You smirked a little, and gestured to his basterd friends. "What are you doing here?" When you looked at the basterds, your gaze wandered over Donny for a moment longer....

Omar shook his head in confusion, "What's going on?!"

Hugo turned to the basterds. "Y/n is telling the truth. She's a friend...an old friend. I know her.” He glanced at you with a sly grin, “I know a traitor anywhere."

Utivich was still suspicious. "A traitor...what exactly did you do?"

Donny turned to look at you, a wave of relief cooling him down as he registered everything. It really was almost too good to be true.

But he was grateful it was true.

He listened to you. He listened to every word.

He loved it.

The way you moved, the way you spoke: the elegance in the words you chose, the almost shy smirk in the four letter words you knowingly dropped.

He hung on to every word that fell from your lips.

"I had to. I stole the lists, made copies of them. I'd figure out which Jewish families they were looking for next. I would sneak away, warn them, sometimes I'd lead them to German friends who would keep them safe. There were a few I was able to smuggle onto ships that would eventually take them to England. Had to kill a nazi or two along the way. For all intents and purposes, I am a traitor. I'm a fucking traitor, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

The basterds were amazed...

They liked you. You had guts, they had to admit.

Donny liked you... He liked every single thing about you. You had heart, you had guts, you definitely had brains. He liked the way you spoke. He liked the way you stood, brazen, and unmovable, like a rocky cliff facing the endless and brash ocean. He liked the way your eyes revealed your heart, and who you were.

He hated to admit it....but he might have fallen for you.

He was almost in a daze as you explained yourself.

He snapped back when Aldo rose to his feet, walked over and stood face to face with you. You weren't sure what to expect from the man from Maynardville.

You were surprised, "Well, y/n... seein’ that your old team’s nearly defunct..." Aldo glanced over at the last nazi that was being guarded by Hirschberg, then back at you, "How would you like to be a basterd?"

You raised a mischievous eyebrow, and couldn't help but smile a little as you looked back at Hugo, one of your oldest friends. You looked back at Donny, your almost-killer, and...the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. You gazed at the disfigured body of your former sergeant, Werner. You glanced at the blood of your former team. You watched as the only other survivor of Rachtman's post: Private Butz, who was shaking in fear as tears streamed down his face. You had no pity on him, or anyone else on that post. "Now, before you say anything, soldier, I got a warnin' for you. You join my team...my team, my men, my command, you take on a debit. A debit you owe me, personally." You smiled, not just because you had admired them, and had desparately wished the rumors about the basterds to be true...but because you would get a chance to patch things up with your old friend... and, as you looked to Donny Donowitz, you blushed. Aside from that, you always thought the accents in American movies were exaggerated...yet there stood Aldo Raine. "You join 'em boys there, and you owe me one hundred nazi scalps, just like 'em. You understand?" You were unbothered, mostly because as of January of that year, your body count could have paid off the debt. But you had no problem with doing it all over again. You gladly would, and you’d double it if it meant justice and freedom for the innocent, for Jews, the roma, any and everyone that was unjustly stripped of everything. "Yes, sir." Your new lieutenant smiled, set down his sandwich, and picked up a rifle that had the term 'inglourious basterds,' carved into it. He tossed it to you, and handed you your knife. "You’ll be needin’ these, soldier." You nodded, beaming with pride. You looked down at your knife, realizing it needed sharpening, you intended to look back to Hugo, having heard of his skills with a knife as passing rumors when you heard he was arrested. But instead of Hugo, you nearly ran into your new sergeant. Donny's left hand rested on the back of his neck, his right arm relaxed so the tip of the bat was dragging on the ground. He was embarrassed, and relieved. He didn't know what he'd do if he'd killed someone on their side...and he was embarrased he didn't speak up, especially when he believed you. "I...uh.. How about we start over, kid?" You smiled, of course. It would be nice. It was always nice to start over. "My name's Donny." Your soft chuckle, and smiling eyes captivated him as you responded, "I know." Through the blood, grime, and shadow of war that coated you like any soldier, there was some light behind your eyes, a sheer need for retribution, for freedom, for justice. He could tell. And he loved you for it. He'd never forgive himself if he'd killed an innocent person, though in the eyes of the nazis you were far from innocent, in his eyes, you were simply trying to make the world a better place. He respected that. In fact, he respected the hell out of you, and admired the way you faced your fate. But, he was still ashamed... he'd never forgive himself if he had done it. It was at that moment that he swore to himself he'd never hurt you. He'd never let anyone hurt you. He promised himself that if anyone so much as laid a finger on you, he'd kill them. You reached your hand out to shake his, but you both stopped for a moment. The second your fingertips even grazed each other, you took his breath away, and he made your eyes shy away. Soldier to soldier, heart to heart, traitor to basterd, you both understood. You both knew it. Everything was going to change. Everything was going to be alright. You looked into each other's eyes for a moment longer than you should have, and you turned away, your cheeks were burning as he looked up, biting back a nervous laugh. "Donny, bring that other one over here. Alive." Donny didn't hesitate. Not anymore. He took up his bat, and looked at you. Both of you were smirking. It was the beginning of more than just a wartime love story. It was the beginning of something that the nazis would come to fear: You were the one and only person that could handle the Bear Jew. You were the one and only person he would drop everything to protect, (though you didn't need much protecting, after all, Aldo had a habit of calling you 'a regular Annie Oakley.') Still, word did spread that if any nazi so much as aimed in your general direction, they'd have a short, and unnegotiable encounter with the Bear Jew.

