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astonmartingf · 1 month

Text

IMPECCABLE TIMING . . . 🏁🍒🏎️

LICENSE TO DRIVE ; f1 driver!oc x platonic! f1 grid

. . . as a part of katarina's media duties in the paddock, the press questions about her "sudden" move to porsche, with people theorizing about her impeccable timing of doom.

amgf 2.1k words... set during the bahrain pre-race press conference, mention of red bull controversy, implied media play, mystery(?)

license to drive ; masterlist

SITTING FOR INTERVIEWS ISN'T REALLY KATARINA'S FORTE, just like the other drivers she'd rather race. But at the same time, she enjoys the chaos press interviews bring. Especially for the upcoming 2024 season, a lot has happened over the winter break.

One transfer which Katarina is heavily involved in, and despite not being one to tell all to the press, the feeling of slow feeding information to journalists, leaving crumbs of information here and there, laying down innuendos is more than enough for her to agree for the press conference schedule.

It's the first race of the season, drama is about to unfold, and Katarina is ready to watch them all from the palm of her hand.

Greeting the drivers, she sits right beside Lewis as the conference had just begun, with the host talking to Lando furthest to her. At the same time, Carlos walked from the sea of reporters, Lewis teasing him, gesturing his watch.

Katarina scoots over to the edge, with Carlos situated next to Lewis. Opting to get interviewed last, knowing very well of the questions she's about to receive.

The female driver keeps herself busy with her thoughts, listening in to some of the drivers and their questions. As much as she hated interviews listening in to the drivers answer repetitive questions was funny up to a point.

"This season is not only filled with finales but also debuts. Shocking everyone during the first half of winter break, having moved from Red Bull to Porsche. In her 8th season we have Katarina Lombardi— how do you feel about moving teams and debuting in Porsche for the season?"

Katarina smiles, picking up the microphone from Carlos beside her. "What a lengthy introduction that was. I think it was a pretty good move, I mean for me I moved a few times before, nothing shocking really it's just fun. I'm absolutely happy in Porsche— not that I wasn't in Red Bull mind you."

She clears the air and jokes around realizing the cameras pointing at her on live television. Watching Max from the corner squinting his eyes playfully, earning a small laugh from Karina.

"To me like what Lewis and Carlos have said, moving is a common occurrence in the sport, I mean just four years ago I was in Mercedes, and then moved to Red Bull, and now I'm in Porsche. It's our first year together and things are definitely looking interesting. Not just for me but for the whole team, we're learning together and getting through the ropes, I'm happy and I hope we can deliver through more of our goals."

Katarina smiles, satisfied with her answer, if it wasn't evident with the big smile on her face one can clearly see how she's enjoying this season. In fact, Katarina is excited, having worked with the car, their only goal was to score points, and if possible chase Max in his rocketship of a Red Bull.

Despite the rumors of her falsely being kicked out of Red Bull, Katarina left in her own volition. Offered a seat in Porsche, the female asked one question before solidifying a contract with the team.

When Porsche revealed they were planning on signing Liam Lawson to the team it was enough for her to move, she had faith in him, and together they could score points together. During the break she spent her time with Lawson in Germany testing the car. Which performed more than she expected, not bad for a first time, but the female knows the only results that matter is on the actual track.

"Hello, I am Felipe Santos. Question for Katarina Lombardi–" Your eyes perk up, as you watch a middle aged man in his forties from the back ask his question, "following your move to Porsche there has been a lot of speculation in your move, a lot pointing out the comedic timing of your move, back in 2021 from Mercedes to Red Bull and in the same year the championship went to Red Bull, and now with the issues going on in Red Bull, you moved teams to Porsche. People have been calling you a horseman of doom, are these issues the reason behind your move? Or are they mere coincidences that happen? Are you glad to have moved out from Mercedes and Red Bull?"

Katarina grabs the mic from Lewis, formulating her answer in her head before speaking. This is the type of questions the female's PR manager prepared her for, there are times for snarky remarks or sarcastic comments, and there are times for prepared responses, as what her PR manager instructed.

There is no such thing as a scripted answer, we are prepared when such occasions arise– yadda yadda yadda something about keeping the team's integrity or brand. Shit.

Katarina hums, filling the silence still contemplating on the response to give out, on the far corner of her eye she sees Nicolas, her PR manager staring at her, hands waving on his neck.

Breathing in at an attempt to keep her composure, but the insinuation of Katarina's move as some comedic timing, as if real people weren't involved fumed her in a different way.

She may act indifferently to the press about moving teams, and how her calculated moves benefited her, but they don't see the late night negotiations and hours of talking to lawyers and advisors for the best move.

She didn't like being involved in the drama one bit. "I think calling it comedic timing is inappropriate. Because the situation is not comedic at all, it's not funny, nor do I enjoy seeing my decisions plastered into this controversy. It's disheartening, in this time and age to hear about these allegations. I am glad to have moved but not at the expense of my decisions being held to a higher standard than the actual controversy going around."

Silence.

She could feel her PR manager rolling her eyes, but Katarina couldn't care less. It was one way to shut up the crowd, she was not about to let the media use her move from Red Bull to Porsche as a cover up story.

She's been in the sport for so long, things have to change. She passed the microphone back in Lewis' direction as the media got back to asking questions.

For the remainder of the interview, no one dared to ask her another question.

"WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?"

The first words Nicolas, her PR manager spoke as soon as she left the press conference schedule.

"It's the truth! What do you want me to say? Some neutral answer to pacify the press?" Rolling her eyes, Katarina entered the Porsche motorhome greeted by Alessia, her trainer who was waiting for her.

"You know that the team has given you freedom to speak whatever is on your mind, and we admire that. But a heads up could be good, I knew for a fact you weren't about to answer the memorized paragraph we spent hours together—"

"You want me to say it in a nicer way? Is that what you're implying?" Katarina cuts him off, turning around to face the man stressing about the stack of papers in between manila folders.

"The media will do everything to twist your words, tread lightly."

Katarina laughs, head shaking at his statement, "Yeah, and if they dare twist my words I'll just have to speak up more about it then. I worked hard for this, moving to Porsche was a gamble to my career! Not that I'm not enjoying it right now, it's definitely better than I expected, but for my move to be belittled as some comedic timing? No way! I fought my back out of Red Bull, they can't twist my words against me."

Nicolas nods his head slowly, arms rubbing around the female's shoulder trying to calm her down. "I know. I know how hard you worked to get out of Red Bull, and how Porsche is your saving grace for offering you a seat but they don't know that. They don't know you took one of their junior drivers, and that's what they're trying to get out of you. So calm down, and think before you speak- would be my advice as your PR manager. But as a friend, I want you to know that we're a team here, and whatever you plan on doing, we'll be here to support you, but don't go in blindly like that. Tell us, we've been through thick and thin, don't you dare think I'm about to leave you after working with you for the last 10 years."

A small smile curves up in Katarina's lips looking away bashfully at Nicolas, "Fine. As my PR manager I promise not to do things without telling you first. As a friend, thank you. For staying, and coming with me despite Red Bull's efforts to poach you undr my nose."

Leaving Red Bull was a sensitive topic for Katarina— but she'd rather act to the press about an amicable split then open up a whole can of worms. She had to leave and she doesn't like to talk about it.

Her decision to leave was done before the 2023 season even ended, yet none of the grid knew of her transfer. Not even her previous teammate Max, and other than Liam, after the news of Lewis' transfer to Ferrari, Katarina greenlit Porsche' announcement of her and Liam Lawson as their drivers for the upcoming 2024 season. That being said, her winter break was definitely eventful.

Raising her head from her notes, Katarina watches Lewis welcome himself in her motorhome.

"Katarina Anneli Lombardi, we're full of surprises this season huh?" Lewis closes the door behind him, getting comfortable beside you.

"I'd like to say the same with you, Ferrari, good choice— maybe by the time engine regulations come you'll come out on top, or Charles doesn't matter to me, I'll beat either of you."

Scoffing, Lewis closes Katarina's notes pushing her legs in his direction, facing him. "So, how did that happen?"

"I could say the same to you, you know." Katarina shrugs, parroting his own question back to him.

"Yeah we're not doing that. You know what's the deal with Mercedes, I'm glad you didn't sign that contract extension. But you, what happened?"

Looking away from Lewis hands settled on hers, zoning out on the wall behind his silhouette. Left frozen in her own thoughts, gulping as she avoids the question.

"If you're not ready to say anything, you don't have to say anything yet. I just want you to know that I will always support you."

The female blinked her thoughts away, slowly nodding her head digesting what Lewis said. "I'm glad you got out of Mercedes too. I hope this season will be kind to you."

Lewis laughs, dropping the topic behind them. "But during the press conference, what that interview said, comedic timing huh? Didn't even realize that."

Katarina sneers, "I almost got myself stuck in Red Bull if I didn't move then."

Her eyes widened, she spoke too soon without thinking. Fuck.

And Katarina was right, her words didn't fly past the older male beside her, raising his brows. "Katarina..."

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes as Lewis pulled up with his "serious dad" voice. "I promise you it's nothing."

"You say that, and then I find out later it's something serious. Anneli, what happened with Red Bull?"

The female shakes her head, refusing to answer. "I'm sorry Lewis, but now is really not the time to talk about this." Looking left and right the windows of her motorhome, Katarina stands up towards the door, checking if it's locked.

"I promise you I'm fine Lewis. Who else would I tell you if I don't feel good?" Twisting the door open, hiding her actions under the guise of a polite act, "But now it's time for you to leave because I have to rest and study for free practice. Now go back to your garage, they might tamper if you're not looking."

Lewis faces the younger incredulously, shaking his head, before pulling Katarina in a hug.

"I'll see you before free practice?"

Katarina ponders before turning her head side to side, "Nope, I'll see you after free practice."

Lewis hugs her once more before leaving her motorhome, the female standing by the door watching his back leave. Checking the area around the motorhome, Katarina takes note of the neighboring team garages beside them, to the right was the familiar Williams motorhome, and in front of them was the fiery red Ferrari.

Going back inside the comfort of her room, Katarina shakes off her thoughts focusing back on her notes for the upcoming practice. Knowing very well that there are vultures lurking, waiting for a feast before their eyes.

Only time will tell, but today isn't one of those days. Because like how the journalist coined, it'll all come in impeccable timing. She was a horseman of doom like they said, and soon she'll have to prove herself like she did eight years ago.

amgf why'd she leave red bull? i guess we'll find out soon hahahaha i enjoyed writing this so much, i think i'll be writing this following the 2024 season, of course tweaking the scenes a little bit but what an introduction! i can't wait to write more about her, and hopefully we see a more fleshed Katarina and how she came to become like this. enjoy 👍

#f1 driver oc #f1 female driver #f1 x oc #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fem driver #formula 1 x oc #formula one x oc

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sunnyie-eve · 7 months

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3 | Surprise

Series: Significant

Paring: Colby Brock x Original female character

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.6k

| MASTERLIST |

2016

Penelope was just getting back from spending a few months in Germany for work and the boys were picking her up from the airport.

"How much longer do you have to wait?" Colby complains on the phone to Sam.

"They said the flight is going to be slightly late."

"Ugh!" Colby groans.

"Dude, you chose to stay at the apartment and make sure the surprise is great for her." He says as Penelope walks up behind him:

"Surprise for who?" She speaks up making him jump up and hang up on Colby.

"Penny!" He hugs her, "And a surprise for you, of course." He smiles, "Come on, Colby is waiting at our apartment for you. He was just fixing it up for you." Sam helps taking one of her suitcases.

"I didn't think I was that important for a clean apartment." She jokes.

"Well, we didn't want you to see the place then clean it for us." He makes her laugh.

As they were driving, Sam saw Penelope texting someone, "Who are you texting?" He asks with his eyes on the road.

"Umm, a friend. Tomorrow we're supposed to hang out." She tells him. She couldn't say boyfriend because he wasn't really. They never gone on any dates or anything like that. Just met through a photoshoot and got close. "Met him working and he got here a week earlier than me. He said when I get back we can hang out the next day so I can get settled in."

"All readying ditching us, rude." Sam laughs as they arrive at the apartment.

"Hey, I came to you guys first before finding a hotel to stay at till I can get a place here." She says as he gets her bags.

"Don't worry about that right now." He gives her a wink.

Before even getting to the apartment door, Colby was waiting in the hall jumping up and down before running full speed at them, "Nelly Belly!" He tackles her into the wall hugging her.

"Dude, you act like we didn't talk over the phone." She hugs him back.

"But you were gone for almost like half a year so shut up." He squeezes' her to death.

"Alright. Now can we go into the apartment? I kind of have to pee." She laughs so he takes her suitcase and all three walk in. "Bathroom is this way." He shows her so she thanks him shutting the door.

Sam takes the suitcases he had of hers to her surprise, which was her having a room at their place. Colby then brings in the other suitcase of hers, "She's worried about finding a hotel to stay at till she can get a place here." Sam tells Colby.

"Well, she's in luck she has two great best friends." Colby hears that Penelope was done so he goes back to her covering her eyes as she opens the bathroom door.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you to your surprise." He walks her to the room then when he removes his hands he and Sam shout surprise. She looks at them slightly confused, "It's your room. We made sure to get a place that had three rooms so you would have one to move into." Colby explains jumping onto her bed.

"We even made sure to make it look like how you would have it for first moving in." Sam adds.

"Wait, you guys got an apartment with three rooms just for me?" She repeats.

"Of course. Where else would you live coming out here? Where's a better place than with your best friends?" Colby smiles so she attacks San and Colby with a group hug.

"You guys are the best. I love y'all." She kisses their cheeks.

The next day Penelope took a shower before getting ready to hang out with her friend, Darwin. Getting out of the shower though she realized her clothes were gone, "Really guys?" She shouts opening the door with her towel wrapped around her.

"Colby did it!" Sam lets her know from the other room.

"Asshole." She goes to her room.

"Hey, it was just initiation." Colby walks into her doorway.

"Are you going to give me back my clothes now?" She puts one hand out.

"Yeah, no. You have to find them yourself." He laughs leaving her room shutting the door behind him.

"Now I have to find a new outfit." She looks for something cute not wanting to look like a slob since she did have a crush on Darwin.

By the time she was finished putting herself together, Darwin texted saying he was on his way to pick her up.

Going to the kitchen for a drink the guys eye Penelope confused why she was dressed up. They were used to her in bigger baggy clothes. "Do you have plans?" Sam asks not remembering what she told him yesterday.

"My friend I'm hanging out with today. Remember?" She looks at him.

"Oh, right. Your model friend. He's picking you up?"

"He?" Colby sits up.

"Yes, he. And he's super nice. Nothing like Tyson." She reassured him.

"Why are you saying that if he's just a friend?" Colby gets off the couch.

"Because I know how you are with any other guy there is in my life that's not you or Sam." She gives in a look.

"She's not wrong." Sam adds.

"Oh, hush." Colby tells him, "I'm just being-,"

She cuts him off, "Being protective and worried, and so many other things." She laughs, "You just want to make sure I'm okay, safe, and treated well." She adds causing Sam to laugh. "Do me a favor and be more like Sam when it comes to this type of thing." She pats his back going back to her room to grab her back.

"Am I overreacting?" Colby looks at Sam.

"You really want to answer that?" Sam laughed as there was a knock at the door.

"Can you get that?!" Penelope shouts in her room grabbing her shoes as well.

Sam and Colby look at each other and rush fighting over who gets the door. So they open it together startling Darwin.

"She's just getting a few of her things." Sam tells him, "I'm Sam and this is Colby." He introduces them to him.

"I know a bit about you two. I'm Darwin." He introduces himself.

"How long have you known Penelope exactly?" Colby asks causing Sam to look at him.

"Like seven months, I believe." Darwin laughs thinking back.

"And you guys are friends?" Colby asks with a smile.

"Umm, I guess, yeah." Darwin says not knowing exactly because he and Penelope were very flirty at times.

"Sorry. Hopefully, Colby isn't going protective dad or older brother on you." Penelope comes rushing around the corner.

"Of course not." Colby laughs.

"Yeah, I believe that." She tells him. "Well, bye." She leaves with Darwin.

As soon as the door was closed Colby faced Sam, "I don't like him."

"Of course, you don't." Sam shakes his head, "You don't even know him."

"The way he looks at her, I just don't trust him. So you think I'm overthinking it?" Colby watches Sam go to his laptop.

"I do. I always do, Colby."

While Colby goes to his laptop as well, Penelope and Darwin head out for lunch. "So Colby is like a protective brother with you. Asked how long have I known you. Are we friends?" Darwin says as they sit in a booth.

"I'm sorry about him. He's always been like that." Penelope laughs, "It's nice but sometimes it's a bit much." She adds.

"It's nice you have someone who cares that much about you." He tells her then eyes her, "Have you guys ever been more? I'm just curious." He asks her.

She laughs a bit, "No, never. I mean unless you count us being four and three in a picture kissing. But other than that, no." She laughs more. "Not to mention, I'm not his type at all. All the girls he's ever liked are super pretty."

"You don't think you're pretty too?"

"Compared to his type and most girls, I'm nowhere near as pretty as them." She laughs.

"Why are you laughing about calling yourself ugly? You aren't ugly, Penny. You're beautiful." Darwin tells her causing her to blush.

"You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not. I'm attracted to you, Penny. You're fucking beautiful." He says making her get serious, "And the sweetest person ever."

She just looks at him not believing her ears that someone as attractive as him liked her like that. She thought his flirty playfulness was just for fun but he liked her too.

"You seriously like me like that?"

"I do. Do you like me the same way or?" He chuckles.

"No, I do. I just thought... I'm usually people's type. I've only ever had one boyfriend who was a dick." She tells him.

"Well, I'd love to the the second person to take you on a date. What do you say? Friday night?" He asks so she nods her head yes.

When Darwin drops her off the boys were staring at the door as she walks in, "Welcome home. Did you have fun, Honey?" Sam asks in a girly tone like he was her mother.

"We just went out for lunch. It was good food. He paid for me so I appreciated that. And yes, mom." She takes her shoes off.

"I'm glad to hear about that. Your father was worried about you the whole time." Sam adds in his mom's voice.

"Oh, father." Penny walks over to the couch, "There's no need to worry about me. I'm a big girl now." She smiles at Colby rolling his eyes. "Also we're going out

Friday night." She smiles.

"Like a date?" Colby asks.

"Yes, like a date, Colby. I didn't even think I was his type but I apparently am." She laughs.

"Oh, we can go shopping tomorrow to get you a whole new outfit for your date." Sam tells her happy for her.

"I'm good with what I have."

"No, I want to get an outfit for you." He reassures her.

"If he hurts you in any way... I might be bc up in jail." Colby adds watching TV.

"This is why you guys are the best." She hugs each of them before going to change to be comfortable.

#sam and colby #colby brock #sam golbach #katrina stuart #jake webber #corey scherer #elton castee #tara yummy #colby brock imagine #colby brock ff #colby brock fanfic #best friend #friends to lovers #tfil

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mystories2012 · 3 months

Text

His Smile and Andi´s win

This was for Stephan´s birthday but it ended up as Andi winning the four hill and also them getting together :) So it is a little bit older. Hope you like it☺️

The sun was shining bright through the trees. The snow made the light even brighter. But nothing was as bright as the smile on the person in front of the brunette. While the hair, which always looked like he had just fallen out of bed, fell down on his face, he watched the smaller one and couldn´t help but smile at that side. His best friend always had a bright smile when he was happy. The brunette thought for a second. Sometimes he had the feeling the smile was only for him to be seen. He shook his head. What was he thinking? His best friend always smiled brightly when he was happy. Still. Something was magical when he smiled at him. Only at him. Like in this moment when the other looked over and smiled happily at him. His eyes shone.

He just smiled back when somebody said: „Andreas would you like to give an Interview for today's competition? “. A woman wearing a jacket looked at him and waved him over. When he got closer, he saw that she worked for the ZDF. „Of course, “, he answered and gave her a little smile and a nodded. She smiled back and the cameraman said: „We are life in 3,2,1 and go “. She looked into the camera: „Welcome Winter fans. We are in Innsbruck in Austria at the Ski jumping hill where the 3rd station of the Fourhillstournament took place. For our Interview, we are visited by nobody else than the leader of the field and winner of today's competition Andreas Wellinger from Germany. Andreas how do you feel being the leader in the field at the moment? “. He thought for a second and said with a smile: „I am feeling good. Everything feels very light at the moment for me, so that is something I am really looking into “. She nodded and asked: „The jumps today looked very impressive. How did it feel to jump this far? “. „They felt awesome. I do have to work on my landing again a little. It felt like the same problem I had in Garmisch in the Quali, so this is something I have to work on but know I can manage “. „How is this atmosphere other than in Oberstdorf and Garmisch? Do you get what is happening around you when you jump? “. „The atmosphere is brilliant. A few more Austrian flags than German ones but that's totally fine. When I jump, I don't really concentrate on the fans, because I concentrate on jumping well but when you sit there it is amazing how loud they are. Something I am really happy about “. „One last question. Do you feel any pressure because Ryoyo Kobayashi is so close to you? “. He again thought of a good answer and said: „Not really. I don't put myself under pressure. I want to jump well that's all. You don't do that if you are under pressure “. „Thank you for your time, Andreas. And congratulations on your win today “. „Thank you “.

He walked away to the car. When he arrived, he was welcomed by his best friend. „Hey, Andi how did the interview go? “. „Hey Stephan. It was great. Just a few questions about today and my leadership at the moment “. He smiled and Stephan smiled back. They hopped in the car and talked a little bit about the jumps today. They had to drive a longer road because a tree fell on the road and was taken care of. So instead of 30 minutes, they drove 1 hour. Stephan and he sat in the back. He talked about something he liked and started to realize, that Stephan started to yawn and get tired. He always got when they sat in the car. „You can sleep if you like I don't mind. It was a long day and I can tell you the story another time “. „Nono it´s fine. I am fine. Tell me the story. I want to hear it “. He gave him a smile and yawned again. „If you say so. But I won't repeat it. So, you better listen “. He started talking again. A few moments later Stephan's eyes were closed and his head laid against his shoulder. Andi smiled and put an arm around his best friend. Half an hour later they finally arrived at the hotel. Just as Stephan had known this he woke up from his little nap. „Are we here? “He asked sleepily. A big yawn crossed his soft face. Andi just nodded and got out of the car. Stephan following. They went inside after getting their stuff and went to their shared room. Andi just flopped down on his bed. Not caring to put out his stuff. Stephan was the same. Since they had a queen-sized bed, he fell down next to him. To Andi's surprise, his best friend snuggled into him and a few seconds later he could hear a steady breath. A stray of hair fell down onto Stephans's forehead. Andi couldn't resist brushing it away. His hands were shaking. Stephan didn´t wake up. Andi smiled again and put his arm around the waist of his best friend. Andi put the covers over them. He positioned himself right before he started to fall asleep.

