#Amigo Spiele

[whovian223]

New to Me - November 2023

New to Me - November 2023 @czechgames @gmtgames @bwisegames @devirgames @AMIGO_GamesUS @PlanBGames_

With a convention coming in November, I had a feeling that this New to Me games list would get pretty hefty. Little did I know how hefty it would get! This was a big month for new to me games. Even better, many of them are older! Though not necessarily better. After last month’s Cult of the New to Me near rebellion, it was nice to play some older new to me games. That even got me some…

[herrlindemann]

Rock Hard - December 1997

Within two years from underground act to million seller. Rammstein wherever you look and zaps. Even the teen publications have now discovered "the boy band of staged horror" (quote: TAZ) for themselves. Rammstein answer readers' letters in Bravo. The increasing level of awareness and success, however, also call critics and moral guardians on the scene. Because the hard guitar riffs with rumbling vocals and ominous lyrics from the children's room make even the most understanding parents grow gray hair.

Till Lindemann's provocative enigmatic poetry certainly does not necessarily correspond to current "political correctness" and to everyone's taste. Nevertheless: It's only Rock'n'Roll. And for as long as rock 'n' roll has existed, the standard themes of sex, drugs and violence have held an undeniable fascination for generations of youngsters. So the concerned parents and the fire brigade dutifully wait in the cold in front of the sold-out Lichtenfels town hall.

Meanwhile, inside, the dear little ones try to fight their way between bikers and goths, while KMFDM struggles on stage. As an opener, it's doubly difficult to survive in front of a hit parade audience that unites teenagers and Rammstein fans from the very beginning. But the quintet around the American exile and band founder Sascha Konietzko doesn't make it easy to find access to pounding electronic music either. True to the motto "No pity for the majority", dull techno beats with synth gimmicks are used throughout. Like the most recent CD, the performance suffers from the guitarist's lack of assertiveness. The hole that opens up here shows once again the handicap of the Elektrolurche-Industrial faction in large halls. The matter remains cold and sterile, the beat doesn't get into your blood or dance.

The rumble of thunder and hail of bombs shake the hall. Curtain up for five metal machine people. The "Tillminator" joins them from the burning underground. “Spiel mit mir” is the motto of the evening; it could also mean “Sing mit mir”. The fans are hooked — every line is cheered on from the start. Compared to the tour last May, everything is one size bigger. No song can do without a show element, the pyromaniacs Rammstein do a great job. Something is constantly hissing, sparking, crackling and cracking. If not, spotlights, stage floor, keyboards or microphone stands have to take their toll. In addition to the apocalyptic facade, the six Berliners also show a certain amount of self-irony, for example when the three amigos with sombreros and traveling guitar intervene in the action, Till empties the contents of his plastic cock into Flake's pants or Richard pulls a real metal solo from the leather. Otherwise, the musical moments of surprise are limited. The show is in the foreground — not a bad price-to-smoking ratio for 35 marks. The atmosphere in the audience is excellent, but calls for encores can hardly be heard. Isn't that the case today, when a whole hall is enthusiastically asking for more? hit audience? Sated youth? It doesn't matter, Till is still rolled across the audience to the stage in a burning steel coat on a cart. But then the vermilion ends surprisingly quickly. Parents and the fire brigade can go home relaxed.

[silentsneezes]

here’s a little continuation of the sick jamie tartt fic i started!!

Roy stands up, “I’ll call Keeley. She can come pick us up,” he orders.

“Wait, what?” Jamie looks up at Roy, frustration evident, “I’m already here, might as well train, Plus, I’m fine.”

Roy rolls his eyes, “Tartt, do us both a favor and shut up,”

Jamie huffs and stands up, “Common Roy, don’t call Keeley. It’s just a few hours,” he gives Roy his best puppy dog eyes, and grins as the older footballer groans and nods defeatedly.

“Fine, but if you start feeling worse, you tell me, alright?” Roy asks, voice serious and eyes trained on Jamie’s.

Jamie nods, feeling a warm sensation in his stomach as his old nemesis shows concern for his well being. He exits the bus, sniffing into a fist as he steps into the sunlight, wincing as his headache worsens.

Luckily, Jamie doesn’t feel too bad as he follows the team down a few backstreets. At one point, he does duck to the side with an itchy, “hh’gxTSCh!” which goes unnoticed except for Dani, who politely blesses him, “Salud, mi amigo!”

As they walk, Roy keeps a close eye on Jamie. He’d texted Keeley letting her know about Jamie’s cold, and she said she’d pick up some cold medicine and supplies.

There’s a collective groan as the footballers reach their destination: a sewer. Ted excitedly announces that they’ll be climbing in, and Jamie wishes he’d taken Roy up on his offer to go home.

“So, who’s first?” The coach asks eagerly. Everyone steps back; everyone except Jamie, that is.

“Wha- Common lads,” he looks around, realizing he’s the closest to the ladder.

“Alright Jamie!” Ted encourages, “Just climb on in there. Let us know how it is.”

“It’s a sewer, coach. What do you expect?” Jamie asks, pulling a face as he starts the descent. He reaches the bottom quickly, pulling his shirt over his nose and cringing at the overwhelming scent. The other teammates clamber down one by one, all complaining about the stench.

Eventually, Ted goes on a spiel in which he explains why they’re in a sewer, but Jamie finds that his head is swimming too much for him to actually pay attention. It must be inspiring, because a few people whoop, and others nod along. Jamie rubs at his temples, wishing the scent of shit was less all consuming.

After a few minutes, the team starts climbing out of the sewer; apparently Ted had successfully taught whatever lesson intended. As Jamie climbs out, he notices Roy eyeing him and blushes, turning away from the older footballer and joining in a conversation with Isaac and Colin.

Jamie groans internally as the itch in his nose reignites. He paws at the itchy appendage,

“hHdDTSchw! h’nNGSXchx!”

His shoulders tremble with each attempted stifle, his body flinching into a closed fist. Roy walks closer to him, his scowl deepening as he assesses Jamie’s worsening condition.