The last thing they'd ever see was his wrath, his wild eyes, and a bloodstained baseball bat. But the first thing you saw each morning after that was a brief, flash of his loving, warm eyes, and a secretive, knowing smile, just before he called the basterds to stand at attention.

#inglourious basterds #donny donowitz #donny-donowitz #donny donowitz x reader #aldo raine #smithson utivich #omar ulmer #hugo stiglitz #wilhelm wicki #ww2 #quentin tarantino #imagine #inglourious basterds imagine

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lillahimmel · 4 years

Text

Astrid Lindgren

I haven’t made a list about other materials in a while, so I thought I’d list some Swedish literature. Keep in mind that I’ll start with children’s books.

Masterposts are too heavy so I’ll make a series instead!

(2) is here | How to buy from Bokus

Last edit: 2020 05 02

Pippi Långstrump (Pippi Longstocking)

“Tommy and his sister Annika have a new neighbor, and her name is Pippi Longstocking. She has crazy red pigtails, no parents to tell her what to do, a horse that lives on her porch, and a flair for the outrageous that seems to lead to one adventure after another!”

Buy Swedish copy | Buy English copy

✨

Alla vi barn i Bullerbyn (The Children of Noisy Village)

“In the tiny hamlet of Noisy Village, there are three properties, North Farm, Middle Farm and South Farm, and six children live there: Lisa and Lars and Pip and Britta and Anna and Ollie. They play and play, and have fun nearly all the time. It’s wonderful sleeping in the hay, getting dressed up and going to school – and having fun on the way there and back!“

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✨

Nils Karlsson Pyssling

A collection of short stories about children and how in some of them they meet new friends in a fantasyworld.

Except Nils Karlsson Pyssling, the book contains the tales I skymningslandet, Allrakäraste syster, Ingen rövare finns i skogen, Peter och Petra, Lustig-Gök, En natt i maj, Prinsessan som inte ville leka och Mirabell.

I skymningslandet (In the Land of Twilight)

“Göran has an injured leg and he gets bored spending so much time in bed. But when his mother turns out the light at dusk, Mr Lilyvale knocks on the window and takes him to the Land of Twilight. Göran and Mr Lilyvale walk and fly around Stockholm when people from the daytime world are sleeping. Göran drives a tram and a bus. It doesn’t matter that he has a bad leg in the Land of Twilight. They eat candy that grows on trees in the park, play with bear cubs and meet a moose. They even visit the King and Queen in the royal palace. At the end of their journey each night, Mr Lilyvale takes Göran home just before his mother comes in and turns on the light.“

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🍄

Allra käraste syster (Most Beloved Sister)