When he woke up the next day, his face was warm from the sun shining in. He smiled for a second. He just wanted to give Stephan a good morning hug but he didn’t find anything. Or anyone. His eyes shot open. He looked dazzled to his right side. The bed was empty. For a second, he thought it was a dream. His looked around the room but it was empty. For a moment he was disappointed. Or did he really dream it? He wasn’t quite sure anymore. Just when he wanted to yawn a face showed up in front of his. Dazzled he looked into deep teddy bear brown eyes. The person in the front smiled bright. This smile he could recognize anywhere. It belonged to nobody other then Stephan Leyhe. His roommate and best friend stood smiling in front of him. His face inches away from Andys. Their nose nearly touched. Stephan still smiling said: “Good morning. Are you searching for something or should I say someone”. Andi needed to gulp and he couldn’t look away from Stephans beautiful eyes. Where there always this brown with that little brilliant spark? His eyes went down to Stephans lips. The pinkish lips looked so soft and he wondered how they would taste. Just when he wanted to look up, something he never thought would happen happened. Stephan leaned in and kissed Andi on the lips. Andi shocked looked with big blue eyes at his best friend. Before he could do anything, it was over and Stephan pulled away with a smile and said: “Get up. We need to be ready for training in 15 minutes”. When he left for the bathroom, he winked at Andi. The brunette just sat there staring after him. His brain not functioning or getting any air. Dazzled he got up and went into the bathroom after Stephan. When they where finish somebody knocked on the door. Stephan opened and a tall man stood Infront of them. “Are you guys ready we are waiting”. “Sorry Karl we are coming in a few seconds. Just getting our stuff”. Karl nodded at Stephan and walked away. When his best friend walked past him with his stuff he smiled. He got closer and gave him kiss on the cheek. Then he was gone. Andreas was too stunned to speak or to react. Dazzled again he went after him and together they went down to the rest of the Team.

A few hours later he was tired and just wanted to sleep. It was very hard to always give it all. And today in training the other competitors like Stefan Kraft, Anzé Lanizek and Lovro Kos got more good jumps done than he did. And not to forget Ryoyo Kobayashi. He was just 2 points behind him. He did some impressive jumps today. Andis where good but not good enough to win. His thoughts started to race again.

What if it didn’t work?

What if he couldn’t do it?

What if everybody started to hate him?

What if Stephan started to hate him too?

What did the kiss mean to him?

Does he really like him?

Questions over questions started to spread in his head. It began to hurt and he hold on to his aching pain. He didn’t even realize that somebody spoke to him. His thought wouldn’t let him hear anything besides the voices in his head. Screaming at him. He had closed his eyes so the pain wasn’t as bad. Just when he thought he had lost, somebody touched him light on the arm. Andi looked up and opened his eyes to see Stephan sitting next to him. His worried look said it all. Stephan moved his lips and first the brunette couldn’t here him but the longer he looked the more he got and finally he heard his friend say: “Andi are you okay?”. Andi just shook his head and started to close his eyes again. He could feel the brown eyes on him. “Is it your head?”. He nodded and his best friend said: “You know I know you so please tell me what is bothering you. I am worried about you right know”. Andi didn’t look at him when he said: “I… I just don’t know what to do”. Stephan looked confused at him and asked: “What do you mean? Was it the kiss or…”. “No, it wasn’t. It was the training today. Everybody was so much better than me. What if I fail. What if everybody started to hates me because of my failure? What if you started to hate me too after that”. Stephan was to stunned to speak. He needed to process all that. He blinked a few times and said with a snappish voice: “What are you talking about?”. His voice got softer as he continued: “Andi who cares if they were better than you in training? The important thing is you showing them what you have on the hill. Nothing else matters and the others would never hate you. Nobody could. You’re to kind, too popular and too lovable to be hated. And definitely to good looking”. Stephan looked at him with dead eyes and Andi sighed. He looked down for a few seconds before he said: “What if it doesn’t work out?”. Stephan looked at him and said smiling: “What if it does?”. Andi put his head against his best friend’s shoulder. The other man gave him a little kiss on the head and said: “Lets go to bed. You have an important day in front of you”. A few minutes later they laid snuggled up under the covers next to each other and started to get sleepy before you could hear a steady noise

The next day they started the day early because of training. Andi still just couldn’t get a hang on that hill. Why was that. He couldn’t figure it out and it made him angry. While the others still jumped, he walked to the containers and sat down inside. He put his helm next to him and put his face into his hands. He wanted to cry but nothing came out. Out of nowhere the door opened and nobody than Stephan Leyhe walked in. “Here you are. I looked everywhere for you”. “Sorry. I just needed to get my head straight”. Stephan looked sadly at him and sat down on the left side. “Your thoughts again?”. “Yes. They just wont leave me alone”. “I know. I am worried about you Andi”. Not only Stephans mimic said it but also his eyes. They weren’t sparkling. He looked at him and said with a little smile: “I try to keep them down. I promise”. Stephan just nodded and leaned against him.

A few hours later the competition started. Because of the cancelling of the qualification yesterday they weren’t any battles. So, Andi would start at the second place. After a while Kraft who was number one, Kobayashi third place and himself where the only one left. Kobayashi stood up and Andi followed. A few minutes later he himself sat in the hill and started to make his first jump. When he jumped, he noticed the feeling of failure coming back up. Before he could think anymore, he landed already. He smiled at the camera because in his opinion the jump wasn’t so bad. When he looked on the screen, he saw he flew 138,5 meters and was first. He smiled even brighter. As he walked out, he put on his shoes, checked the monitor again and saw that Kobayashi only was on the 4. Place after the first. After he checked if everything was fine, he went up again for the second jump. There he sat down in a chair in one of the corners. After a while he could feel two eyes on him. He didn’t turn around but he recognized them as Stephan´s. His best friend didn’t jump that long. He landed at 128 meters and was on place 20. One after another left the room. He gave his teammates a fist when they left. Half an hour later he was the only person left. Not even the camera man was there anymore. It was completely quiet. His thought ´s started racing again. The third time in two days. What was if he would fail? Kobayashi jumped impressively 143,5 meters. He needed to at least jump to 145,5 meters. This was near Hill record. What could he do? Suddenly he could his name being said from behind. He spun around to find his best friend standing in the door. “Stephan what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with the others down at the hill?”. “Yeah, but I could convince the security I forgot something. I just figured you could need some company”. They looked each other in the eye for a second until Andi brock it and pointed at an empty chair next to him. They only had a few minutes because Andi needed to get to the hill. They sat there in silence until somebody came in and said: “It’s your turn”. Andi nodded and got up. Before he went out, he and Stephan looked at each other. Instantly he got lost in the brown eyes. He nearly overheard his friend. “You know I wouldn’t hate you if you would lose today or any day. I could never hate you Andi. Never. I just can´t”. Andi didn’t know what to say and the next three words made his brain stopped working for a second. “I love you Andi”. His heart started to beat really fast. But he just leaned in and kissed Stephan. He could tell that his friend wasn’t prepared for that because he needed a second to kiss back. The kiss had everything. Trust, love and everything that he had in his mind these last days. He let it all out in this kiss. When they departed Andi realised this was the first real one. The other two he hadn’t kissed back. They both had their eyes closed but when they opened them, their faces were still only a few inches away. Forehead against forehead. They looked at each other with so much love it took both their breathes. But they needed to lose contact for now, because Andi needed to get out. Before he went, he gave Stephan another kiss on the lips and said softly: “I love you too”. Stephan smiled and when Andi was gone, he said with the same smile, that was only for his friend: “You will rock this. This is one of your strengths. You are the biggest fighter I know. If somebody can win this it’s you”.

And while he ran down the stairs to catch up with the other and to support his friend, Andi watched as Stefan Kraft jumped down the hill. He didn’t know how far but he saw from the flag that had been a good one. The guy next to him gave him the signal to sit down on the wood pole. He started to breathe faster. His head spinning again but suddenly he heard Stephans voice: “What if it works out”. His smile followed the voice. He closed the eyes for a seconds before opening them. New energy went through his body. Just when Horngacher gave him the signal to start he started to breathe normally again. He gave it a push and started to race down the hill. Then he pushed one more time and started to fly. He instantly felt the lightness of the last jumps he did in Oberstdorf and Garmisch. Then he landed. He didn’t know where but he heard the Fans. So was it a good one. His teammates waiting. First, he hugged Raimund, then Karl, Pius and then Stephan. He looked very proud and something mysterious laid in his eyes. He saw his jump on the screen. He landed exactly at 145,5 meters but because Kobayashi had a few meters ahead it could be his win. The blue bar came up. It was quit in an instant. Everybody hold in their breathes. The bar went up and stopped… At +0,1. Andi had actually won on 0,1 points. He was so in shock he couldn’t believe it. Stephan was the first to jump at him. He catches him and flew him in a circle before hugging the rest of the team. And the fans? They never applauded so loud in their entire life. A lot of jumpers came and congratulate Andi. Still in shock he attended the Ceremony that gifted him the golden eagle. He put it high in the sky. Let out a very loud roar and then started to get emotional. He needed to cry. How long did he, no them waited for this. Twenty-two years after Sven Hannawald they won the eagle again. After everything he went through the last years. The Cruciate ligament rupture in his leg in 2019 where he needed a year to come back. Then the bad jumps, when he was in shape for the Olympics in 2022 and couldn’t go because he got covid. Then finally the first podium in Lake Placid in 2023 after that everything went the right way. And now his dream came true that Stephan and him would be together. And of course, the golden eagle he just won. He smiled bright while he cried and after the ceremony yelled one more time while pictures where taken. The evening on the day of his win, he and Stephan snuggled up under the blanket and after they said goodnight they went to instant sleep. No party had been down. And that was something he had wished because he just wanted an evening with his best friend and a cozy and warm blanket.

#lellinger #ski jumping #stephan leyhe #andreas wellinger #i love them so much #they are the cutest #lellinger fanfiction #andi wellinger #i just need that today #Their are in love I am sure about that

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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 1 year

Text

love means nothing | chapter 02

leon goretzka x original female character [+18]

synopsis: 10 years ago, after winning wimbledon at the age of 18, olivia araujo was tennis's biggest rising star. she had a cosmopolitan social life, a handsome boyfriend and all the time in the world. now she was pushing 30, single, lonely and after several complicated injuries she could feel her career coming to an end. warnings: sports-typical violence; mentions of depression; angst; timeline of events are not based on real life; minors dni.

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Chapter 02 | Closer

“And when I see you then I know it will be next to me

And when I need you I know you will be there with me

I'll never leave you”

April, 2013, Stuttgart

It was my first time in Germany and I was playing Maria Sharapova in the Stuttgart Open Final. I was still practically a rookie at the time, having debuted at pro tennis only a year prior. At the time I already had a couple masters titles and the press was paying close attention to me. Young, rich, pretty and full of potential. I had a good sense of style and I inherited my parents' fame and connections. An ‘it-girl’, that was the term they were using. To make things more interesting for the tabloids, I would get a new boyfriend every few months. The guy at the time was Leon Goretzka, a football player, 18 years old just like me. He was playing for Schalke 04, 400 km away from Stuttgart, and we would meet in person for the first time after the tournament.

Up until then our flirting was online. We met through social media and hit it off immediately. Leon was a charming prince and it was so nice talking to someone who was going through the same things as I was.

leon:

no way you’re playing sharapova :o think you can win??

liv:

i know right!! so cool

why don’t you watch the match and find out ;)

Getting to play with the grown ups for the first time. The pressure to be perfect. The press constantly telling the world you’re the next big thing, when you know for a fact they’re just waiting for you to stumble so they can tear you down. He just got it, he understood me when not a lot of people seemed genuinely interested in trying to.

“Feeling confident?” My dad asked before the match.

“As always.” I answered with a smile.

“That’s my girl!”

An hour and a half later I was lifting another trophy. I walked off the court, sweat pouring down my face and my heart racing. Maria had given me a run for my money, but I had managed to pull off a win in the end.

As I made my way back to the locker room, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. The pressure to perform had been intense, and I knew that one misstep could have cost me the match. But I kept my cool, stayed focused, and ultimately came out on top.

I smiled to myself, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. I knew that there would be more challenges and more pressure to come, but for now, I was content to bask in the glow of another victory

After the tournament, I had a few days to spare before my next match, so I rented a Lamborghini and took a road trip to Gelsenkirchen to meet Leon. I was starting to get a taste of being an adult, with my parents allowing me to do whatever I wanted, as long as I showed up to practice on time, kept myself fit and won titles. Everything else was up to me. I packed my bags and set out on the Autobahn. The scenery was breathtaking as I drove through the German countryside, passing fields of bright yellow rapeseed flowers and quaint villages with traditional half-timbered houses. As I approached Gelsenkirchen, I could feel my excitement building. My first stop was the Veltins-Arena, home of the Schalke 04 football club. The stadium was stunning, massive and so much different from a tennis stadium. They were playing against Eintracht Frankfurt that night and Leon was in the starting 11.

“You’re beautiful.” Leon said to me after the match, we were both in my car driving to the hotel I was staying at. “So much more beautiful in person.” At the hotel room we ordered food and ate in bed.

“Congratulations on your win! That was amazing, I actually got to watch with my parents. We were all cheering for you.” Leon looked at me with bright eyes, almost like a fan.

“Well, congrats on your win, too! The game was so cool, I don’t even know a lot about football, but it was super fun.”

“Ah, but I didn’t get a trophy. You actually won a tournament!”

There was so much to talk and so much to do, we didn’t have enough time. So it didn’t take long for our clothes to decorate the bedroom floor. We were both exhausted from work, but that wasn’t an issue that night.

“You feel so good, here, let me take care of you.” Leon was inside of me, we were on the floor on our second round. Our bodies sticky with sweat and spit, our moans filling the bedroom; I was in a trance. He smelled amazing, he tasted amazing. Every cell of my body was begging for him. He had his hand on my clit while he was fucking me. “Cum on me, let me feel it.” He was behind me, pulling my hair. I could only answer him with a nod, my mouth open, my eyes closed.

Sex had never felt like that before. We came at the same time and I thought it meant that it was love. Our meeting was restricted to the hotel, in the morning we had breakfast in bed. It was raining and when we fucked again I considered just staying there forever. But I had to go back home soon, to the Portugal Open.

“I just want to stay like this.” I was laying in bed and he was on top of me, inside of me, kissing my face. “Forever.”

“I’m sorry, Liv, I don’t think I can last forever.” He said giggling.

“We’re gonna be fine, right? We can handle this.” We were outside my car, saying our goodbyes. I would drive to the airport and meet my father there. I was so nervous, it felt like insanity to turn this into a full relationship, but it also felt like insanity to walk away.

“Yes, we can do this.” He cupped my face in between his big hands. “I’m not giving up on us.” Before boarding the airplane I got a text.

leon:

missing you already

June, 2013, Nuremberg

Leon and I were inseparable then. Life was good, we were always in touch through text messages, phone and video calls. We talked about everything. When the WTA calendar gave me a chance to go back to Germany we decided to make our relationship official to our families and introduce them.

The Nuremberg tournament was on clay. After my first match, staring at my dirty sneakers and completely destroyed socks, I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. I looked up at my parents in the stands and watched Leon clapping, celebrating my victory sitting right next to my 11 years old sister. By their side, there were a couple of unfamiliar faces – Leon’s parents.

The match was intense, with my opponent and I trading points back and forth, but I was overly confident that day and intended on showing off. In the end, I managed to come out on top once again, winning the match in straight sets.

As I walked off the court, I could feel the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Later, after showering, we met at the lobby, on our way to a restaurant. We were all having lunch together.

"Congratulations on the win," Leon said, giving me a quick hug.

"Thank you, baby." I replied, smiling. His parents smiled warmly at me, congratulating me while Leon introduced us. At the restaurant, which I couldn't pronounce the name of, we sat at a large table by the window looking out at Nuremberg's busy streets.

“What a lovely city, I always wanted to know more about Germany!” Mom had a smile from ear to ear. I think she was prouder from me landing an athlete boyfriend than from me winning my match.

He wasn’t the first boy I introduced to my family, but that time it felt different. Like we could actually make it, against all odds. I was in love like never before. The sort of blinding, deafening young love that I would never experience again. My mother was excited, he was all she ever dreamed for me. My father, on the other hand, looked at me as if knew. Being a teenager, I was offended by his behavior. How dare he. Looking at me as if my long distance-also athlete boyfriend and I are not gonna make it past a year. How dare him act like he knows around this time next year I’ll be introducing him to a new boyfriend.

“And this is my best friend Sofie.” My little sister was showing Leon some pictures on her phone. Chiara loved him immediately and he was the sweetest with her. By the end of the dinner they had private jokes and she was determined to learn german. His parents seemed genuinely interested in me and I was picturing us spending Christmas together.

Our relationship continued like that, only meeting in person a couple days at a time, searching for privacy and creating our love dens in luxury hotel rooms. Still managed to pose for the Bild front page a couple times, despite our best efforts. We were walking out of his apartment once, holding hands.

“I’m so lucky.” Leon kissed me. “I don't want to let you go.” I kissed him back.

“I’m going down the street to get us some coffee, you weirdo.” I giggled, but Leon continued with a serious face.

“Just kiss me, silly.”

For the following months, pictures of me and pages of newspapers reporting my victories would decorate Leon’s bedroom.

“Honey, don’t cry. Baby, come here.” We were saying goodbye once again, that time we only managed to spend a few hours together. I couldn’t hold back my tears. I was leaving a part of me with him every single time.

“I think I love you.” I whispered through my tears. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to let me love you too.”

June, 2013, London

While practicing for Wimbledon that year, dad and I had a big fight. I don’t remember how it started. I was texting Leon during a break, I remember worrying about him, his health, his games, and then my dad was all over my face screaming at me. “I would never accuse you of having common sense, Olivia.” My father yelled. “Where do you think he is right now? Do you think he's alone, waiting for you to find time in your schedule? This is ridiculous, just get back to training.”

When I lifted the trophy for my first Grand Slam win, that’s what I was thinking about.

September, 2013, Beijing

The distance was particularly hard on me. I missed Leon terribly and it was hard for me to focus on my matches when I was constantly thinking about him. I had to keep my priorities straight and my career came first. We tried to make it work, but besides our best efforts the distance continued to take its toll. There were times when we would argue over small things and times when we would go days without talking. It just wasn’t worth it. I couldn’t find a way to be happy being away from him.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” My voice was barely audible, I had already been crying for hours before calling him.

"This is it? You’re just giving up on us?” He yelled over the phone. I had nightmares for years about making Leon cry. I never forgave myself for that.

“That’s enough, Olivia.” My father said. I couldn’t sleep or eat properly for days after the breakup. The realization that I would never get to have a normal relationship was affecting more than anything else. If things didn’t work out with who I thought was my soulmate, who never hurted me, who I loved so much; then it wouldn’t work with anybody ever. I would die alone. “He’s just a boy, you’ll get over it.”

There was nothing else for me to do except going back to court. I deleted our pictures and texts, threw away his gifts and anything that reminded me of him. I dated a few times after that, but it was never the same. I understood what I had to do to keep myself relevant and competitive. That’s all that mattered. I learned to keep a distance, to build walls and keep myself safe.

#love means nothing #leon goretzka #football fanfic #tennis fanfic #oc fanfiction

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

Windows Down, Music Up

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3730

Warnings: !FATWS Spoilers!, Cursing, Lotsa Fluff, Slight Angst, Talk of PTSD/Flashbacks, No Seatbelts at One Point (WEAR SEATBELTS!)

A/N: The Part I didn’t know I needed. I started writing and this is where it got me. I needed these soft moments after the intensity of the last few parts. I know I said there’d only be one part left, but…I didn’t know this Part would be so long. So three parts for episode 5 it is!

I hope you enjoy this! I know it’s not really a part of the show, but I love the idea and I think both Bucky and the Reader needed it. Plus the show has a lot of leeway this episode because time passes but they kinda skip over traveling and stuff, so I thought I’d give you a glimpse of what it looks like in mine!

Not beta’d, as per usual! All mistakes are mine and please excuse them! Be kind to yourselves and others! Enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

******************

“So what’s next?” You questioned, your feet hooked onto the bar below the bar you were sitting on so you didn’t fall. Not that you could - Bucky was right next to you, his hand flying to your thigh every time you shifted even a little bit to keep you steady. “Walker’s been arrested, we have the shield, Karli’s in the wind…where does that leave us? Do we have any leads on Karli right now?”

“The GRC is conducting raids to try and find Karli, but so far they’ve only found her followers. They’ve searched this camp, and just like the last camp, nothing. She’s gone. And we’ll never find her.”

You huffed at Sam’s words, rubbing your temples as you grumble, “way to look on the bright side.”

“What bright side? There’s not one here, cher. Not this time.”

“Hey.” Bucky snapped. “Back off, Sam.”

You grabbed his forearm and squeezed reassuringly. “Hey! You got your, uh, you got your sleeve back!” You turned at the familiar voice that caused Bucky to scoff lightly and shake his head.

“Torres!”

The kid smiled at you, waving as Bucky pushed off the bars, helping you down (he’d been refusing to let you do anything on your own since you woke up) and started walking towards the door. “Hi, Y/N. It’s been a while.”

“Are you off to take care of Zemo?” Sam questioned, making Bucky look over his shoulder at the three of you. The former assassin raised an eyebrow at you. You nodded, and he turned around to leave.

“Alright! Good to know you survived!”

You snickered a bit at the kid. “It’s good to see you.”

Torres turned back to you and grinned. “You too. I really am glad you survived.”

“I know you are, kid.”

Sam looked at you questioningly. “Are you gonna go with him?” You pursed your lips, chewing your cheek, and nodded. “Alright. C’mere.”

You frowned as he lifted his arms, but walked into them anyways. “What’re we doing right now? This isn’t goodbye. We’ve still gotta find Karli.”

“For now.” He responded, setting his chin on your head, careful of your shoulder. “But we don’t have any leads and I’m sure we’ve been benched. So, until we do and we meet again, stay safe. And take care of yourself. And for the love of God, please have that conversation with cyborg, now.”

A small puff of laughter came from you and you nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you later then, Sammy.”

He pressed a kiss to your head, before letting you go. “Later, cher.”

“Bye, Y/N!”

You smiled, waving to Torres. “Bye, kid. Keep out of trouble.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you walked out the door Bucky disappeared through earlier, turning down the hall to exit the building.

When you got outside, you found Bucky leaning against a wall, narrowed eyes watching the police as they finished the raid. “Do you agree with it?”

“What?”

“These people getting arrested.”

You shrugged, shoving your hands in your pockets. “They harbored a criminal.”

He looked at you with a frown, eyebrows knit together and forehead creased. “We harbored a criminal. We broke him out.”

“Technically he broke himself out.” Your joke fell flat, Bucky’s head dropping. “Buck…” You sighed, eyes following a lady as she was shoved into the back of a car. “No. I don’t. I think these people have been through enough.”

“But?” His eyes grew sad as you met his gaze again, making you smile softly at him.

“But we can’t do anything about it right now. So we need to focus on doing what we can and finding Zemo.”