“Fuck, Tartt,” Roy growls, “You were supposed to say something if you got worse.”

Jamie looks over at him with wide, fever-glazed eyes. He sniffles softly, his nose even pinker than before, “I’m fine Roy, really.”

Roy glowers at the sick footballer, groaning and resisting the urge to shout, “for fucks sake.”

Roy pulls out his phone, shooting Keeley a quick text and telling Jamie, “Keeley will pick us up when the bus gets back. You can’t train like this,” his voice softens with the last sentence.

He knows Jamie’s really out of it because he doesn’t argue, he just nods and continues sniffling against his runny nose.

“Shit, Jamie,” Roy sighs anxiously, wishing Keeley was here; she’s better at being comforting and understanding.

“hh-,” Jamie’s breath catches softly, nose twitching and eyebrows furrowing, “fu-heh-fuck,” he curses as his nose burns, but refuses to give him relief. He’s too distracted by his need to sneeze to be embarrassed, and he’s far too distracted to notice how Roy can’t look away.

Roy’s stomach does somersaults as Jamie’s breath hitches helplessly. Jamie presses his knuckles against the base of his nose, immediately triggering a partially muffled, “hHM’dTch!”

Before Jamie can even draw a breath, he pitches forward with another sneeze, “hHN’gGXxt!” The stifle grates against his already sensitive throat.

“Bless you,” Roy growls as Jamie catches his breath.

that’s all for now! i’ll probably continue this :) sorry the update is so short, but i hope you enjoy <3 thank you so much to everyone who commented ! i really appreciate it

[myckicade]

An hour later...

Did EVERYONE have to die this week?? Writing mistake. It doesn't improve the flow of the story. Pacing is STILL important!!

And, yeah, I get the tie back to EZ's spiel about war, but that's still plenty lazy writing to me.

Also, I'm DEEPLY disappointed - and also entirely relieved - that I was wrong about the coffin. I was hoping for something a little more creative and imaginative than Creeper, but dude.

Sure, at this point, Bishop's whoring little ass could have landed in there, and I'd feel a little less upset than over Angel or Marcus, but y'know.

Side Note: I'm typing this on my phone, as I'm on vacation this week, so please forgive anything that comes out horrendously incorrect.

Edit: That only includes my grammar, not my opinions. I own those bitches.

Bleh. Luisa's end felt... lackluster, to say the least. I was never her biggest fan, but that death barely made any sense. I get what they were aiming for. The execution was just poor as shit.

Emily's side quest story is just pissing me off, now. That could have been played out in a manner that actually made it interesting, and wasn't just another low-ranking entry into the Kill of the Week pool. *deep sigh*

Miguel. Do better.

EVERYBODY. Do better.

Except the Amigos. We only got .2 seconds of them together, but I lived for that fraction of time. ❤️❤️

Final Thought: I love how it at least LOOKS like EZ's perfect little plans have fallen apart by the episode's end. Because, seriously, FUCK HIM. FUCK YOU, EZ. I SERIOUSLY feel like he's only Presidente as a way for the writers to let him do the Shady Shit, and sneak it by the rest of the Club. Oi. What a disaster.

Shout-out to Felipe, guiding Angel through single fatherhood.

Oh, and, EZ? Touch your brother, and rot in fucking HELL.

☺️😘

[tastaturean]

Reto 17 (Reto Quincenal): Con un mínimo de cuatro personajes. Uno en  primera persona y escondiendo un secreto a los demás. Mínimo 1000  palabras, máximo 1500 (1278) Rating: Tan “maduro” como inocente Reviente: …secretos de juventud

La fiesta de pijamas del personal de Hogwarts

Sólo  a Albus Dumbledore podría ocurrírsele celebrar Halloween con una fiesta  de pijamas de profesores en su despacho. No me importa soportar los  ronquidos de Hagrid en su saco de elefante a altas horas de la   madrugada, pero tener a Sybill al lado soñando predicciones en alto no   es una perspectiva muy alentadora.

De momento estamos todos sentados en  confortables sofás alrededor de una cómoda mesita de té llena de pastas y  bollos, como si la opípara cena de hace escasa horas no hubiese sido  suficiente. A este paso, no va a haber faja mágica que me contenga. Pero  una más…una más no me hará daño, ¿verdad? Albus sabe cómo y dónde  acariciar el punto débil de las personas. Oh, una sola más.

Cuando por  fin nos cansamos de debatir los expedientes escolares más notorios y  notables, Flitwick propone un juego que se supone nos amenizará la  velada hasta la hora de dormir.

- Cada uno contará la  experiencia más loca de su juventud, la que con más nostalgia recuerde,  la que sin duda volvería a repetir -explica, y sonríe de soslayo a  Severus, para que relaje el semblante tenso que se le ha quedado.

-  ¿Demasiado vino en la comida, profesor? -es la respuesta del maestro de  pociones.

Y aunque ahogo una risita, como los demás, debo reconocer que  se me ha puesto hasta el último pelo del moño de punta. ¿Experiencias  alocadas? ¡Minerva McGonagall nunca ha protagonizado ninguna anécdota  alocada! Ni siquiera en sus tiempos de quidditch. O al menos, esa es la  cara que ofrezco a la galería de profesores en un estado ebrio-festivo  moderado pero latente.

- ¡Empezaré yo, entonces! -anuncia  Flitwick- Cuando era estudiante, una vez me reuní con mis mejores amigos  y nos disfrazamos de enanitos según un libro muggle para niños que  consiguió uno, no sé cómo. Logramos convencer a una bruja muy simpática  para que hiciera de Blancanieves y nos fuimos de paseo por Londres en  carnavales fingiendo que teníamos efectos especiales muy sofisticados  para la época. Tuvimos tanto éxito que un tal Spiul…Spiel…bueno, un  señor que decía ser director de eso que los muggles llaman cine, nos  quiso contratar para una de sus películas. Si no hubiésemos tenido medio   curso por delante...