“Barbara has a secret friend who lives in the garden. It's her twin sister, Ylva-li, and Barbara doesn't have to share her with her papa or mama or brother. What's even better is that Ylva-li calls Barbara her "Most Beloved Sister." Together, the girls bravely ride their horses through the Great Horrible Forest, where the nasty Frights live, to visit the Kind Ones in the meadow. The Kind Ones always give them cookies and caramels. And best of all, Barbara and Ylva-li go to the Most Beautiful Valley in the World, where the trees and the flowers sing.“

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🍄

Mirabell (Mirabelle)

“Six-year-old Britta very much wants a doll, but her parents can't afford one. One evening an odd little old man arrives driving a horse and cart. Britta opens the gate for him, and he thanks her by giving her a little yellow seed, with instructions to plant it, water it, and she'll see something very funny. To her astonishment, a doll begins to grow in her garden After harvesting, Britta learns that her new doll is much more special than she could ever have guessed.”

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✨

Mio, min Mio (Mio’s Kingdom)

“With help from a genie, young Karl Anders Nilsson travels by day and night, beyond the stars, to reach Farawayland. There, his father the King, who has been searching for him for nine long years, tells him his true name is Mio, and lavishes upon him the loving attention he never received from his foster parents back in Stockholm. Mio learns of a prophecy that has been foretold for thousand of years. With his best friend Pompoo, and his horse with the golden mane, Miramis, he must travel into the darkness of Outer Land to battle the cruel Sir Kato.”

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✨

Lillebror och Karlsson på taket (Karlsson on the Roof)

“Imagine Smidge's delight when, one day, a little man with a propeller on his back appears hovering at the window! It's Karlson and he lives in a house on the roof. Soon Smidge and Karlson are sharing all sorts of adventures, from tackling thieves and playing tricks to looping the loop and running across the rooftops. Fun and chaos burst from these charming, classic stories.“

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✨

Rasmus på luffen (Rasmus and the Vagabond)

“Dreaming of a home of his own, Rasmus runs away from the orphanage and meets Paradise Oscar, a remarkable tramp who takes Rasmus along on his travels, where they encounter adventure from both robbers and police.“

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✨

Sunnanäng

A fairytale collection, contains four short stories.

Sunnanäng (The Red Bird)

“Two very different orphans, Matthew and Anna, are sent to live with the stern farmer in Myra. The work is hard; the food is scarce; the days are cold. But then Anna and Matthew follow the red bird to Sunnymead, where they find hope, sunshine, and in the end, freedom.”

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Spelar min lind, sjunger min näktergal (My Nightingale is Singing)

“Maria finds a miraculous way to bring beauty and joy into the lives of the poor and elderly who live in the poorhouse and to share some of her own love of nature with others.“

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✨

Madicken (Mardie)

“Seven-year-old Mardie lives with her family; her Mum, Dad, little sister Lisbet and their housemaid Alva, in a big, beautiful house called ‘Junedale’, in a Swedish provincial town during the First World War. Mardie wants to be a good and well-mannered girl, but it isn’t always easy. The world is just so full of exciting things to do, try and explore.

Mardie is fearless and she often ends up in somewhat sticky situations that she has to use all her wits to get out of. She climbs trees, flies aeroplanes and jumps off roofs. But more than anything Mardie is sensitive and has a big heart. From her privileged position she observes the world and notices all the suffering and injustices. She has an endless capacity for empathy and kindness. In that regard she practises what her Dad, the radical newspaper editor, writes about in his paper – solidarity with the poor and vulnerable.“

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✨

Lotta på Bråkmakaregatan (The Children on Troublemaker Street)

“Look out -- here comes trouble! Jonas, Maria, and Lotta Nyman don't mean to make trouble, but because their idea of fun is to stick salami on the windows, keep the water running from the kitchen faucet until the sink overflows, and lower meatballs down through the chimney, trouble just seems to follow them.... With the Nyman kids around, anything can happen!“

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✨

Emil i Lönneberga (Emil of Lonneberga)

“Whether he's teaching his pet pig to dance, being chased by a mad cow or wrestling a robber, Emil's adventures never stop. Hens, dogs, little sisters - and adults - all flee his path. But Emil doesn't mean to be bad, it's just that trouble - and fun - follow him wherever he goes.“

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✨

Vi på Saltkråkan (Seacrow Island)