He nodded, reaching for your hand as he straightened and started walking off. You grabbed his fingers, jogging slightly to fall into sync with his strides. He seemed to notice and slowed down slightly. “We already know where he is, though. Don’t we?”

You hummed, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Where else would he be?”

“Anywhere.”

You shook your head. “No. He’s there. Question is…how are you going to take care of him?”

“Sam thinks I’m gonna kill him.”

His blunt statement made you raise an eyebrow. “Are you?”

Licking his lips, he looked down at you, eyes set with certainty. “No.”

Your lips pulled up at his answer, leaning closer into him, shoulders brushing. “Good. Not that I’m an advocate for never killing people ever…it’s just,” you chewed on your cheek, thinking about the previous day’s events. “Revenge and justice are two different things.”

“Yeah.” He agreed softly. “We kinda witnessed that.”

“Yeah…we did.”

He let go of your hand to wrap an arm around your shoulders, tenderly avoiding your wrapped wound. “Good thing I contacted Ayo while you were sleeping then, huh?”

“You did?” You looked up at him with a smile as he nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah. And…I’ve been thinking a lot. Since our conversation about Wakanda and Zemo and Sam. You were right.”

A smirk graced your lips, an eyebrow quirking in amusement. “Pardon me? I don’t think I heard you correctly. What was that?”

He rolled his eyes, reaching over with his free hand to shove your head lightly, making you laugh. “You are such a punk sometimes. I’m serious though, doll. I-I’ve been…I dunno…I haven’t been thinking straight. The whole thing with Zemo was wrong and-and Sam didn’t deserve what I was blaming him for.”

You froze in your steps, tugging him to a stop as well, staring at him thoughtfully. Just since that phone call a couple weeks ago he’d grown so much. You could barely believe what he was saying - that he was finally saying it. He was a stubborn ass sometimes, so to hear him say that? It just stunned you. You knew he was a good person, but this…you felt yourself falling more, which you thought was impossible.

“Doll? Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

Your arms raised around his neck, tugging him down into a hug, your lips pressing to his cheek. “I’m just proud of you.” You murmured softly, kissing his temple. He ducked his head, leaning against your shoulder, arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You held him like for another minute or two, before kissing his temple again. “We should get going. Gotta get to Sokovia before the Dora do.”

He hummed in agreement, pulling you tighter against him and squeezing you slightly, before letting go. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“Question.” You said once you two started walking again.

“Possible answer.” He replied, making you elbow him as he chuckled.

“How’re we gonna get to Sokovia?”

He blinked, tilting his head. “Uh…plane? Unless you wanna have a road trip. The plane would only take a couple hours at most and a car, well…I could have us there in under a day with some broken traffic laws.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “Know what? I could go for a road trip right now.”

“Yeah?” He grinned at you.

“Yeah. And yes, you can drive. Just don’t get us in the middle of a high speed chase.”

He winked, kissing your head. “No promises.”

**********************

Bucky was actually a very good road trip partner. He made sure you had plenty of your snacks and let you control the music, turning up the volume for your favorite songs, shouting the lyrics to the heavens as you danced in your seat, the windows rolled down, wind ripping through the car, ruffling both of your clothes and hair.

You grinned over at Bucky, bobbing your head to the beat as he stared back at you, his eyes soft and sparkling. “Watch the road, dork!” He chuckled as you shoved his face.

“I’d much rather watch you.”

You felt yourself heat up despite the cool breeze moving through the car. “Have you ever stuck your head out the sunroof?” You suddenly asked him.

He gave you a weird look. “What?” Feeling a bit mischievous, you smirked and unbuckled. “Woah, woah! What are you doing?! But your seatbelt back on!”

“Oh calm down!” You stood on the seat after opening the sunroof, the top half of your body outside the car. He laughed as you whooped and hollered.

“Alright, alright. Sit back down, doll.” He tugged you back in, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

You smiled, putting your seatbelt back on and plopping your feet on the dash. “Like what?”

He turned to look at you, his teeth pulling his bottom lip between them contemplating. “Carefree. Relaxed, even.”

You shrugged, leaning back in your seat. “I don’t get to do it often. But it’s so hard to care right now.” You gestured out to the gorgeous landscape you were moving through, the sunsetting on the horizon. “The wind, the music, the open road. Nothing feels more like freedom.”

“Yeah…yeah. I guess. I’ve never really…been on a road trip. Unless you count going across Germany in that little blue car-”

“Ha! That was not a road trip! That was Steve being a reckless dumbass driver for a few hours.”

He laughed. You’d heard him laugh before, but this was different. Something about the freedom you were talking about made it different. It was nice. And you’d do anything to hear it more often.

“I’ll take you on a real road trip once this is done.” You vowed. “We’ll hit all the states. Even go through Canada to get to Alaska. Nothing but us in a car for weeks. Wherever we wanna go.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

You winked. “You do that.”

Conversation died after that, the only sounds being you and your music with the occasional chuckle from Bucky at your over dramatic dancing. You made a few stops at gas stations, getting food and drinks, before you felt yourself start winding down as the stars came out, winking down at you. You didn’t even realize you drifted off until the car jostled, waking you up.

“Sorry, sleepyhead.” Bucky apologized. “There was a deer. Maybe if you put your seatbelt on you would’ve stayed asleep.”

You rolled your eyes, rubbing at them and blinking. It was still dark out, no hint of the sun peeking out yet. “They’re uncomfortable.” You grumbled, shifting and wincing at your leg which was still asleep. “What time is it?”

“Almost two.” Bucky answered. “Are you okay? Is your shoulder hurting?”

“No. My leg’s just asleep so it feels weird and it’s aching. You want me to drive so you can sleep?”

“Nah, it’s fine. We’ll be there in a few hours. I’ve got it.”

You hummed, sitting up and digging through your bag for some food. “Hungry?”

“Uh…I’ll just take a bag of pretzels.” Nodding, you grabbed one of the bags and handed it to him. It was quiet, the radio now turned low on some jazzy station you were sure Bucky turned it to once you fell asleep. “I’ve been thinking-”

“Hope you didn’t hurt yourself.” He shot you a bemused look, making you giggle. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

“I’ve been thinking of that fight. With Walker.”

You tensed, clearing your throat as you munch on your snack. “Oh?”

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, you saw him lick his lips, setting the bag down on the middle console, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “When you were fighting him…why-why’d you hesitate?”

“What do you mean?”

He glanced over at you quickly, forehead creased. “You had the shield. You were holding your own. I’m sure Steve taught you some stuff…but then…” He trailed off, seemingly trying to find words. “It was like that first fight. On the semi trucks. You hesitated. Got distracted. Why?”

You shrugged, turning back to your food nonchalantly. “I guess I just had a lot on my mind. That’s all.”

“I know you better than that, doll. Please don’t lie to me.” Turning to the window, you just noticed that yours wasn’t down anymore. You look over to his side to see his was only a little cracked open. “I didn’t want you to wake up so I rolled them up. Answer the question.”

Letting out a sigh, you shrugged again. “I’ve been having…flashbacks.”

“Flashbacks?”

You nodded, sipping on your water bottle. “Yeah. Kinda like PTSD, but it’s not. Not really. They’re never traumatic or anything.”

You could see the gears in his head turning, his jaw clenching. “What are they about then?”

“Steve.”

The tension in his shoulders slipped, his head ducking while still keeping his eyes on the road. “Oh…why…why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want anyone to worry about me with all the other problems we’re having-”

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped up from where they fell at his sharp tone, his gaze meeting yours. “Don’t ever think that. Ever. You’re not a fucking burden, Y/N. You’re important to me. I-” He cut himself off, shaking his head and looking back out the front. “Does Sam know at least?”

You pursed your lips. “I-I told Sharon?”

He groaned, head falling back against the seat. “Sweetheart…”

“They’re just memories. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is if it’s affecting you on the field. And if it’s gonna get you or someone else hurt-”

Crossing your arms, you shifted in your seat, feeling the ache in your legs from sleeping in that position too long. “What? You don’t trust me now?”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying!”

“What’re you saying, Buck? You can’t have me watching your back because my mind’s messed up right now?” The car came to a halt and you sat up, looking around worriedly to see if any cars were coming. “James, we’re in the middle of the street-”

“Look at me.” You turned to him, only to look away at the intensity of his eyes. “Doll. Look at me.” He repeated tenderly, grabbing your chin between his fingers, making you face him. “I trust you.” His tone was nothing but genuine, and you’d never seen him look so sincere. “With my life, I trust you. But if your head isn’t in it? It’s okay, you just need to tell someone. When did you start trusting me?”

“At the airport in Germany.” You answered quietly.

He tilted his head. You kinda missed his long hair - the way it used to get in his eyes and you’d have to brush it behind his ear. “Even though I could still get triggered?”

“Well, yeah. But that’s different! You wouldn’t have been in your right…mind if you were…triggered…”

He raised an eyebrow as you frowned. “Trusting you and trusting your mental state are two different things. I’d know. Sometimes our brain’s do stupid things and we can’t stop it. But we can get help.”

You sighed, hanging your head. “Okay. Alright. I got it. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just…tell me about it.”

You nodded, before looking at the road. “Okay, okay. But can you drive? We’re still in the middle of the road.”

He chuckled and nodded, starting up the car again. After a moment, he glanced at you. “So?”

Another sigh left your lips, before you told him. You told him what’s triggered you so far and what the memories were about. How it feels when you slip. “It’s like, I remember something and my mind latches onto it and won’t let me out until I relive it again.” He just nodded, never interrupting as you explained what was going on.

It felt good to finally get it off your chest. And it felt good knowing he wasn’t freaking out and pulling you from the mission like you thought he’d do. It was something you hadn’t done in a long time. The last person who sat down and listened to your problems was Steve and the fact that you felt comfortable enough around Bucky to pour out your soul made you realize that Steve was gone. But Bucky was here. And maybe it was time to let go.

Bucky looked over to you when you stopped talking abruptly, cocking his head to the side. “Sweetheart? You alright?”

You lunged forwards, hugging his shoulders, burying your face in his neck. Fortunately for you, he had great reflexes, or else you’d probably be wrapped around a tree. You couldn’t care about the what ifs though. Sniffing, you closed your eyes, a couple tears leaking down your cheeks and landing on the skin connecting his shoulder to his neck.

“Thank you.”

It was so soft and muffled by his shirt, you weren’t sure if he heard it. But then he set his cheek on your head, his hand coming up to run through your hair like you did to him when he needed comfort. “C’mere, cuddle bug.” He cradled your head, shifting you easily so you could lay down comfortably, your legs curled in your seat, your head in his lap, taking extra care that your shoulder wasn’t agitated. “Try to get more sleep, doll. We’ll be there soon.”

You nodded, sleep taking over you once more with Bucky’s fingers in your hair, soft jazz still floating through the air along with the slight whistle of the wind from the crack in his window.

****************

You leaned against the hood of the car, crossing your arms, watching Bucky pull on a shirt. You had stopped at a rest stop to clean up and change, just a few more miles until you got to the memorial.

“Ayo’s there already.” Bucky spoke, shrugging on his jacket. You pushed off the hood of the car to pull him closer by the sides of his jacket, your fingers moving to button it. “I just…I want a couple minutes alone with him.”

You nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

“You trust me right?”

“More than anything.” You confirmed, looking up at him, smoothing his jacket down with your hands.

He nodded, leaning forwards to kiss your forehead. “I just - I just need you to know…I’m not gonna kill him.”

You nodded back, smiling softly at him. “I know.”

“Okay…let’s get going then. Get this over with.”

It didn’t take you long to reach the memorial, only a few more minutes down the main street and then going off down a side road.

Just as Bucky said, the Dora Milaje were already there, waiting for the two of you to show up. Bucky and Ayo had a conversation in Xhosa - which you were really regretting not learning anything more than “hi”, “please”, “thank you”, and “where’s the bathroom?” - before he turned to you.

“Stay with them. Just...I just need a couple minutes.” You nodded, eyes flickering down to the gun he pulled out from his coat pocket. He hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze back to him. “Trust me.”

“Sometimes our brains do stupid things.”

He shook his head, kissing your forehead. “Not this time. ‘Cause I have help.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded. He gave you a reassuring smile, before stepping away, out of the trees to face Zemo. You couldn’t hear what was being said, but you had to admit that when Bucky lifted the gun, your heart skipped a beat. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He promised.

The quiet click of the gun seemed to echo, a pressure lifting off your chest as the bullets spilled from Bucky’s hand, clattering against the ground.

You figured that was the signal, considering Ayo led her badass women out to grab Zemo right after the bullets hit the ground, so you followed them out. You stopped next to Bucky, his hand slipping out of his pocket to wrap around your shoulders, tugging you to his side, your arms wrapping around his waist.

“I was listening to your heartbeat. You get nervous for a second, doll?”

You hummed in response to his question in your ear. “I trust you…but that doesn’t mean you don’t raise my anxiety levels.”

He snickered, kissing your temple, before straightening to listen to what Ayo had to say as she stepped towards you. She informed you both that Zemo would be going to the Raft and told Bucky to stay away from Wakanda for a while; both very fair statements that you weren’t surprised to hear. What you were surprised to hear was Bucky’s next sentence.

“I may have another favor to ask of you.”

Ayo raised an eyebrow, signaling for him to go on. Bucky caught your eye and his lips twitched up into a small smirk, before he faced her again and started speaking Xhosa, making you groan.

After their conversation, Ayo nodded. “We will drop it off here tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.”

You pouted as Ayo turned to walk to their ship, Bucky starting to lead you back to the car. “You’re not gonna tell me what that was about, are you?”

“Nope.”

You huffed. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

He chuckled. “You’ll find out.”

“Soon?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

Bucky shrugged, pulling open the passenger side door for you. “On when Sam wants you to see it.”

You narrowed your eyes, a smile spreading on your face. “You got Sammy a present?”

“Maybe.”

You groaned, sliding into the car before he shut the door, watching him jog to his side. “You’re so annoying.” You spoke once he got in and started the vehicle again.

“If you feel that way, you don’t have to come to Louisiana with me to drop it off.”

Scoffing, you gaped at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

He shrugged, turning in his seat and putting his hand on the back of your headrest to back out of the spot he parked in. “If I’m so annoying-”

“You’re so dramatic!”

“I thought I was annoying?”

“You’re both!”

He grinned at you, before looking through the windshield, blinking as something occurred to him. “I dunno where we’re going. We have to come back tomorrow morning-”

“Just drive, Buck.”

He blinked at you, eyebrows raising in slight shock. “What?”

You shrugged, nodding your head to the road. “Drive. Wherever we want, remember? Just until tomorrow. We can go back to reality after we pick up Sammy’s gift, but for now-”

“Just drive?” He guessed, the corners of his lips pulling up.

You smirked, shooting him a wink before propping your feet up on the dash again, turning up the radio, and linking your hands behind your head. “Exactly, Buckaroo.”

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st4rlabsforever · 3 years

Text

post-episode 3 fix-it

words: 2.9k

notes: i started a long fic based on this post after watching ep 3. i cannibalized some snippets from another fic i wrote last week so if you see similar scenes, that’s why. i think this will end up being 12-15k words endgame sambucky by the end, but i refuse to post on ao3 until it’s complete. this is the first 3 scenes. feel free to comment and message me your thoughts since i’m still very much in the writing phase :)

summary: “It’s the kind of statement that should be screamed into Bucky’s face, but he’s learning that when Sam’s angry – when he’s truly angry – he’s just as soft-spoken as he is when he’s in one of his pensive moods. And he lets his anger build and build and build until it bursts in spectacular fashion.”

“I didn’t back Steve on the Sokovia Accords,” Sam says unprompted one day. They’re so close to apprehending the Flagsmashers and wrapping up this ridiculous saga.

“I don’t follow,” Bucky says.

“I was the one who refused to sign it first. Not Steve.”

Sam says it so softly that Bucky has to strain to hear him. Sam is loud and chatty and half the time he keeps up a constant stream of chatter just to get on Bucky’s nerves, but Bucky’s coming to realize that when he really wants to make himself heard, he’s soft spoken and mild. Bucky doesn’t entirely follow his train of thought, though.

The thing is, Sam is unreadable when it really matters. He offers words of comfort where needed – in Germany, after seeing Walker with the shield that wasn’t his, knowing that it had affected Bucky just as much as himself; in Madripoor, Bucky’s hand on the throat of some henchman or other, Sam’s hand on his when the Soldier’s memories threatened to overtake him; even in Riga, when Bucky’s guilt over releasing T’Chaka’s killer bubbled to the surface and Sam had checked in with him even though he couldn’t have possibly known about Bucky’s meeting with Ayo. Sam speaks with his eyes, always a searching look that leaves Bucky raw and feeling like he’s been x-rayed. I see you, is what those eyes say.

In contrast, Bucky’s words of comfort feel hollow. He knows that Isaiah is still a live wire for Sam, checks in with him after Madripoor when he can tell the conversation with Nagel weighs heavy on his mind. But he doesn’t see the way Sam does. He knows he’d missed something important because that conversation had ended in an argument and a threat from Sam to destroy the shield.

He never gets a chance to ask Sam what he’s getting at, because Torres signals to them that they’re at the drop point before all hell breaks loose.

***

In the end, after Karli and the Power Broker and whoever else decides to show their head from the emporium of supervillains are dealt with and they finally have a moment of peace, Bucky says, “The shield looks good on you.”

Sam freezes a few paces ahead of Bucky, the shield strapped loosely to his wrist.

“We make a good team,” Bucky says softly.

What he doesn’t expect is for Sam to whirl around suddenly. The look of barely restrained fury is enough to nearly knock Bucky off he’s feet. They fight without ever really fighting all the time, squabbles over who went left and who went right and who was supposed to lead and who was supposed to follow, but never has he seen Sam look like this before. The fury verges on hurt and it’s so fucking visceral that Bucky can barely breathe.

“You don’t get to say that,” Sam says quietly. His voice shakes and he closes his eyes like he’s steadying himself.

“I said I’d squash it until the mission was over, and I did. But you know what? I’m not doing this anymore.”

“Sam–”

“You don’t get to tell me what a good team is. Not after all the shit we just went through. You invited yourself to Munich, and I thought, ‘Fine. I could use the extra set of hands.’ We went through it together against Thanos and I respected that.”

Sam shakes his head. “But then you went off on some lone wolf woe-is-me bullshit, and look at where it got us. You broke Zemo out without even asking if I was down with that. You knew I wasn’t and you forced my hand. Now I’m an accomplice.”

“He was our only lead–”

“Bullshit. That field trip to Madripoor led us right back to Karli. Torres ended up tracking them to Riga anyway.”

“But the Power Broker–”

“–showed his ugly face in the end. All we got out of Madripoor was you digging up your trauma and us getting our faces plastered all over the internet. I promised Sharon one goddamn thing and I can’t even deliver on that now.”

“But I went along with it, fine,” Sam continues. “I knew it couldn’t have been easy reaching back into that headspace, doing what you did to Selby’s men.” The memory blindsides Bucky. “So I tabled it.” Sam taps out a tally with his fingers.

“And back in Baltimore, you’d been too keyed up about Steve being wrong about you to even listen to what I had to say. Again, I tabled it.” Another tally.

“I’ve been meeting you halfway this entire time, man, and I’ve gotten near nothing in return. You kept Isaiah a secret from me, and at first I thought you were just clueless about how damn significant it would’ve been for me to know about him.” Sam shakes his head.

“But then we met him. You saw what they did to him. The one Black supersoldier – a fucking hero – and look what they did to him. You saw it with your own eyes and you still sat there and lectured me about what you thought I should’ve done with that goddamn shield.”

“There’s precedent for it, you know,” Sam says. It takes Bucky a moment to realize Sam is expecting an answer.

Bucky doesn’t know, is the thing. He feels like he’s all of five years old again, put on the spot. He’s reminded of when Zemo just had to let him know about the African American experience; he’d felt chastised and embarrassed enough to pretend like he’d had any clue what themes lurked in Marvin Gaye’s work. Sam just searches him with those eyes, searches Bucky for something yet unfathomable and decides he hasn’t found it. That hurts more than anything else; Bucky wishes he could sink into the ground, make himself as small as possible. Sam doesn’t notice, or else doesn’t care, and just plows on with a scoff.

“You don’t even know the true history of the country you’re living in. Figures.” He shakes his head. “You’re not ever going to be able to separate the shield from the history Black folks have endured at the hands of this country. Not now, not ever.”

Sam doesn’t even look angry anymore. Angry, Bucky can deal with. It would be a relief, even.

Instead, Sam looks at him with a disappointment that somehow surpasses what Steve could have ever accomplished.

“Whatever. I tabled that, too,” Sam says. “And then after Madripoor, after we heard that doctor go on and on about Isaiah’s blood like he wasn’t even a real human-being? I said my piece and all you did was throw that shield bullshit back in my face.”

“Sam–” Bucky tries again. He’s mortified to hear the crack in his own voice.

“It’s honestly breathtaking,” Sam says with something that might be akin to genuine wonder, or maybe even morbid curiosity in his voice. “We saw the same things in Baltimore and Madripoor, but your head was so far up your own ass that you never once stopped to think all of it was just proof to me. That the shield in the hands of a Black man wouldn’t make any damn sense.”

It’s the kind of statement that should be screamed into Bucky’s face, but he’s learning that when Sam’s angry – when he’s truly angry – he’s just as soft-spoken as he is when he’s in one of his pensive moods. And he lets his anger build and build and build until it bursts in spectacular fashion.

Sam’s not even done yet. “And that’s another thing. Stealing the shield from Walker…” Sam rolls his eyes at the memory. “You want to run around with that giant frisbee, fine. That’s your business. But then you forced it on me–”

“That’s not fair,” Bucky says immediately. Desperately. “You didn’t have to accept it.”

“The whole damn country was watching,” Sam says hotly. “It was either accept it, or shit all over Steve fucking Rogers’s legacy and make myself into the villain half the country was already hoping I’d turn out to be.”

“You were dead wrong for that,” Sam says. “I stuck around until we took down Karli because it was the right thing to do. After Munich, though, this little adventure was all you. Zemo, Madripoor, the shield.”

Sam shoves the shield into Bucky’s arms, the impact so sudden that it forces him back a step.

“Since you’re so obsessed with this thing, it’s yours. Congrats,” Sam says sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ll do it proud.”

Bucky lets out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.

“For what it’s worth,” Sam says, “Steve might not have understood everything about me. But in Vienna, when it came time to sign the accords? He was considering it. I put my foot down first and he listened.”

Sam shrugs. “Whatever you thought we were, it's not a team.”

Bucky knows where to drive the knife in to kill a man in as few twists of the wrist as possible – a brutal economy of movement and technique. But Sam...it pales in comparison to what Sam’s capable of. His weapons aren’t knives and his targets may not be made of flesh and blood, but he knows exactly where he needs to strike to rip Bucky open raw. Bucky feels like he’s been flayed alive.

“How about that long vacation?” Sam says, and claps Bucky on the shoulder.

And we’ll never have to see each other ever again goes unsaid.

Fuck.

