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bucky-barnes-diaries · 1 year

Text

Tension

Pairing || CollegeProfessor!Bucky x Student!Female!Reader

Summary || Professor Barnes would like to see you in his office…

Word Count || 1915

Contents & Warnings || Smut — [N]SFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, [e]xplicit content/language, undefined age-gap, professor x student relationship, Professor/Sir [k]ink, [t]easing, [t]ouching, [f]ingering, mention of bodily fluids.

Disclaimer 1 || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Disclaimer 2 || Do you find the use of [ ] throughout my fics annoying/distracting? You can also read this story on AO3 and Wattpad! But remember to come back to this post and reblog to show support! I would appreciate it if you left a Kudos on AO3 and a Vote on Wattpad! And a comment as well on whichever platform you decide to read on :) I must apologize for this workaround! Thank you for being kind and patient! And for the continued support <3

Professor!Bucky Masterlist

Whenever Professor Barnes called you into his office, it was not to discuss your ongoing assignment, but rather for some mind-blowing and secretive [s]ex.

You expected him to wait for you right by the door when you walked in, as he usually did—pushing you up against it, trapping your hands above your head, while locking the door with his other. His [l]ips would quickly find yours in a hurried and desperate [k]iss before moving you over to his desk—[b]ending you over, lifting your [s]kirt, and [f]ucking you [h]ard into the mahogany wood.

But no. That was not the case this time.

This time, as you entered, the was no ambush. No riveting [t]ouches or intoxicating [k]isses. Instead, he was seated at his desk, scribbling away on some papers.

He lifted his head as the door opened. The thin line between his [l]ips curved upwards into a bright smile once he saw who it was.

“Hey,” he greeted cheerfully. “Lock the door and come on in.”

You can’t deny that you were disappointed at the lack of special attention as you walked to his desk and stood opposite where he was seated, fiddling with your [f]ingers and looking nervously at your feet. Maybe he actually just wanted to discuss your assignment this time—be a teacher to his student instead of secretive [l]overs.

“Professor,” you greeted casually, “you called me to your office for…?” You tried to keep your voice normal—masking the disappointment and confusion in your tone.

He reached his hand out to you across the desk with an encouraging smile. So this was more than just a teacher-student moment after all.

You hesitated for a second, but placed yours in his nonetheless, and you felt a surge of electricity spread through your nerves as you [t]ouched [s]kin. His thumb brushed the back of your hand, and your heart fluttered at the affectionate contact. His eyes sparkled behind the black-framed glasses as he gazed into yours, which made you feel at ease.

“Just wanted your company while I work. I hope you don’t mind, Darling.”

An unusual request from him. It was not something he’d ever asked of you. Your relationship was either; [h]ard and [d]irty [f]ucking, or, on rare occasions, actually discussing assignments and academic work. But this request was somewhere in between, and you didn’t mind at all. You were just happy to be in his presence and that he wanted you with him.

“Of course not,” you reassured and squeezed his hand before stepping to his side of the desk.

His eyes widened behind the glasses when you stood beside him. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before on several occasions. The [t]high-[h]igh socks, the short [l]ittle [s]kirt, and the [t]ight long-sleeve shirt—a [s]choolgirl fantasy come to life.

He had gazed and [l]usted for you over it in the morning lecture today, as he did most classes, and he definitely noticed when you walked into his office just now. But having you this close in that [c]ock [t]easing outfit was challenging. He wanted to reach out and [t]ouch you [s]eductively all over. He wanted to hoist you on his desk and [f]uck you like the [n]aughty [g]irl you were for [t]easing him. But he kept himself composed and smiled at you sweetly again.

You noticed the shift in his behavior but pretended like you were completely oblivious to the [a]lluring impact you had on him as you sat on top of his desk, [l]egs crossed, right beside the papers he was grading.

It would be so easy for him to reach out to [t]ouch and [c]aress your [t]empting [s]kin. It was so close. He could practically feel the [s]oft texture of your [t]highs on his fingertips. But again, he held back. Shaking his head mentally before gripping the pen tightly with his tense and [n]eedy [f]ingers, before burying his head into the papers again, scribbling away.

You failed at hiding your satisfied [s]mirk as you picked up a random book from his desk and pretended to be engrossed in the words. But in reality, all your consciousness was on him, and his was on you.

Although this could have been a sweet moment between you and him where you just appreciated each other’s presence and silence, the [s]exual tension in the office was almost suffocating. So strong that it invaded all your senses and manifested itself so deep in your core, making you [n]eedy for him beyond belief.

He pretended to be engaged in his work, but you could tell from his mannerisms how uneasy he was as well. The [f]ingers holding the pen twitched, making his handwriting lose its finesse. His leg anxiously bounced up and down, making his chair shake.

And you could see out of your peripheral that he was ever so often eyeing you out. Trailing his darkening eyes from your [d]angling [f]eet, up your covered [c]alves, before settling on your [l]uscious [t]highs. Lingering his gaze on your [e]xposed surface for a moment and [s]ucking in a low breath at the mouthwatering [s]kin. He continued his journey upwards towards your [c]lothed [b]reasts. Spending the same amount of time eyeing them up—the [t]ight top hugged your [c]hest to perfection.

He found this [s]exual tension just as riveting as you. Although he wanted nothing more than to give in and toss his papers on the floor, bend you over the desk, and make you scream and [c]ome in his office, he wanted the tension to reach the breaking point, knowing how explosive the outcome would be.

And after about 10 minutes, you reached that breaking point. The tension had become completely unbearable, and you were ready for the outcome of yours and his touchless and nonverbal [t]easing.

Placing the book back in its place, you leaned back on your palms, pushing your [c]hest out and uncrossing your [l]egs, allowing you to play.

You dragged the hem of your [s]hort [s]kirt up your [t]high. His eyes, which were already fixated on you, got a glimpse of your cotton [p]anties. The material was already damp with need and [d]esire for him. His eyes grew wide and darkened upon the sight. And he swallowed thickly.

You hummed softly as you dragged your [f]ingers through your covered [w]etness—paying close attention to your deprived [cl]it, circling the aching nerve.

“Please, Professor,” you mewled as you fussed on his desk, “[t]ouch me.” You wanted, needed, for him to [t]ouch you like only he knew best. Only he knew how to make you truly satisfied.

His gaze lifted up to you, and he could see the outright pleading expression on your face—frustrated with need and longing for him.

He gripped the pen tightly with one hand, and the other clenched into a fist in his lap, resisting the [t]emptation again to [t]ouch you, but this time was for good reason. He wanted, needed, to hear more of your sweet and soft pleas for him. He wouldn’t give in to you so easily.

And you could tell by the growing [s]mirk on his face that those were the exact thoughts running through his head, so you had to step up your game and play even harder.

“Please, Professor,” you practically whined, almost sounding pathetic with need. “I need you to [t]ouch me.” You [a]rched your [b]ack and thrust your [h]ips forward, hoping it would convey how [d]esperate you were at this point.

He let out a chuckle at your [d]esperation, but decided that you’d been good enough, so he would give you what you [d]esired, at least to some extent. He placed his warm palm on your [t]high, digging his [f]ingers into your [d]elicate [s]kin.

The [t]ouch was [h]ot and electrifying, satisfying beyond belief, and you couldn’t help but [m]oan softly as he made contact. But you needed more, needed for him to just reach a little bit higher to [t]ouch, [c]aress, and play with your aching [s]ex. But it still didn’t seem like he would give in entirely.

“Please, [t]ouch me, Sir.”

He found it riveting to watch you fall apart at such a simple [t]ouch, still yearning and pleading for more. And if he could, he would continue to [t]ease you, loving the whining mess you became when he did, but he could tell that you were on the verge of a breakdown.

“You didn’t tell me how to [t]ouch you, [s]weetheart.”

You huffed in annoyance and took his hand in yours, done with the [t]easing and playing, and guided his hand further up and lay it flat against your [c]overed core. He groaned deeply as he felt you. Felt you pulse against his palm. Felt the dampness of the material. And that’s when he reached his breaking point.

The next part happened so fast.

He pushed the chair back, legs scraping across the floor. Definitely loud enough for someone walking outside the office to hear. He was up from the chair in a flash, towering over your sitting form. With one hand, he pushed your [t]highs apart and stepped between them. The other hand grasped the back of your [n]eck firmly, making you gasp loudly. All your attention was on him now—waiting for the explosion that he would make of you.

He took his [g]lasses off, and you knew it was serious business when he did that, making you emit a [n]eedy approval that you were finally going to get what you [d]esired.

He [g]roaned deeply as he lightly brushed his [l]ips with yours. The bass of the sound rumbled in his [t]hroat, making your [c]lit flutter in excitement at the [e]rotic music. His eyes were now dark with [l]ust—no more sweet Professor.

“Tell me again what you want, [s]weetheart.” His tone was mocking and cruel because he knew exactly what you wanted, but he needed to hear you say it one more time.

“I-I want you t-to t-[t]ouch me,” you mumbled in a breathless [m]oan. You were losing focus and started slipping into the world of [p]leasure as he pushed your [p]anties to the side, lightly brushing your [s]lick [f]olds with his [f]ingertips. “[F]uck, Sir, please,” you pleaded again as your eyelids fluttered.

He chuckled at how sensitive you were at such a simple [c]aress, and he couldn’t wait any longer to have his entire force on you, knowing how insane it would make you.

So he brought the [f]ingers up to his [l]ips and [s]ucked them, [m]oaning at the [t]aste of you on his [f]ingertips, before bringing them down again to your deprived [s]ex. His mess mixed with yours, making his [f]ingers rub against your [s]lick and [n]eedy [f]olds in an effortless manner, paying close attention to your [c]lit.

The [m]oan of relief and satisfaction you let out once he finally [t]ouched you was blaring, and you bit your [l]ip, drawing [b]lood, to keep your [w]hines, cries, and [m]oans at bay. It was still business hours, and the campus was still bustling with students and teachers in every hall.

“Is this what you wanted, [s]weetheart? For me to [t]ouch this [n]eedy [l]ittle [p]ussy of yours, huh?”

“Y-yes, Professor,” you [c]hoked out as you thrust your [h]ips into his [f]ingers, desperate for him to go further, knowing that he had more to give.

And without needing to [b]eg much more, he pushed two digits into your entrance—fitting inside of you to [p]erfection and making you [f]eel whole and truly satisfied.

“I’ll make you [c]ome so good, [s]weetheart. So [f]ucking good….”

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

Follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

Apologies for the [ ] on some words! I’m testing it out to see if I can evade getting a Label put on this.