“The four Melkerson children are a little bit worried on reaching Seacrow Island, where their father has rented a cottage for the whole summer without even setting eyes on it. On the boat a man told Pelle, the youngest Melkerson, that the cottage’s roof leaks. They disembark in the pouring rain. Seacrow Island, however, turns out to be full of all sorts of wonderful surprises. Pelle loves animals, and here he finds Bosun, the most gigantic dog he’s ever seen, along with his irrepressible owner, Tjorven. Johan and Niklas meet Teddy and Freddy, two girls, as it turns out, who know all about boats and exploring. As for nineteen-year-old Malin, she falls in love for the first time. By the end of the summer, all four children and their father know that Seacrow Island is home.“

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✨

Bröderna Lejonhjärta (The Brothers Lionheart)

“The two main characters are two brothers; the older Jonatan and the younger Karl. The two brothers' surname was originally Lion, but they are generally known as Lionheart. Karl's nickname is Skorpan (Rusky) since Jonatan likes these typical Swedish toasts or crusts. In Nangijala, a land in "the campfires and storytelling days", the brothers experience adventures. Together with a resistance group they lead the struggle against the evil Tengil, who rules with the aid of the fearsome fire-breathing dragon, Katla.”

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✨

Ronja Rövardotter (Ronia, the Robber's Daughter)

“Ronia, who lives with her father and his band of robbers in a castle in the woods, causes trouble when she befriends the son of a rival robber chieftain.“

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exasperatedmoron · 5 years

Text

5+1 times Barry says he has a boyfriend and the 1 time they realized he wasn’t kidding

*1*

Cisco walked into the lounge with his arms full of chocolate, movies and those sappy scented candles. It was Valentine’s Day and him, Barry and Caitlin had a tradition of spending it together since they all had very, very miserable love lives.

“Who’s ready to cry over a dying dog!”

Caitlin was already sitting on one of the beanbags Barry placed in front of the mini-movie screen. She raised her glass of wine towards Cisco, already dressed in her sweats without makeup on. Barry, however, was dressed up in a maroon button down and hair gelled up. He was setting the stereotypical ‘ILY’ teddy bears on Cisco and Cait’s beanbags.

“Why do you look like you’re going on a date, Sonic?”

“Erm. Cause I am?”

“With who?” Cisco tried to think back to anyone Barry has interacted with recently, assuming it was someone new. The only new friends he’s made so far were Ralph and Julian. “Oh no. It’s not Ralph, is it? You always seemed to be in each other personal spaces”

Barry looked affronted, even holding up his hand to his chest. “Cisco, no! I- What- Cisco!” Barry’s face contorted as he tried to come up with words. “It’s not him! It’s... someone you guys know. But that’s all I’m saying!”

Barry stood his ground and seemed very insistent on keeping quiet, but Cait and Cisco were invested now. Barry’s last crush was on Iris and that ended years ago before she and Eddie got married. In those years, Barry has only gone on two dates - with Patty and Linda - and both didn’t work out so well. But even in those cases, Cisco and Caitlin were updated (like best friends were supposed to be).

Huh. “Why didn’t you tell us about this date?” “It was very last minute. I didn’t even know he was in town today. Turns out he was so... yea.”

“So, he travels out of town?” “Yeah, he does.”

“Huh. What’s his job?” “Oh, you know. A little bit of this and that. He deals with... uhm... artefacts? and... problem... solving?”

Wow. Pinocchio would be disappointed.

“Okay. Have fun on your date.

Barry nearly stumbled on his own two feet getting out of there, yelling a ‘Bye Cait! Cisco!”. Cisco picked up a beer from the chiller and sat beside Cait as she pressed ‘play’ on the remove.

“He doesn’t really have a date, doesn’t he?”

“Nope.”

*2*

Iris barged into Barry’s apartment, hands full of take-out and ice cream. Normally, she’d pick the lock to get in, but for some reason, Barry upgraded his lock. It was the same as before, so she could still use her key but it couldn’t be picked so easily anymore. Barry must have listened to her, for once.

“Barry! Eddie and I are fighting so I need to have a Disney marathon! Get your lazy ass out of bed!”