***

The thing about ignoring Sam’s texts was that Bucky responded if they were actually important. It just so happened that most of the nonsense Sam sent was inane prattling about his day, about his job, his sister, his nephews. Now that he’s on the receiving end of it, though, it feels awful.

3/25/21, 2:58 AM

I’m sorry.

Delivered

3/28/21, 1:51 AM

Can we talk?

Delivered

3/31/21, 3:05 AM

Let me know what to do and I’ll do it.

Read 3:34 AM

4/1/21, 12:42 AM

Or if there’s anything you need.

Read 1:05 AM

Yesterday, 1:00 AM

I’m available if you need another body for a mission.

Read 1:02 AM

A week into the admittedly one-sided exchange, Sam turns his damn read receipts on. It’s ridiculous and it’s fucking asinine and it gets under Bucky’s skin immediately. It’s a form of twenty-first century psychological warfare that he’s unfamiliar with and already can’t stand. Mainly, he hates that it makes him seem desperate (he’s not), needy (he might be, especially when he realizes with horror that he actually misses Sam’s rambling texts), and ridiculous (he definitely is, because he’s letting petty mind games get to him).

Normally, Sam would send him nearly daily updates on his comings and goings – whether he’d been in New York, D.C., or New Orleans. The radio silence is unsettling. Bucky wonders if Sam made good on his promise to take a long vacation. And then....

The thing about apologies is that Bucky isn’t sure he’s ever done a proper one in his entire life, at least nothing beyond a rote “I’m sorry” with the “let’s move on” part left unspoken. But it stands to reason, Bucky thinks, that a proper apology can’t be given if he’s not completely certain what he’s dealing with. That’s all well and good because he’s got the world at the tips of his fingers, is what Yori always said. And when he grows frustrated with reading on his tiny phone screen, the New York Public Library is only a train ride away.

Sam had mentioned precedent, so Bucky’s first search is for medical experimentation. He knows for a fact he was good at this once, a memory of Steve whining about him being too good at exams coming up unbidden. He reads voraciously. Anything and everything that might offer a clue on what he’d missed. And it doesn’t take long for him to find what he’s looking for.

He reads with dawning horror. The Tuskegee syphilis experiments. Eugenics. God, the fucking Nazis had even modeled their race science on the American school of thought. The things that the history books left out. Some of it was even happening under his nose in the 30s, he’d just been blissfully unaware. He somehow ends up down a rabbit hole where words like `prison industrial complex’ and `school-to-prison pipeline’ make increasingly more persistent appearances. New Jim Crow. COINTELPRO. War on drugs. The way all of these horrors reached their long arms into the twenty-first century.

Bucky’s going to be sick. The memories come up one after another.

Just give him your ID so we can leave.

You think you can wake up one day and decide who you want to be? It doesn’t work like that. Well, maybe it does for folks like you.

So you’re telling me that there was a Black supersoldier decades ago and nobody knew about it.

This is what you’re not going to do. You’re not going to come here in your over-extended life and tell me about my rights.

The shield wasn’t yours to give away.

He spends the next week in his downtime reading. With the mission being over and his parole in jeopardy, his downtime mostly coincides with every day of the week.

Had Steve known?

No, he thinks. Steve was compassionate, but he wouldn’t have known because he’d taken one look at the problems of twenty-first century America and decided he’d had enough. Then he’d ran back to the 40s to live out some fantasy that simply didn’t – couldn’t – exist anymore. Had he eventually become aware of all the issues plaguing this country that they’d been able to ignore as starry-eyed kids in Brooklyn? Bucky hopes not, because that would mean he’d...no.

A part of Bucky thinks he’s so surprised because he’d thought things – race relations, civil rights, not things, his brain amends – had been getting better in the 40s. Deep down, though, he knows that’s a lie. A 2 AM read through Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States confirms it. Shady politicians. Klansmen who went back to their day jobs as cops, judges, firefighters. Mass incarceration taking its place as the new king on the throne of segregation. Evidently,

There had been plenty of folks – white folks – raising an uproar about these hidden horrors back then. The seeds of those movements had even been there in the 30s. Bucky tells himself that he’d been raised during the Great Depression, that his family had been too focused on putting food on the table to focus on social movements, but that, too, ends up being a lie. The poorest and working class whites – some, at least – in movement and solidarity with civil rights. Not him, though. Apparently he’d had his head up his ass back then, too.

Bucky can see the bigger picture a tiny bit more clearly, now.

Fine. So he’s been disarmed of the little lies he’d used as shields, and he also owes Sam one hell of an apology.

Somehow, he doesn’t think “I’m sorry, I was ignorant then but I read some books and now I know better” is going to cut it. Maybe a commitment to do better would work? Perhaps after Baltimore, but not now. That ship had long since sailed. Some grand act of service, then? He’s sure he can think of something Sam needs in this post-Blip world that he can provide. He vaguely remembers Sarah mentioning something about a ship and bank loan. That could be a starting point.

It doesn’t take much time to find the public records on the Wilson family business and then the not-so-public records on the denied bank loan. It wouldn’t take much for him to pry a little, not when seedy bankers were astonishingly amenable to the threat of violence. But he’s reminded of Zemo and figures that he ought not to do anything so drastic that could jeopardize Sam’s family situation further.

He snorts. Did growth that came several months late still count?

In the end, he decides to rip the bandage off quickly, which is how he finds himself in the sticky Louisiana heat with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, staring back at an incredulous Sam through his open door.

“I did some reading recently,” Bucky says.

“Hmm.”

It’s not outright refusal, so Bucky continues.

“About, um, the things you mentioned last time. Precedent.”

“Huh.”

For someone who’s normally so expressive with his language, Sam’s one-word answers as nerve-wracking as anything.

“I didn’t fully appreciate the situation that you were in. That you’re still in,” Bucky amends.

Sam shrugs. “It’s cool,” he says in a way that doesn’t sound like he really believes it. Bucky wonders if this is a test; he feels just as lost as he did on that plane a week ago.

“Let’s do this outside,” Sam says, closing the door behind him and ushering Bucky away from it. “Walk with me.”

They head down to the pier mostly in silence until Bucky breaks it. “I’m sorry for making it all about me,” he says.

Sam stares at him. It’s true Bucky might stare a little too much on occasion, but Sam’s stares are utterly unnerving in the way he seems to see right through Bucky when he really wants to, like he’s already mapped out all there is to know.

#sambucky #sam wilson #Bucky Barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws spoilers

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 years

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Baby’s First Christmas–Zac Efron

Masterlist

"Zac, honey, where's. . . "

I sighed when my husband turned around with our six-month-old daughter in his arms.

"She's supposed to be asleep," I chuckled as I walked over to them.

"She wanted to see the tree," he said nodding towards the tree we just finished decorating.

I walked over and wrapped my arms around his waist. I smiled as he started humming White Christmas. I looked over at Lucy and chuckled as her eyes started to get drowsy.

"She really should be in bed, babe," I whispered. "It's late."

"Fine," he sighed dramatically. "When you're older, remember this night, Luc. Mommy sent you to bed, not Daddy."

"Gee thanks," I joked.

I kissed our daughter's head before Zac carried her to the nursery. I smiled and watched as Zac gently put Lucy in her crib. Instead of leaving, he looked down at her and watched as she fell asleep.

I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. "You okay?" I whispered.

"This is going to be a great Christmas."

* * * * *

I held Lucy as Zac hung the lights outside. All week, Zac has been running around like crazy trying to get ready for the holiday. I bit my lip as he started to climb higher on the ladder.

"Honey," I said subconsciously tightening my arms around Lucy. "Please be careful. Maybe. . . Maybe we should wait for your brother."

"He's late," Zac said as he struggled to find the hook. "And we need to get this done before we go to the Christmas Tree Farm and pick out another tree."

"Another tree? We already. . . We already have a tree."

"I wanted to put a tree in Lucy's room," he said.

"In Lucy's room? Zac. . . Honey, please come down."

I gasped as Zac almost fell off the ladder. I held my breath as he caught himself and carefully climbed down the ladder. He looked up at me and walked over, taking Lucy from me.

"You okay?" He asked as he bounced Lucy.

"Why did you. . . We could've. . " I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair. "Zac, honey, you could've fallen off that ladder. And then what? We spend Christmas in the ER?"

"I'm sorry."

"You have to be careful," I started rambling. "I need you, Zac. We need you. It isn't just you and me anymore. We have a daughter. She needs you to be careful."

Zac walked over and wrapped an arm around my waist, pressing a kiss to my lips. We laughed and broke the kiss as Lucy pushed us apart.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I'm sorry too," I sighed. "I just got scared for a second."

"It's okay," he chuckled. "I love you."

"I love you too."

* * * * *

Lucy was in her booster seat playing with some dough while Zac and I made Christmas sugar cookies. I looked over and laughed as I saw Zac covered in flour, struggling to roll out the dough.

"This won't stop sticking to the stupid rolling pin," Zac said angrily between grunts.

"Here," I chuckled as I grabbed his pin and rubbed some flour on it. "Now try it."

Zac smirked when he rolled the pin over the dough without it sticking. "Thanks," he chuckled. "I'm an idiot."

"That's okay," I giggled. "You're my idiot."

We spent the next little bit rolling out cookies and placing them in the oven. As they cooked, we watched Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer.

"Damn it!"

I put Lucy down in her playpen and walked into the kitchen. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"They're burnt," he said, his jaw clenched as he placed the pan of burnt cookies on the counter.

"Okay," I shrugged. "Babe, we have like two dozen more that we haven't even cooked yet."

I watched as he threw the oven mitt on the counter and angrily ran his fingers through his hair.

"Zac, are you okay?"

"I can't believe I burned the cookies," he said under his breath. I walked over and wrapped my arms around his neck. I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his. When we broke apart, I lowered back down onto my toes.

"They are just cookies," I whispered. "We have two dozen more."

"You wouldn't have burned them," he mumbled. I rolled my eyes as I grabbed his chin and made him look back at me.

"They are just cookies," I repeated. "Let me hear you say it."

Zac sighed as he sent me a playful glare before sighing. "They are just cookies," he said slowly.

I opened my mouth to say something but stopped when Lucy started to cry.

"Sounds like it's time for her nap," I giggled. I pressed another kiss to his cheek before leaving to get her.

I stopped in the doorway and noticed Zac still fixated on the burnt cookies. My heart sank when I saw how upset he was. I was about to say something when Lucy cried again.

After laying her down, I walked back into the other room. I hesitated when I saw Zac flipping through one of Lucy's Christmas books. He looked over his shoulder when he heard me walk in.

"Is she asleep?" He asked, the disappointment in his voice.

"She is," I said as I walked over and leaned over the couch, wrapping my arms around his neck. I kissed his cheek, my lips lingering.

"What's going on, babe?" I whispered. "You've been oddly intense this entire holiday."

"I just," he sighed. I walked around the couch and sat next to him. I reached up and started running my fingers through his hair.

"Talk to me," I gently encouraged.

"I wanted Lu's first Christmas to be special, but everything I've tried to do has failed."

"Zac," I sighed. "Babe, that is a lot of pressure to put on yourself. Her first Christmas doesn't need to be perfect. She's six-months-old. Odds are, Lucy won't remember a Christmas until she's at least a few years old. Let's just focus on spending Christmas together as a family."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I was talking to Seth and he kept saying how hard it was to be a husband, a father, and an actor. I guess. . . I guess it started to get to me. I was away more than half your pregnancy, Y/N. You had to do a lot of the shopping alone. You had to get the nursery ready on your own. You had to do almost everything without me. All because of my job. And I didn't want you to feel like a single mom because you're not."

"I know that," I smiled. "I also know that you'll always be there for me and Lucy. And any other kids we have."

"I almost missed Lucy's birth because my flight was delayed," he said, grabbing my hand that wasn't playing with his hair and intertwining our fingers.

"But you made it," I said clearly. "Honey, I have never felt like a single mother. You bought some baby things online when you were in Germany and had them sent here. You forced your brother to come help me set up the crib when you were in London. Your mom planned and hosted an entire baby shower for me. You got to the hospital right when I needed you. You even volunteered to quit acting all-together when I first got pregnant."

"I just. . ." He stuttered.

"No," I gently cut him off. "Zac, you have always been there when I needed you. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I married you. Hell, I knew what I was getting into when we started dating. I'm going to say it again; you have always been and will always be here when I need you. That is all I care about."

I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. I giggled as he instantly deepened the kiss by pulling me onto his lap. Before things could get too heated, Zac broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine.

"I promise," he whispered, "if you ever need me, I will hop on a plane, a bus, a boat, a train, rent a car and drive, whatever it takes to get to you. I will always be there when you need me."

"And that is why I love you," I chuckled.

"I love you too," he smirked as he pressed his lips to mine. Before we could get too carried away, I broke the kiss.

"Zac," I said gently, "can we please focus on having a good Christmas instead of the perfect Christmas?"

He sighed as he tightened his arms around my waist. "Okay," he gave in. "I will change my focus from having the perfect Christmas to having a fun Christmas with my wife and daughter."

"Good," I giggled as I tightened my arms around him.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," I whispered when our lips were inches apart. I closed the gap between us and we instantly started moving our lips in sync.

"Babe?" I mumbled against his lips.

"Yes?" He chuckled.

"We still have two dozen cookies."

"Oh yeah," he said slowly breaking the kiss. "We should probably get them cooked and decorated before Lucy wakes up."

#zac efron #zac efron imagines #zac efron x reader #zac x wife #zac x family

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

Could you please write #43 grandparents/neighbors one?

43. we’re having our family meal at my grandparents’ house this year so fingers crossed your parents still live next door and you grew up to be even hotter

from winter writing prompts here

oh god this one got so long. sorry everyone! thank you to @k-sci-janitor for the alien bit because it was so fucking funny

------------

Holidays have gotten a little weird to manage since Newt transformed into a fully-fledged adult with an apartment and a job and stuff, so while he hasn’t made it to the big Geiszler celebration in Germany every December since starting college out of elementary school, he still tries to make a point of dropping by his dad’s for dinner and a movie or something to fill his holiday quota. It’s fine by him; he loves his family, but they’re definitely overwhelming, and trying to submit final grades and work on syllabuses for the next semester all while distant relatives ruffle his hair and ask him when he’s going to hit his growth spurt is not his idea of a relaxing time. It’s a constant point of contention between him and his dad. This year more than most, apparently.

“Your grandmother misses you!” he tells Newt sadly over their Chinese takeout. “She calls me every week to ask how you are, and why you never visit with them. Every week.” He waves a fork at Newt. “You’re breaking her heart.”

“I’m in the lab, like, twenty-four-seven, dad,” Newt sighs. It’s a well-rehearsed conversation at this point, but it doesn’t get any less tiresome. Especially because he knows his dad is lying about the phone call thing—Newt is a great grandson and texts his grandmother plenty, thank you very much, he would know if he was breaking her heart. “I’m working straight through winter break this year. Seriously.”

“That’s what you did last year,” Newt’s dad says. “And the year before that…” Newt turns the volume up on the TV to cut his dad off before he can segue into the next part of his argument, which is (usually) that Newt needs to work on his personal life, maybe settle down, produce some grandkids of his own. Or at least adopt a cat. Also well-rehearsed.

He’s not sure why he says what he does next—maybe in a desperate attempt to distract his dad further. Maybe because of the sudden onslaught of childhood memories the mention of his grandparents’ house brought on. “Hey, do you remember that boy who used to live next door to grandma?” he says. “He had the weird haircut and always dressed kind of funny?” Old-fashioned, and a little too formal for the sort of things that little kids tend to do, climbing trees or playing in the mud—sweatervests and polished loafers and starched-white knee-highs.

Newt’s dad blinks at him. Newt half expects him to declare that Newt is nuts, and that he has no idea what he’s talking about, like this is one of those horror stories where the childhood friend turns out to be some ghost who died fifty years prior. The clothing would match up, he guesses. But he smiles in recognition a moment later. “You mean the Gottlieb boy?” he says.

“Gottlieb,” Newt echoes. It sounds familiar enough. “Hermann, I think. When I’d stay with grandma for the summer we would play together every day. I wonder what he’s doing now.” Hermann was a smart guy, a real geek like Newt; he used to carry a graphing calculator around in his pocket and build the most goddamn pristine model spacecrafts Newt had ever seen. Hermann’s dad shipped him off to a prestigious boarding school the last summer Newt spent there, when they were around twelve or so. Newt started at MIT not long after. “Dude’s probably designing rocket ships by now or something.”

“You could ask him yourself if you came with me,” Newt’s dad laughs. “The Gottliebs never moved away, and their children actually visit. I’m sure your Hermann visits, too.”

“Ha,” Newt says. “Yeah.”

It’s snowing by the time Newt and his dad finish their movie, and Newt (fearing his dad’s driving even in ideal conditions) declines the offer of a lift home to trudge his way through it to his T stop instead. It’s nice to have the chance to be alone with his thoughts, anyway, because he can’t seem to get funny little Hermann Gottlieb out of his head. What is he doing now?

A quick Facebook search on the train produces a few Hermann Gottliebs, but none of them promising—none of them have the brown eyes or strangely angular face (devoid of any baby fat even that young) Newt remembers, none of them are from the right German countryside, none of them went to a preppy English boarding school. Google (utilizing the information Newt does have) is a little more rewarding, and by the time Newt presses the button to request his stop, he’s scrounged up a decent amount of info: Hermann Gottlieb has a doctorate in astrophysics, Hermann Gottlieb publishes papers at a slightly terrifying rate, and Hermann Gottlieb turned out kinda hot.

As Newt stares down at a slightly grainy current photograph of his old friend—haircut and clothing unchanged, a cane in hand, some round librarian glasses perched on the end of his nose, wide mouth twisted into a scowl—he suddenly recalls another thing about Hermann Gottlieb: the summer Hermann was sent away to boarding school was the summer that Hermann kissed Newt goodbye, shyly and tearfully, under the shade of the tall maple tree in his yard. It was the last time Newt ever saw Hermann. It was Newt’s first kiss.

“Oh, boy,” Newt says.

He texts his dad when he gets back to his apartment. When do we leave?

Newt feels like the belle of the fucking ball when he steps into his grandparents’ house a week later, snow dusting his shoulders, small suitcase clenched in his hand. His cheeks are kissed; his scarf and hat and leather jacket are brushed off and tossed onto a coat rack; his hair is in parts smoothed down (too messy!) and ruffled (too flat!); he’s hugged more times than he has been in the entire last year, probably. “Still playing around with bugs in the dirt, eh, Newt?” his grandfather booms, tucking Newt into the crook of his arm with enough force to knock Newt’s glasses off.

“Actually,” Newt squeaks, scrambling for both what he remembers of his very rusty German, and his glasses before they can hit the ground, “entomology isn’t really my main focus at—”

“Newt’s studying jellyfish now,” Newt’s dad declares proudly. “He went on a diving expedition this July.”

“Diving? How exciting,” Newt’s grandmother says.

“Yeah,” Newt says. He pushes his glasses back on. “Yeah, it was fascinating, I was lucky to get the funding for it. You wouldn’t believe the sorts of—”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Newt’s cousin says.

“My little Newt’s a daredevil!” Newt’s dad says.

“It’s not that dangerous,” Newt says. “As long as you’re—”

“What happened to that nice man your father said you were dating?” Newt’s grandfather says. “With the, the what was it, the poetry? The poet? We thought you’d bring him!”

Newt flushes. Trust his dad to talk up some random guy Newt dated in March like it was a long-term affair and not an elongated one-night stand that fizzled out after three weeks. Though maybe that one’s on Newt—it’s not like he mentioned the one-night stand part to his dad, after all. He definitely didn’t mention that the guy ended it with a poem, too. “We broke up,” he says, weakly. He wriggles out from the throng of the crowd. “Look, it’s so great seeing you all, but I’m actually, like, really tired, soooooo…?”

“Oh, of course you are,” Newt’s grandmother says. She pats his head. “What a long flight you must have had! We’ll send someone up for you for dinner—you can have your old guest room.”

“Cool,” Newt says.

He scurries up the stairs.

The guest room he slept in during those summers is almost exactly the way he remembers it, but a little dustier—the floral quilt on the bed, his grandma’s sewing table crammed into the corner, the bookcase stocked with a weird combination of kid’s books and illustrated encyclopedias that Newt used to pore over for hours as a kid, often with Hermann. Newt draws back the embroidered curtains and peers out the window at the Gottliebs’ snow-capped house next door. Hermann’s window was directly across from his. It still is, technically, though the curtains (these navy blue and embroidered with little constellations) are pulled tight, and Newt has a feeling that Hermann hasn’t set foot in his old room in well over a decade. Two decades, probably.

He remembers the one summer he showed Hermann how to make a soup can telephone, and they managed to string it all the way across between their windows before discovering it kinda didn’t work as well as Newt said it would. He remembers when Hermann’s dad banned him from the Gottlieb house for tracking water all over their front hallway after he and Hermann went wading in the creek, but it was really Hermann who did it, because he forgot to take his shoes off and they got soaked, and Newt just took the fall for it so Hermann wouldn’t get in trouble. And when Hermann asked Newt to play astronaut with him, and Newt insisted on being an alien and mimed the chestburster scene from Alien, and Hermann freaked out so bad he fell in a mud puddle and got grounded for ruining his clothing, and Newt got grounded for that and for watching Alien when he wasn’t supposed to, and they spent the following few days staring sadly out across at each other before Newt’s grandma finally got tired of his moping and sent him to work weeding the garden. He remembers knotting a little friendship bracelet for Hermann out of embroidery thread he found in his grandmother’s sewing basket and Hermann vowing to keep it until he died.

Newt’s half of the soup can phone is still on the windowsill, though the string snapped and crumbled apart years ago. He picks at the peeling Chicken Noodle label, so distracted that he almost doesn’t notice the light suddenly seeping through at the edges of Hermann’s curtains, or the way they’re pushed open—almost.

Hermann—real, live, adult Hermann, botched haircut and round glasses and all—stares out at Newt with a shocked expression on his face. Newt drops the can with a clatter.

Then he waves.

“Hey, Grandma?” Newt says, poking his head into the kitchen. Tonight’s dinner is a massive pot of soup boiling away on the stovetop, dessert a mountain of cookies and tiny pastries on serving platters on the counters. Newt hasn’t had food that looked this good since he moved out, to be honest. The intersection of Newt’s sad lack of cooking skills and his attempts at vegetarianism means he eats a lot of boxed mac-and-cheese and frozen Vegetable Lovers’ pizzas. “Are you—?"

“Oh, Newt!” Newt’s grandmother says. She sets down her wooden spoon. “Are you feeling rested, then?”

“Yeah,” Newt says. “Grandma, I was wondering, could I—uh—maybe run some food over to the Gottliebs? To be…neighborly? We just have so much, and—”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Newt’s grandmother says. “They keep to themselves, mostly, but I can’t imagine they’d turn it down. You might even see your little friend again! What was his name? You were so fond of him.”

“Hermann,” Newt says, quickly shoving cookies into a red-lid plastic container. “Thanks, Grandma.”