Albus ríe de buena gana; Severus arquea   media ceja y sorbe su té; Sybill examina con el ceño fruncido los posos de su taza y luego vaticina un futuro alternativo prometedor para   nuestro profesor de encantamientos, de haber elegido la otra carrera.

-  Pero lo hecho, hecho está. El pasado es el pasado y no se puede   cambiar. – suspira Sybill- Ahora yo, con tu venia, Dumbledore   –carraspea- Bueno, lo que yo os voy a contar tuvo lugar hace unos años, porque claro, la juventud es algo muy relativo que nunca te abandona a menos que la eches – sonríe, ajustándose sus enormes gafas- El caso es que fue mucho antes de que Dumbledore me llamara para cubrir la vacante  en Hogwarts. Digamos que andaba sondeando los rumbos posibles que me   deparaba el destino, y barajando las mejores opciones –buscando trabajo como cualquiera, a ver quién pagaba más y quién quería a un pequeño gran  fraude, pero mejor me callo y sorbo mi té para que no se me note la  guasa- y me surgió un pequeño trabajo para una emisora mágica local, que  buscaba una radioadivina para las gentes supersticiosas del lugar. Al  principio me iba a negar, claro, porque unas artes tan depuradas como  las mías no se pueden someter a un estricto horario radiofónico; pero  decidí intentarlo durante un día y...oh, ¡fue maravilloso! Conseguí  predecir 5 muertes, 3 engaños, 2 enfermedades incurables y hasta 8  grims, ¡y acerté uno de cada 10! Aún recuerdo las lechuzas de   agradecimiento que estuve recibiendo durante semanas…- comenta, y se   rasca una verruga diminuta junto al ojo izquierdo, fruto seguro de una   maldición agradecida.

Hagrid se carcajea ruidosamente y agita la mesa; Severus se atraganta con una pasta y Flitwick le da unas   palmaditas en la espalda. Sólo Dumbledore sonríe cortésmente. Yo doy   otro sorbito a mi té y dejo que otro tome el relevo. Hagrid carraspea   dos y hasta tres veces antes de empezar a hablar.

- Pues   yo…err…recuerdo aquella vez que me guardé a escondidas una cría de…un   bichito muy simpático que, de verdad, no mordía ni era peligroso, ni   venenoso, a menos que se le pisase por error la cola; y claro, era   difícil no hacerlo porque tenía la manía de deslizarse por entre los   pies de la gente para mordisquearles la ropa, hasta que hubo cierto   accidente que…ah, y también aquella vez que solté a aquella cría de yeti  de aquel circo ambulante de invierno y la traje a mi cabaña. Pero se   escapó y no he vuelto a saber de ella. Claro que poco después fui a   visitar a Aragog y había unos restos de esqueleto que no parecía humanos  en su nido, pero imagino que sería un centauro mutilado o alguna otra criatura de paso. Y también aquella vez, con la cría de…

- Creo que ya es suficiente, Hagrid, muchas gracias. Imagino que tus colegas profesores ya se han hecho una idea.

Los  profesores Vector, Sinistra, Sprout, Trelawney y Flitwick miran cada   uno en una dirección o buscan manchas en su túnica. Severus no oculta su  gesto de repugnancia y yo sigo sorbiendo la tercera taza de té y dejo que hablen, ¡que hablen ellos!, porque  Minerva McGonagall no tiene nada  interesante que contar. No señor.

Cuando Sprout termina confesando sus  “experimentos” con las hierbas medicinales en pipa y sus efectos en  buena compañía a la luz de la luna en un invernadero solitario,  decidimos irnos todos a dormir.

Por suerte, Albus ha sido precavido y  hechizó la puerta una vez entramos todos, de modo que Severus, como era  de esperar, no trate de escaparse a sus mazmorras después de confesar  que en cierta bacanal Slytherin de fin de curso, lograron vestirle con  la túnica de gala de Narcissa Malfoy y untarle de maquillaje hasta las  cejas. Sí, recuerdo que luego Lucius no dejaba de hacerle gestos  lascivos burlones a la hora de las comidas.

- Severus, ¿a dónde  vas? Tu saco está ahí, junto al mío –señala Albus amable pero  firmemente. Y estamos todos metiéndonos en nuestros improvisados catres  con cierto bochorno y sensación de “dónde me he metido, por Merlín y mis  ancestros”, cuando nuestro director remata- Ah, Minerva, y espero que  no te hayas hecho la falsa ilusión de escapar de tu turno de narración.  Mañana durante el desayuno nos contarás alguna historia divertida, de  esas que crees que no te extraerían ni con veritaserum. Ahora, ¡buenas  noches a todos!

Las luces de las lámparas se apagan y de  inmediato me pongo a pensar en una historia plausible y lo  suficientemente decente como para compartirla con los demás profesores.  ¡Ni hablar de contarles la que lleva rondando mi cabeza durante toda la  sesión! La que Albus, tan agudo él, parece haber adivinado en el brillo  de mis ojos mientras me evadía del monótono relato semi anecdótico de  Vector: el año en el que el equipo ganó la copa de Quidditch y todas mis  amigas y yo nos fuimos a celebrarlo a un santuario secreto de brujas,  un día de luna llena, bañándonos desnudas en la fuente bajo las  estrellas, cantando himnos prohibidos y construyendo hermandades  perecederas pero ¡oh! tan bonitas entonces.

Y, soñando con aquella  noche memorable, no escucho ni los ronquidos atronadores de Hagrid, ni  los augurios somnolientos de Sybill, ni el rechinar de dientes de  Severus, ni la risita pícara de Albus, que sé, oh sí, sé de buena tinta,  que nos está examinando en sueños a todos.  

En la fiesta de Albus, en la fiesta de Albus, todo el mundo salía con algún secreto de minus

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

Publicado originalmente en el Gremio HP de Livejournal en septiembre de 2004 aquí.

Nota: Los versos finales hay que cantarlos con la melodía de "En la fiesta de Blas". Es muy malo, pero tenía que hacerlo : X

Los retos del Gremio HP los voy recopilando en Wattpad aquí.