Iris heard him squeak, followed by a ‘thud’ as he fell out of his bed. She smiled to herself and placed the take out on the table, knowing that the speedster would be less grumpy once he saw the food. She made her way to the kitchen to put the ice cream in the freezer for later when he saw that his freezer wasn’t empty. Her eyebrows scrunched up as she opened the fridge and saw that it filled too.

Barry never had a filled fridge. Not even a half-filled fridge. Even before he was a speedster, he survived of ramen and pizza. The most his fridge would contain was leftovers from his junk or from whatever meal Iris brought over. It was even worse when he became a speedster, almost causing his fridge to be obsolete.

“Iris? Why are you staring at my fridge?”

Iris snapped out of her thoughts and turned around to stare at her foster brother with bed hair. “Since when did you have food?”

Barry looked confused for a second, eyes going from her to the fridge. As soon as his eyes saw the contents of it, a small smile grew on his face. “Oh. My boyfriend must have left some last night.”

Iris’s thoughts on food and Eddie were completely pushed back. “Boyfriend? Bartholomew Henry Allen, are you having secret rendezvous with a man and not telling me?” “Geez Iris, you’re almost as dramatic as he is. And no, I told you about him, remember?”

Now it was Iris’ turn to be confused. “When?” “On Valentine’s Day? I asked you to fill my place with Cait and Cisco since Eddie had work and I had a date?”

Ohhhh. “Barry. You don’t need to use your imaginary boyfriend as an excuse to have your fridge stocked. You could just say it as it is. You finally decided to act like an adult instead of a bachelor.”

“What? What do you mean bachelor? Wait - What do you mean imaginary?”

“Cisco and Caitlin told me you made up a fake boyfriend so that it’d hurt less when you stood them up. It’s fine though, they took pity on you so they aren’t mad.”

“Fake?! I-Wha-They-”

“Barry relax. Come on, heat up your ‘boyfriend’s’ leftovers. I wanna taste it while telling you about how much of an overprotective husband Eddie is being again.”

Hours later, the two were stretched over the couch with cartons of ice cream balancing on their torsos while watching Singin’ in the Rain.

“I really do have a boyfriend, you know?”

“Sure you do.”

*3*

Barry was late for work (again) and Joe had to cover for him (again). He needed the results for a case so he sat on Barry’s chair and waited for the CSI to arrive. Soon enough, said CSI ran into the lab, clutching onto his messenger bag and a mini-cooler.

Julian took one look at him and snorted, “You sure that’s enough food, Allen? I can call a caterer if you’d like.” “Shut it, Jullian.”

“Joe! Hey I -” “You woke up sick, so I sent you to a doctor to get you checked up. I’m assuming you’re feeling better and ‘bout to give me the results for the Williams case I needed two hours ago?”

Barry nodded and tossed his bag to his chair as he frantically sifted through his desk, ignoring Julian’s comment about tidiness. He plucked out a file from the bottom of the clutter and passed it to Joe. “Thanks Barr. Now, why were you really late? Mugging? Little ol’ lady bein’ robbed?”

Barry started to scratch the back of his neck, face turning a light shade of pink as he avoided eye contact with Joe. “Ah. Actually, I overslept. I stayed over at my boyfriend’s place last night so... yeah.”

Joe’s eyes went wide, almost popping out of his head, “Boyfriend?”.

“Dear Lord, not this again,” Jullian mumbled from behind Joe as he continued writing his report. Joe turned around to look at Julian with an incredulous look. “You knew Barry had a boyfriend?”

“I knew Barry had an imaginary boyfriend. Cait told me about the Valentine’s Day Ditch.”

“Imaginary - What?! And seriously? You guys are putting a name to it?!” Barry nearly dropped the things he was holding on the floor.

“Ah. Iris told me about him too.”

“Joe, I really - “

“Barry, if you overslept, that’s fine. You didn’t need to lie. We know you’re workin’ hard on Flash duties anyway.”

“No, Joe. Really I-”

Barry was interrupted by Captain Singh’s appearance at the door, spurring the three back to work. Before Joe left though, he patted Barry on the back.

“You gotta work on your lying skills. Caitlin, Cisco and Iris saw right through you.”

Barry sighed.