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fatehbaz · 9 months

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In May 2023, the city of Phoenix began its project to clear and eliminate its largest homeless camp, known as The Zone, a refuge for hundreds of people. During the record-breaking heat of the summer of 2023, Phoenix cleared the camp, block by block. By the beginning of September 2023, just as the city was experiencing over 50 consecutive days of temperatures of 110 degrees Fahrenheit, the city cleared the block of the camp where most seniors and the elderly lived.

The trend of unhoused people moving from [the neighboring city of] Tempe into Phoenix has implications for Phoenix, which is under intense scrutiny for how it has handled its own growing homelessness crisis. Phoenix has been battling [...] lawsuits since 2022. [...] [One] was brought be the American Civil Liberties Union of Arizona, which alleges the city unlawfully cited people and threw away their belongings during encampment sweeps. The U.S. Department of Justice has also been investigating the Phoenix Police Department since 2021 over several issues, including its treatment of people experiencing homelessness. [...] “They say it’s not illegal to be homeless. But it totally is. There’s nowhere you can be homeless,” said [AD], a community organizer who hosts weekly picnics in Tempe for unhoused people. Others agreed. “It’s become kind of a police state for the homeless within the city,” said [KE], founder [...] of [a] homelessness nonprofit [...]. Both the River Bottom in Tempe and The Zone in Phoenix, two of the largest encampments in the region, have been or are currently being cleared out. Smaller encampments are also frequently broken up by police or private security [...].

Text excerpt from: Juliette Rihl. "Tempe's clearing of homeless camps has ripple effects for Phoenix, aid workers". The Arizona Republic. 11 July 2023.

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The city continued clearing Phoenix's largest homeless encampment known as "The Zone" on Friday morning [1 September 2023], in the aftermath of a severe storm that raged the night before. [...] This was the eighth block cleared [since May 2023] [...]. The block cleared was [...] where many elderly people lived. [...] [A] nonprofit organization providing supportive resources for seniors experiencing homelessness, is located along the same street. 'The Zone' was hit hard by Thursday night's monsoon storm. [...] [H]igh winds scattered some people's possessions. [...] At the start of August, around 700 people lived in and around The Zone [...].

Text excerpt from: Helen Rummel. "Eighth block of 'The Zone' homeless encampment in Phoenix cleared out after storm". The Arizona Republic. 1 September 2023. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

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As the city cleared another block late last week [September 2023], local activists gathered outside the barriers set up around it. [...] A man who goes by [Q] has been unhoused for roughly four years. [...] “It is kind of heartbreaking to see,” he said, watching city staffers pick through piles of belongings left behind. [...] Neighbors from different mutual aid groups set up folding tables just outside barriers on either side of the block. [NA] was among them. [...] He said they form relationships with the people living here. Most are elders, many people with disabilities that prevent them from working. “They’re dejected, they’re demoralized, they’re upset,” [NA] said. “These are homes that they’ve built for themselves that have taken some time, and resources that they’ve just had to come by because nobody’s providing them.” [...] [JS] said when people are moved, they often don’t stay sheltered. [...] “But a lot of people go into these [shelters] and then they’re hit with restrictions when they get there. They’re told one thing, and then they arrive, there’s a curfew, [...] they can’t have whatever. And then it’s: You either follow our rules right now, or you’re going out into the heat.” [...] [AM] watched the street sweep from behind the yellow tape. “Well, I think that this is a human rights violation,” [AM] said. “What I’m seeing is just a bunch of people being paid to dislocate people.” [AM] is a legal observer, volunteering with the National Lawyers Guild. [...] “They're being moved out of one street,” said [AM]. “But the reality is, they have nowhere to go."

Text by: Kirsten Dorman and Tori Gantz. "Another block in 'The Zone' is cleared, but the path forward for those living there is unclear'. Fronteras Desk. 7 September 2023. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

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fortuna-audaces-iuvat-14 · 3 days

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i want to move and get up and do something but im literally stuck 😭 its 1 am and i need to refill my med ccontainer

Or actually work on event requests why am i such a procrastinator. Igh okay i canndo this i just have to move my legs why is this so fucking hard

#amorrambles #amor needs a drink #actually autistic #autistic things #What is this even called #Im stuck inside my body #Only my fingers r moving

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marzipanandminutiae · 1 year

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That person complaining about people mocking weird baby names that white women give their kids is literally making up a guy to get mad at.

1) People making fun of the name Arson is largely a transphobia thing and completely unrelated to people mocking the name kcaiyleighg or whatever obscene mispelling of a common name people give their baby to make them "special."

2) Racism against black people's names is NOT the same thing as people mocking white women for naming their baby "Abcde" and shit.

3) Nobody is claiming that these goofy ass names are oppressive. People just think they're goofy and also kind of cruel names to give your child just because you want them to be "unique"

Reactionaries love to make up some kind of bad guy to justify the fact that they are reactionary but the truth is that that person is just reeeeeally mad that people make fun of white woman baby names but knows they'll get laughed at if they say it up front.

This is largely what I was saying, yes!

A few other thoughts:

I am totally unfamiliar with trans people named Arson, except Maia Arson Crimew. Is this one of those strawman "my gender is attack helicopter" memes? (I do know multiple trans Robin Goodfellows, though)

A quick FB search shows more Latina and Black women named Abcde than white, actually

Which demonstrates that this phenomenon knows no color, nationality, or single culture. Japan has its "kira-kira" names, too, for example. there's a specific type of Parental Vanity Name that's more associated with white parents, of course- hard-to-parse spellings with "igh," "x," and "y," nature terms not conventionally used as names, Biblical references that may or may not make any sense out of context, etc. But nobody's immune, unfortunately. there will always be parents who name their children like pets, the world over

#ask #anon #baby names #my dad knew an Emily Memily growing up #also pour one out for Princess May Cheese born 1896 in London

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itsallsternutation · 7 months

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Hankies And Spice Make Everything Nice (2/?)

Part one can be found here: https://www.tumblr.com/itsallsternutation/733912856588959744/a-beautiful-blossom-1-original-work-fenby?source=share

Sorry this took a bit. It takes surprisingly long to convert the stuff I write from a doc into the plain text here lol : )

If you liked this, be sure to like, comment, reblog, and all that jazz, and if you really liked it (which I'm guessing at least a few of you do) go tell me about it here on SFF too https://www.sneezefetishforum.com/topic/84545-bernis-burny-nose/

Anyway, without further ado…

Berni's Burny Nose Part 2: Hankies and Spice Make Everything Nice

The rest of the lecture wasn’t particularly eventful. That is, apart from a few more of the sneezes, sniffles, and blows that came from Berni’s poor nose. However, Sam’s big handkerchief and little smile helped her feel just a little better about each.

Sam was really starting to like Berni. She seemed nice and there was just something about her that made them smile. Besides, she seemed like someone who needed a friend and maybe Sam did too. Secretly, Berni was also really starting to like Sam too. Sam didn't know it but they were the first person Berni met who didn’t make her feel terrible about her sneezing. When the professor concluded his lecture and dismissed the class, Sam and Berni left the lecture hall together. However, before they left, Sam made sure to covertly grab a few extra tissues from a nearby box (with where they planned to take Berni, they had a feeling both of them might need a few tissues).

As the two exited the lecture hall, Berni’s tickly nose remembered it was still terribly allergic to ragweed with an intense “eh…EhgTISHEW! HehtCHOO! heugh…ehg-heh…Heeh-HIEH-HetSHOO!” and a congested snort. “Ugh fugk, I’b so sorry,” she said with a groan before blowing her nose.

“For what?” Sam asked inquisitively.

“For…being all snotty and for…egh…igh…gehg..KISHIOU! And for sneezing everywhere,” she explained stuffily.

“Bless you. Are your allergies somehow your fault?”

“Ndo,” Berni replied after a long pause, her stuffiness now reaching new heights due to fresh and extended exposure to the pollen outside.

“Then why apologize?”

“Because I feel bad aboud it…” she answered with another snort.

“You shouldn’t” Sam told her, “I bet all the stuffiness and itchiness make you feel bad enough.”

However, with this, Berni stopped dead in her tracks. When Sam realized she did, Sam stopped and turned around to wait for her. They initially thought Berni stopped because she needed to sneeze or blow her nose, but when they looked at her, they realized she was staring at them and looking freshly miserable.

“Why are…why are you doig thdis?” she asked softly, just above a whisper.

“Doing what?” Sam asked somewhat rhetorically, but also legitimately wanting to know what she felt was wrong.

“Givig mbe your hadkerchief, checkig if I’b okay, takig me to ludnch, blessig mbe…” she listed through the congestion in her nose, “Why are you beig so ndice to mbe even though I’b so igcky?”

“Because we seem like we might have a lot in common and you seemed like you needed someone to be nice to you. I know what that feels like to need that.”

Somewhat shocked and hesitant, Berni began walking with Sam again in silence. There was a long pause between the two before Berni asked, “Where are you eved takig me?” as she wiped her nose with Sam’s hanky, “idt’s not lidke I’ll be able to tasdte anythig with my ndose this blodked and once I startd sneezig again they’re just godda…shidt…AGSHIEW!...godda…ETGSCHEW!...godda tdry tdo CHOO! Hat-TISGHEW! Hik-TCHEW! Ughhhh,” she said with an extra congested groan as her nose became just as snotty and wet on the outside as it was on the inside. “They’re judst goig to kidk me oudt for sneezig all over everythidg.”

“Wow, bless you five times!” Sam interjected somewhat playfully before handing Berni one of the tissues they brought, “have you been around here much?”

Berni blew her nose hard, giving another wet gurgle which transformed into a congested honk before answering, “Ndot really,” in a slightly less congested voice. “My parents brought me here odnce when I was a kid and I rebeber thigkig the cabpus was pretty, thadt’s idt. With all the polled I’b nod sure it's so preddy aymbore.”

“Well, I’m not from around here, but both my parents went to college here and they told me a few stories and brought me on a few tours. I think I might know a place that can get you some of your consonants back.”

“If idt’s a pharmacy thed idt wod’t be mbuch help. I’b already godt some shidty over the coudter mbedicine that dosed’t work, so unless you cad getd me the prescribtion I’ve beed tryig to get forever thed you might as well just take me badk to my dorb.”

“Nope, though I don’t think getting you an appointment with an allergist would be that difficult. I’m just taking you to a place I think might be able to clear you up a little.”

“Where? HEGSHIEW!” Berni asked before sneezing so suddenly and so snottily she was left unable to cover and got just a little bit on Sam’s fall flannel shirt. “Oh mby god. I-I-I’b so so sorry. I-did’t mead to…to...HIGSHEW! HIT-TISHEW!” she stammered in apology. In that moment, she seemed like she was ready to burst into tears, but her tears were of course interrupted by a duplet of sneezes.

Fearing that Berni’s complete absorption in her allergic misery might cause her to fall, Sam quickly outstretched their arm and used it to support her. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s all okay,” they reassured her, “Are you okay?”