[gameforestdach]

Mit Japans größter Videospielmesse, die nächsten Monat stattfindet, haben Sega und Atlus Pläne für eine 'besondere Übertragung' während der Tokyo Game Show angekündigt. Am 21. September um 19:00 Uhr japanischer Zeit (also 12 Uhr deutscher Zeit!) können sich Fans auf dem offiziellen Sega Japan YouTube-Kanal einschalten, wo die neuesten Updates zu den neuesten Titeln beider Unternehmen enthüllt werden. Der Livestream wird Teil der laufenden Sega News sein, einer monatlichen Übertragung, um die Fans auf dem Laufenden zu halten. Zu der Übertragung wurden keine spezifischen Details bekannt gegeben, aber es wird erwartet, dass Spiele wie 'Sonic Superstars', 'Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth' und andere vorgestellt werden. Vor der TGS veröffentlicht Sega Ende August ein neues Spiel in der Samba de Amigo-Serie, 'Samba de Amigo: Party Central'. Mit solch einer aufregenden Aufstellung erwarten wir, dass diese Tokyo Game Show-Übertragung ein Muss für alle Sega- und Atlus-Fans sein wird! Die Tokyo Game Show-Übertragung: Was können wir erwarten? Auch wenn noch keine konkreten Details zur Übertragung bekanntgegeben wurden, ist es wahrscheinlich, dass die Spiele, die sowohl von Sega als auch von Atlus stark beworben werden, im Mittelpunkt stehen. Fans sollten auf erste Einblicke in hocherwartete Titel wie 'Sonic Superstars', das Yakuza-Spin-off 'Like a Dragon Gaiden: The Man Who Erased His Name', 'Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth' und 'Persona 5 Tactica' achten. Bei der TGS könnten auch bald erscheinende Titel wie 'Persona 3 Reload' und 'Metaphor: ReFantazio' im Rampenlicht stehen. Ein Überraschung vor der Show: Samba de Amigo: Party Central Darüber hinaus werden sich Fans der Rhythmus-Spielserie Samba de Amigo freuen, dass ein neues Spiel, 'Samba de Amigo: Party Central', am 29. August für die Nintendo Switch veröffentlicht wird. Aber damit nicht genug, Sega hat Pläne für eine VR-Version angekündigt, die später in diesem Jahr für Meta Quest 2 erscheinen soll. Diese innovative Ankündigung unterstreicht sicherlich den Ruf von Sega als zukunftsorientiertes Spieleunternehmen. Sega und Atlus: Ein dynamisches Duo Sega und Atlus - eine Beziehung, die zu einigen ikonischen Spieletiteln geführt hat. Es ist klar, dass diese 'besondere Übertragung' ihr Engagement für die Einbindung und Information der Fans repräsentiert, was in einer äußerst konkurrenzbetonten Branche lobenswert ist. Eines wissen wir mit Sicherheit: Mit Sega und Atlus wird eine aufregende Übertragung garantiert! Erwartungen und Schlussgedanken Angesichts der Erfolgsbilanz der Unternehmen können die Zuschauer eine Mischung aus Teasern, Trailern, Einblicken hinter die Kulissen und möglicherweise einige Überraschungsankündigungen während der Tokyo Game Show-Übertragung erwarten. Also markiere deinen Kalender für den 21. September und schließe dich uns an, während wir gespannt darauf warten, was Sega und Atlus enthüllen werden! Worauf freust du dich am meisten während der speziellen Übertragung? Teile deine Gedanken in den Kommentaren unten mit!

[futsal-blogat]

Spielbericht: Diamant Linz vs. Amigo (BUL)

Videos vom Spiel: https://www.futsal-blog.at/sp_event/askoe-diamant-linz-vs-amigo-northwest-bul/ Klassischer Fehlstart in die Champions League für Österreichs Vertreter, Diamant Linz. Im ersten Vorrundenspiel gegen den Gastgeber Amigo NorthWest aus Bulgarien hatte der rot-weiß-rote Meister die vollen 40 Minuten Mühe, ins Spiel zu finden. Es entwickelte sich eine typische Auftaktbegegnung: Fehlpässe, technische Fehler und misslungene Dribblings prägten das Bild in der ersten Halbzeit. Beide Teams zeigten sich noch nicht championsleaguereif. Die erste große Chance hatten die Linzer – doch der Weitschuss von rechts außen landete am Pfosten. Im direkten Gegenzug sah sich Aleksandar Milovanovic als letzter Mann gezwungen, nur mit einem Foul einzugreifen. Die direkte Konsequenz: Rote Karte für die Nummer 25 der Diamantenen und zwei Minuten in Unterzahl.Dass die Linzer auch weiterhin nicht richtig ins Spiel fanden, zeigte sich beim 1:0 für die Bulgaren in der 4. Spielminute. Dobrichov wurde aus rund elf Metern nicht angegriffen, sein Flachschuss schlug hinter dem sichtlich irritierten Keeper Hodzic ein, der seine Vordermänner zurecht zusammenstauchte. Die Oberösterreicher zeigten sich jedoch nur kurz geschockt – nach einer der wenigen gelungenen 1-gegen-1-Situationen am Flügel gelangte der Ball eine Minute nach dem Führungstreffer ins Zentrum zu Hasib Seperovic, der aus kurzer Distanz zum Ausgleich einschob.Das Spiel blieb weiterhin von Fehlern auf beiden Seiten geprägt. Diamant kam nach elf Minuten erstmals wieder gefährlich vors Tor, doch der Goalgetter Stevo Rozic scheiterte zweimal am bulgarischen Torhüter. Die Amigos hatten den Linzer Pivot größtenteils gut im Griff. Adis Muhamedagic prüfte den NorthWest-Schlussmann Pavlov in der 18. Minute noch einmal per Freistoß, bevor auch der Linzer Neuzugang Hodzic Sekunden vor dem Pausenpfiff noch einmal eingreifen musste. Der Pausenstand lautete also 1:1.Beide Teams wirkten in der zweiten Halbzeit zunächst aktiver. Sowohl Hodzic als auch Pavlov zeigten sich jedoch in guter Form und verhinderten weitere Gegentreffer. In der 28. Spielminute folgte dann die kalte Dusche für Diamant: Amigos Nr. 23 Baharov, der beste Mann auf dem Parkett, setzte sich im Zentrum gegen zwei Linzer durch, spielte rechts auf Seniuk, dessen abgefälschter Schuss Hodzic alt aussehen ließ – der Gastgeber führte erneut.Diamant bemühte sich, den erneuten Rückstand auszugleichen, aber entweder vereitelte Pavlov die Einschläge oder die Stange stand im Weg. Zu allem Überfluss verletzte sich Torschütze Seperovic am Knie – Futsal-Blog.at wünscht ihm an dieser Stelle alles Gute! Coach Iljia Simic entschied sich acht Minuten vor Schluss dazu, auf den Flying Goalkeeper zu setzen – eine Entscheidung, die sich als falsch herausstellte. Die Linzer konnten auch mit einem Feldspieler mehr zunächst keine klaren Torchancen herausspielen, die Distanzschüsse wurden allesamt Beute des überragenden Pavlov. So kam es, wie es kommen musste – der Ukrainer im Dress der Amigos, Vasyl Kefa, nutzte einen Konter zum 3:1. Diamant antwortete mit wütenden Angriffen, aber Pavlov übertraf sich selbst, und auch die Latte half den Bulgaren noch einmal. Den Schlusspunkt eines aus Linzer Sicht verkorksten Auftakts setzte dann erneut Kefa, der Sekunden vor Schluss mit einem Empty-Net-Treffer aus der eigenen Hälfte den Endstand von 4:1 besiegelte.Bereits nach dem ersten Spieltag steht Diamant mit dem Rücken zur Wand. Nun sind zwei Siege nötig, in der Hoffnung, dass die Bulgaren ihrerseits zumindest einmal verlieren. Read the full article