He tucks the tupperware under his arm and nearly wipes out on the icy front path he runs to the Gottliebs’ so fast. Before he can so much as catch his breath and knock, their door swings open; Hermann, dressed in a tacky Hannukah sweater, arches an eyebrow at him. “I saw you sprint over here like a bloody madman,” he says, in blessed English. He must’ve remembered how shitty Newt’s German was when they were kids. “Hello, Newton. What’s so terribly important?”

His voice got deeper—expected—and he swapped out his German accent for an English one somewhere along the way. Probably at his stuffy boarding school. He also got taller—he’s got a few inches on Newt now, but Newt admits that’s not exactly hard. God, he’s even hotter in person. “Uh,” Newt says. Why is he here? Oh, right. He thrusts out the tupperware. “I brought some cookies over for you?”

Hermann peers down at the offering over his glasses. His forehead wrinkles. “How considerate,” he says. He pulls an olive-green parka on and steps out onto the porch, tugging the door shut behind him. He taps at a peeling porch swing with the end of his cane. “Just leave them there. Would you like to take a walk?”

It’s freezing, and snowing, but for some reason, a walk sounds like the best idea in the world right now. “Yes, please,” Newt says, and chucks the cookies onto the swing.

“I must say,” Hermann says, after their meandering walk around the Gottliebs’ yard takes them to the old maple tree. The branches are bare, but thick, and shield them from most of the falling snow. Hermann’s breath puffs out white in front of his angular face. The last time I stood here, Newt thinks, he kissed me. “I really did not expect to see you.”

“I didn’t expect to see you, either,” Newt admits. “From what I remember, you and your family weren’t—uh—well, very close. I didn’t think you’d be coming back to share in the holiday cheer with them, is what I mean.”

The corner of Hermann’s mouth twitches up. “That’s certainly one way of describing it. Yes, I suppose you’re right—my father is a bit of a bastard, isn’t he?” Newt laughs awkwardly, unsure whether to agree or attempt to weakly the defend a guy who openly hated him for being a bad influence on Hermann most of his childhood; he’s grateful when Hermann continues and saves him the choice. “This is the first year I’ve come home in a long while. My brother’s just had a daughter, you see, and I thought I should start getting used to playing uncle.”

“Oh, congrats,” Newt says. Hermann shrugs, and Newt has the distinct feeling that this is Hermann’s older brother, who used to dissemble Hermann’s telescope and hide the pieces around the house when Hermann annoyed him, and tattled on Newt and Hermann to Hermann’s parents the one time Newt snuck in to see Hermann after he got banned. He always made Newt thankful that he was an only child. “Same here, actually. Not the uncle thing—I mean I haven’t visited since I was in college. Too busy.”

“I know,” Hermann says, and then adds teasingly (in a way that makes color flood Newt’s cheeks and his heart beat just a little faster), “I’ve looked you up online. Er—quite a bit recently, in fact. I was curious. You’ve made quite the name for yourself, haven’t you, Dr. Geiszler?”

“I,” Newt squeaks, and then coughs. “I mean, I guess? I like…science.”

“I oughtn’t be surprised,” Hermann says. “You were always giving me bugs, and salamanders, and funny little frogs—”

Newt liked bugs, and salamanders, and frogs, but he liked Hermann more, and the gifts had a lot more to do with the latter than the former, because what kid wouldn’t want bugs or salamanders or frogs, right? Not that Hermann ever appreciated them—especially not the worms Newt would pluck from the sidewalks after rainstorms. He thinks he got grounded for that one, too, because his grandma wouldn’t believe that he really wasn’t trying to terrorize the poor Gottlieb boy. “And what about you?” Newt says. He pokes his elbow into Hermann’s side. “Dr. Gottlieb? Guess those model rockets paid off.”

(“No, Newton,” Hermann would snap at him on the rare occasions he would allow Newt to watch him piece one together, “the glue hasn’t dried yet. You have to be patient, or else it’ll fall apart.”)

“Not yet,” Hermann says, “but I hope soon.”

Hermann smiles at him. A snowflake catches in his eyelashes—his long, pretty, dark eyelashes. “Do you remember when you kissed me here?” Newt blurts out.

“It’s hardly the sort of thing I’d forget,” Hermann says. He reaches out and tucks a piece of Newt’s hair up into his hat. “I like your tattoos—I saw the photographs on your social media accounts. They suit you.” Newt wonders if this means Hermann saw the shirtless selfie he posted on Instagram. “I’m also pleased to see you’ve gotten your braces removed. It wasn’t a very pleasant experience last time.”

Then he leans in and kisses Newt. Again, technically. It’s so light and brief Newt hardly believes it even happened. Their glasses clack together, and when Hermann pulls away, he straightens out Newt’s.

“I confess,” Hermann says, “that I’m wholly pleased to see how you’ve turned out. I hope that wasn’t too forward of me. I’ve been thinking about doing it all night.”

“Jeez, dude,” Newt says, blinking at him, his head swimming just a little. Hermann looks smug. “Not, uh, not too forward. So. Uh. You wanna get dinner or something this week and catch up?”

Hermann snorts, and nods.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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duhragonball · 3 years

Text

Battle Tendency Liveblog: JJBA Ch. 65-66

This is the start of the “Ultimate Warriors from Ancient Times” arc, but I want to focus on these two chapters because they feature Mark. I’ve got a lot to say about Mark under the cut, but the short version is that he’s a lousy Nazi and he deserves everything that happens to him.

A large chunk of Chapter 65 is just Caesar hanging out in Joseph and Speedwagon’s hotel room. They try to play cards, but they’re both cheats. This wouldn’t bother me at all until Speedwagon points out that he’s been here for eight hours, and never bothered to explain why. You’d think Joseph would have demanded an answer a long time ago, since he’s not known for patience.

As it turns out, Caesar’s been waiting for Mark, a buddy of his in the German Army. Stroheim was in the German Army too, and he told Joseph that the Nazis had discovered three other Pillar Men in Rome. That’s why he and Speedwagon came here, after all. Well, Caesar’s an Italian, and Italy and Germany are allies, so Caesar managed to persuade the Germans (through Mark) to let him take a look at the Pillar Men. So in this chapter, Mark rolls up in a car and drives them over to the site.

But we already know what happened at the site in Chapter 64. The Pillar Men have already reawakened, and all the Nazi soldiers stationed there have been slaughtered. When Mark leads our heroes into the catacombs, they find the remains of the Germans, while Mark bumps into the Pillar Men themselves. (Note: the above image is not to scale).

The thing is, bumping into the Pillar Men is hazardous to your health. We saw that vampire grab Santana and large chunks of his body were completely absorbed. The same thing happens to Mark, only faster, because Wamuu doesn’t even slow down as he walks past him. He just walks right through Mark and half of his body is gone.

So when I first watched the JoJo anime, it was right after I watched the Hellsing Ultimate anime, and I got a kick out of seeing two completely different anime takes on vampire lore. Let’s face it, the Pillar Men are presented as something beyond mere vampires, but they’re basically just super-vampires, not so different from Alucard in Hellsing. And both make use of the Nazis, except in Hellsing, the Nazis are the villains, while in Battle Tendency, they’re kinda sorta allies. Stroheim is clearly a bad guy, because he killed his prisoners and tormented Speedwagon, but Mark is presented as a completely sympathetic person. He’s got a sweetheart back home, Caesar’s the one who introduced them, and he’s planning to get married the next time he goes back to Germany. And for his very brief appearance in JJBA, he’s completely friendly and helpful to the heroes. We’re supposed to feel very sorry for him when he gets killed here.

Part 2 is my favorite, but I think this stands out as it’s biggest flaw. I get the idea. Hellsing was dealing with a lot of dark themes, and the protagonists were horrifying in their own right. So Kouta Hirano used the Nazis as villains to humanize his vampire characters. By contrast, Hirohiko Araki seems to be using the Nazis to dehumanize the Pillar Men. They’re so evil that even the Nazis look halfway decent by comparison. At least the Nazis are human, with human loves and fears and honor. The Pillar Men kill Mark without even noticing him, and Speedwagon likens this to a human stepping on an ant. I get what Araki is trying to do here, but it rings hollow. Fuck Mark, and fuck his Nazi fiance. The first time we see him, we get a close up of his Iron Cross medal, with the damn swastika in the middle of it. We’re supposed to buy into the idea that he’s “one of the good Germans”, and it’s 1938, so World War II hasn’t officially started yet, so somehow Mark is supposed to be cool. But no, I don’t buy it.

Let me go off on a little sidebar and try to explain how we got here. Battle Tendency was published in 1988. Back then, Hitler had been dead for decades, and Germany had been partitioned into two countries, East and West Germany. The Nazis seemed to have been consigned to the dustbin of history, and as time passed, pop culture grew more comfortable using the Nazis as historical villains in stories like this one. There was a sense that yeah, the Nazis were really bad, but they were gone now, and they would never come back. I think there was a similar mentality surrounding the Soviet Union after the U.S.S.R. dissolved. By the 2000′s there were all sorts of internet memes about Nazi stuff and Soviet stuff and it was rationalized as harmless envelope-pushing.

The problem is, it doesn’t seem so harmless in 2021, when Russia is a autocracy that meddles in U.S. elections, emboldening white nationalists in the process. The “alt-right” fanatics who marched in Charlottesville in 2017? The rioters who stormed the Capitol building this past January? Those assholes probably wouldn’t call themselves Nazis, but neither did the Nazis. They called themselves “National Socialists”, because they were trying to make their ugly policies sound more legitimate. The same holds true for “alt-right”, “economic nationalist”, “Qanon”, “truther”, and so on. They’re just new labels for the same old horseshit.

I don’t want to judge Battle Tendency too harshly, because it’s the product of a different time, an era when people could at least pretend that Nazism was one of the few problems that we didn’t have to worry about any more. The same mentality can be found in Hellsing. The Nazis in Hellsing are definitely villains, but the conceit is that they’re all immortal vampires or werewolves, because that’s the only way the Nazi menace could possibly exist in 1999. Otherwise, they’d all be dead of old age. Battle Tendency is set in 1938, so it takes the liberty of presenting sympathetic Nazis, because we already know they’ll be defeated in the end, right? We might as well see what makes them tick.

Araki may have thought that using Nazis in a story set in the 1930s would be no different than using Napoleonic French soldiers in a story set in the 1800s. And in the long run, that might be true, but I don’t think we’re there yet. In the here and now, it’s aged rather poorly.

Of course, just because Caesar and Joseph feel bad for Mark doesn’t mean I have to. And Araki may have been more self-aware than I’m giving him credit for. Nazi Germany wanted to set itself up as the Master Race, and in this fictional world, the Pillar Men have come to do the same thing, only they’re much, much further ahead of the game. I think part of the point of Stroheim and Mark was to contrast the Nazis’ supreamcist attitudes with Kars’ ambitions. For all of Stroheim’s boasting, he’s helpless against Kars’ might. But at the same time, for all of Kars’ power and brilliance, he’s ultimately chasing the same pipe dream as Hilter and his followers.

Let’s get back on track. While the good guys react in horror at what happened to Mark, the Pillar Men just stand around nearby and discuss their situation. They completely ignore our heroes, just like they ignored Mark. Kars wants to locate the Red Stone of Aja, because it’s the secret ingredient to the mask he designed that will make them immune to sunlight. Esidisi doesn’t understand how the stone helps their plan, but he’s totally on board. But as they head out, Wamuu suddenly attacks Kars, because Kars stepped in his shadow, and apparently Wamuu just lashes out at anyone who does this, friend or foe.

Wamuu is deeply sorry for this, and begs to be punished, but Kars apologizes instead, because he knows about Wamuu’s whole shadow thing and he feels that he’s the one who made the mistake here. I really love this exchange, because it defines the Pillar Men so well. As indifferent as they are to human lives, they respect one another a great deal. Kars is the leader, but he still treats the other two guys like close associates. He needs Wamuu’s sharp senses and keen warrior instincts. Meanwhile, Wamuu and Eisidisi practically worship Kars like a god. They’ve literally followed him around the world and across thousands of years in pursuit of his vision.

So yeah, if the goal here was to use Mark’s suffering to make me hate the Pillar Men, it doesn’t work. The Pillar Men are evil, sure, but they’re pretty cool bad guys. On the other hand, Mark looks ridiculous here, with Caesar holding and talking to half of his body. This looks like something out of a Tex Avery cartoon.

I mean, let’s set aside the whole Nazi thing for a moment. Why should I feel sorry for Mark? Because he’s in pain? He got cut in half! He should have died instantly! Because he was going to get married? We only met this guy one chapter ago! Because he’s Caesar’s friend? Well Caesar’s kind of a jerk too.

Anyway, Mark begs Caesar to kill him and end his suffering, so Caesar uses the Ripple to stop his heart. Or the half of it that’s still there, I guess.

Okay, so the whole point of Mark’s death is to really get the good guys fired up to battle the Pillar Men, right? Okay, Caesar tries to take them on, and he opens with the Bubble Launcher, the same move he talked about earlier. It didn’t beat Joseph, but Caesar’s Hamon power does hurt Wamuu’s skin, which is more than Joseph managed to do against Santana.

The Bubble Launcher is supposed to surround the opponent with dozens of soap bubbles charged with Hamon energy. Wamuu can’t escape without touching them and getting hurt. But Wamuu just sprouts all these long braids from his head and clothes, and swings them around with superhuman precision to know the bubbles away without hurting himself.

As it turns out, these Pillar Men are familiar with Hamon. Santana was surprised to encounter Joseph Joestar’s powers, but Wamuu and the others have fought Ripple users in the past. And Wamuu’s more intrigued than worried...

Oh, as one final aside, on the car ride to the catacombs, Speedwagon asked Caesar if he tried to use the Ripple to destroy the Pillar Men before they woke up, and Caesar explains that it didn’t work while they were in their dormant state. Remember, at the very start of this story, Speedwagon called Straizo because he wanted someone to use the Ripple to destroy Santana before he could wake up. Now we see that even if Straizo had agreed to his request, it wouldn’t have done any good. Sunlight doesn’t seem to kill the Pillar Men so much as it makes them turn to stone, and the Ripple only hurts them while they’re flesh and blood. So the only way to kill them seems to be by using Hamon in a direct confrontation, and that’s a tall order...

#jojo's bizarre adventure #battle tendency #joseph joestar #caesar zeppeli #robert e o speedwagon #mark #wamuu #kars #esidisi #get wrecked mark

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echo-three-one · 3 years

Text

Whatever It Takes

Still recovering from the injuries when they rescued Samantha and Maxine, Soap and France er- John and Francine sits out on the next mission and enjoys a little rest and recreation. Comfy right?

Chapter 8 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Previous Chapter : Alex - Just Like Old Times

"Experiment 001"

John 'Soap' MacTavish

Task Force 141 - Off Duty

London, United Kingdom

John barely passed the Physical Test and he was excited that he made it just in time with their next mission. But what he didn't expect was that he was already too late to tag along. They were headed to an Augustus base from a lead they got from Alex, who actually convinced the whole local militia to join his cause. He noted not to underestimate him despite the lack of limbs as that was his specialty back in the CIA.

Now, with enough time and approved Rest and Recreation, he can't believe they're driving to London. He didn't know how it happened but a few nudges and teases from France and they were actually driving his trusty jeep on their way to a local coffee shop she wanted to visit.

"You seem happy for someone who sits out in a fight." Soap commented as France's hair blew softly as the jeep sped across the empty highway.

"Well, I can't force myself out there, might as well enjoy the little freedom from the gunfire and chaos." she cheered, raising her hands openly like a tourist or someone from a music video. Soap rolled his eyes toward her behavior but when he thinks of it, he might use some relaxation himself.

"So, we're really driving to London for coffee? We could've just brewed some back at the base, you know?" he informed, eyes turning to the road.

"Oh come on Soap! Live a little! It's the relaxing background I'm looking for, the one that yells "Rest up Francine and shoot tangos later!"" she teased, Soap was still not convinced about this, he's all too focused on work, living up to the 'elite' part of the task force.

Soap continued driving and couldn't help but momentarily turn to her, how she shook her head when her hair got in the way, how she giggled at the bumps on the road and how she badgered him with a lot of questions. All of those things he seemed to like. She even told him to slow down so she could take pictures of the view and show them to Maxine when she finally remembers her, along with a few selfies with Soap.

"So, Soap, this is your vacation? On your phone with a cup of coffee?" France crossed her arms as she sat in front of Soap. The Scottish looked at him, brows raised.

"Don't call me Soap out here. And I'm actually checking German news channels." he informed while not batting an eye on her.

"Really, what should I call you then, Dove?" She joked, while Soap remained unamused.

"John." he muttered.

"Really?! You don't really look like a John. Maybe... a James.. James MacTavish? Sounds better." she mused as she looked at the problematic mohawk man as he keeped raising his phone looking for a signal.

"Hey check your phone. Do you have reception or something?" Soap finally looked at her and turned to the direction she's looking at. A young woman was raising her phone just outside the cafe.

"What is she doing?" France pointed out and Soap was rendered speechless. Moments later the phone exploded into an EMP blast shattering the café windows causing the two to cover under the tables.

"Shite." John muttered and looked at France who was inches near him. France's hands were covering her ears as the ringing continued.

"Come on! Let's leave here before our ears bleed!" Soap roared, enduring the pain of the ringing as he pulled France to safety. People scattered around looking for a spot to stay which was just a few yards away from the phone. Everyone stood still and murmured as the person holding the phone crippled in pain from the said blast.

Francine forced herself off of John's strong grip and winced as she reached the blast zone, enduring the mental pain as she tried to rescue her. John took a while before he helped her up as his ears started to bleed from the ringing. Halfway through safety the phone exploded and the screeching stopped.

911 immediately responded assisting the three of them as well as those who suffered from injuries because of the blast. While being tended from behind the ambulance, a tall red-headed lady with a slick leather jacket introduced herself to them, flashing her INTERPOL badge.

"Hi. I'm sorry you got caught on the crossfire." she apologized, her tone was strict yet calming.

"Aye. It's alright ma'am. We're kinda used to it." John chuckled and Francine nodded.

"This is kind of my case. Can I ask you for details surrounding the event that just happened?" she blindly fished her notebook and pen from her back pocket and the duo honestly told their story.

"Oh. Thank you very much. um Mr and Mrs…?"

the two of them looked at each other.

"Oh no no no. You've got it all wrong maam!" Francine quickly interrupted.

"Aye. There's no way I'd ask this woman out." John added causing them to argue and bicker like old people.

"Okay Okay. I'll address this differently. You two don't have to fight, okay?" she scolded as she answered her already ringing phone.

The sun was already setting when they drove back to the base. The ride was cold and quiet and the two of them didn't say a word after they bickered back at the city. Soap momentarily checks in on her while driving but France just crossed her arms and blasted music through her earphones.

John tried to talk to her about it but he hesitated, her body language was enough to tell him that she didn't need any bothering from him today, or maybe ever. So instead of saying words, he quickly turned to a small path just before the Base's entrance and drove seriously.

"Hey hey hey Mister, where are you bringing me?!" She motioned to eject herself from the car by detaching herself from the seatbelts.

"Oi Oi! Calm down. I just thought you needed a breather." he hit the brakes. They were at a small elevated area just below the river that ran behind their base. Francine slowly calmed herself down enjoying the beautiful view as John exited his jeep and walked to a tree stump.

He sat down and faced the river, the moon illuminated his hair and half of his face while France slowly descended from her seat and looked at his blue eye glow as the moonlight hit his face.

"Cigars aren't allowed at the base. And we're still technically outside." he winked and offered her a light, a sneaky smirk escaped from his perfectly shaped mouth.

Francine gulped.

"I don't smoke. Thanks." she gestured a no at the Scot and slowly walked toward him as soon as he turned back.

"Mmhmm.. Suit yourself." he teased as he huffed the cigar and released smoke from his mouth, pouting his lips and looked up at the sky. Francine fell quiet, but she could hear her heart thumping, telling her to say the words she wanted to say the moment they met. But she hesitated, there's no time for admiration in the middle of war. She inhaled deeply and sighed.

"This view looks spectacular." she mused, John just chuckled and puffed another breath of smoke.

"What's with you women and beautiful landscapes? Sometimes I don't get it. Like, it's just water and the sky." he complained. Francine smiled telling herself that it's a different view she was referring to.

'The spectacular view I'm referring to is you, John MacTavish.' she smiled and told herself.

Task Force 141 Base - Lobby

Soap and France just got back inside the base and Shepherd was already looking for them. Word has it that their involvement from events that occurred earlier today alerted the General and called them into briefing.

"Agent Ryder, I believe you've already acquainted yourself with these two members of the force?" Shepherd introduced.

"Yes. It's Mr. MacTavish and Ms. Winters." the redhead nodded to them as a greeting.

"Good." The general seated himself and let the Agent begin talking.

"The case earlier was that of a Jane Doe, an American who used her phone to create a long lasting EMP blast capable of destroying nearby signal receptors at a set range. Coincidentally, one of your members also reported a bigger machine capable of doing bigger blasts back in Germany. While this may be purely coincidental, the interpol assigned me to further investigate this phenomenon as part of my job as Anti-Terror Weapon Division." she briefed, Shepherd had already talked to his higher ups and they already assigned her as part of a joint operation.

"Furthermore, Our team wants to quickly eradicate traces of such weapons in order to restore peace and order across Europe." she added. Soap nodded in agreement, he was one of the few ones who witnessed the weapon's power and would like to take part in destroying such machinery.

"Well Ms. Ryder. We have already discussed this. Welcome to the 141. These two will escort you around, make sure you feel comfortable and well fed with all the data you need." he muttered and shook hands with her. She nodded and thanked him as Soap and France gave her a quick tour of the base.

The tour consisted of mostly France talking, she actually got close with Agent Ryder quickly, and Soap was just there following like a dog. And he hates dogs.

"It's good to have someone like you in a place full of men. It eases off the pressure." the Agent thanked her as they dropped her off her quarters. France smiled and held her hand.

"Don't worry. These men may look tough, but then you get to know them, they're actually sweeter than us. Right, Soap?" she turned to him.

"What are you talking about?" he easily dismissed rolling his eyes, looking everywhere but their direction.

"See?!" France giggled and Agent Ryder laughed along.

"It's a pleasure to be part of this team. Call me Alexandra. Alexandra Ryder." She said.

"Welcome to the 141, Alexandra." France shook hers and smiled. It may feel like a simple handshake but Soap felt that it was going to be an alliance that's going to last for a long time.

Next Chapter : A surPRICE Visit

Notification Squad, my beloved

@samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @enderio @whimsywispsblog @ricinbach @beemybee

#horRAYfic #codmw #john soap mactavish #john price #gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #alex echo 3 1 #ah yes denial #my favorite trope

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thejosh1980 · 3 years

Text

Little Wing

(Trigger warning: animal/pet death)

Today, right now, I am sat at the spot where Mijo felt his last sunrise, just 24 hours ago.