Berni stopped for a moment and looked up at Sam with a watery, pitiful look in her eyes. Then, she threw her arms around Sam, thrusted herself into their arms, and burst into tears with a weeping “Ndo!”

Taken aback by Berni’s embrace, there was little Sam could do but hug her back and try to comfort her: “What’s wrong Berni? You can tell me. I won’t judge you.”

“I haven’t been healthy in forever! I can’t even remember what it feels like anymore!” Berni moaned, “I h…hehhhh…Eggghhh…Egh-TSHIEW! I hate all my shitty hayfever for making me so gross!” she lamented, carefully directing her sneeze away from Sam’s shirt, but not completely sparing it from her spray, “I hate all the ragweed for making me so allergic TCHEW! I hate all the pollen for making me so itchy ah-ASHEE! I hate all my snot for making everyone hate me HISCH! I hate all my friends for avoiding me because I sneeze all the time AKSHIEW! I hate Japan for making me so sensitive ASHOO! And I hate my parents for taking me there! And most of all, I ESHEW! HATE! KISHA! MY! Ehht-SHIEW! DISGUSTING KASHEW! SNEEZING!”

“I…I am so sorry. I am so sorry that you feel so miserable,” Sam said with tears in their eyes as they hugged Berni tighter. Berni tried to struggle and pull herself away to stop her snot from getting on Sam’s shirt, but they kept their hug strong. “I am so sorry that it has been so hard for you to feel good about anything, and I am so sorry that everyone hates you for something you can’t control.” Sam told Berni, sniffling from their tears as they wiped away Berni’s snot with their sleeve despite her protests. “I would do anything in the world to make you feel better, and that’s why I’m bringing you out here,” Sam continued. “When my Dad went to college here, he would always go with my mom to this dumpling place where they served these spicy dumplings. When they brought me here, I was sick with a cold and so stuffy, but when I had the dumplings, all the spice cleared me up and I felt better, so here’s what we’re gonna do,” they explained. “We’re gonna go to that dumpling restaurant and you and you’re gonna feel a whole lot better. They’re gonna make both of us sneeze a lot, but they’ll do so much to clear you up. I don’t know how long the relief will last, but it’s the least I can do.”

There was a long silence between the two, and Sam was just about to ask Berni if she was okay again before she quietly asked, “Are they good?”

“They’re amazing,” Sam said, finally wiping tears from their own eyes.

Berni slowly broke away from the hug, but she looked like she felt a lot better. “Okay,” she said, her face slowly breaking into a little smile, “let’s go get some.” This was only Sam’s second time seeing Berni’s smile. Maybe if they had seen it in a vacuum, they wouldn’t have appreciated it that much, but they knew enough now to know it was the most beautiful thing in the world. It was a simple smile with a myriad of simple messages like “I feel better”, “I’m not hurting anymore”, and “thank you”. It took Sam a moment to recollect himself after witnessing this thing of beauty, but not too long. After all, they weren’t finished helping her yet. “Okay,” they reassured her, “It should be just around the corner.”

It only took a few more steps before the restaurant came into view. The smell of spices and cooking lingered in the air outside. The restaurant was fairly small, and it was surrounded by a bunch of other restaurants, including a pizza place, a hibachi grill, a poke place, and a coffee shop. There was also a pharmacy at the other side of the block, but Berni said herself that there wasn’t much they could do for her there without a prescription. None of them seemed busy, as these places normally got most of their traction during dinner and on weekends. On top of the restaurant before them, there was a large sign reading “Hot Dumplings!”

“Sign seems a little on the n…neh-neh-NehSHOO!” Berni said before being interrupted by a particularly wet sneeze, “Sorry, I guess the spice is getting to me already.”

“Bless you,” Sam said with a sniff, the spice starting to get to them too, “Why do you feel like you need to apologize whenever you…hih..Hishew! Sneeze?”

“Because I always feel bad about it,” Berni justified before taking out Sam’s hanky to blow her newly leaking nose.

“You shouldn’t,” Sam told her as they reached for the handkerchief Berni had given them. “It’s normal. No one’s a perfect little doll that never does anything gross,” they reasoned as they blew their nose in the cute blue hanky.

“I bet you’re never gross,” Berni remarked as the two walked into the restaurant.

“Hah, believe me, you wouldn’t be saying that if you’ve ever seen me sick. You should see me at the peak of flu season.”

Not wanting to alarm anyone with their sneezes, handkerchiefs, and their discussion of colds and flu, the two decided to drop the subject as they entered the restaurant.

They were the only ones inside, apart from a man behind the register and a cook lurking in the back. “Three dumplings of each kind, water, and a side of white rice please.” Sam ordered.

“I’ll have the same thing he’s…he’s…HEHSHIEW! Heh-ESHIEW! AhtSHIEW!” Berni attempted to order before letting out three extra productive sneezes into Sam’s soiled handkerchief and looking absolutely mortified.

“Uh…please forgive her. It’s allergy season for her and she’s not quite used to the pollen around here yet –ah-Ah-ACHOO!” Sam lied before sneezing into Berni’s handkerchief.

The cashier did not look particularly pleased, but he seemed more eager to get things over with. “Okay. I’m assuming both of you will be having your food to go. Will that be together and will you be paying cash or card?” he asked flatly.

Berni seemed embarrassed, but Sam quickly took control of the situation with a, “Card please,” and quickly removed a debit card from their wallet. It took Berni a moment to realize Sam was about to pay for her meal, but when she did, she quickly rummaged through her bag looking for her own wallet and tried to tell Sam, “Don’t worry. I-I-I can pay for my own food.”

“It’s okay,” Sam reassured, “It’s my treat, remember?”

The cashier only groaned, clearly annoyed both by Sam and Berni’s saccharine display and by what he perceived as their potential to contaminate the restaurant. “Just swipe your card right here, wait way over there, and we’ll get you your food as fast as humanly possible.”

Ignoring this remark, Sam swiped their card, left a particularly large tip to make up for stoking fears of contamination, and gave a warm “thank you.”

“Whatever,” the cashier muttered in response before passing the order sheet back to the employee in the kitchen.”

Sam and Berni both waited at the other side of the restaurant, breathing in the smells of spices in the air and occasionally sneezing, dripping, and blowing into their handkerchiefs. It didn’t take long for their order to come out, and when it did, they quickly took their meals to a picnic table just outside the restaurant. “Wow this is working really well,” Berni told Z through her newly runny nose, “Everything smells so good and I feel so clear. And we haven’t even…Het-TISHOO! We haven’t even eaten anything.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet. Hih-Ishoo!” Sam said with a particularly runny sneeze.

The two sat down, opened their to-go containers, and began to dig in. The dumplings were just as wonderful as Sam remembered and Berni seemed to love them, but it wasn’t long before the sneezing started. Fortunately, both had their handkerchiefs and some tissues ready to nurse their noses.

The two were about halfway between their meals, both sneezing up a storm and blowing their noses before Berni tried to say something: “These are so…heh..these are so good AGSHOO! HIESHOO! ESHOO! ATCHEW! They’re really good at clearing up my nose too. Thank you so much.”

“No pro..pro…Choo! Hachew! Hishoo! Achew Hi-CHEW!” Sam replied.

“Don’t worry, you don’t need to finish that. Bless you sweetie. And, I guess bless you for the couple thousand times before that,” Berni replied with a giggle and a “HEESHOO!”

“Whooh, excuse me.” Sam said as they wiped their nose with Berni’s blue hanky. “Hey, not only do you not sound congested anymore, but you didn’t apologize for being sneezy!”

Berni immediately blushed with embarrassment on top of her allergies, and covered her face in her hands, but Sam tried to reassure her: “No no no, that’s good. It means you’re not feeling as self conscious as you were before. Etchoo!” they explained, “you even blessed me and joked about my sneezing.”

Berni slowly brought her hands down from her still-flushed face before quietly saying “I didn’t mean to…”

“No no, Ashew!” Sam interrupted, “it means you’re not feeling as nervous and self-conscious about it. That’s good.”

Berni seemed too shocked to know how to respond, so she did so with a simple “umm…bless you,” before turning back to her food. Both Sam and Berni then focused most of their attention on finishing their meals, each letting out a few drippy, wet sneezes every few bites, before Berni broke the silence again towards the end of her meal:

“What do you even like about my sneezes? Yours are so much quieter and cuter. Mine are always so icky and loud and snotty HIEH-TSHIEW! Wow, that was a strong one.”

“I like them for the same reason I like snowflakes” Sam explained, “Even though each one is less than a second, each is its own unique little work of art. Besides, I like how strong and forceful they are. Each one shows how sensitive, passionate, and unique you are.”

“By ‘passionate’ and 'sensitive', do you mean ‘allergic’? AKSHOO!” Berni asked. “You must want to be an English major or something.”

“That I do. My main plan is to get my degree, become a travel writer after college so that I can travel the world and get some writing experience at the same time, then either write the great American novel or get picked up by some big studio or publisher or something.” Sam recounted

“That’s cool. I don’t really like traveling that much because it messes with my allergies, but it’s good you can make it part of your job,” Berni told Sam, “My parents both wanted me to go here so I can go to medical school, but I’ve always been really good at programming, I even won some prizes for it back when I was in high school. If I can get my allergies under control and get a coding job that I can work remotely for, then maybe I’ll try to give traveling another chance.”

By this point, the two had finished their dumplings and their sneezing was starting to die down, so Sam decided to start cleaning up: “Well Berni, it was wonderful to meet you and I had a really nice time, but I think both of us should start heading back to the dorms and preparing for our next classes, especially before your nose starts getting stuffed up again.”

“Okay, but can you walk me back to my dorm before we say goodbye?” Berni asked, showing Sam her cute little smile. Unable to refuse Berni, Sam obliged. The two cleaned up, threw away their trash, and began their walk back to Berni’s dorm. As they began their walk, both Berni and Sam sneezed often, still recovering from the spice, but by the end of their walk, their sneezing had been replaced by animated conversation.

“...So you’ve lived here in the South your whole life?” Sam asked.

“Yep. In a smaller town about an hour southeast of here,” Berni replied.

“Have you ever visited Japan?”

“I...I don’t really want to talk about Japan. Um…where are you from? I don’t think I ever asked you.”

“Oh, I’m one of “day-um yankees” that burned this place down a hundred and fifty years ago?”

“Ooh, what part of the north are you from? Are you from New York?”

“What, you think every Jewish guy is from New York?”

“What?...n-n-no I-”

“Relax, I’m just messing with you. My family’s from Boston.”

“Oh, cool. I played Fallout 4 a bunch, so I know a little bit about what Boston looks like,” Berni explained, “Why aren’t you going to learn writing at an Ivy League or something? If you got into here you could definitely get into them, and I bet they have way better departments.”