[dietariovienes]

AGOSTO NO CAFÉ KAFKA - UN APUNTAMENTO

As noites de agosto na cidade teñen, ás veces, algo de circo abandonado, de xardín devorado polo vento ardente e o respirar canso dos corpos. É como se todo o mundo saíse fuxindo de vez, deixando atrás a vida e as cartas medio escritas, posuídas as persoas polo pavor á secura monótona dos días e ás flores esquecidas, aos nomes da sede.

No entanto, nalgúns vellos cafés de Viena, como este, outra estación, unha moi viva, treme no seu interior como un animal de lombo suntuoso. Até aquí chega unha marea rara de xentes vitais, de bebedores de sempre, de viaxeiros de lonxe que entran algo confundidos no aire mesto do local, logo de vadiaren pola cidade, que en agosto é unha sorte de territorio solar. A seducción, a bebida e o xogo das voces van formando entrelazos densos. No café non hai regras determinadas nin taxonomías fixas, mais é como se todo o mundo soubese de xeito intuitivo o papel que lle corresponde nesa escenificación, elocuente en acenos e plena de espazos de indeterminación e asombro.

A tipoloxía da masa do café é a dun arquipélago. Divídese en mesas que, ben poden ser fortíns, ben pequenas illas devastadas pola soidade. Ou o campo dunha vella batalla que está por librarse outra volta. Este é o vello café Kafka, que resiste desde o 1908, ano en que foi fundado. Nas paredes penduran vellos cartaces e imaxes dedicadas ao escritor de Praga e, dalgún xeito, cada noite é unha homenaxe inexplicábel a el mesmo, á súa escrita que tentou dar conta de todas as feridas por viren. Estas paredes do Kafka están afumadas da calor de tantos cafés invernais; dos tantos días, aqueles, cando non se comprendía estes lugares sen unha fumaza permanente; dos poemas perdidos, xeración tras xeración, da heroica mocidade de Viena, de todas as Vienas.

Hai unha pátina nobre e suxa ao mesmo tempo, unha cor pobre e bohemia ao mesmo tempo sobre os cadros e os afiches desas películas francesas nas que todos quixemos vivir un día e que cobren as paredes do café. Romy Schneider chorando tan fermosamente como nunca antes ninguén chorara. As mesas do Kafka son pequenas, antigas e de mármore e as súas cadeiras, algo escangalladas, de madeira e de estilo Thonet, como o eran hai cen anos e como o deberían seguir sendo até a chegada da Apocalipse.

Escóitase moito inglés neste café, en varios sotaques e falares…Na verdade, aquí escóitanse decote linguas diversas e todas elas conviven sen mancarse, porque, na verdade, todas queren falar do mesmo, todas empregan ese alfabeto inmemorial dos vellos cafés de Viena. Son cliente habitual do Kafka. Síntoo agora como unha prolongación do meu lugar no mundo: a escolla da música aquí, en bucle, é sempre acolledora e suxerente, exacta na súa secuencia (pode ser Al Green, Van Morrison, Ornella Vanoni, a Velvet ou Gainsbourg…), o persoal que atende as mesas con xeito é moi cordial e esperto, como mostrando unha confianza sen voltas, e todo ten un aquel de improvisación e alegría de vivir.

O Kafka lembra algo a un café en Saint-Germain, mais mantén durante o mediodía e nas primeiras horas da serán os silencios necesarios deses adustos cafés da Europa Central entre Zürich e Budapest. Quero imaxinar sentada nun dos recantos tapizados e esluídos deste café unha Hilde Spiel, impecabelmente vestida e fumando Gauloises con boquilla de óso, redixindo algunha das súas crónicas literarias, de estilo tamén impecábel. Ou Joseph Roth, bebendo duro co seu amigo Soma Morgenstern, contando ocorrencias brillantes e piadas amargas, esbardallando entre copa e copa de Grüner Veltliner.