*4*

Felicity and Barry were watching a movie marathon in the Arrow cave while Oliver was busy doing mayor stuff. The team needed Barry’s help with a meta who moved to Star City, so Barry ran over and even after the threat was cleared, he stayed for a while to catch up with his best friend.

Barry was finally starting to relax until Felicity just had to bring up a certain topic. “So what’s this I hear about you making up a fake boyfriend to get out of situations?”

Barry groaned into the popcorn.

“He’s not fake,” Barry asserted. “They just think he is because I won’t give out any details.”

“And why not?”

“Because he... well... it’ll be a disaster.”

“Okay,” Felicity sighed, setting down her popcorn, “I’ll play along. Why would it be a disaster?”

“They... Well, he doesn’t have the best reputation?” “Uh huh. And what kind of ‘reputation’ does he have?” Felicity leaned forward, eyes staring into Barry, trying to get him to slip.

“Well. You know, it depends. A bad but good one. But to some people, it’s a good one with a little bit of bad. He’s in the middle of good and bad? Or kinda like a see-saw, what side he’s on depends on the day.”

“Barry, this is why people don’t believe you.” "Not again.”

“You either need to work on your lying skills, or give out details that aren’t so vague.”

Barry groaned. He was so done. He picked up his popcorn and tossed one piece to Felicity’s head.

“Just eat your popcorn.”

*5*

Captain Singh was reading a report when Barry knocked on his door. “Come in, Allen.”

Barry walked into the office and placed a file on David’s desk. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped and turned to David. “Captain?” he asked.

“Yes, Allen?” “Can I request for a day off on the 18th?” David checked the calendar on the desk and saw that most of the other CSIs will be in.

“Okay, submit a proper request and I’ll approve it. If I may ask, why do you need to take it? Albert seems to be less of a pain as he was before.”

Barry chuckled as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “Actually it’s my boyfriend and I’s one and a half year anniversary. Our one year didn’t end well, so I wanted to make it up to him.”

David sighed and removed his glasses, turning to face Barry properly. “Barry, I’ve known you for over 10 years now. I think by now, you would know that excuses like that wouldn’t work on me.’’

Barry looked confused and a little bit upset at his words. “Sir? I...’’

“If it didn’t work on Joe, Iris, or your other friends, it won’t work for me too. I know you’re the Flash, Barry. You didn’t need to come up with an elaborate fib like that.” Barry looked like he was about to protest or deny any allegations, but his shoulders just slumped. Barry looked like he wanted to roll his eyes at the world. He nodded and turned again to walk out when David mentioned something.

“Also, if you ever used that excuse again, one year anniversary sounds more believable than one and a half.”

“Of course. Sure thing, Captain.”

Since Joe found out Captain Singh knew about Barry being the Flash, he decided to let his old friend around the labs, re-introducing him to Cisco and other members of the team. David was slightly surprised at how many people he knew were in the team (”Albert and Dibny? You guys are involved in this?”). He was surprised at their involvement, but at the same time, he wasn’t. Barry had the type of personality that just drew people in.

Just as he was talking to Caitlin in the med bay, a series of beeps emitted from the computers in the cortex. “What’s that? Is that some kind of Flash alert?” he asked as him and Caitlin walked into the cortex where the rest were in, excluding Barry, who was patrolling the city.

“Nah, that just means the waverider landed on the roof. The Legends will probably stop by here to say hi before visiting their families.” Cisco answered as he had another lollipop in his mouth. Caitlin scowled at him and he removed the sweet from his mouth, not wanting her to go into another tirade about dental health.

Minutes later, a group of nine walked into the cortex, exchanging pleasantries with team Flash.

“Didn’t know the Captain of the CCPD is now on team Flash.”

David turned away from his conversation with Ray Palmer and saw Leonard Snart leaning against a wall, smirking. Beside him was his partner Mick Rory, who was being fussed over by Caitlin (”You keep letting your burns heal like that and I’ll cover it in ice until it reaches your bones.”) “Leonard Snart. Didn't know you played on the hero’s side now.”

“Well, I tend to swing both ways.” He turned and sauntered off to Cisco, but not before giving David one last smug look, causing him to think that there was a double meaning behind what Snart said.