“Eh, my parents tried to sell me on the fancy New England schools, but they just weren’t for me. They were all too stuck up and pretentious. I like it here better. Everyone’s smart here, but no one’s an ass about it. Besides, this is one of the “Ivy Leagues of the South”, so maybe I am at an Ivy League,” Sam mused.

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Berni said, “How many times did you rehearse that?”

“Eh, I had to give a similar spiel to all my Uncles and Aunts about why I didn’t want to go where they went. I’m glad you liked it, because they sure didn’t…” Sam and Berni had become fast friends like it was nothing. Pretty soon, the two had arrived at Berni’s dorm, which Sam noted just so happened to be a few floors up from theirs. They were ready to leave and say goodbye, but just before they did, they realized there was still one last thing they needed to do: “Oh, I almost forgot, here’s your hanky back. Sorry I used a little bit. You’ll have to tell me where you got it sometime because I swear this thing is so damn cute. I’m gonna order like five of them for myself,” they said as they offered Berni the handkerchief she had given them.

“Oh no, you can keep it. I’ve got plenty,” Berni told them. “Do you mind if I keep yours though? It’s got all my snot on it, but I love how big it is. It’s perfect for my big sneezes and blows.”

“Of course,” Sam said, “maybe we can swap more hankies some time.”

“You know what, before you go, I’ve got plenty of time left before my next class. Do you wanna see my hanky collection in my dorm room?” Berni asked.

“Of course,” Sam replied.

Berni removed the key to her dorm from her pocket as she dabbed her nose with her new (albeit now quite grubby) hanky. Unfortunately, she then opened the dorm to reveal it was not as empty as either assumed. Inside was a tall, lanky, redheaded girl rummaging through a dresser whom Sam immediately recognized as Lottie.

Berni was visibly startled by Lottie’s unexpected presence in the room. She immediately moved to try to hide her handkerchief, but Lottie turned around before she could hide it. However, when Lottie turned around, it was not Berni she addressed, but Sam, “Oh, hi Sam, it’s good to see you again,” she said flirtatiously, “I see you’ve already met my roommate…”

“Hi Lottie. Turns out that me and Berni sit next to each other in Latin. I thought the lecture was honestly really boring, but I sat next to Berni and she helped keep me awake through it, so we went to go get some lunch together,” Sam explained as Berni began to frantically wipe her dripping nose with her handkerchief.

“Oh, great,” Lottie said with positivity quickly fading from her voice. “Ew, gross. Where did you get that thing? It looks like a napkin you took out of a restaurant and contaminated with all your wet goop.” Clearly deeply shaken by Lottie’s insults to Sam’s handkerchief, Berni tried to step back behind Sam to hide, but her hiding place was given away by a pair of hastily muffled

“Hrppshh! Hmpffshh!”’s

“Oh, great, now you’re sneezing everywhere. Way to kill a girl’s appetite before lunch Miss Snot Factory.”

“Hey, she has allergies. Allergies suck. She can’t just not be allergic.” Sam told Lottie.

“Yeah, but the least she can do is try to hold it in or take it somewhere else?”

“Hold it in? She can’t hold it in! And where else would she take it? This is her dorm room.”

“What’s a cute boy like you doing with her,” Lottie said, changing the subject as she moved uncomfortably close to Sam.

“Lottie, they’re non-binary,” Berni said through her handkerchief.

“No, it’s okay. I’m okay with boy,” Sam reassured, “But to you Lottie, I’d prefer to just be Sam.”

There was a long uncomfortable silence before Lottie picked up her backpack, slung it over her shoulder, exited the dorm room with a nonchalant, “Okay,” and slammed the door.

“I…I’m sorry for that,” Berni told Sam.

“For what?”

“She’s just been like that to me since I got here. Never to anyone else. Just…to me,” Berni explained dejectedly.

There was a long pause before Sam told her “You’ve dealt with enough for today. How about you show me your hanky collection.”

“Okay,” Berni said, becoming noticeably happier and giving Sam another momentary glimpse of her wonderful smile.

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heynowisavedyouright · 11 months

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ask you what? you have words for me? bestow your wisdom ig

the $ame thing you a$ked tumblr u$er totallynotrico anon . $ad $igh my legacy of being a deranged $wagdoon$ main i$ being forgotten . one day ill write that 16k out$ider$ a$h au and then youll know ( <- denial )

$pecifically thi$ thing ->

there . arent that many Video$ per $e related to them out$ide of the $eaclean video i Would have to redirect you to the zombie ap one a$ rico did , correct . id al$o have to add that early $3 video where they lead oppo$ing team$ and the late $3 video where a$h get$ red into team chao$ and then accidentally betray$ him ( And the boo$fer video on phobia$ + red$ pov of it )

if youre not repul$ed by the $heer idea of watching vod$ and vod clip$ then youre in luck bc mo$t of their deal i$ in vod$ ( yawn ) which i$ more red on their $3 dynamic 1/2 , their early $4 thing ( you could probably find $ome $tuff in poafa$ ... third ? $tream of $4 where a$h get$ $pawnkilled for a while and red pick$ him up but i never got around to that )

then obviou$ly their earthbound deal which . the Plot they have covered in their video$ 1/2/3 but for any actual interaction$ youd have to look up the trial vod and their war again$t bofa finale vod nod nod

theyre al$o canonically divorced of $ort$

and ending off with the la$t part of $4 which neither of them will have made into video$ for another hundred year$ or $o there$ the blurch vod where they hang out for an hour . the fight for the crown that ha$ a prime $wagdoon$ moment ( time$tamped ) . the Entirety of thi$ vod . ju$t click thirty minute$ in and watch no context . the main pov doe$nt have any either youll enjoy it . then thi$ $hort thing

im $kipping on a bunch of clip$- oh right blockwar$ . al$o blockwar$ . but tho$e are a whole nother thing from what i think you a$ked for originally ? a couple of the$e link$ are clip$ anyway lmao

#feltixanswers #anon handle #swagdoons #li$ten it$ hard to $ee people go around a$king other$ abt what $wagdoon$ i$ and having to claw at the bar$ of my cage #$lipped !

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yummyburger101 · 26 days

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1 million cats in your home

🐈THI🐈S 🐈🐈🐈IS 🐈🐈DEL🐈IGH🐈TFUL🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈

#i will have to take more than the daily recommended Amount of zyrtec

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uma1ra · 11 months

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There are some protocols that you should follow whenever you say a Duaa'. The more you abide by them, the more likely your Duaa' is coming true:

1- Start by praising Allah, saying: Allahumma lakal-hamd. Antal-hayyu Al-qayyoum. Anta Thul-jalali wal-ikram. (Say it as many as you can, even at times you don't say Duaa')

2- Then ask His Almighty to bless the Prophet, the Al-bayt and the prophet's companions: Allahumma Salli Wa-sallim Ala Rasoulika Wa Nabyyoka Muhammad Wa-Ala ‘Allihi Wa Sahbihi.

3- Then ask Allah his forgiveness to you, your parents, and all Muslim believers: Allahumma Igh-Fir Lee Wa-lee-Walidayya Wa-lil-Mo'meneen Wal-Mo'minat Wal-Muslimeen Wal-Muslimat Al-Ahyaa'i Minhom Wal-Amwati.

4- Say your Duaa' (whatever you wish) with deep certainty that Allah is able to achieve your desires.

5- Again, say (No. 2) just once more

6- Finally, say (No. 1) just once more

May Allah achieve your dreams and appeals In-Sha'-Allah.

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mushed-kid · 3 months

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Who was your least favorite teacher ever? What sins did they commit? Mine was a music teacher in elementary school who screamed in my face for 5mins straight because I asked whether boys were allowed to sing opera (I didn't know man)

💀

i have so many

1. we had a really strict and just scary teacher once like chill im seven

2. music teacher that i actually liked but i fucked up playing on the drums (first time ever touching a drum set) and my rythm was so bad he just sent me away after like two seconds💀 i was like 10 maybe

3. music teacher everyone seemed to like but i hated her she was so fake ass bitch fuck her i dont like her

4. english and religion teacher that was just the worst ever igh he was so annoying and dumb

5. oh wnglish teacher that everyone always trashed on but i felt bad so i liked her but then once i had a presentation which is bad enough in itself but then she also in front of wveryone said that i wasnt good

6. gym and food/healthclass teacher that was just super annoying and also just disliked all the students for some reason. also tried to make me admit i skipped class but she didnt actually have proof so she had to drop it because i lied and said i didnt

7. had a math teacher that was a nice person i guess but he wasnt good at teaching so we got a new one cause everyone complained lmao

thats all i remmeber rn, i think nr. 5 wins thoguh cause she really hurt my feelings and i almost started crying in front of everyone😔 i knew how to pronounce everything i was just so nervous i couldnt speak

#mush ask #rip

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aktionfsa-blog-blog · 4 months

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Zur Eilentscheidung des IGH

IGH-Urteil: "Zivilbevölkerung in erheblich höheren Maß zu schonen"

Die Eilentscheidung des Internationalen Gerichtshofs in Den Haag, der einem Antrag Südafrikas teilweise stattgegeben hat die Schutzmaßnahmen für die palästinensische Bevölkerung erheblich erhöhen, kam sehr schnell. Eine Entscheidung in der Hauptsache, ob Israel im Gaza-Streifen Völkermord begeht, wird sicher einige Jahre dauern.

Doch die Eilentscheidung war sehr deutlich. Das Vorgehen der israelischen Armee gegen islamistische Milizen - also eigentlich eine Polizeiaktion - wobei nach Angaben der Behörden in Gaza mehr als 25.000 Menschen getötet worden sind, die meisten davon Zivilisten, entspricht nicht den humanitären und völkerrechtlichen Grundätzen. Lediglich dem Antrag von Südafrika ein Ende des Militäreinsatzes im Gaza-Streifen anzuordnen, kam das Gericht nicht nach.

Auch in den UN Gremien gibt es massive Kritik am militärischen Vorgehen Israels. Nur einige westliche Staaten – allen voran die USA und Deutschland – halten an ihrer Solidarität mit dem israelischen Staat fest, ungeachtet von dessen Handlungen und der rechtsnationalen Regierung, die selbst in Israel zuletzt erheblichen Widerstand erfahren hat, schreibt Telepolis.

Telepolis verweist in diesem Zusammenhang auch auf die Aussage Namibias Präsident Hage Geingob, der seine "tiefe Besorgnis" über die Entscheidung der deutschen Regierung äußerte, die Vorwürfe Südafrikas zurückzuweisen. Er bezeichnete dies als "schockierende Entscheidung" und erinnerte an den Massenmord an Mitgliedern der Volksgruppen der Herero und Nama durch Deutschland in den Jahren zwischen 1904 und 1908.