He was 28 weeks old, he spent 20 of those weeks with me, and my family. He was my family. He was thrust upon me by my wife and mum, who knew Mijo would be the kind of birthday present I'd want, but could never ask for.

When he arrived he was unexpected. Straight from the car, into my bedroom, onto my lap, what a surprise, it was love at first sight. Those eyes, that tail, that round belly, the fur, I was all in. I had to say goodbye to 4 beautiful pets whom I loved dearly when I left Germany, so then and there I made a quiet, whisper promise to Mijo;

“I'll never ever leave you”...

We began like any other Daddy and cat story, playing, eating, talking to each other. We may have made a few messes on the bed learning to potty train, but I couldn't really fault him, he was perfect. He loved cuddles, got under our feet all the time, talked to us a lot and wanted to be a part of everything happening around the house.

He meowed very loudly too. Sometimes he'd meow from the next room sounding lost and worried. That's when I started to realized something was very different about him. It took about 2 weeks, but then I realized, he was totally deaf!!!! No vacuum cleaner, loud bangs, claps, or door slams could get his attention. When he meowed loudly, it was either because he had to, to feel himself meowing in his head, or he was missing us and could smell us, but not hear us in the next room. I had never had a cat who couldn't hear me call their name, so this was going to be a challenge.

Mijo accepted that challenge...

In a short time I figured out how to clicker train him, using a torch. I love training cats. Most folks think it's impossible, but I've taught cats to fetch, sit and come on command in the past.... So, pretty soon I had him jumping up, over and across chairs and tables on cue. I also learnt a way to “call” him; assuming he could see me, if I knelt down and tapped my leg, he'd come a running. Every time. We had it all figured out.

Grab a harness and a lead, and off we go, walking around the garden. This wasn't a cat, this was a dog. He had very little fear, I mean, he couldn't even hear the birds making a racket or the car driving by or the dog barking next door. He was fixated on me.

I bought him a blow up boat, to use in the pool, to help him get used to floating on water. It was a huge boat for his little size, but he'd hop in, and I'd “treat” him while he got used to the motion. The plan was to build him up to a real boat, or canoe or SUP. I could imagine him walking on water.

He was also great with other cats, so I could take him to visit his cousin and they'd play all day (if we'd let them). He'd come with me to visit other family and then... well, then the real adventures started. Mijo and I could go to the river, the park and the beach. We also went for coffee at the busiest part in the local village, and he took it all in his stride. We took bike rides too, as he sat in a special backpack I had for him. I could hold him while skateboarding or put him on my shoulder as I walked around. He was chill, happy to see and smell his silent world.

When Alex or I came home, and he'd be in the bedroom snoozing or gazing out the window, we could come in, take off our shoes, put our stuff down, maybe run to the loo, then we could snuggle up with him, cause he hadn't heard us arrive. He would just be waiting... He'd just wait for someone to step close enough, blow on his ear, feel a vibration and then he'd meow a big BIG hello, purr and snuggle. He was a no pressure cat... But always ready for hugs and pats.

Besides being deaf, he just didn't seem like any other cat I'd had or even met...

But isn't the way it is with all pets? They're all unique.

He loved Alex. He always had a hard decision between my lap and hers, or sleeping close to one or the other. We had a son to take care of, to love and to enjoy. At the beginning, Alex wasn't sure about having a cat, she'd pretty much always been a dog person, but it didn't take long for Mijo to wrap her around his little paw. She was hooked.

We thought he was going to be grow up to become a big boy. You know, Maine Coon sized 5-6 or maybe 7 kilo. We had high hopes for a dog-like cat, big enough to take on the world. We wanted to show him the world too.

After he had his snip (desexing) in mid March, he wasn't very well, and it really traumatized all of us, we just weren't sure why he took it so badly. He was in a lot of pain, even though the operation itself was quick and really good, with no issues. He would spend the day, in his “bread loaf” position, with his nose to the ground. It was like he was conserving all his energy for when we came home or wanted his attention.

Eventually, after a few weeks he bounced back, back to being his usual self, for a while. He actually lost a lot of fur during this time, most likely due to a reaction to the antibiotics and pain killers. Where his collar and harness were, he lost all his hair. It only took a few days, a bit too quick to realize what was going on, he rarely wore the collar or harness after that. It meant we sometimes lost him in the house without his bell on to tell which room he was in, so I'd be running around turning on and off the lights to get his attention and a meow.

It was our fun game of “Mijo Polo”.

We had noticed he wasn't eating as much, and he wasn't as playful. In fact, all his toys were being ignored, and he rarely chased anything we teased him with. When we took him for playtime with his cousin, he wouldn't last as long play fighting. Something was up, we thought he'd bounce back by now.

Overall, he was a very chilled cat, having just had an operation and now with, ringworm, a tooth problem (one adult tooth was causing him problems and needed to be pulled) maybe that was why he wasn't too interested in food. Surely it wasn't bacteria, an infection or a virus in his blood.

In early May, Mijo developed ringworm, which, by the way, isn't a worm but rather a fungal infection. The vet already had us on anti fungal cream day and night. It's very unusual to get ringworm; it's all around us, but a strong immune system, actually, a decent immune system, would fight off any infection naturally. Cats generally just lick it all off their fur. Humans sometimes get it, from a scratch or a wound. It's in the soil, it's in the air.

When we got the treatment for the ringworm, we also gave him an appetite stimulant, to encourage him to eat, but it made little difference. As nothing changed, we went back to the vet a few days later, and did a hypothyroidism test; the results were borderline.

What could be going on?

At the time of his desexing operation, he was 1.7 kilos, a week later he was down to 1.5 and eventually 1.45 kilo. His body was growing a little, but his muscle and fat wasn't.

We talked to the vet and decided, even though his ringworm was infectious, the tooth had to go, sooner rather than later. It seemed logical that it was his biggest barrier to fulfilling his dietary requirements and his well being. We wanted him fattening up, growing up, and being his usual self again, ASAP. We needed to get him back on track towards good health, enough was enough.

On Monday 17th May I dropped the little guy off at the vet for the day. A check up and a tooth pull.

Before any cat gets an anesthetic, they run a simple blood test to determine if the cat is well enough. During the day we got a call that the operation couldn't happen, and that he'd have to stay in over night or longer, with meds to help him, because his red cell blood count was low. 10%. Most cats need around 40%, if there's any complication with the tooth pull, his blood may not clot.

It's official, he was very unwell.

I was at school when I got the news. I was in shock. Our little boy was that unwell? But he does eat (a little), he does walk on the lead with me, he's eating his treats... was he that unwell?

Suddenly we had to decide on some expensive tests to figure out what was wrong with him. I mean, the red blood cells were being eaten up by the white ones, but why?? We arranged the suggested tests and they kept him in over night.

I was very distraught. How can my little guy be so unwell yet behave well? With that blood count, he shouldn't be able to walk, he should be so lethargic that he can't keep his head up!! He should be in a coma.

All in all, theoretically, he should be dead.

So was it dwarfism, hypothyroidism, mycoplasma??? And and and?? Tests... Blood being taken.. Our boy in the vet over night, alone, worried, scared??? Will he make it through the night? I didn't sleep well...

On Tuesday afternoon the vet let us bring him home. His blood level was down to 9.1%. The idea was that, at least at home he'd have cuddles and love, and that might help his immune system. He was lethargic but not completely terrible. I would need to bring him in on Wednesday for another blood test, to see how he was doing.

On Wednesday, it didn't go well, Mijo had gone from 9 to 8.1% blood level. It was now becoming almost impossible to get any blood out of him. I saw how difficult it was 2 weeks earlier when he had the hypothyroid test, they had to try on both legs and his neck to get a half mil of blood! He was a champ and barely complained. But now, I couldn't imagine the pain he went through with even less blood.

He's been that sick for how long?? Why hadn't we noticed?

We were panicking.

The vet suggested we meet with a mature, more experienced doc, on Thursday. We should be able to figure something out, we had to. Each day = less blood = more chance of...

Well, I am a hopeful guy. I realize, I live on hope. I spent years hoping certain people in my life would change, or love me in a way that I feel some love. I always hope things will change for the better. I don't know why, but it's ingrained in me to feel hopelessness or hope... I think I'm never in the middle... or is that called acceptance? OK, maybe I do feel that too, eventually... But it takes a long long time...

I have videos of Mijo on Thursday 20th, he's cleaning himself in the sun, meowing and purring, happy to see me, walking around the garden with me. Full of life and adventure.

At lunch time, Mijo and I go to the vet. He is his usual cute self, always curious at the vets, and now there's a the new guy he's meeting, what an adventure.

Before he opens the cat box he said something along the lines of “Well, because his blood levels are so low, today is really about deciding if he goes to heaven or not...” I'm not sure, but I know I heard words like “heaven” and “euthanasia” early on in the consultation. Shock was setting in. I barely heard anything else he said, luckily we had Alex on the speaker phone.

Turns out, not only is our little guy deaf, he's an anomaly.

Any cat with 8.1% should be comatose. They should barely be able to walk. They certainly can't pee or poo without help and don't drink or eat much. Mijo came out of his box and sniffed around, was alert and ready to meet the new guy!!

The vet was stumped. He had never seen this before, in over 30 years...

We didn't know he was so sick, because, he was, overall, a well behaved cat. His weight he lost, sure, but he was now at least stable. He was eating, it just took a lot of creativity sometimes to spark his interest (mostly warming up meals and giving him treats).

The vet tried to explain to me, but I'm sure Alex on the phone understood it clearly, that we had very little time, well, no time. We had 3 choices that day. Go to a specialist an hour's drive away, give Mijo steroids and hope he had mycoplasma or Immune mediated hemolytic anemia (IMHA) or, lastly, euthanasia.

Wait???? What does that even mean??

The specialist would give him a blood transfusion, and some special custom drugs which should help him. The vet said it could cost in the 10s of thousands, and may help Mijo for a few weeks, but it's not a solution that we are sure would be long term or not.

Giving Mijo steroids would give him a fighting chance, or not... Basically it could cure or kill him. Because we aren't sure what is the cause of the low blood count, it could be IMHA, mycoplasma or something else, but it's a best educated guess at this rate. If it is the wrong choice, he may die quicker than expected.

Euthanasia, no explanation needed.

We decided on steroids. According to the vet, there was a 50/50 chance it would work. If the cause of the blood cells killing off each other was for or against steroids, we'd know soon enough. Still shocked I tried to understand it all. I'm so grateful Alex was on the line and knows this stuff through experience and study.

The idea of taking Mijo an hour's drive north to the specialist, to a cubicle, a place where we may not be with him 24/7, on the off chance that he wouldn't make it and die alone, we couldn't fathom that.

Mijo took the steroid injection like a champ, he always did injections well. He was given some antibiotics to also help. The vet said, that by Saturday we'll know if it was the right decision. We'd know if he would be getting better...

It was decided that on Monday 24th we'd go back in for a blood test to actually see if the steroids were working (cause apparently one can't really tell with Mijo's behavior, the cheeky monkey).

Mijo and I came home, and well, he ate, he was purring, sitting on my lap. The usual deal. When I went out to get the washing in, he tried to go out too, something we, as parents, have been very protective about. He doesn't go out alone, he doesn't go out without a lead or a bell. He's not an easy cat to find if he runs off, not that he has ever tried. He deaf, he can't hear cars or other dangers out there.

I promised him I'd take him out to that side of the house/garden that afternoon...

So we did, we went out, we sat down, he explored. He was well, good, better, best. He was my boy. He trusted me, I trusted him. I'm always amazed how well he walks by my side, like a dog, with loose leash... Taking my steps as cues when to walk, and when to stop.

We also met the neighbor's dog, which was a first, both were not really interested in each other... But still, Mijo knew there's a lot to live for...

Overnight he went great... Woke up with him on my chest relaxing waiting for me to get up and feed him, luckily I have a wife who had to get up for work at that moment. I remember she sang him a lullaby and held him like a baby. It was really sweet to see how much love they had for each other. Rock-a-bye Mijo...

We wanted to him feel as much love as we could. We felt that, if the steroids and antibiotics were doing their part, and we did ours, there's nothing he can't beat. And he sure felt the love...

I held him while doing some singing exercises, close to my chest. It was something we hadn't done before, and he purred. He'd look up and meow every time I stopped making vibrations. He felt it, I felt it, it was a connection.

We spent a lot of time, reading, relaxing and sitting on laps. Alex and I cuddled him, told him we loved him. He was really fighting. He was eating. He was a little more playful than in recent weeks. He wanted to live. We could feel it...

He went from eating half a packet to 1.5 packets a day, plus dry food. He always wanted treats, and I was always glad to oblige.

By Saturday he was wonder cat! Kneading... Purring... Chasing toys... Eager to hang out...

We'd overcome the problem! He was getting better. There's fight, love and life left in him. He was amazing. If it hadn't been for his ringworm (which was also healing very very well) I'd say he was perfect, especially once he put on another few grams...

We had 4 awesome days, loads of energy and love. He was never alone in the house, and rarely alone in a room. We wanted him to know, to feel, that we loved him so deeply and that all we want was him in our life, for adventures and cuddles.

On Monday morning, his appetite went down... He didn't really eat much...

We all left for the day, work and school. I think we were all worried, but he'd been so good and improved so so much, that we were sure he'd be fine. We have the blood test booked for the afternoon, I'm sure he'll pep up by then. The injection could be wearing off too...

Mijo and I went in to the vet, and his test came back at 14%!!! Damn, that's 6 points!! The vet expected 3 to be a big improvement. In fact, if he had 3 or less, euthanasia may have been the only option... Happy days! He was well. He's going to live! He'll be fine.

We're not out of the woods yet, but we are in the right direction.

All that love we lavished on him, not just in the past days, but the past 4 months. The adventures, the friends he'd made (both human and animal) the smells and sights he'd seen, the vibrations he felt, it was all coming together... He was a fighter with a lot of love to give...

We were over joyed. Really, I couldn't have been happier when I got the results. I gave a “whoop” and threw my fist in the air (I've never done that before in my life!).

We changed to tablet form steroids, as they'll be better long term, keep up the antibiotics and off we go...

But we all know, that often people and animals, when they know they are dying, they give it one last shot. And that was it... We didn't realize until Wednesday, that he wasn't actually going to get better...

Mijo stopped grooming himself, he slowly ate less and less... He became more and more lethargic, he started to sit in the “bread loaf” position with his nose on the ground, as he did after the snip, resting. We thought it was the change in steroids, and as I was at school and the girls at work, we just kept thinking he'd pep up eventually.

When I left for school Wednesday morning, he was alert, but lethargic. When I came home early to check on him, he had really changed again.

His belly was a little bloated, but he had hardly eaten. He had trouble walking, it seemed like it was a mix of muscle degradation/pain and confusion. His meowing changed to a high pitch cry, similar to that of a young kitten. He also stopped eating, he wouldn't even touch any of his tasty treats. He searched for any bit of sun to stand in, but he was looking so uncomfortable, his posture had changed, half sitting, half standing. I was grateful, when I carried him to his water bowl, that he drank a lot. He also went to the toilet, I held his tail so he didn't make a mess on himself.

We spent the afternoon outside, as the sun started to set. He loved the sun, I wanted him to feel warmth... I held him, talked to him. I don't know now many times I asked him to please hold on, please fight and that I loved him. He looked more comfortable in the sun.

I did film us walking around the pool. I am forever grateful for technology, so that I could just put my phone down, touch a button and record a moment. As we walked and talked, oblivious to the camera, I recognized a change in his breathing... I may have missed it previously, but for sure, his breath was becoming more and more labored. Every 3 or 4 breaths, he just had to try harder... His eyes were changing too... But I was sure he could recognize me, the way the vibrations from my chest reached his body and the way I smell. He would react from time to time, shifting or clawing at me.

He often touched my chest with his paw. Reaching out...

Mum and I went to the vet late Wednesday afternoon, the earliest we could. I explained it must be the change of steroids. No, it wasn't. They were the same type, it was just that he wasn't able to fight anymore. We discussed the specialist, called them and made a plan to go in first thing in the morning. I arranged for a friend to come with me, and Thursday morning bright and early, we were going up to get Mijo cured. Transfusion, drugs, you name it, we were going to do it. We had to, we told him we'd make him better.

There and then, Alex and I decided to trade in our honeymoon, you know from the wedding we had 13 months ago and still haven't done the traditional thing of a week or two away somewhere. We decided the money we had aside for that, would go to Mijo's specialist costs, because without Mijo, our honeymoon, whatever and whenever we decide to do it, wouldn't be worth doing, if he wasn't around.

I made a firm plan on how to help him through the night. We would hold him in shifts... All 3 of us... If one showered, the other held him. Dinner time, we shared the responsibility, not that we ate much anyhow. We cuddled, we talked, we purred, I would blow gently on his head... He was feeling love and he was fighting...

Because he hadn't eaten all day, we decided to try feeding him with a syringe, with success. With the tablets we were putting into his stomach, I felt he needed something else down there too... With a small syringe, he took it well, lapping up a tasty liquid treat.

When it was bed time, we put pillows around the bed, incase he fell, because he was very wobbly on his feet. He would cry out at random times, possibly from pain, but I think more from confusion. He sometimes wanted to get away from us, as we know, pets know when it's time and usually disappear, isolate.

We barely slept. I managed about 3 hours... But it was tough.. He wouldn't stay still, and eventually we put him in his little bed, near our bed... Of course he didn't stay there long.

At 4am I heard him crying... I found him under the bed... Alex woke up too... His breathing had changed a lot... Every breath was labored. He wasn't getting enough oxygen.

I laid on my back, and Mijo laid on my chest. This was how it often was, especially when I was reading... We did that until around 7am... Alex taking turns, holding him, talking to him, loving him. Mijo could barely hold himself up, he just laid in our arms... Breathing... His eyes began to glaze over...

We discussed our options, we felt the specialist was now a long shot. We didn't think he'd make the drive, he was near the end. Our little man had little fight left... And we wouldn't forgive ourselves for him dying in a foreign place. There were a lot of tears and back and forwards, including mum coming in for cuddles with the little guy at 5am...

Alex called the emergency vet, and we planned to go in at 8:30... Mijo's time had come...

When the sun comes up, if the blind is open in our bedroom, the sun shines right on through to Alex in bed, Mijo was in her arms, while she drank coffee as the sun rose.

Sometime later I took the little guy out to the pool, where we walked and talked, cuddled and loved, around and around, in the morning sun. I talked to him about all the adventures we had, riding bikes, visiting people, the beach and the river. I spent most of that hour, holding him, looking to his eyes... He gazed up, I just hope he knew it was me. I just knew he felt the vibrations of my words.

We both told him, it was OK to let go now. We were ready. But he kept on fighting for each breath... I think he was just like his Dad, always hopeful..

He last moments at home, where in the chair I'm sat in now. It gets the best light, first thing, even though it's inside the “catio”. Alex had sat down while I was walking outside, I seem to do better when I walk, and I brought him in for cuddles with her in the sun... He was bathed in sunshine, in Alex's arms... It was beautiful...

Actually getting in the car and going to the vet, was tough, but it really hit me when I walked in. I held the little guy, and just burst into middle-aged-man tears and sobbing... If you were there, you'd know I was my mother's son, cause she was sobbing too... I couldn't look anyone in the eye... I didn't understand what was going on, or about to go on...

I think I was in another place...

We went into a consult room, and I just laid the little guy down, not thinking of using the blanket we had... The vet explained the procedure and took him away for his catheter and first injection, some anesthetic? I don't know, but apparently it was the right thing, it helped with his pain.

I couldn't even look Alex or Mum in the eye... I just cried...

I still had hope...

When they came back, Mijo was wrapped in a soft blanket, what a great idea...!! He was quieter, more peaceful... The vet left to give us a moment...

He was still breathing, still fighting... I put my ear to his face, and heard him...

I kept making sure his eye lids closed from time to time. I remember back when Catalina, my little girl in Germany, needed to be anesthetized for a check up. The vet put some put liquid drops in her eyes and made her blink, so her eyes didn't dry out... So for Mijo, I did that every once in a while... I didn't want his eyes to dry up... I wanted him to be able to see me, because laying on that table, he couldn't hear me.

I begged Alex not to bring the vet back in for the final injection... I think I may have screamed something at her... I don't know... I wasn't me... I was trying to hold him in my arms, without moving him... I was trying to give him another chance...

I bawled...

I don't know if I have ever cried like that before... I thought I'd be all cried out... I thought all my tears had already left the building the previous hours and days... But there was more... a lot more... and more to come...

I know that Alex and I held hands over his body... I felt the love... I felt his warmth... his breathing... I know I cried tears onto him, there were tear drops on his lips...

I looked him in the eye as much as I could, but mostly, I cried...

I felt the liquid go into him, I felt it go around my hand into him...

I don't know much about what happened after that... I know I didn't want to leave him, I had promised him I would never do it. I regret not holding him once more... I know that at that moment, I felt the life drain out of me... I felt hope die...

I walked out, not knowing what to do, and flopped down on the grass outside... I never sit on grass, but Mijo liked it...

I managed to drive home...

That was yesterday...

Since then I've tried to rest, tried to come to grips with what has happened, tried to connect with a few friends, I've tried... I'm still trying...

This morning I got up wanting to do some sport, washing, then study and take on the day with confidence... It's a new day, I should take that opportunity to get back into my routine... It took all of 1 minute, from bed to bathroom, to be bawling... Except for the time I manage to calm down enough to type this blog, I've been crying... It's now 10am... I was awake at 6:15...

We are running out of tissues..

I felt so bad this morning, I wanted to plead with Alex not to go to work, because I just can't today. I just can't. We have discussed how she copes in these situations, and I know that's how she copes, by going to work, so I kept my trap shut. I just want her to hug me all day, so I can feel her warmth.

I cried so much on the drive to drop mum off at work this morning, she started crying too, and contemplated not going to work... She wanted to be there for me, but I told her, honestly, I don't think I'd be much company today.

I don't know the grieving process, we haven't learnt that in counseling school yet, but I do know, I'm feeling very lost... I feel very numb...

I can't explain it, and maybe that's why folks can never really explain how they feel after someone close to them, or their pet, has passed. We are just lost.

I also feel that I am grieving for my other losses in my life. It's a bit like, it's a culmination of all the others before him, plus him on top, making me feel pain like I have never experienced before.

Grief is just love, with no place to go... Alex and I talked about that quote last night. I used this quote to help me through leaving my 4 pets in Germany, I know I have to find a new place for my love, but for now, I just can't.

I know I couldn't have gotten through this without the support of my Mum and Alex...

While Mum cries at the drop of a hat, she is solid and thoughtful and loving. Alex is strong and experienced in these matters. She knew what to say, and when, even if I did yell back… Both have a lot of time and patience for me.

I know Alex and Mum feel bad, maybe even guilty, for choosing him. Mijo was a present, to give me joy and love and comfort. And he sure did, in multitudes, to all of us. I would never have gotten a cat back then, I didn't feel Alex or I were ready, we were still working through our issues with our pets in Germany.