Dalgún xeito, todo iso continúa no Kafka, esas voces non se perderon aínda. O tempo pasará e moitos non regresarán xa nunca máis aquí. No entanto, o corazón do café seguirá vivo, intacto, como o interior dun ámbar incólume, fermosamente antigo. Fóra, a noite de agosto prepárase para un novo milagre…

(Carlos Penela)

[spielesnacks]

Ran an die Rassel: Samba de Amigo: Party Central erscheint im Sommer 2023 für Nintendo Switch

Amigo ist zurück und bereit, die Rasseln zu schwingen! Das Spiel wurde zum ersten Mal während der letzten Nintendo Direct enthüllt und SEGA freut sich, offiziell einen brandneuen Teil der „Samba de Amigo“-Reihe ankündigen zu können: Samba de Amigo: Party Central bringt Rhythmus-Gameplay auf und vor die Bildschirme und erscheint im Sommer 2023 für Nintendo Switch™. Mit Samba de Amigo: Party…

[whovian223]

Friday Night Shots - Game Length

Friday Night Shots - Game Length @gmtgames @FFGames @garphillgames @alderac @AMIGOSpiele

(This was supposed to go out last night, but instead it’s going out tonight. Pretend it’s still Friday, ok?) It’s another Friday, and it’s vacation time! Yes, I am off of work for an entire month, not returning until July 31. But since it is Friday, let’s belly up to the bar and talk about another game-related topic that doesn’t require a whole lot of brain power (or coherency). That subject…

[abrukstuff]

Sauscharf - novo Wolfgang Kramer

Sauscharf – novo Wolfgang Kramer

A Amigo Spiele lançará vários títulos, como habitualmente, na feira de Essen. Um deles é da autoria do mestre Wolfgang Kramer e chama-se Sauscharf. Imagem Amigo Spiele Sauscharf é um jogo da autoria de Wolfgang Kramer e Christian Stöhr com ilustração de Jan Bintakis para 2 a 4 jogadores com mais de 10 anos e uma duração aproximada de 30 minutos. Suave, picante ou super picante? Em função do…

[cinematografieliebhaber]

Carnival of Monsters ist ein Brettspiel von Spieleautor Richard Garfield für Spieler ab 12 Jahren. Einmal im Jahr nimmt die Königliche Monstrologische Gesellschaft neue Mitglieder auf. Für die Monstrologen bedeutet die Präsentation der Kreaturen viel Mühe und strategische Planung. Länderkarten helfen die exotischen Monster zu gewinnen und geschultes Personal stellt sicher, dass sie keine Bedrohung für das Publikum darstellen.

[mate1959]

2021-10-04

Das Wochenende war Superschön. Am Samstag habe ich zuerst ein feines Herbstmenu gekocht. Am Abend gingen Estela und ich das erste Mal seit mehr als einem Jahr ins Kino. Auch das war ein gutes Gefühl. Nach so langer Zeit wieder einmal im Ausgang zu sein mit vielen Menschen im Kino und ohne Masken um uns herum.

Der Sonntag begann frühmorgens mit wunderschönen Farben am Himmel, die jedoch auch einen Wetterwechsel ankündigten. Der Sonntag war zwar noch trocken und warm, kündigte jedoch mit seinem Farbenspiel das schlechte Wetter an, das uns in der Nacht erreichte.

Ich traf mich mit meinen FC Zürich-Freunden schon am Morgen zum Jubiläumsanlass und ich muss zu meiner Schande eingestehen, dass ich bis zum späten Nachmittag zum ersten Mal seit Beginn der Chemotherapie dem Bierkonsum gefrönt habe. Über die Stunden ist ca. 1 Liter zusammengekommen. Der FCZ erfüllte dann unsere Erwartungen mit einem spektakulären 6:2 Sieg gegen den FC Sion. Dass danach Union Berlin auch noch sein Spiel gewann, rundete das Weekend perfekt ab.

Eine Nebenwirkung der Krebserkrankung ist, dass ich viel medizinisches Wissen auf den Weg mitbekomme. Seit einiger Zeit habe ich Probleme mit den Augen, die jucken und tränen. Das führt im Laufe des Tages zu angestrengtem Schauen. Das wiederum führt im Extremfall zu Kopfschmerzen. Lästig ist auch, dass dies schon am frühen Morgen nach dem Aufstehen losgeht.

Frau Jermann, die Onkologin hat mir empfohlen, einen Termin bei der Augenärztin abzumachen, um das abzuklären. Den Termin hatte ich heute. Frau Hess hat zuerst alle möglichen Parameter im Auge untersucht, welche durchgehend perfekt waren. Es ist also kein grundlegendes Problem mit den Augen.

Sie hat danach die möglichen Nebenwirkungen der Chemotherapie anhand der eingesetzten Zytostatika und der Immuntherapie abgeklärt. Trockene Augen sind eine mögliche Nebenwirkung. Spannend an der Sache ist, dass trockene Augen zu erhöhtem Tränenfluss führen, genau das was mir passiert. Die Tränenflüssigkeit besteht aus drei Schichten.

· Die unterste muköse (schleimige) Schicht überzieht die Hornhaut netzförmig und setzt die Oberflächenspannung herab, was der Benetzung der epithelialen Zellmembranen durch die Tränenflüssigkeit dient.

· Die mittlere, wässrige Schicht sind die eigentlichen Tränen. Sie enthält wasserlösliche Substanzen und Proteine.

· Die dritte und oberste Schicht ist eine lipide (fetthaltige) Schicht. Sie stammt aus der Meibom-Drüse und dient der Verlangsamung der Evaporation der wässrigen Schicht. Diese Schicht wird durch das Blinzeln auf die Augenoberfläche gebracht.

Wenn nun die dritte Schicht zu wenig ins Auge gelangt, führt dies genau zur Evaporation. Damit steigt durch die Schwerkraft der Tränenfluss, das heisst die wässrige Schicht wird zu wenig durch die lipide Schicht abgedeckt und es tropft.

Frau Hess hat mir auch erklärt, dass vor allem die Arbeit am Bildschirm und das permanente Betrachten des Smartphones diesen Prozess verstärkt. Dies deshalb, weil diese Tätigkeiten die Konzentration erhöhen und das Blinzeln reduzieren.