Auch die Drohung westlicher Staaten die finanzielle Unterstützung von Hilfslieferungen durch die UNRWA - völlig entgegen der IGH Entscheidung zur Ausweitung - einzustellen, ist unverständlich. Weil 10 UN-Mitarbeiter von 12.000 UN-Beschäftigten im Gaza Streifen vermutlich auf Seiten der Hamas tätig gewesen sein sollen - also weniger als 1 Promille - die humanitäre Unterstützung für 1,7 Millionen Menschen einzustellen, ist mindestens Sippenhaft. Genau ein solches Verhalten kritisiert Südafrika auch in seiner Anklage.

Auch auf der Petitions- und Spendenplattform Avaaz wird gefordert, an Präsident Biden und andere wichtige Regierungen zu appellieren, damit sie Israel dazu bringen, der Anordnung des Gerichtes zu folgen. Journalistinnen, Journalisten und Menschenrechtsgruppen in Gaza brauchen dringend finanzielle Unterstützung, um weiterhin Beweise für Kriegsverbrechen sammeln zu können. Wir könnten sie mit Kameras, Computern und Schutzausrüstung versorgen und so dazu beitragen, dass die Anklage gegen Israel hieb- und stichfest wird.

Das höchste Gericht der Welt ist sich einig, dass die Warnsignale für einen Völkermord allgegenwärtig sind. Israel blockiert die Versorgung mit Lebensmitteln und Medikamenten. Unschuldige Zivilistinnen und Zivilisten werden kaltblütig erschossen und 85 % der Bevölkerung Gazas sind ohne Obdach. Nun hat das Gericht Sofortmaßnahmen angeordnet, um genozidale Handlungen gegen das Volk der Palästinenserinnen und Palästinenser zu verhindern.

Die Menschen in Israel müssen sich auch bewusst sein, auch wenn es ihre rechtsgerichtete Regierung aus ideologischen Gründen nicht ist, dass das Elend im Gaza Streifen nur weitere Menschen in die Arme der Islamisten treiben wird. Auch wenn inzwischen fast alle Krankenhäuser in Gaza zerstört wurden, sind dort allein in den letzten 110 Tagen rund 20.000 Kinder geboren worden. Verhindern wir, dass sie zu potentiellen Hamas-Kämpfer werden ...

Mehr dazu bei https://www.telepolis.de/features/Internationaler-Gerichtshof-Israel-muss-Zivilbevoelkerung-in-Gaza-besser-schuetzen-9610550.html

Kategorie[21]: Unsere Themen in der Presse Short-Link dieser Seite: a-fsa.de/d/3yE Link zu dieser Seite: https://www.aktion-freiheitstattangst.org/de/articles/8665-20240129-zur-eilentscheidung-des-igh.html

#Israel #Palästina #Urteil #IGH #Südafrika #Namibia #Atomwaffen #Militär #Bundeswehr #Aufrüstung #Waffenexporte #Drohnen #Frieden #Krieg #Friedenserziehung #Menschenrechte #Zivilklauseln

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salineroses · 9 months

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yo i feel like i’ve sent you like 5 asks in the past 2 days (idk how accurate that number is) so sry about that, my brain just has random thought and thinks “yo i should ask someone this on tumblr :D”

anyway: idk if it’s just me but i feel like i haven’t really seen much love for Warsaw on tumblr. whats ur thoughts on the songs, and could i possibly get like a tier list of WU&IO?

hi mate i just checked this is the 4th- but compared to my response of 1, i gotta get back to those (as always, love your asks)

I don't think i've talked about warsaw enough on here. if i get an earworm for any wu&io song, it's warsaw. 90% of the time, this is my comfort song from the entire album. does that have anything to do with the fact that my own vocals are imo better than wil's vocals for this one? ...maybe. in it's own right, it's a really good song. also i can connect it to my favourite movie '7 anos', bcos i spotted a smeg fridge on a rewatch and pointed at the tv screen while going "SAT AROUND A NEW SMEG FRIDGE SINGING WE'RE OH SO APATHETIC'. speaking of which, most uses of apathetic in a single song- warsaw wins by a landslide. also, it's the song that matches most with the album cover, very pog.

for the ratings, i've been meaning to get to that for a while, thanks for reminding me!

back in May, this was the order:

Portrait of a Blank Slate (if i could call a song my wife, it would be this one)

Scum (my los camp!-esque paramour)

CMWYL (couldn't put it any lower, this shit consumed me in Feb)

It's Golden Hour Somewhere (brilliant song. very based.)

Consequences (the first two seconds>>>; also relatable)

Warsaw (trust me the only reason it's down there is cos of the vocals; same reason i give sex sells og a hard time)

now, however

1. Call Me What You Like (nope. can't even put it on the list. too much bias. entirely cos of the music video. planes are so freaking cool. did you know that the plane in cmwyl is a boeing 737-600? the boeing is replaced by wu&io, but still. only 69 of these- the actual plane- were ever made. about 24 are still in operation as of 2021, so must be lower now. the model is very similar to the actual plane. the 737-600 was the smallest of the new generation 737's, and was made for short distance flights. didn't work that well economically that's why a lot of the got scrapped. it's curious that the model in the mv is flying over a vast water body, cos that would only happen over coastal domestic flights. most of the current 600's are used in Canadian domestic flights, forgot the name of the airline but-)

(can you tell i have a lot to say about this)

2. Scum (due to my current los camp! obsession)

3. Portrait (i'm sorry my wife)

4. Warsaw (for aforementioned reasons, it's a bop)

5. ighs (sorry, don't think bout it that often, still incredibly based)

6. Consequences (the first two seconds still>>>. still very relatable. too relatable. one of my most popular posts used to be a lame reference to consequences. i'm trying to get my irl friends to listen to lovejoy through this one)

also i've been collecting all the rankings lists for wu&io i could find on tumblr dot com in a tag, #train wrankings. if you'd like to check it out :]

#train wrankings #this was long #i am on a laptop so i can type more #asksks #how to spel wiblur #<- i think this was the tag??#tumblr's not helping me out here

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rosecrunchly · 1 year

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After listening to WU&IO for the past 24 hours and not playing anything else i have my rankings.

1. POABS

2. Scum

3. Warsaw

4. IGHS

5. CMWYL

6. Consequences

#literally all of them are bangers but these are just my thoughts #lovejoy #wake up and its over #wake up and it’s over #wu&io #rankings #lovejoy wu&io

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sheyshocked · 1 year

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Baby It’s All Just Chemistry (2/?)

Chapter title: Medic Has the Bloodiest Hands

Summary: Chemist meets the Medic and things go south very quickly.

Fandom: Team Fortress 2

Ship: Scout/Original Female Character (main), Heavy/Medic (minor), RED!Demo/BLU Soldier (minor) - all in later chapters

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, open-heart surgery

A/N: Me: “I need to look up something about the Cold War, Interpol, and a Berlin Wall for my fic.” My bro: “Eh… and don’t you mind that it takes place in canon where New Zealand sank to the bottom of the ocean, Australians are superheroes with bushy mustaches, and where Tom Jones was killed off twice?” Me: “…I just think it’s neat.”

Previous chapters: 1 |

You can also read it on ao3!

Fate, if there was indeed such a thing, had a strange sense of humor. How else could Chemist explain that not even a week ago, she was waiting on death row, and now? She had a well-paid job, a roof over her head far from the greedy hands of the communist party, and as a bonus from her generous employer, a bunch of guinea pigs to take care of. Sure, most of her new coworkers seemed rather… unusual, but other than that?

It was an odd turn of events, but not an unwelcome one.

Trying to keep up with Spy and his oh-so-long legs was a losing fight. Not nearly as bad as when she walked with Scout, but at least the buck-teethed youth slowed down every now and then to let her catch up with him. Sure, she could have just asked Spy to do the same… but she didn’t want any of those guys to think she was weak right off the bat. They were all trained killers, and from what she had gathered from her talk with Miss Pauling, weren’t half-bad at their job.

Better not to let them think she would make an easy target.

They chatted a lot on their way, both in Czech and in English. It seemed like Spy had a real talent for languages. Any tongue he switched to sounded nearly immaculate if it weren’t for his prominent French accent. It was pretty impressive, to be honest.

She thought her language skills were also nothing to sneeze at – with her Czech, Slovak, English, some German, and Russian (though hell would sooner freeze over before she spoke any of that language). But she was nothing compared to Spy. And it made sense. With his line of work, he must have been to many different countries. Their family trips to Yugoslavia couldn’t compare. But she had left the Iron Curtain behind. She was free to go wherever she wanted once she gets a vacation.

It was a bitter irony now that she could see the world, all she wanted was to go home. She didn’t think she would miss her country all things considered, but she did.

To get rid of all the painful thoughts, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “So… that guy who’s just offered me a drink. Is it even allowed here? I mean, it sounds kinda dangerous, to be drunk on the job.”

Spy gave her a smirk. “Mademoiselle, we’re guns for ‘ire. No one cares what we are doing in our spare time, as long as there isn’t some catastrophic property damage. And you’ll soon find out that Demoman is a very ‘igh functioning drunkard. A sad one, certainly, but gets the job done.”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” she mumbled, feeling kinda silly now. It wasn’t her place to judge anyone here. God knows she had her own problems.

Just to keep the conversation flowing, she asked: “And that lanky fellow, Scout, does he flirt with everything that moves?”

This time, Spy groaned and rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Unfortunately, yes. But don’t worry. The boy is all bark and no bite. Just ignore ‘im and ‘e’ll go away.”

Called it. She knew a lot of guys like that back in her college days. Loud and obnoxious, but overall harmless. As long as it wouldn’t take poisoning his food to make him back off, they would get along just fine.

They went down a long corridor with many doors. Each had a symbol drawn upon them. They were all similar to the one she had on her Mann Co.-issued uniform. Hers depicted a flask with a skull and crossed bones. She rather liked it. It was simple, straight to the point.

Spy led her to the last entrance on the left. It was the only one without a mark. She glanced at the door next to it to get an idea of who was gonna be her neighbor – the symbol there depicted a shoe with wings. That was most likely a reference to Hermes, the messenger of gods. Whoever stayed in that room had to be quick on his feet. Her best tip was the Scout.

Just her luck. She had to bunk right next to the guy who tried to hit on her. Perfect.

Spy was kind enough to open the door for her and she waltzed right in, setting the crate on the ground next to the bed. Finally! She wouldn’t be able to carry it for much longer. She wiped the sweat off her brow and opened the lid with holes to check on the guinea pigs.

As soon as the lid went off, they all started wheeking and running around, thinking they were about to get a treat. Poor guys. The journey here was a long one and the heat nearly unbearable, but thank god, all six of them made it in a good health.