“Hey, where’s Barry?” Sara asked Joe, who was catching up with Stein. “He’s on patrol. I can call him back.” Joe went over to the computers and patched in through Barry’s comms.

“Hey Barr, the Legends are here. Come over and say hi.” “The Legends?” Barry sounded excited, but team Flash thought it was because he got to catch up with his friends. The Legends, on the other hand, gave Len a quick look before returning to their conversations.

Five seconds later, a figure appeared in the middle of the cortex, followed by a lightning trail. “Barry!” Sara exclaimed as she threw her arms around the speedster, still in his Flash regalia. “Hey Sara, how was the 1800s?” “Sexist. But I kicked some bigots into a river, so I’d say it went well.” Barry and Sara exchanged a few words before someone in the corner coughed.

“Lenny!” Barry exclaimed and sped over to the reformed criminal. He kissed the thief in front of both their teams, unaware of the heart attack he gave to the members of his own team.

“Bartholomew Henry Allen!” Iris shrieked, causing everyone in the room to wince at the octave she reached, “Since when were you dating Captain Cold?!”. Barry opened his mouth to respond when Nate beat him to it.

“What the hell, man? You didn’t tell your team about it? It’s been years!” Barry sighed and put his head on his hands. Len’s arms were still around his waist, his back leaning on Len’s front. “No. I did. Multiple times. No one believed I had a boyfriend.”

The Legends half of the group burst into hysterical laughter while team Flash was still frozen in disbelief. “Wait a second. Your ‘fake’ boyfriend is Leonard Snart?!” Joe pointed from Barry to Len, taking a moment to process it. He wasn’t as mad as he thought he’d be, but definitely surprised.

“To be fair, they aren’t dating anymore.”

That caused the team to snap out of their stupor. “What do you mean they aren’t dating anymore?” Cisco questioned, trying to comprehend how this all happened. “Did you guys break up?” Caitlin asked from her position beside Mick, who was laughing so hard that he held onto her shoulder for support.

Barry blinked at all his friends and family, asking himself how massive of a situation this led to. He shook his head and removed his gloves, taking Len’s hand and doing the same.

“Guys. I've been wearing a ring for the last 2 months. I haven't been hiding."

"We thought it was part of your... psuedo boyfriend scheme..."

Captain Singh was the first to get over the shock of everything and put all the information together. "So. For the last 2 years, you actually do have a boyfriend. Who's Leonard Snart. And not only did you tell us you were dating someone, you also flaunted your ring around, showing us you're engaged, and we didn't even believe it."

"Most people think the superspeed is what's unbelievable about me..."

#barry allen #coldflash #coldflash drabble #leonard snart #leonard snart/barry allen #cisco ramon #caitlin snow #joe west #iris west #david singh #felicity smoak #julian albert #and others i guess

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forestsfm · 4 years

Text

your fav whore is back with yet another piece of garbage ! this one is just as bad as scar , and i’m very very excited to share him with you all . below is his small bio , headcanons , and a few connections i’d like for him to have ! you know the drill , smack the like button and i’ll hit you up for some plotting n such !

[ jack gilinsky . twenty three . cismale . he/him ] just saw MASON FOREST dragging their suitcase up the steps of BAXTER. good luck living with HIM , word around campus is that they’re STUBBORN , MISCHIEVOUS, CONFIDENT & OUTGOING . makes sense they chose that house now , doesn’t it ? let’s hope this new living situation doesn’t affect their JUNIOR year of HISTORICAL STUDIES .

biography .

***bio mentions parental abuse , read with caution.***

his father was the famous reginald ‘ reggie ‘ forest , one of the most known and popular basketball players in history .

his father was a single parent , his mom being a one night stand of a widely popular basketball player then leaving the hospital as soon as she could once mason was born .

because his father is so well known , mason was shown in the public eye a lot . his father told everyone that he had no doubt that mason would be just as successful in athletics as he was .

mason grew up being in every small basketball league and game around their hometown , almost every day being at practice to get as good as he possibly could .

mason loved the game at first , loving the people he got to spend time with and just the love of the sport . but as soon as his father put mountains of pressure on him the older he got , that quickly changed .