Ich nehme an, dass durch häufige das Home-Office und den kleineren Bildschirm diese Konzentration noch erhöht ist. Das Handy und das Tablet sind auch nicht ohne. Sie hat mir nun zwei harmlose unterstützende Medikamente mitgegeben. Ich hoffe, das wirkt. Die Steigerung wäre ein Medikament mit chemischen Substanzen.

The weekend was super nice. On Saturday I first cooked a fine autumn menu. In the evening, Estela and I went to the movies for the first time in more than a year. That was also a good feeling. After such a long time to be out again with many people in the cinema and without masks around us.

Sunday started early in the morning with beautiful colors in the sky, but they also announced a change in the weather. Sunday was still dry and warm, but announced with its play of colors the bad weather that reached us during the night.

I met up with my FC Zurich friends early in the morning for the anniversary event, and I must admit to my shame that by late afternoon I had indulged in beer consumption for the first time since starting chemotherapy. Over the hours about 1 liter came together. FCZ then fulfilled our expectations with a spectacular 6:2 victory over FC Sion. The fact that Union Berlin also won its game afterwards rounded off the weekend perfectly.

A side effect of cancer is that I get a lot of medical knowledge along the way. For some time now, I have had problems with my eyes itching and tearing. This leads to strained looking during the day. This in turn leads to headaches in extreme cases. It is also annoying that this starts early in the morning after getting up.

Mrs. Jermann, the oncologist, recommended that I make an appointment with the ophthalmologist to clarify this. I had the appointment today. Mrs. Hess first examined all possible parameters in the eye, which were perfect throughout. So it is not a basic problem with the eyes.

She then clarified the possible side effects of the chemotherapy based on the cytostatic drugs used and the immunotherapy. Dry eyes are a possible side effect. What's exciting about this is that dry eyes lead to increased tear flow, which is exactly what happens to me. Tears are made up of three layers.

- The lowest mucous (slimy) layer coats the cornea in a reticular pattern and lowers the surface tension, which serves to wet the epithelial cell membranes with the tear fluid.

- The middle, aqueous layer is the actual tears. It contains water-soluble substances and proteins.

- The third and uppermost layer is a lipid (fat-containing) layer. It originates from the Meibom-Gland and serves to slow the evaporation of the aqueous layer. This layer is brought to the surface of the eye by blinking.

Now, if too little of the third layer enters the eye, it will cause exactly evaporation. This increases the tear flow due to gravity, i.e. the aqueous layer is not covered enough by the lipid layer and it drips.

Mrs. Hess also explained to me that especially working at a computer screen and permanently looking at the smartphone intensifies this process. This is because these activities increase concentration and reduce blinking.

I assume that due to frequent the home office and the smaller screen, this concentration is even increased. The cell phone and tablet are not without either. She has now given me two harmless supportive medications. I hope this works. The increase would be a drug with chemical substances.

El fin de semana ha sido súper bonito. El sábado, primero cociné un buen menú de otoño. Por la noche, Estela y yo fuimos al cine por primera vez en más de un año. Eso también fue una buena emoción. Después de tanto tiempo, volver a salir con mucha gente al cine y sin máscaras a nuestro alrededor.

El domingo comenzó a primera hora de la mañana con hermosos colores en el cielo, pero también anunciaban un cambio en el tiempo. El domingo seguía siendo seco y cálido, pero anunciaba con su juego de colores el mal tiempo que nos llegó durante la noche.

Me reuní con mis amigos del FC Zúrich a primeras horas de la mañana para el evento del aniversario y tengo que admitir para mi vergüenza que me entregué al consumo de cerveza hasta última hora de la tarde por primera vez desde que empecé la quimioterapia. A lo largo de las horas, se consumió alrededor de 1 litro. El FCZ cumplió nuestras expectativas con una espectacular victoria por 6:2 contra el FC Sion. El hecho de que el Union Berlin también ganara su partido posterior redondeó el fin de semana a la perfección.

Un efecto secundario del cáncer es que adquiero muchos conocimientos médicos por el camino. Desde hace algún tiempo, tengo problemas de picor y lagrimeo en los ojos. Esto conduce a una mirada tensa durante el día. Esto, a su vez, provoca dolores de cabeza en casos extremos. También es molesto que esto comience temprano en la mañana cuando me levanto.

La señora Jermann, la oncóloga, me recomendó que pidiera una cita con la oftalmóloga para aclararlo. Hoy he tenido la cita. La Sra. Hess examinó primero todos los parámetros posibles del ojo, que eran perfectos en su totalidad. Así que no es un problema fundamental de los ojos.

A continuación, aclaró los posibles efectos secundarios de la quimioterapia en función de los fármacos citostáticos utilizados y de la inmunoterapia. La sequedad de ojos es un posible efecto secundario. Lo más interesante es que la sequedad ocular provoca un aumento del flujo lagrimal, que es exactamente lo que me ocurre a mí. El líquido lagrimal consta de tres capas.

- La capa mucosa más baja cubre la córnea en forma de red y disminuye la tensión superficial, lo que sirve para humedecer las membranas de las células epiteliales con el líquido lagrimal.

- La capa intermedia, acuosa, es la verdadera lágrima. Contiene sustancias hidrosolubles y proteínas.

- La tercera y más alta capa es una capa lipídica (que contiene grasa). Procede de la glándula de Meibom y sirve para frenar la evaporación de la capa acuosa. Esta capa sale a la superficie del ojo al parpadear.

Ahora bien, si entra poca cantidad de la tercera capa en el ojo, esto lleva precisamente a la evaporación. En consecuencia, el flujo de lágrimas aumenta por gravedad, es decir, la capa acuosa no está suficientemente cubierta por la capa lipídica y gotea.

La Sra. Hess también me explicó que trabajar frente a una pantalla de ordenador y mirar constantemente el smartphone y la tableta, en particular, intensifica este proceso. Esto se debe a que estas actividades aumentan la concentración y reducen el parpadeo.