“Ugh, what’s that?” Spy scoffed, a disgusted sneer on his face. What, did he not like animals?

“My guinea pigs! To run experiments on and such.” Technically not a lie. She did get them for work. So what that she wouldn’t use them for their original purpose?

Spy didn’t seem to approve either way. “Just make sure they won’t escape their containment. I would ‘ate to ‘ave vermin running through my closet.”

“There are far worse things you could have there, you know?” she rolled her eyes. It was a little disheartening. She was hoping some of her teammates would share her enthusiasm for small rodents. But then again, looking at Spy’s neat suit, it was no wonder he didn’t. Fancy people rarely appreciated pets.

His loss.

“But don’t worry,” she reassured him. “They will get a proper cage soon. No escape attempts.”

She started rummaging through her large backpack. There should be a few carrots prepared for her little charges. Hm, but where were they now?

She brushed away her gas mask and a case with her reading glasses until her fingers closed around a pack of vegetables. Excellent.

She glanced back at Spy, who was watching her with a keen eye. “Please, is there a sink somewhere? I need to clean these and refill their water bottle.”

“Stay away from the sinks if you can. The tap water in the whole town is full of lead – that’s why we left some bottled water by your bedside.”

That made her perk up. “Lead? But that’s amazing! I haven’t studied severe lead poisoning in… well, ever! Tell me, has anyone tried it yet?”

Spy looked weirded out at first, but that was fine. Most people did. She was used to it by now. Her methods may be unorthodox, but no one could deny they were damn effective.

Just not always the way she intended.

“You might want to ask Soldier. I ‘ave a feeling ‘e didn’t get the memo.”

She grinned. “I will ask him! Thanks.” Her gaze shifted back to her guinea pigs. They were getting impatient now, climbing one another to try and get out of the box. “Oh, but I have to remember to give piggies only the bottled water. Lead might be too much for their little organisms, poor things.”

Well, she should get down to business.

As she was taking care of her pets, humming a soft tune while doing so, Spy was watching her with his piercing gaze. It made her nervous as all hell.

No way I’m gonna unpack my things in front of him, she thought solemnly.

“There, all done,” she turned to face him once again, trying to appear more stoic than she felt. Only then she realized she was fidgeting with her hands like some damn schoolgirl. Drat! So much so for trying to seem tough. “Eh, you said you need to take me to the Medic’s office for a check-up, right? How about we go now?”

Thank god he didn’t comment on her unease, even though he had to see it clear as day. Instead, he accommodated her, saying: “Of course. Follow me.”

He gave her a quick tour through the entire base, showing her all the important places – shooting range, laundry room, Engie’s workshop, rec room as well as the showers. That last one gave her a pause.

It reminded her of her prison experience. No booths, no privacy, nothing. Just a bunch of ugly shower heads sticking from the walls. At least the tiles looked somewhat clean, but that set the bar pretty low.

Bloody hell. Off to a great start.

“I guess you don’t have a women’s bathroom here, right?”

It wouldn’t make much sense, since she had yet to see another woman on the base, but hey. Hope dies last.

“Non.”

…Hope died in the vanguard.

“But that’s quite easy to fix. We can always create a schedule, so you won’t ‘ave to share with the others.”

Well, it was far from ideal, but it was something. Either way, she was glad Spy was so considerate. He could also tell her to suck it up, that she is now a mercenary first and woman second, but something told her he also wasn’t fond of communal showers. Had to be that balaclava of his. The air of secrecy around him.

Did he ever take it off in front of the others?

“Thanks, that sounds great.” She paused for a few seconds, squinting at the door. There was no lock on it. “And they won’t peek or anything while I’m in here?”

Spy honest to god chuckled. “I doubt it. We may be the scum of society, Mademoiselle, but we would never ‘arass a teammate like that. But if someone does? You ‘ave every right to shoot them right between the eyes.”

Finally, they turned around the corner and went to the Medic’s domain. Spy stopped right in front of the door with a big red cross on it and lit himself a cigarette. Then, he turned towards Chemist. “I’ll ‘ave to leave you now, I still ‘ave other business to attend to. It was a pleasure meeting you, Chemist. Au revoir.”

With that, he pressed a button on his watch and disappeared into a thick cloud of smoke. Some of it got stuck in her nose and made her sneeze. Woah, what the hell was that? Her eyes darted around in a desperate attempt to find him, but no luck. Wonderful. A man who could become invisible on a whim had to be a pain in the neck on the battlefield.

But the clock was ticking. She better get this over with and see the Medic.

It would be rude to enter without knocking, she thought, so she first rapped her knuckles on the door. No response. She heard faint music through the wood (it sounded like Beethoven, but she couldn’t be quite sure), so he was definitively in there. Just didn’t hear her. She tried once more, but with the same results. That’s when she threw her politeness aside and simply invited herself in.

Unfortunately, she ran into a tall dark-haired man who looked like he was about to exit the clinic. He nearly dropped the folder of papers he was carrying. “Ah, entschuldigung, Mädchen! I haven’t heard you come in!”

Oh. So their doctor was German. And a handsome one, too. Not that it mattered or anything! It just caught her off guard. She wasn’t expecting so many fellow Europeans on the team. It made her feel a little more at home.

“No, no, I apologize, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have barged in like this when you didn’t hear me knocking the first time. Anyway,” she pushed a hand in between them for him to shake, but she did it so clumsily that she nearly punched him in the stomach. “I’m Chemist, your new coworker. Nice to meet you, sir…”

Amazing, she had to roll her eyes at her own antics and chuckled nervously in an attempt to save her face. As if anything could save after this horrible display. Are you gonna twirl your hair in front of him like some dumb teenager too? Pull your act together!

Thank god the good doctor didn’t make a meal out of it. He even giggled – did she hear that right, did he really giggle? – before shaking her hand. Much like Engie, he had a nice, steady grip.

“Medic, at your service.” He bowed to her, which made her chuckle a little. It was so silly and charming at the same time. No one has ever done this to her before. “Tell me, have you seen Heavy around? I was waiting for him to stop by, but he still hasn’t shown up.”

Her face fell. “The big guy? Sure. He was in the cafeteria.”

“That does sound like him,” the doctor chuckled while fondly rolling his eyes. “He gets so distracted by his sandwiches he forgets all about time. But nevermind. Let me look at you.”

Once she nodded, he started studying her features with rapt attention. He even circled her a few times, raising her arm as if he were testing her joints. Odd, but she let him do whatever he had to do. In the end, he gave her a toothy wolf-like grin.

“You seem to have a perfect bone structure. That’s wunderbar! At least you’ll be able to take quite a few punches before collapsing.”

“Um, thanks…?”

“A mere observation, Fräulein. Don’t worry about it.” A sinister smile found its way onto his face. No matter how handsome he was, it was still creepy as hell. It wasn’t enough to make her reconsider all of her life choices that led her here, but it was still pretty damn close. “You are also just the right size for me to use that Loch Ness monster’s heart I’ve been saving for special occasions. What a lucky day!”

…Okay, this was weird. What was he even talking about? A Loch Ness monster’s heart? Unfortunately, before she could ask what did he mean, he ushered her deeper into the room, showing her an empty chair to sit on. “But first let’s start with your examination, ja? Take a seat, please. I will be right back.”

Too late to run, she obeyed, looking around so she could figure out an escape route, in case something went amiss. Not that she believed it would, it was just better to be prepared. Being hunted down by the police taught her that.

The room was large, probably fit to serve as a surgical theatre in need, and cramped with all sorts of medical equipment. The first thing that caught her attention was the huge examination table standing right innocuously in the middle. There was some sort of an… instrument? hanging above it. It looked like a homemade gun, but not quite. Hm, what purpose could it possibly serve?

She also noticed an old record player, the one she heard playing before she entered the clinic, lots of buckets for some reason, a fridge (for snacks?), and… wait. What was that noise?

First, she heard a soft fluttering of multiple wings, then, cooing. She looked up and noticed a flock of snow-white birds, just hanging around. One with suspiciously dirty feathers flew down and sat on Medic’s shoulder, who immediately started petting him and crooning at him. Such an adorable view. It took her almost embarrassingly long to realize there were living birds inside the infirmary, which should have high hygienic standards.

“You have doves here?”

Medic snapped his head around as if he only now remembered she was waiting there. “Oh, ja. Miss Pauling ordered me to keep them in a cage after the last incident, but they always seem to find a way to break out and free themselves. Isn’t that right, Archimedes?”

He gently ruffled the feathers of the dirty dove sitting on his shoulder, who gave him an agreeable coo in return. Wait. The bird’s name was Archimedes? Aww. Now that she thought about it, she still had to name her guinea pigs.

“They are cute. Can I pet one?”

This seemed to take Medic by surprise, but after giving it some thought, he shrugged, nearly shaking poor Archimedes off. “Hm, I don’t see why not. Just be careful. They have very sharp beaks.”

He picked some basic medical instruments like a stethoscope and that thing for measuring blood pressure (with that horrible long name in English she could never memorize) and walked back towards her with Archimedes ready on his arm. The little bird was watching her with his tiny bead-like eyes. But once she reached for him, he let out a screech and flew away.

“Archimedes, that’s rude! Sorry, Fräulein, he’s a little bit shy around new people. Give him time. In the meantime, we can proceed with your check-up, hm?”

She nodded with a slight pout. She couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed Archimedes didn’t take a liking to her immediately. But then again, Medic was right – pets took a lot of time to warm up to a person. Besides, she had more pressing matters to worry about right now.

The examination was pretty standard – some measuring of weight and height as well as blood pressure. The good doctor listened to her heart, took a sample of her blood (probably more than was needed, but hey, she wasn’t complaining), and asked some simple if a bit uncomfortable questions. The usual stuff.

In the end, he seemed quite pleased with the results, which made her feel oddly proud. Like she just got a good mark from her favorite college professor. Completely normal.

But then it took a sharp turn.

“All right, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary, except for the slight arrhythmia. That means it’s time for the surgery!” he flashed her that grin from ear to ear again. “Strip down to the waist and lie down on the examination table, bitte.”

WHAT?!

It happened so fast, her brain had trouble catching up. Confusion and concern in equal measure flooded her mind. And everything became much worse when she saw the scary-looking bone saw he pulled out from somewhere.

“Wait, hold on!” she choked up, her throat feeling way too constricted to talk normally. “You said everything was fine, so what kind of surgery are you talking about?!”

He arched one eyebrow at her, puzzled. As if she was the one who was acting unreasonably, and not him. “You haven’t read the contract?”

Can’t say she did. Not the entire thing. It’s hard to pay attention when you are on the run from jail. The only condition she read thoroughly was that any relationships between the two teams were strictly forbidden, but that didn’t make much sense to her back then. So she frantically shook her head, which made Medic frown.