Alex and I decided that we want Mijo home with us. He was only on this earth for 6.5 months, we expected him to be with us for 10+ years. Taken too early. Once he's cremated we'll have him in a little urn. He was so small, but if there's a little left over, we will either plant a tree with his ashes or sprinkle him down by the river, the first place he went to that was close to water.

The past day or so, I have shared what happened with some friends, classmates and family, and everyone has been so thoughtful and caring. Thank you, it's really helped to know you're all out there, thinking of the little guy. He would have loved to meet you all.

He was perfection. If someone else had gotten him, realized he was deaf, they may not have given him the adventures and life he had. Mum considers him a rescue cat...

So here I am, in the chair, his last chair in his last moments at home.

I can still smell him on my shirt. When I walk around the house, dazed, I sniff my shirt. He had a wonderful smell. The smell of love and adventure. I hope that smell lasts a life time.

I miss his warmth, his meow, which was damn loud!! I miss, that sometimes he'd get lost around the house... Or he'd lose me, around the house. He was gentle, and only bit me once, by accident, piercing my thumb a little. I miss the fact he had 1 tooth growing forward, directly out, making him a tri-toothed kitten with a protruding top lip! He took on the world without fear. I've never experienced anything like it in a cat. My girl Catalina did sit on my shoulder as I walked down the street in Germany, but Mijo, he let me go skateboarding with him, played guitar with me (he'd chew the strings) and one time, I even vacuumed his tail.

All trust. No fear.

Back when he lost all his hair around his neck and stomach after his snip operation, we were pretty concerned. Funnily enough, it grew back pretty quickly, but it grew back white, not grey. He had a ring around his neck and kind of marks on his back wrapping around to his belly. Alex googled it, and actually found out, cats can often have their hair grow back white after trauma or experiencing extremes of temperature if their hair was cut short or fell out.

About a month ago, I sent my dearest of friends, Sandra, a photo of his regrowth, and she commented looks like “little angel wings”...

Fly on little wing, fly on...

RIP Mijo Angus

12-11-2020 – 27-05-2021

Thanks for reading,

Josh

#pet #pet love #pet death #sad story #loss #griefandloss

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guigz1-coldwar · 3 years

Text

'Welcome to East-Berlin' : New chapter for "Always for the greater cause..." is out !

Chapter Summary : Important reminders are made to the others by 'Wraith' a few hours before the arrival of 'Stitch' & Bell at the Perseus hideout in East-Berlin

To read it on AO3, click here!

Taglist : @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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20th February 1981

Roman 'Knight' Gary, Ex-MI6, Perseus

Perseus safehouse 'D8' in East-Berlin, East Germany

Another fucking day to start and since days, we've been asked to standby in the safehouse of East-Berlin, awaiting for Stitch to arrive with the 'sleeping beauty' before we could start our real work to put some lovely chaos & destruction against the West but for now, the only thing I could do was to walk all around the safehouse and maintain my guns & explosives at my workplace while having to take care of Bellamy with me around.

The guy was nice to talk to but always a bit stubborn than me, not wanting to have a very long discussion with him and hopefully, there were Wraith here despite that she wasn't here all day, having to make some talks with some of our agents in town for further operations for us and that's a good thing but nonetheless...I'm still alone in that safe house that was more like a warehouse to me with Bellamy...I hope that we got to work soon.

To make me pass the time until Wraith come back to the place, I decided to take some training on the punching ball that was near my workplace, one of my ideas for having a better place to work in, and it was helping me unleash my patience onto something that wasn't an agent from the West, my desk, the walls and of course...Bellamy.

"Still training with that thing, big guy?" Bellamy comes inside the main room, just behind me with his usual joking voice.

"Are you saying this to me, little guy?" I scoffed back to him, looking around as a joke, making him that he wasn't speaking to me before looking at him, seeing him dressed in the same clothes from yesterday. "Why are you always wearing the same clothes? You didn't bring that with you?" I asked in a half-serious voice to him.

"What? I like those clothes," He replied, looking down at the black clothes he got on him. "What about you? You always got the same shirt with our emblem in big?" He remarked as I was always wearing the same black shirt with the emblem of our organization. "What a nice way to be discreet..." He muttered, going to lean on my own workplace, a smile on his face.

"You're joking, I'm always taking a vest with me to hide, not like you with your necklace," I commented, gesturing to him what he was having around his neck, "Even when you're out, you're taking it with you, not hiding it at all, that's something to make us spotted," I added to him, pointing his necklace.

"As I said, I like it and you, don't judge me when you're doing the same," He told me, shaking his head down while crossing his arms. "It's not me that I have a combat outfit where our emblem is in big & white on the front," He stated, taking a look behind him, knowing my spec-ops outfit was on my workplace.

"And what? That's not the same thing!" I implied, already feeling inside of me the urge to get back to training before Bellamy become my punching ball for good. I started to return into a fighting position, giving some punches to the ball like if it was someone: strike to the middle, on the sides, and some knee kicks.

"That's not how we have to fight, Roman." Bellamy sighed, still on my desk, making me roll my eyes to hear him judging me over my fighting style.

"Yeah, that's how I learned back before I joined to work with the British dogs," I commented before I turned around, seeing him still leaned on my desk, looking at me like if he was a teacher to me but he wasn't...just someone that wanted to be punch. "You know what? Make yourself useful and hold that punching ball for me," I advised him in a good voice.

"As you wish, Roman." He mumbled, moving away from my desk to walk next to me and to get on the other side of the punching ball, starting to hold it with his hands on the side of it. "Come on, show me how the Irish fight!" He teased towards me as I was preparing my right hand, clenching it and, putting a lot of my strength in it.

"Here's how I fight!" I taunted him in a clear voice before striking the punching ball with all my might with my right fist. That punch was this powerful from me that Bellamy was like projected away from the punching ball, removing his hands off it and almost flying on his back 2 meters behind him. "That's how the Irish fight, Bellamy...and for you, it's 'Knight'!" I make him remember well of that, Roman is only for friends.

I had him exactly where I wanted: just behind the punching ball, hitting him with it right on his face and that whole situation was funny for me, the man judging how I was fighting and speaking with jokes towards my nationality...I showed him a perfect Irish punch but it was however bad for me....because I would have like to punch him directly in his perfect teeth than the punching ball. As I moved away to see him on the ground, holding his face, the side door of the safe house opened, revealing Wraith herself, holding a black bag around her waist.

"Did I step in during the wrong time?" She asked curiously, walking inside as her eyes were on Bellamy on the ground.

"No, Bellamy didn't...train me well," I replied to her before moving to get Bellamy back on his feet. "Don't try again, little guy," I warned him discreetly near his left ear.

"Just get off me," He said, hitting my hand to get it off him, going to walk away from me, maybe fearing that an actual punching could come from me to his face.

"I hope you two will stop your arguments for the next few days, I've got the news," She revealed, getting our attention on her, both curious to what she could say to us. "Stitch called: Bell is awake and they're both arriving today," She announced in a normal voice, making my eyes go wide as it was like a liberation to me to hear that.

"Wait, you're telling that the 'sleeping beauty' is finally awake?" I chuckled and she nodded to me.

"Her & Stitch will arrive in the evening here so you two have to be reminded of things with her," She told us as she walked to the desk she was using to put the bag on it before turning around to look at me & Bellamy. "As you know, she's surely going to ask questions about her past and for that, you will have to make her think of something else than this," She started, opening the bag and taking out some things that were looking like reports & files. "Bellamy, you know your role, right?"

"Yeap, had to play the guy who knows her for years now since Rebirth Island," Bellamy recited, sounding annoyed to tell that as I remember that he wasn't so willing to play that role but he's doing it anyway, allowing me to breath freely. "Is this very obligated to do that?" He asked her.

"Yes, it is, Bellamy!" She raised her voice against him, the tone of it sounding like something that could freeze the blood of the weak. "I didn't brainwash her along with Stitch just to have someone that will not play his role perfectly," She added, angry in her voice. "So, yes, it's obligated,"

"Okay, okay, I understand," Bellamy sniffed, hands on his waist and looking down at his feet in defeat.

"Good, what we did is necessary and you know well of it because you helped us doing that," Wraith clarified to Bellamy, me remembering that he did work with her & Stitch to do their things with the 'sleeping beauty'. "Now, the only thing to do is to wait for their arrival, and you two need to stay for that," She reminded us, sitting on her chair and putting a headset over her ears.

"You heard her? Get lost, kid!" I ordered Bellamy in a serious voice before I walked back to my workplace and sitting on my own chair. I then start to put my hands behind my head and looking up at the ceiling, a smile forming on my face...

"Ah...the chaos is soon going to begin!"

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20th February 1981

Yirina 'Bell' Grigoriev, Ex-KGB, Perseus

Arriving at the Perseus safehouse 'D8' in East-Berlin, East Germany

The travel after we left Solovetsly an hour after I woke up was very long to live, having to switch between means of transports: cars, trucks and then, a plane that was going to send us straight right to East-Berlin. It was long as Stitch wasn't so willing to talk of things with me until we arrived at our destination and that also, he used the travel to get some rest, leaving me alone to think and nobody to talk.

Thankfully, after hours, we arrived in the city and we didn't have to wait too long that we were already on our way to join the hideout that we were going to use for Stitch's operations, having talked about it very briefly back in Russia and as I feared, it was the same thing for the driving, Stitch telling me not stress too much about the mission until I got my feet inside the safehouse and only 5 minutes after we left the clandestine runway in the East-German countryside, we were at our destination...finally.

"This is the place?" I asked Stitch as he stopped the car, near an old-looking warehouse, located in the surroundings of the city.

"This is where our operations will be organized," He replied before he removed the car's keys from the lock of the steering wheel. "And finally, you're able to ask about the operations we're going to do once we're inside," He reassured, seeing a smile forming through his mask and tapping me on my shoulder before he opened his door, making the same at my side.

"Let's go, then..." I thought to myself, going out of the car and taking a look around as Stitch was taking a black bag out of the backseat of the car before we could start to walk into the direction of the warehouse, first seeing a woman standing in front of a closed garage door, leaning against it and a bag near her.

"Bell, welcome to East-Berlin," Stitch greeted me, taking a quick look around before having his eye on me. "We have a job to do." He told me in a clear voice and I nodded to him instantly, hearing like echoes in my ears as we continued to walk to the garage door where the woman knocked two times on it, causing the door to get opened. "Wraith."

"Stitch." The woman spoke up, nodding at him as Stitch took the bag that was near her. "Bell," She said to me with a smile on her face before we could enter the safehouse that was looking like I thought, like an old warehouse with modern tech inside of it along with desks and comfort...Perseus safehouses...I was staying behind the two as they moved towards a desk where the two put the bags on before Stitch walks next to a dashboard filled with a lot of pictures & files.

"Everyone, gather up," Stitch said loudly, gesturing with his right hand to assemble near him, staying away at a few meters from them as I could see Bellamy & another guy that I couldn't recognize, having a long beard and black shirt with a Perseus emblem on it. "Now that we're all here, we can finally start our work against the West,"

"It's about time," The man with the beard expressed his joy about it, making me laugh silently.

"I know, Knight, we had to be patient but since Bell is here, we can start to work," Stitch exclaimed, looking at me before he turned around to look at the dashboard. "As you all know, we have a chance to show the world our power, and that chance...is called 'Greenlight'" He started, with me taking a few steps in front of me to have a closer look at the dashboard. "The CIA has put some of their nuclear bombs under the main European cities, claiming to use them for counter a Soviet attack on the West,"

"They always make things easy for us," Bellamy remarked, crossing his arms as he looked at me with a smile, winking at me...been a long time that I didn't see him.

"Of course and with that, we're going to detonate those bombs and we will put the blame on them, allowing our 'Greater Russia' to be reborn," Stitch added, turning around to face us all again. "But as we all thought, we're here to make sure that 'Greenlight' gets into our hands and it will be hard for us but it will be worth it," He continued, mixing between looking at each one of us, "And...unfortunately, we only had one strong leader to start with," He looked at Wraith who grabbed in her hands, a file...with some blood on it.

"This file was recovered 13 years ago and it can help us to know more but it's encrypted, even our best cryptographers didn't manage to crack it," She explained to us, showing the file in her hands before she had her eyes on me.

"I know that you want to try to crack the code of this file but to make your task easier, me, you & Bellamy had to revisit what happened back in Rebirth Island," Stitch said to me as Wraith was putting the file down on the desk they both put the bags on earlier

"Rebirth? You're asking a bit much, Stitch," Bellamy commented to him as Knight was having his eyes on him...not so friendly by the look of it. "But, yeah, if we had to talk about it, okay..." He snorted, having exchanged glances with Knight, seeing him take a few steps on his side.

"Good, I'm finished, for now, Knight & the others, you can go back to work, Bell, I need to talk to you," Stitch directed, causing everyone to split up and to return to where they were working on their desk while I was walking to approach Stitch. "I know that you want to talk with the others but I think that we should start directly to remember what happened in 1968,"

"Are you sure? It isn't something you were willing to talk about before and like that, you changed your mind?" I asked him curiously, memories of my head telling me that Stitch was always rebuffing to talk about these days

"Yes but there's something I didn't tell you," He snorted, removing his hood to scratch the back of his head before he looks at a specific place on the dashboard. "Russell Adler is back and he's pulling out a team to stop us," He pointed out a picture of Adler, seeing the man with scars on his jaw, my eyes wide like if I saw a ghost in front of me

"Shit," I whispered by hearing this and looking at the picture.

"He's one of our objectives: I want him to suffer like me, you & Bellamy did in 1968, his capture is a priority," He declared to me, putting his hand on my back to make me look away from the dashboard, walking back next to his desk. "I want him to see what we can do, to let him see his world crumble and seeing a new world,"

"A bullet would have been better for him but it's too much for him, the guy deserved a slow & painful death," I stated, remembering what Adler did to us, feeling that his crimes need to be stopped for good against us,

"As I thought, our minds are alike and now, it's time for us to remember why we're doing all of this," He tapped me on my right shoulder in a friendly way before he moves to sit on his chair, "You should talk to Wraith before we start to work with our brains," He advised me & I nodded to him before I decide to leave him alone.

Shit, not only I'm trying to make sure that we got our hands on 'Greenlight' but we also have to fight Russell Adler himself and the team he was going to pull on, this guy was never going to let us do something without having him around and what he did to me...to us, it has to be given retribution, wanting to give him what he gave me in Rebirth Island. A deep breath later and I walked away to join up Wraith at her desk, as Stitch suggested to me before I could remember that day.

"Hi, you're Wraith, right?" I started in a low voice as I approached her desk before she turned around to look at me, putting a file aside that she got in her hands.

"Yes, Freya Helvig but call me Wraith, it's better...but if you're a close friend, you'll call me Freya," She presented herself to me, giving me indications about how I should talk with her. "So, as I heard, you were working with Stitch since 1968?" She asked me.

"Exactly, I was one of his assistants when he was the one leading the Nova-6 production in Rebirth Island before the CIA raided the place," I replied to her clearly, telling more of myself. "Since that event, I & him were close, not forgetting Bellamy of course," I added, not wanting him to be forgotten too.

"Like comrades..." She whispered, a grin on her face that almost make me blush and uncomfortable to look at her after those simple words as she used a rather uncommon voice from before.

"What about you? I have a feeling that I know you but...must be only my imagination," I demanded to her as if her voice was familiar to me but not this close

"Oh, you must be wondering how long I've been working with Perseus and if we know each other..." I nodded to her, biting my bottom lip, staying up as she was rolling her eyes around to think. "Well, it's been only an year that I left the NIS, disabused by what the West were going and since, I'm feeling happy and about if we met...maybe yes but it had to mostly eye contacts,"

"Yeah, that what I was thinking about," I muttered, making a muffled little laugh with my mouth.

"If you want to make further talks with me, I'll be willing to do with you," She stated, making me blush even further, passing my left hand behind my neck

"Uhm...for the moment, Stitch said that I needed your advice about remembering Rebirth," I told her, my voice a bit uncomfortable and trying to look away from her to Stitch.

"For that? You just need to remember everything because it's all-important: every detail count towards our work," She said in a normal voice to me. "By remembering that, that could help you to decrypt that file faster," She continued before she gestured at me to take the chair that was just behind me and I complied directly, taking it to sit near her, "You need to remember everything, every details is important," She added.

"Yes, everything..." I whispered, putting my arms on her desk to clean my mind to let me think clearly, stretching my fingers while closing my eyes to have better chances to remember everything.

"Take a deep breath and start to remember," She advised me, feeling one of her hand behind my back on my shoulder level, complying like she said. "Remember...everything, Bell," She continued, her voice appeasing me to control myself to make me think normally...

"Remember...remember everything...it was 13 years ago...the 28th of February 1968,"

#cod bocw #cod cold war #cod black ops cold war #cod cw #call of duty cold war #cod #call of duty #cod bell #black ops cold war #fem!bell #freya wraith helvig #vikhor stitch kuzmin

6 notes · View notes

footballxwrites · 3 years

Note

Ridiculously in love with your writing so giving another one😂

So read reports that Christian pulisic maybe going back to the bundesliga to play for Bayern so maybe you could write one on that where he feels guilty for not having been able to probably make it work in Chelsea. He’s been with his fiance since they were like 12 and she’s a British citizen and an arsenal fan so she was definitely the happiest when they moved to london as because she runs her own company and their main office is in London. Christian feels like a crap fiancé also because now she’ll have to travel up and down every other week like she did when they were in Dortmund, and she’s done and sacrificed so much for him and he couldn’t even make it work so she can be in her hometown for once and also be with her family, plus they’re looking to start a family so this travelling business and not having grandparents around the corner isn’t ideal either. With all this plus not starting games plus family stuff weighing him down, he starts to be distant from her and she obviously notices. She gives him a bit of space at the beginning but then quickly realises that they should talk about it like they always have in their relationship. So she brings it up and he lets out everything and she’s like “ don’t be stupid, I want the best for your career and if that’s in freaking Finland well go there, you’ve had a tough year and not the ideal start to your time at Chelsea ans that’s okay. Everyone has set backs but we need to make a comeback so we’re gonna do what’s best for you and then go from there. Europe is small and London to Munich or wherever it is isn’t too bad at all, plus you know I genuinely like travelling for work. And when the kids come we’ll just figure out a schedule that puts them first and have you seen our parents, they’re gonna be coming and seeing us all the time. It’s fine, we’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be just fine” and then Christian is just crying by then because how did he get so lucky blah blah blah... can’t wait for this one xxxxxx

Long Distance Love ♡

𝖧𝖺𝗁𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎! 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 (𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗅)...𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝖨 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝖾 😅𝗑

January 10 2021

Suddenly, you felt him stir slightly, readjusting his arms that were snaked around your body, which made your head shoot up to gaze at him, seeing his eyes fluttering open and a lazy smile creep upon his lips as he leaned into a kiss. His arms were quick to pull your waist against his so your head was flat on his chest, listening to the peaceful sound of his heartbeat, instantly making you feel at home. You little moment was cut short when his phone went off and he rushed out the room with a groan, leaving you annoyed and your heart pounding, having a feeling you knew exactly what the phone call was about, hoping he come back and give you the answer you wanted to hear...

“It’s gone through...the transfer” he sorrily spoke, making your breath hitch in your throat, although knowing it was a high possibility of the move actually happening, a part of you was certain he’d be staying here in central London for at least another year. “Guess you’d better get packing then” you softly laughed, feeling disheartened to say the least, the words of “it’s happening” not being the ones you wanted to fall from his lips, “look can we talk about this properly-“ he began, reaching for your hand as you swiftly dodged his grip and made your way to the bathroom, ready for a complete meltdown about everything, “No I have to get ready for work...while I still have my own business” you trailed off, letting the door close behind you with a slam...

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January 2 2019

"The real question is, how did I get so lucky?" you giggled before he gently pushed the mug of coffee into your hands while leaning in to plant a small kiss on your forehead. Instantly, that warm feeling flew through your body just from the smallest, loving touch he gave you, it never getting old. “Good morning, beautiful." he mumbled against your lips, before wrapping his arms around your neck and resting his head on top of yours, “and a very good morning to you handsome” you smiled, feeling the most relaxed you’ve felt in a while, lifting your gaze to him, love dancing in your eyes as you leaned in to clasp your mouths together.

"Kissing you never gets old," you mutter softly as you both pull away, Christian flashing you a cheeky grin before spotting his luggage packed and ready for the off beside the front door of your new complex, a sigh falling from his lips, “can’t believe I arrived here a week ago and I’m already flying back to Germany” he frowned, pulling a pout. “It’s only six months and it’ll be over before you know it, I’m not going to lie I will miss living over there, especially the weather” you giggled, messing up his perfectly gelled hair to which you got no thanks for, “hands off, this took ages to do” he said, pretending to be serious and grabbing your hand as if to say ‘go on do it again I dare you’. “I’m gonna miss you, the apartment’s gonna seem empty without you here...and it means I have to build all the flat pack furniture from IKEA myself” you huffed, pointing at the hundreds of cardboard boxes filling the spacious room as he laughed, culling your face and running a finger along your cheek, “you’ll be fine, we’ll FaceTime every night and whenever we have a minute spare because you’re gonna be busy as hell now...my super business woman” he winked as you shook your head, still not quite believing you actually own a company, like a whole ass company belonged to you and it was mad to just even picture it.

“Ah shut up, you’re making me blushing Mr Pullisic, now go before you miss that flight of yours” you grinned, going in for one last peck while shoving him out the door with a struggle, feeling like his clingy self wasn’t ever gonna leave, “I love you, see you in half a year” he happily said, grabbing his many cases and walking out, letting the door gently fall closed...

——————————————————

July 1 2019

The classic iPhone ping went off as an incoming text message lit up your phone screen, instantly opening the pic attachment of him saying ‘en route’ which meant he was on his way and by god you couldn’t wait to just see him in person after all this time. He barely got through the front door before you took a leap, linking your legs around his torso as his hands secured under your thighs to carry your weight. Squeezing him tight, you rested your head in the crook of his neck, enjoying his presence as a laugh escaped his lips, “missed me just a bit?” he stupidly asked, not even bothering to let you answer before smashing his lips on yours for the first time what felt like in forever.

Gently tapping your legs, he slowly placed you feet on the ground and then cupped your face, pulling you in for another long, loving kiss, “so how’s everything been then, and by the way you’ve done a good job decorating this place” he nodded, eyes gazing at all the modern interior, “funny you asked, I managed to open two more branches this week, one in Gateshead up north and the other in Manchester!” you exclaimed letting out a small squeal, not able to control your excitement any longer as his eyes went wide with joy. “I didn’t think you could make me any prouder but I guess I was wrong eh” he gushed, heading over to sort out his cases, “I’m saying the same about you” you laughed as he pulled out a couple man of the match awards along with a jersey signed by all the teammates. “It felt strange to say goodbye to them after all these years...but it’s time for a fresh start, here in London with Chelsea Fc and with you” he whispered, excited for the new chapter in your lives to finally begin.