he dreaded going every single day , and even told his maid about it .

his maid was the closest thing he had to a friend , since he couldn’t keep one considering his father made him practice so much he couldn’t ever go out and do anything , and even got homeschooled to save more time for practice .

when he was a sophomore in school , he finally told his father the truth . this didn’t go well .

his father and him got into a major altercation , and reggie told him either he had to love the game , or there would be dire consequences .

when mason told his father off , reggie sent a hard punch right against mason’s eye . that was the only time mason missed practice, and didn’t come back for two weeks until his eye healed up to avoid scandal .

he continued to play up to his senior year , when a group of boys from the team invited him out to a party after a game .

mason snuck out of the house after the game ended and he claims it was the best night of his life , at first . he met multiple people who didn’t care if he played or not , drank , danced , and he couldn’t imagine a life better than one without basketball .

the night turned sour when his father saw a picture of mason on social media , a beer in one hand and a blonde on the other .

his father came busting into the house and threw the beer out of masons hand , telling him to , “ get in the *** damn truck before i throw that fucking table over your bitch ass head . ”

mason put his hands on his father , pushing him back and telling him he couldn’t tell him what to fucking do .

his father hit him . in front of everyone . pictures were snapped , headlines were made , and reggie forest was no longer a household name . he was a disgrace to all parents .

at this point mason was eighteen , and as soon as the police left the party that night he went to his thirty million dollar mansion and cleared out all his stuff . he went to go live with the maid .

his father screamed he would find him again when he left his house , making him regret ruining his life . mason got a restraining order on his father the next day .

he finished his homeschool and saw hollis , a perfect place to attend . somewhere far away from his hometown , somewhere he could be himself . somewhere where he could play the sport without the stress . somewhere where his father wont find him .

he got in quickly , call it pity or his skills , but he got a full ride on a basketball scholarship .

he constantly looks over his shoulder , hoping his dad doesn’t find him . and living life the way he always wanted to .

headcanons / facts .

he’s a major ladies man . cocky about it too .

he’s very caring , and has the biggest heart but has a majorly hard time showing it .

his favorite singer is lewis capaldi .

people do still recognize him , and he fucking hates when they ask him hey ! aren’t you reg’s son ? i wouldn’t ask him .

he’s starting to love the game again , but sometimes has to ask his coach to let him sit out when he gets memories of his dad .

he’s very arrogant , and uses his charm to get anything he wants .

he’s so good to talk to , and will be honest with you on anything .

he’s the type that’ll bring you a teddy bear and sour patch kids or a beer at three in the morning cause you’re having a shitty night .

he’s tan like 24 / 7 and people always ask him how he gets that way , and its cause he spends 23 / 6 in the sun practicing .

he’ll talk to anyone that will talk to him , and is only a dick if you do something to him .

if you do hurt him , he’ll never , i mean NEVER forgive you . he doesn’t believe in people changing .

buzzfeed unsolved is a CONSTANT for this guy .

he’s the type to make the “ wipe , wipe , wipe it down “ tik tok and get like 2 likes cause he didn’t time it right

he’ll be in ball shorts one day and straight black jeans and boots the next . no middle .

he’s gonna marry jennifer aniston one day . he truly believes it .

oh and him and scar dated during sophomore year for a hot minute and then she went crazy on him and he ended it and they hate each other more than anything thank u next ~

connections .

someone who will not give in to his dumbass jokes and remarks , someone who will make him work for a friendship .

bitter exes . give me DRAMA .

soft exes who still care for each other .

partying buddies !!

workout / basketball friends . he needs them .

unrequited relationship .

someone he knew in his hometown and knew about everything going on , and now mason refuses to talk to them because he doesn’t want to be reminded of that time in his life .

hookups ;)

triple threat !

someone he has a soft spot for , and will drop everything to tend to them and whatever they have got going on .

someone he **sexually** frustrates and maybe they **sexually** frustrate him too and they constantly do little things to get the other going but they havent pulled the trigger yet

one night stand that led to an amazing friendship !

and much much more but im lazy atm ! gimme plots pls </3

#hollis:intro #this one is so much more scattered than scar's BUT its the thought that counts !#and i have sm muse for him so like ?? luv me ??

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