The only thing scarier than his smiles was his dissatisfied face.

“One of the requirements for this job is open-heart surgery. In short, I’m gonna replace your heart, so it won’t explode inside your ribcage when I use my übercharge on you. Any questions before we get on with it?”

Oh Lord. She was gonna die here, wasn’t she?

But not without a fight.

There was a scalpel lying on the table right next to her arm. It wouldn’t be her weapon of choice under any circumstances, but right now it was her best shot. Her hand shook so badly when she grabbed it. Without thinking twice, she struck blindly in the general direction of the madman.

A sharp hiss told her she haven’t missed.

She opened her eyes only to see a nasty, bleeding scar on one of Medic’s sharp cheeks. There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. She wasn’t gonna stand around and wait for him to strike back.

Before he could grab her and probably slam her on the table like a disobedient cat, she slipped right underneath his arm (advantage of being this short, she mused) and ran for the door. Thank god it wasn’t that far.

She reached for the handle, pressed it… and got nothing. The door was stuck. Damn it! This was like a prom night all over again. A living nightmare. Did he lock the door when she wasn’t looking?! Cold sweat ran down her forehead as she started pulling it about with all her weight, praying it would open. But it didn’t.

Well, she was positively screwed.

By now, he had enough time to get to her. He didn’t, though. Why? Afraid of what she was about to see, she glanced over her shoulder, the scalpel still in her hand, prepared to go for the throat if necessary, and was taken by surprise when she spotted Medic at the same place where she had left him, one finger stuck in the air as if he wanted to say something and was rudely interrupted.

The sheer bizarreness of the situation made her stop right in her tracks and stare at him owlishly, waiting for what he was about to do. She regretted not having her chemicals here. Even a stupid chlorine would do.

“Fräulein? Don’t try to force the door open, you’ll only make it worse. It gets jammed quite frequently. Now, calm down, it’s only a minor procedure, we all went through with it, even Herr Scout, so stop being such a baby and hop on the table. I won’t ask again.”

“Open-heart surgery, a minor procedure?!” she sputtered. “In what universe?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “In this one. You’ll see. So, what will it be? Do I have to restrain you or will you behave?”

This was so messed up, but something told her that undergoing it tied down to the table would be much worse, so she decided to obey, at least until she gets another opportunity to run. She climbed on the operating table and took off her lab coat, shirt, and after some hesitation, her bra. Heh, and to think Medic seeing her breasts became the least of her problems right now…

The doctor turned his back towards her, maybe to give her some semblance of privacy or, and that was the most likely option, to ready his instruments. There was her chance. She could knock him out and make a run for it.

Unfortunately, before she could grab something heavy, Medic turned towards her with a sadistic smirk on his face. Shit. Too late now.

“Are you at least going to give me anesthesia?”

Medic looked at her as if she grew a second head. Surely he couldn’t mean… “Nein, nein, that would be a waste. You won’t feel a thing anyway.”

Jesus Christ. She felt her heart beating so fast it could break her ribs and march out of her chest on its own. No need for surgery. Any second now, she was going to faint. Maybe that’s what Medic meant when he argued she won’t need any anesthesia. But then he turned the odd gun-like thing hanging above her on. She was immediately flooded with a strange tingling sensation.

“What’s that?”

“This? Oh, that’s just Quick-fix. It instantly heals you, so you won’t bleed out. Feels good, ja?”

“I don’t know. It’s… odd.”

The mad doctor leaned his head down in front of the scarlet fumes and turned his still-bleeding cheek towards it. A few seconds after that, the wound healed itself, not even leaving a scar behind. Chemist choked up on her saliva. What sorcery was this?! Well, not sorcery, everything had to have a scientific explanation, she just couldn’t find one right now.

“Woah! Doctor, what’s in those fumes? It’s not nitrous oxide, is it? I was trying to make something like this all my life and…”

Medic smirked. “Curious little thing, aren’t you? You know what, I might as well tell you if you stop squirming and let me do my job. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal!” With interest piqued, she ceased wiggling around and observed what was happening.

Having her chest split open with a scalpel was far from a pleasant sight, but she had to admit it didn’t hurt. Not even a little bit. Despite chattering and tittering the entire time, Medic worked fast and his hand was steady.

“Where are you from, Chemist? I’m from Stuttgart myself, but I’ve been quite the globetrotter, so I’m wondering if we’ve ever crossed paths before.”

She sincerely doubted it. She has never been to Germany, and even if, Stuttgart was “on the other side of the Berlin Wall”. Off-limits for people like her. “Perhaps. I’ve lived and studied in Prague.”

Medic’s face suddenly lit up. “Ah, Prague. Wonderful city. I spent some time there when I was younger. But then Interpol caught a whiff of my trail and I had to move again.”

“Wait. You’ve been searched for by Interpol?!”

“Ah heh, ja. It’s a little bit embarrassing. Happened shortly after I lost my medical license. Now now, stop hyperventilating, bitte. You’re spoiling my cuts.”

Easy for him to say. He didn’t have a man operating on him without a license. But then again, perhaps she should have been more surprised he had one in the first place. Everything about this was screaming malpractice. Even though she couldn’t deny he showed a lot of skill and precision while baring her organs underneath the skin and bones.

It took a while, but finally, her chest was wide open. At first, she tried to avoid looking at her innards, simply because it was too weird – and that was coming from a person who willingly joined a bunch of deranged mercenaries – but then Medic let out a fascinated whistle. She had to see what was going on. So she glanced down… and yelped.

When did her organs become so dark and shriveled? Her heart looked like an ugly little prune, liver resembled stone. Some other parts she couldn’t even recognize. Gross! How did this happen? And what did it even mean? Was she gonna die at the ripe age of twenty-three?

“Uh… this is not supposed to look like this, is it?” she asked, her voice getting an octave higher with hysteria. The piece of charcoal she called a heart immediately started pumping more blood into her body, preparing her for fight or flight. But what was she hoping to escape? Her own mangled guts?

Medic once again pushed his glasses up his nose, careful not to smudge them with her blood, which was still red and healthy-looking, thank god. Only then it came to her that he wasn’t wearing his gloves. How hygienic. Maybe sepsis would get her sooner than this madness.

“Ooh, fascinating! I’ve never seen so much damage in one body before.” Was that supposed to calm her down?! “I would have to run some tests to be sure what caused it, but given your line of profession… have you ever been poisoned, Chemist?”

That’s when it finally clicked. Oh. She gave him a tight little nod.

“Thought so. That had to be one hell of a toxin. I’m impressed you’re even alive.”

Despite everything, she forced a smug smile. “Thanks. It was my own recipe.”

“I see. Have you always had suicidal tendencies?”

“What? No, it wasn’t… it was an experiment gone wrong. I was testing a new solution and the next thing I remember, I woke up in a hospital. It’s simple as that.”

She never liked to talk about it. Not only because it was embarrassing, but also because no one ever understood. Not even her sister. Or dad. They all thought she was sick in the head. Poor little girl, playing with bad things hoping they would do any good. Bah! But Medic, he got it. She saw it in his eyes. That mad spark. His smile full of teeth.

“Splendid. A woman of science who’s also not afraid of experimentation. Though I would recommend using willing test subjects next time, rather than delving into it yourself. The results are more reliable, then. Much more satisfying, too.”

“Perhaps. But I kinda like it my way.” She was hoping he would leave it at that, and he did. With agreeable harumph, he went back to work.

“I’ll have to replace most of this, but don’t worry – you’ll soon be as good as new. Maybe even better.” His eyes shifted toward the mysterious fridge. So no snacks then. Shame. “Hm, now that I think about it, I don’t have any fresh livers at the moment. I used the last one on Herr Demoman. Ah, doesn’t matter. I’ll send Miss Pauling a request, it’ll just take a while. Come back later this week and we’ll get you all set up before your first real battle, ja?”

“All right. Thanks, doctor.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s my job. And also a hobby.”

He started digging around in her chest, cutting free the sad excuse of organs one by one and replacing them for more healthy-looking counterparts (she couldn’t help but notice he stuck some strange metal device in her new heart. Hopefully it was no self-destructive gizmo or something equally bad). She quickly lost track of time. It was taking soooo long. Even though Medic tried to humor her by talking to her, she still grew bored fairly quickly. She wasn’t used to just lay on her back, doing nothing. Solving equations in her head only helped so much.

She was just about to ask how much longer will it take, when Medic wiped the sweat off his brow and said: “All right, all done for now.”

He flipped the switch on the Quick-fix and… Woah! A gasp was punched straight out of her lungs as her flesh and bones started mending themselves right in front of her eyes. Just like that. It was done faster than it began, and Chemist immediately pawed at her chest, trying to find any proof she was operated on but found none. Not even a slight dent. If it didn’t go against everything she believed in, she would say it was a miracle.

Medic handed her her lab coat, so she quickly covered herself, then sat at the edge of the table and with stars in her eyes breathed out: “Doctor, that was amazing! I really didn’t feel a thing! Now you have to tell me everything about those fumes.”

He laughed before indulging her.

***

She spent another hour or so at the Medic’s office, just chatting about his greatest invention, but then Heavy showed up and she had to go. Maybe it was for the best. No offense, but she didn’t want to spend more time than she necessarily had to with some big scary Russian guy. Not after what happened back home.

Besides, the doctor seemed eager to shoo her away as soon as the other member of the team turned up. Pity. Or not. She still had no idea what to think of him. On one hand, he was extremely intelligent and seemed to know what he was doing. On the other, he was unhinged with no regard for ethics or morals. The duality of a man.

Well, it ended up way better than she expected. Which wasn’t saying much, since she thought she was going to be slaughtered and made into čevabčiči, but that wasn’t the point.

She whistled on her way back to her room. She felt so much lighter now. It better not be because the doctor forgot to put something essential back in, she shuddered at the thought, but she quickly put it behind herself. She was fine. Everything would be just fine.

As soon as the door closed behind her, she leaned against its frame, letting out a big sigh. Finally alone. Now she could look around, take it all in and unpack her things.

The room was small and very plain with only a simple bed, a small table and a wardrobe, a telephone, and the crate currently occupied by guinea pigs. Nothing special, but as a student, she survived worse. She grabbed her backpack and started unpacking.

She had just prepared clothes and her mask for tomorrow’s training when the phone started ringing. Odd. She wasn’t expecting a call. The only people she knew were still trapped in the old continent, so it could be only her boss. She picked it up and was greeted by Miss Pauling’s warm voice: “Chemist, it’s Pauling here. I got you the bag and all the chemicals you requested. I will drop by tomorrow and bring it to you.”

“So soon? Well, thank you, Miss. I was worried I was asking for too much, but it seems like you have it all covered, huh?”