——————————————————

The next year could only be described as perfect for the both of you, his career taking off and loving every moment at the club, getting along with everyone in the dressing room and then loving the fans and atmosphere within the stadium, and knowing you were in the stands somewhere cheering on your ‘captain America’ made it all the more special. As for you, your company was doing beyond amazing, going from National to world wide, owning buildings in Dubai, Spain and you’ll never guess where, Germany. Your main branch was of course London, where the company was founded and to which was the office you managed and were based at, meaning you rarely visited the abroad ones but you weren’t complaining, with you being a London gal to be in your home city with your own bloody business was unimaginable, not to mention you were only a 20 mins drive from your family.

Oh yeah and he popped the question about four months into the move on your eight year anniversary which you of course said yes to, already having planned out your dream wedding, the pair of you agreeing to have it here rather than America with work and travel and all that malarkey.

For the first time in ages, it all seemed to be coming together for yous...

———————————————————

January 10 2021

8 hours later and the two of you hadn’t spoken all day, with him going off to what you assumed was his last training session and proceeding to ignore you and your many questions, you decided to go to work too, trying to get this whole moving countries once again after only one fucking year back home thing off your mind.

“Right that’s it, you’re going to talk to me Christian because you must think I’m a mind reader or something and I can just tell what’s going in in that brain of yours” you said, stumbling through the door and throwing your keys in the side before throwing yourself on the sofa beside your sad looking boyfriend. “I’m sorry” was all he could say, looking down at the ground leaving you with a confused frown on your face, “enough with the apologies, I just want to know what this means, for us” you sighed, placing a hand on his cheek and giving it a small pinch, hoping it’d put a smile on his lips.

“Well I’m definitely leaving Chelsea, guess not everything works out...but it means I’m back off to Germany” he said as you slowly nodded, “you have to do what’s best for your career, ok?” you smiled, running a hand through his hair as he was quick to shake his head, “no I can’t. I don’t wanna leave you, not again. And anyways we’re supposed to be trying for a baby and that’s going to be a challenge if we’re in different countries don’t you think?” he’s spoke with a slight laughter. “I’m not arguing with you Pullisic, go and sign that contract and get yourself away to Germany to revive your job. I’m not saying I’m going to drop everything and move again because I have my work and life, but I can easily fly out and visit, you’re forgetting I have an office over there. As for kids, we’ll get to that part when it comes around...so just take one step at a time and get on the phone to your agent to tell him you’re taking the transfer” you blurted out with a soft smile, knowing exactly what you were saying and that this was just another step in your life, at the end of the day, life isn’t life without it’s challenges along the way...❤️

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If you got this far reading it, I hope you enjoyed it! x

@kingkepa @champagne-coys @footballcloud @footballmagical @alexajanecollins @masonmounts @hoely-pavard @hazardybala @jamesmaddiscnx

#football #footballer #football blurb #footballer imagine #christian pulisic #chelsea fc

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1199

America - What is your favorite place to eat? I mean...these days I obviously haven’t been eating out at all, but I used to always enjoy dining at either Yabu (for the food) or La Creperie (for the ambience).

Australia - Do you have any quirks when speaking? I don’t think so; or at least I don’t think I’d be aware of them unless someone points them out to me.

Austria - What kind of person do you wish to be? What do some (or most) of these questions have to do with the countries? Lmao. Anyway, I just want to be remembered as being kind, I guess. I’m not aiming for anything grand.

Belarus - Is there anyone you love? I’d do anything for my friends, close or otherwise.

Belgium - What do you think of your siblings? I like my sister; I care about her. I don’t really think much of my brother.

Botswana - Do you like to sing? Why or why not? Yeah, but I only do it for myself. I never sing in front of others; I don’t think I’m that good.

Bulgaria - Who do you consider close to you? My two best friends and everyone in my college friend group.

Cameroon - Describe your culture. Folktales, hundreds of languages, more than just adobo and balut.

Canada - Favorite wintertime activity? We don’t have winter.

China - What was the best moment of your life? I don’t think I’ve had it yet; but so far the moments that are in the running for ‘best’ are my Paramore concert in 2018 and the day I found out I passed UP.

Cuba - What sort of grudges do you hold if any? I haven’t talked to Marielle since the backstabbing incident in 5th grade, and I pretty much don’t talk to my uncle (unless we’re at a family gathering and I have to greet him for show) for all his past failures.

Cyprus - What hands-on activities do you like (drawing, carving, building, etc.)? Embroidery! which I haven’t done in a long while but I’m definitely still into it.

Denmark - Do you wish for something of your past? I wish I had more time with my relatives who died from Covid. Even a proper goodbye and a big, long hug from each of them would’ve sufficed.

Egypt - Do you stand up for what you believe in? How? Sure. I speak up about it, educate others when I can, and raise awareness or reiterate my stance about certain issues by sharing posts on social media.

England - Are you controlling? Depends on what context you’re talking about, because control can mean many different things. I’m a control freak when it comes to my work tasks and I know that can drive some people mad, especially those who prefer working independently.

Estonia - Do you think people often misunderstand you? I think I’m pretty easy to read.

Finland - What do you prefer, kindness, sternness, or apathy? In general, kindness; but I also don’t have any clue to what context these words pertain.

France - How do you show love for those you care for? I like messaging them about things I see that remind me of them. I will also buy them small gifts from time to time, usually food that I know they like.

Germania - What is the hardest thing you have ever had to do? Breaking up with Gabie, and accepting the said breakup. Both were equally difficult things to overcome and I’m just happy to be out of that part of my life.

Germany - Do you have a hard time forgiving yourself? Yes. It takes me a while, if at all.

Ghana - What is our favorite sport? You mean mine? I like pro wrestling, if that counts.

Greece - Do you let others help you when in need? I do, but I have a hard time asking for help. < Yeah. I will accept help when I finally acknowledge that I need it; but getting to the acknowledgment part can take me a while.

Hungary - Who is the person you trust most? Either of my best friends.

Hutt River - What is the most memorable dream or nightmare you have had? Back when I was at a low point I used to have recurring dreams of my girlfriend at the time dying. It sucks for the fact that my most unforgettable dreams are nightmares and for the fact that they all involve her, lol.

Hong Kong - Do you fear death? Not really. I fear dying in a way that I wouldn’t want to experience, but I don’t fear the actual concept of death.

Iceland - Do you hide your real personality? Why? I hide some parts from people I don’t know all that well or I’m not that close with; like I obviously wouldn’t have crackhead vibes with my clients at work lol. But outside of that I pretty much act the same way around everyone.

India - How important is family to you? Quite, but it’s not my be-all and end-all.

Japan - Tell us a secret about yourself. I don’t really have any. I share everything on this blog, anyway.

Kenya - What is your favorite wild animal? Elephants.

Korea - What is one thing you accomplished by yourself? Shooting my shot and landing an internship, and eventually a permanent job, at a company I had no connections with, all while I was heavily depressed and wasn’t really doing anything else to take care of myself.

Kugelmugel - Is there anyone you have a love-hate relationship with? My mom and I bicker all the time, but she is my mom.

Latvia - Do you believe you are brave? I guess so.

Ladonia - What is the internet site you visit most often? I’d say either Twitter or Facebook.

Liechtenstein - How do people underestimate you most often? I don’t know if I can answer this; people usually don’t.

Lithuania - Do you desire power? No. That implies being in the spotlight, which I don’t crave at all.

Macau - What is your favorite festival or celebration? Christmas, only for the huge amount of food I get to freely eat.

Molossia - Do you consider yourself strong? Emotionally, yeah. Also what is Molossia?

Monaco - Do you think you are a lucky person? Not a big believer of luck.

New Zealand - Would you rather be an elf, dwarf, Hobbit, or wizard? None of these.

North Italy - What is your least favorite part of your personality? There are some parts to my sensitivity that I don’t really like, like my tendency to overthink remarks that were actually meant to be harmless.

Norway - What was the most disappointing time in your life? All that time I spent being hung up on Gab and desperately talking to her post-breakup, mostly because of how much I neglected myself then. She was working a night shift then and I remember keeping on waking up at like 1 AM and the first thing on my mind always being to message her and UGH it’s just so embarassing to think about now.

Netherlands - Most generous thing someone has done for you? That one time Andi half-walked and half-took a trike back to UP at 11 PM after already having gotten home, just to retrieve something I forgot to bring home and was having a breakdown about. It was really embarassing and they bring it up every once in a while to tease me, but we have a good laugh about it now.

Poland - Hardest thing you have gone through? The breakup and deaths in the family.

Prussia - Would you prefer to live forever or die alone? Live forever I guess, because I have serious FOMO HAHAHA

Roman Empire - How would you like to be remembered? Like what I said at the start of this survey, just as someone who had been kind.

Romania - What is something you are very ashamed of? I don’t think there is anything.

Russia - Have you ever suffered from low self esteem? Do you still? I used to. Not really anymore. I’m liking myself more these days.

Sealand - Who is your best friend? Angela and Andi.

Seborga - What is your favorite beverage? Water or coffee.

Seychelles - How do you handle people being rude to you? Be mean back, but in a passive-aggressive way.

South Italy - What is your favorite part of your personality? I like that I’m generous and that I can remember a lot of different small details about everyone.

Spain - What would you tell to the person or people you hurt most if you had a second chance? That she was right, I ended up being happier without her; and that I hope she can finally sleep well knowing she was right, considering our whole relationship was pretty much built on her wanting to be right about everything.

Sweden - Are you a leader, follower, or independent? Follower.

Switzerland - Would you consider yourself evil, good, or neutral? Chaotic neutral.

Thailand - How good is your poker face? I don’t even understand poker.

Tibet - What do you value most? Friendships, and my happiness.

Taiwan - What do you think of the people or person who raised you? Grateful.

Turkey - Would you ever want children? That would be nice, in a few years.

Uganda - How would you like others to see you? I answered this question like twice already. It still applies hahaha.

Ukraine - What is one thing that has made you stronger in life? The difficulties I was able to overcome.

Vietnam - What is something you are proud of about yourself? ^ Those.

Wy - What kind of art do you like? Paintings and films.

Zimbabwe - Who is your favorite character from any folklore? I don’t like folktales.

#survey #surveys

8 notes · View notes

moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

A Bug’s Life

Peter Parker x Lang!reader

warnings:

a/n: i love this concept and also anon u r sweet and i just found out theres a marvel supervillainess named dragonfly but since i havent heard of her until today im using that name!

prompt: anonymous: “Can you please write a Tom Holland!Peter Parker x Female!Reader where the reader is the older sister of Cassie Lang (Antman’s daughter) and her and Peter fall in love with each other. ✨ Thanks so much! 😘”

Okay, so when you were a kid, you had always dreamed of being a superhero. You never thought you’d know your idols personally, though. You see, when your dad, Scott Lang, came back from prison, a lot changed. Suddenly, he was a superhero and no matter how much he didn’t like it, you wanted to be apart of it.

“Y/N, no, please. You’re just a kid!” You dad argued with you in the presence of your “uncles.”

“Scotty, I think it’d be good for her, you know? Like, she’s so smart and she’s got a lot of talent! I think she could learn a thing or two from Hope and Dr. Pym, right?” Uncle Luis egged on.

“Yeah, dad! Me and Hope have already been experimenting with some stuff and, I mean, Mom’s been bugging me over getting into some extracurriculars...” You reasoned with him.

“Yeah, y/n, like photography club or soccer, not being a crime-fighting bug!” Scott pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, but when he looked back up, you were giving him puppy eyes. “Don’t...don’t do that.”

“Please, dad? I just wanna follow in your footsteps. You’re my hero.” You pouted your lip and didn’t break eye contact with him until he let out a load groan.

“Your mom is going to kill me.” He mumbled while you celebrated with Luis.

You became known as Dragonfly, Ant-Man and Wasp’s sidekick partner. It wasn’t long before you were affiliated with the Avengers and other heroes from across the galaxy.

The first time you stepped foot into the Avengers Compound was unbelievable.

“If only I could tell eight-year-old me how cool she’d grow up to be...” You whispered as your dad led you through the place. You were specifically requested for recruitment following a backround check that proved that you were qualified to train as a junior scientist! The program had just been started thanks to the young Spider-Man, one of the many heroes you had met before and would actually get to know after today.

“Alright, kiddo, it’s not too late to back out.” Your dad told you.

“It’s gonna be fine, dad! You know you can visit me anytime and I’ll come to see you and Cassie every chance I can get.” You gave him a warm smile to let him know it’s alright.

“I know...I’m just gonna miss you, you know?” He shrugged, but before the conversation could continue, you were greeted by Bruce Banner, aka the Hulk.

“Welcome! Nice to see you again, Scott.” Bruce shook your dad’s hand, then turned to you. “And it’s wonderful to finally meet the girl behind the mask.” He shook your hand.

“Nice to meet you, too, Doctor Banner.” You fit your small hand into his abnormally large (and green) hand.

“I’ve heard great things about you, Y/N. I’m excited to see your talent up close.” Dr. Banner chuckled. “I told Peter to meet us here, he probably forgot.” He walked to the wall and pressed the speaker button to the intercom. “Peter, can you meet us at the South Entrance?”

Moments later, a teenage boy came barrelling towards the three of you.

“Sorry! Sorry I’m late.” He apologized profusely. You giggled at the disheveled appearance of him. His hair was sticking up in the back and his flannel was half-tucked into his pants. “I’m Peter!” He stuck his hand out for you to shake. “Peter Parker. Spider-Man.” You took his hand gladly and shook it.

“Y/N Lang. Dragonfly.” You introduced yourself. “It’s been a while since we’ve fought together.” You pointed out. “Maybe that’s a good thing.” Peter’s eyes furrowed at that comment. “You know, not fighting.” You added.

“Oh, yeah, definitely!” Peter agreed.

“So, let me guess: you overslept?” You referenced Peter’s bold look and he quickly fixed anything noticeably wrong to him. Bruce and your dad were just observing the chemistry between you and Peter, exchanging entertained glances.

“Hi! I’m y/n’s dad, Scott. Ant-Man.” Scott interrupted as he waved to Peter.

“Oh! I remember you. You got really big in Germany and I had to web your knees until you fell down.” Peter brought up old memories and you covered your mouth to stop from laughing.

“Yep! That’s me.” Scott eyes got slightly wider. “So, I really wish I could stay, but I have a meeting with a client tomorrow morning that I can’t miss. Alarm company doesn’t run itself, you know?” Silence. “Anyways, uh, y/n.” He motioned you a bit closer so you could say goodbye. He crouched down and grabbed both your shoulders. “I love you so much and I am super proud of you. This is an awesome opportunity, kiddo!”

“Yeah, I know.” You said in a sort of disappointed tone.

“What’s wrong?” Scott asked.

“I’m just gonna miss you.” You frowned.

“Come here.” Your dad pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m gonna miss you, too.” The hug lasted at least sixty seconds before he pulled away and kissed your forehead. “Okay, now here’s your bag, go do some science!” He gave you your suitcase. “I love you, Pumkin.”

“Love you, too, dad.” You smiled, almost holding back tears. You really didn’t want to say goodbye to him, but it’s apart of life. Scott watched as you, Peter, and Banner walked down the halls of the Compound. Bruce and Peter were showing you your new room!

“What’s crime like on the West Coast?” Peter asked you. “I’ve only fought crime on the East Coast. And Europe. And Space.”

“Crime is the same coast to coast. It’s crime.” You shrugged.

“Well, that’s cool. Sorry, I’m not good at small talk.” He chuckled.

“Peter, you’ll be able to show y/n her room and give her a little tour, right?” Bruce asked as he slowed down.

“Yeah, no problem.” Peter nodded.

“Alright, great. I’ll be in the lab if anyone needs me.” Bruce walked away and left the two of you to it.

“Okie doke.” Peter clapped his hands together. “Well, this is the hallway.” Is exactly how he just began the tour. The Compound was actually, surprisingly, bigger than you expected. “And that’s the training room, there’s the kitchen, your room has it’s own bathroom, but there are other bathrooms all over the place. There’s a shopping list on the fridge if you ever have any requests, but fruit snacks are banned since I ate two full boxes in one day and threw up.” Peter gave that wonderful anecdote.

“Wow, that’s...impressive?” You tried to come up with something.

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘disgusting.’” Peter and you shared a laugh as you approached your new room. He opened the door up and you stepped into the biggest bedroom you’d ever seen. “It’s taken some getting used to, you know, the big room, the big bed, the huge bathroom, all of it.”

“This is amazing.” You mumbled.

“Yeah! And Bruce said we can go shopping and decorate the room any way you’d like. I just got my license, so I’d be cool with driving.” Peter proposed.

“Yeah, I think that’d be pretty cool.” You agreed as you threw your suitcase onto the bed and started unpacking. “Uh, I’m kind of hungry...know any places to eat around here?” You started putting shirts on hangers and filling up your huge closet. You noticed Peter hadn’t answered your question yet, so you turned around to see what he was stalling for. He was just watching you. “Am I really that interesting?” You joked.

“What?” Peter blinked. “Oh! Yeah, sorry, yeah, there’s a few places around that we can go to. Assuming you’d want my company, of course. It’s your choice, really.” Peter rambled and you approached him.

“Duh, I gotta get to know my housemate better!” You pulled Peter out of the room and in a random direction. “Am I going the right way to the garage?”

“No.” He answered and you quickly changed directions. You were oddly comfortable with Peter already, and he wasn’t exactly against it. You were super sweet to him and you two have a lot of shared experience. Teen heroes trying to make a difference. And bug-themed.

Peter drove you to his favorite (and closest) restaurant for dinner, and on the way, he played his music on the playlist. Left Hand Free by Alt-J played through the speakers as you sang along.

“You like this song?” He asked and you nodded without a pause in singing. “Good, so do I. You have a really good voice.” He complimented, which definitely made you blush.

“Thanks, now sing with me!” You nudged his arm leaning on the console and resumed your singing.

“I don’t really sing.” Peter chuckled and saw you roll your eyes, then sighed. “Fine. You win.” He began to join you in song.

Well your left hand’s free, and your right’s in grip. With another left hand watch his right hand slip towards his gun, woah woah woah...

“You’re not too bad, yourself, Peter.” You told him as he pulled into a parking spot at the restaurant. The two of you walked in together and the waitress immediately recognized Peter.

“Hey there, Peter! Good to see you!” She greeted and grabbed two menus. “I see you’ve brought a date.” She raised her eyebrows and smirked.

“Oh, uh, she’s not—” Peter stuttered before you took over.

“Yep, it’s our first date! I’m y/n.” You introduced yourself.

“Well, it’s nice to see him with someone. Follow me, you two.” She let you over to a table and told you she’d be back for drinks in a minute. As soon as she left, Peter turned to you.

“When were you going to tell me this was a date?” Peter cocked an eyebrow with a crooked smile to match it.

“I’m sorry! I hope it’s okay I told her that.” You innocently replied.

“It’s more than okay.” Peter leaned forward. “I’m happy to be your date. We are moving a bit fast, though.”

“Are you sure? This is actually pretty slow for people our age. By now, they’d probably be confessing their love for one another.” You joked and he rolled his eyes.

“You are so right!” He snorted. “Jeez, it’s been so long since I’ve talked to someone my own age!” He sighed. “What about you?”

“I hang out with adults all day long. The only kid I hang out with is my little sister. Do you have any siblings?” You asked him.

“Only child.” Peter answered. “What’s your sister’s name?”

“Cassie. She’s sweet but it’s kind of weird coming back after the Blip and seeing her all big and everything.” You made random hand gestures to demonstrate that she was bigger.

“I know, right! I have classmates that I saw as infants that are now bigger than me!” He explained. The waitress came back and got you your drinks and took each of your orders. Back to the chit-chat. “Okay, now tell me, what got you into the hero-game?”

“Okay, well, my dad had just gotten out of prison, right?” That sentence itself made Peter choke on his drink. “Oh, calm down, it was a non-violent offense. He actually exposed corruption, that’s why I look up to him.” You explained.

“That’s good, that’s good. I’m glad. Go on.” He took another sip from his drink.

“Yeah, so then he robbed Hank Pym, who actually wanted my dad to rob him, then a bunch of ants broke my dad out of jail after he got arrested again for stealing from Dr. Pym, then my dad became the new Ant-Man and took down some bad guys, his new girlfriend, Hope, who is Dr. Pym’s daughter, took a liking to me and started showing me the ropes, so me and my Uncle Luis convinced my dad to let me make my own suit. Then Dragonfly was born.” You explained in full detail. “What about you?”

“Oh, yeah. Well, I got bit by a radioactive spider that was being experimented on in a lab, then I had a short-lived wrestling career, then my uncle who raised me died and I became Spider-Man.” He smiled and your jaw dropped.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” You asked.

“Oh, yeah, I’m good.” He admitted as you guys recieved your food. “So, anything else I should know about you?”

“I dunno.” You shrugged. “I like Star Wars.” You told him.

“Me too!” Peter exclaimed.

“No, you don’t. My dad told me Spider-Man called AT-AT’s ‘walking-thingies.’” You shook your head and laughed at the thought of that.

“Okay, so I’m not a huge fan, but our next date can be a Star Wars marathon?” Peter proposed.

“Yes!” You agreed a bit too enthusiastically. Peter smiled and the waitress brought an ice cream sundae with two spoons to the table.

“It’s on the house.” She told you two with a wink.

“Looks like we’re sharing.” You grabbed a spoon and got to work. Peter got chocolate all over his chin. He was kind of a messy eater. “You’ve got a little something...” You grabbed a napkin and wiped his chin clean.

“Thanks.” Peter picked his spoon up and moved it towards you. “Have you tried any of the brownie yet?” You took a bite of what he offered.

“Wow, that’s amazing.” You spoke through your mouthful.

“I hate to brag, but I make a pretty mean batch of brownies.” Peter bragged.

“You’re gonna have to prove it, Pete.” You wiped your face off and cleaned up your spot a bit. “You ready to get back to the Compound?”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get going.” Peter left some cash on the table to pay the bill and walked you out to the car. The car ride back was filled with jokes and even more stories about your super-adventures. “So, you’re telling me that the first time you shrank, you cried?”

“Yes! Dude, it was an emotional experience. I’m telling you, I was not prepared for something so cool.” You defended yourself. “Now tell me something embarrassing about your powers.”

“I got stuck to a bathroom stall at school and they thought I was skipping class so they sent an aide and I was crying out of fear.” He admitted with pity in his voice.

“Oh, my god. That’s awful.” You giggled and grabbed his hand. “Have you recovered yet?”

“No, unfortunately not, but the handholding sure does help.” Peter squeezed your hand tighter.

“I’m glad.” You smugly replied and closed your eyes to listen to the music. You were kind of exhausted from traveling, so you knew you’d pass out the moment you hit your bed. Soon, you arrived at the Compound and Peter kissed your cheek to get you up.

“We’re hoooome.” He said in a singsong voice as your eyes fluttered open. “Sorry, that was weird.” He apologized, but you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a long kiss. More like a brief makeout, but potato, poe-tah-toe.

“You’re really cute, you know?”

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