“You bet,” Miss Pauling chuckled. “You’re welcome, by the way. Anyway, how did meeting the team go? I know they can be a bit too much, but you’ll soon get used to it, trust me.”

She chuckled. That was an understatement of the year, but she would take it. “It was fine. They were all very nice, all things considered. It’s just a lot to take in, I guess.”

“I know what you mean. Take your time. You’ll see it gets better.” A pause. Then: “Oh, and one more thing – I’ll have to speak with you in private once I see you. It’s about your sister.”

That made Chemist straighten up, hope filling her voice as she croaked out: “My sister? Have you found her? Is she… is she all right? Please tell me she’s all right.”

She heard a rustle on the other side, followed by a sigh. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you more right now. I promise I’ll explain when we meet again. Until then… goodnight, Chemist. Try to get some sleep. It’s a big day tomorrow.”

Disappointed, Chemist sank on her bed, the telephone still in her hand. Her only luck was that the wire was long enough so she could lie down without having to cut the call. “I see. Well, it was worth a shot. Goodnight, Miss Pauling. And thanks again. For everything.”

The call ended with a sheepish noise coming from the other end. Chemist held the phone receiver to her chest long after the sound of Miss Pauling’s voice was gone. She was the bravest, most badass woman she had ever met. She singlehandedly led her out of jail and smuggled her out of the country. If anyone could save Marie, it was her. She just had to be patient. Do her job, fight tooth and nail and wait. She could do that.

She stole one last long look at the picture now sitting on her bedside table before she went to undress and slip under the covers.

Hopefully, tomorrow would bring good things.

***

Translations and context: Spy: Au revoir – goodbye Medic: Entschuldigung, Mädchen – sorry, girl Medic: That’s wunderbar – That’s wonderful Medic: Fräulein – Miss Medic: Bitte – please

“family trips to Yugoslavia” – Yugoslavia was one of the few countries people from Czechoslovakia could visit (but getting permission to travel there wasn’t easy and usually part of the family had to stay, so those who went wouldn’t be tempted to emigrate). It was much easier to travel to Bulgaria, Hungary, Romania, or East Germany, but Yugoslavia remained one of the most popular. “nitrous oxide” – commonly known as a “laughing gas”, it has anesthetic and pain-reducing effects “Berlin wall” – also called “Wall of Shame” by the western authorities and “Anti-Fascist Protection Rampart” by the eastern ones, was built in 1961 (seven years before this story takes place) to separate West Germany from the East. East Berliners weren’t allowed to cross the border at all and risked being gunned down if they tried to escape “Interpol” – International Criminal Police Organization, founded on 7th September 1923 in Vienna under the name International Criminal Police Commission (ICPC), it got its name in 1956 (so only twelve years before the story of TF2 takes place; Medic would probably use the older name, but for the sake of clarity, I used the “newer” one) “čevabčiči” – common food made from minced meat served in many restaurants during the socialist era (but still popular to this day)

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 oc #tf2 spy #tf2 medic #tf2 miss pauling #tf2 tenth class #shey scribbles #multiple chapters #baby it's all just chemistry

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darkdreamtheorist · 10 months

Text

How I would write a Boom! Power Rangers Turbo origin story:

NOTICE: Long post. still editing

[Inspired by Channel Awesome's Fanscription series]

What if Power Rangers Turbo panned out differently? what if it used most but all elements of Carranger? What if all but the remains of the Zeo Crystals powered their new Turbo Ranger suits and zords via a young wizard mechanic from a star system of gearheads?

This outline's my attempt at a proper Zeo-Turbo power shift and major overhaul of the PRT series worthy of a Boom comic adaptation. No Divatox, no Lerigot, no inviso-chimp Bulk & Skull! It will, however, use a majority of Carranger material to try and balance out lighthearted and intense moments ala IDWs Ninja Turtles.

Roadwiz by Carlos “Carl Carson” Carona (now with 60% Carranger)

Part 1:

The Command Center receives a holiday vidcard from an unknown alienoid from an unverified star system, Prandal of Valan-8 (Hazardian Dapp), an Automage apprentice/big time Ranger aficionado, currently residing in Metroland Resort, located within the Intergalactic Highway (Baribarian), an orbiting metroplanet made of rows upon rows of interwoven roads and highways.

The vidcard plays a standard goodwill greeting, albeit wedged with plenty of distracting cheese-ball FX & b-roll:

“Axlent Greetings, Power Rangers! Prandal here, wishing you good times from Metroland Resort, where guests check in, but don’t wanna check out! Normally, I’d be studying Automagic with the other wizard mechanics on Valan-8, but they and the other guests from a bunch of different star systems are hooked with games, food, and music, plus the midnite show at Hailey’s Comet Bar with Star Dancer Radiel, Rygog’s favorite show! You guys should come stay for a few days from Earth. Oh, and you don’t need an astrocar or rocket to get there in who knows how many light years! The Intergalactic Highway will come to your star system and pick you, and any other inhabitants, right up! Metroland, Where All Roads Lead to Paradise!”

Analyzing the message, however, Alpha combs out bits of a distress signal within the vidcard’s code, cunningly hidden in those low-grade 80s graphics, along with coordinates to meet him in private at the afformentioned bar. Unscrambled, Prandal was merely warning the Rangers about Metroland & IGH’s true intentions:

“It was actually Rygog’s (Gynamo) Base for his Belt Duster crew (Bowzock), cosmic bikers bent on bedlam from across many galaxies, and Earth’s next! It siphons entire planets of its resources while their rides, buffets & shows distract the “guests”. Just as they are about to check out, a whopping service bill puts them to debt and their planets have already been sucked dry, dooming them to life as grunts for Rygog’s gang; a devious plan concocted by General Havoc (Ritchihiker), acting as Resort Manager. Prandal needs their help to save him and the imprisoned travelers, along with his Automage masters, and return those resources to their proper planets before Earth gets hooked into this tourist trap. He also says his reason for trusting the Rangers and his fellowship to their cause came about from heresay of those trapped in Metroland recounting the times Dex’s planet from the Plague Patrol, and when they dismantled Machine Empire (tech with Rita/Zedd’s backstabbery)”.

Prandal devises an elaborate rescue plan: a prisoner exchange with Rygog; his life for the Zeo Crystals. Before they realize they swapped the crystals with fakes, he’ll have infused them to his model cars with Automagic (kurumagic), giving the Belt Dusters a suprise attack by The Turbo Rangers and their mighty Turbo Megazord, ready to buff the skid marks off their grimey comet tail!!

He asks the Rangers to meet at the coordinates encoded in the vidcard for the exchange, Hailey's Comet Bar (BB Saloon). Sensing a possble trap, Zordon hails Billy on Aquitar to aid in the exchange. Alpha insists on tagging along since he & Prandal were pen pals after Edenoi was saved and the Machine Empire fallen by the Zeo Rangers

Billy arrives on Earth in a bent-out RADBUG with two protective attachés for the Zeo Crystals, picking up Alpha at the Command Center as they head back to Angel Grove in need of parts to soupe up RADBUG for deep space travel. One stop reunites Billy and Alpha with Tommy Oliver at his uncle’s auto shop Stallion Motors (Pegasus Auto Garage)!

At the auto shop, Alpha goes into "sleep mode" beside the garage entrance while Billy meets up with Tommy, reminiscing on old friends in college, globetrotting, Kimmy in Paris, etc.

Oliver's pit crew of Angel Grove freshman are taking extra credit at Stallion Motors, awe-gapped they'll be upgrading Billy's science fair project, not just for space travel, but make it a pleasing street legal ride: TJ assists Tommy with performance testing; Carlos helps Tommy & TJ repair & customize RADBUG while checking the books on recent repairs; Ashley's designs are given to Carlos; and Cassie spreads word of Stallion Motors to potential clients *some aspects of Carranger's team are shared between Turbo Ranger's teammates

A while later, Angel Grove’s new Smart Guy Justin arrives at the auto shop, ecstatic to hear of Billy's return, hoping he could be his mentor & guide, and help fix Ernie’s Juice Bar Builder for the Youth Center

Justin tells Billy how Ernie got a bar maker kit for his latest venture to create on-the-go jelly blocks with his specialty fruit drinks, even calling them Juice Bars for the pun alone, but after deputy cops Bulk & Skull swapped the fruit with root vegetables & tubers for a lark, the starch gunked the juice compressor and Ernie’s left with a small batch of veggie blocks (Imo Yokan). Lt. Stone asked Justin to fix his rookies’ mess given how much of Billy he saw in the boy and based on his high Aptitude score jumping him to high school

Later, Justin sees Alpha-5 resting by the garage entrance next to the tuned-up RADBUG-2, thinking he was a tutoring aide Billy built for a robotics museum, then checks the case containing the Zeo crystals

As he was about to inspect the Zeo Case further, Justin drops it and the crystals fall as Billy was heading back to his Souper Cooper leaving for his Ranger Mission

Justin kneels to grab the crystals before Billy could notice any tampering on the case, but his backpack zipped open and the compressor, veggie blocks, and some white carrots the same shape as the crystals drop to the floor. A panicked Justin stored the crystals in his pack and puts the carrots in the case

Billy & Alpha head off, RADBUG-2 ready for liftoff! But as Justin heads back to the Youth Center, he sees the Zeo Crystals in his backpack and Billy has the compressor and Zeo Carrots in RADBUG-2.

Has Justin discovered the Rangers’ secret identities? What fate lies in Justin How will he fix the Juice Bar Builder when it’s 7 Lightyears away from Angel Grove?!

Part 2:

Billy & Alpha arrive at the Metro planet orbiting Valan-8, landing near a gas station by their drop spot Hailey’s, a juice bar for alien travelers.

Disguised as an Aquitar nomad, Billy takes RADBUG-2 to a Shrek-eared mechanic to stow it in his garage

However, Alpha was in rest mode the whole trip and is captured by Manic Mechanic (MM Shuurisukii), fully knowing he’s Zordon’s assistant and the Rangers ally & friend

Manic Mech messes with Alpha’s systems by inserting a disc that programs him to only speak in nineties slang

Inside Hailey’s, Billy negotiates with Elgar (Zelmoda) & Porto (Grotch) for an exchange with their leader: the young automage for the Zeo Crystals, as Rygog heard of their tremendous power that could up the Dust Belter’s rep

The bar crowd silences as the floorshow begins, on stage was Radiel (Zonnette), Rygog’s GF who was actually an older princess of the Crysahliss Empire kipnapped by him and brainwashed by Porto

comment story edits for this outline. May not b good, still say major improvement on the 2nd PR movie

#power rangers turbo #origin story #rewrite #boom! comics #outline #fan comic #readaptation #carranger #fan script

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