Supongo que debido al trabajo frecuente en la oficina en casa y a la pantalla más pequeña, esta concentración aumenta aún más. El eléfono móvil y la tableta tampoco faltan. Ahora me ha dado dos medicamentos de apoyo inofensivos. Espero que esto funcione. El siguiente paso sería un medicamento con sustancias químicas

[javier-djarin]

Como Me Duele: Chapter 10

Ship: Javi x Reader

Rating: M

Word Count:  5,490 words

Warnings: Language, Mild Violence

Masterlist

Summary: Someone has taken Javi’s hermosa, and now he’s coming to get her. And he’s bringing hell with him.

A/N: Three more posts left. Which makes me so sad, because I loved writing this fic. Thank you again for all the love and support! Please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think. Please let me know if you want to be on my tag list! Chapter 11 coming soon! Also, there is a lot of Spanish in this one. Most of it is from the show. I apologize in advance. The translations are at the bottom.

His POV

He sat in a crumpled mess on the sidewalk looking at the suitcase that had been busted open. The blood that pooled around the suitcase had to have been her’s. He felt pain, misery, panic, and rage all at once. He wanted to scream and cry. She was gone, and the last image she had of him was Gabby’s arms around him as she kissed him. He balled his fists in his hair, hating himself even more for hurting her the same way Michael did; the same way Javi promised he’d never do. He had no one. Steve was gone tracking Escobar’s family to God knows where. He had absolutely not one person he could call for help. He gathered her things, gently folding her clothing before carrying the broken suitcase up to their apartment.

Javi set it on the dining table before taking a seat next to it. He could call Berna, unless that’s who took her. He knew Los Pepes were getting nervous the last time, since he was not as forthcoming with information like he was before. He could notify the Embassy, but they’d release it to the press, and then the kidnappers could get spooked and do something unimaginable to her. He banged his fists on the table in rage. The best thing he could do right now was use whatever resources he could find, and bring her home. He would burn Colombia to the ground if he had to, just to make sure she was safe, and he was prepared to do exactly that.

He jumped out of his seat and ran to his Jeep. He was losing precious time, so he sped to the Embassy. His tires squealed as he skid into a parking spot. “Javi,” one of the secretaries said as he blew by them. “Javi, you have a message!”

He stopped. “From who?” He spun to face her, his rage causing him to shake and tremble.

“I think you should go talk to the Ambassador,” she said softly.

Without missing a beat, he turned on his heel, bursting into the Ambassador’s office where Messina was already waiting. “Agent Peña,” Crosby said, “please, have a seat.”

“With all due respect, Ambassador, I need this to be as brief as possible.”

Messina looked at her agent and sighed. “We received a call about 20 minutes ago from Escobar.”

His face turned ghost white. “What did he want?”

“He threatened us. He wants us to pull strings to get his family into Germany. Agent Murphy is there now trying to prevent that.”

Already knowing the answer to his next question, he decided to ask anyway, “What-uh-what leverage does he have? Or did he just call and ask nicely?”

“It seems that he has a Ms. Y/N Y/L/N in his ‘protective custody’ saying when his family is safe, he will return her to us. Apparently she is an American Nurse who was down here volunteering-”

“I know who she is,” he said all too fast. “She’s,” his voice cracked, “she’s my…” the fastest way to get her back was if she was DEA. They protect their own. She may not want anything to do with him once he got her back, but right now her safety was all he cared about. “She’s my wife.”

“Agent Peña, I thought you weren’t married.”

“Recently married, Messina.” He cleared his throat and tried to calm down.

Crosby sat back in his chair and watched Peña. “Well, there’s only one problem. His family is already on a charter back to Colombia. They booked their flight late last night and will be landing here tonight.”

Javi felt his heart race. Escobar was going to kill her, and he knew it. They went after Pablo’s family, so naturally he retaliated. This was exactly why he wanted her in the states, instead of here. “Not to be crass, but how the fuck am I going to get her back?” he said through his teeth.

“We are working with Colonel Martinez to find her,” Crosby said.

“And we’re going to need you to stay here, Agent Peña,” Messina added.

His eyes immediately darted to hers. “No. Court Marshal me, send me home, but do all of that after I break that direct order. I’m going out there to find her.”

“You’re too close to this.”

“Damn right I’m too close to this, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to bring her back to me!” he exclaimed, “And if that motherfucker calls here again, I want to talk to him.”

Messina looked at Crosby for a cue. He was sitting silently, with no expression on his face as he waited for Javi to be done with his tirade. “Look, we don’t negotiate with terrorists. However, we aren’t going to abandon one of our own. Your wife is DEA. We are going to do everything in our power -”

“Please, Ambassador, cut the shit. I know this spiel. We give it to anyone who loses someone. I’m sure they gave this same talk to Mika Camarena when Kiki went missing. I’m going to go out there and find her, either on my own or with help. I’m not waiting for clearance or authorization. Her hours, no minutes are numbered.”

Messina stood up and approached Javi. “When Agent Murphy lands, we will send him in for backup. Whatever you need, let me know. You’ll have it.”

Your POV 

You took a deep breath as you stood outside your apartment complex, nervous about seeing Javi and telling him the news: you were pregnant. You ran various scenarios through your head from best to worst case. You reached out for the doorknob and pushed the door open and slowly climbed the flight of stairs that led to your apartment. You were halfway up the second flight when you saw it. Javi was kissing someone. Her arms were draped over his shoulders and she held onto him like she knew him intimately. It felt like a hot knife was ripping through your body. Memories of Michael's betrayal hit you. It was happening again and this time, you didn't know if you'd survive it. The pain was almost too unbearable. You let out a loud gasp as tears welled in your eyes. He pushed her away. "Shit," he said, eyes wide, "Y/N."

You turned and bolted down the stairs. Maybe if you ran fast enough you'd catch a taxi before he got to you. Tears were blurring your vision by the time you made it outside. You thought of your child, realizing now they would never know the happiness their parents felt; he or she would be raised in a broken home. You heard tires squeal in front of you and two men run at you. You tried backing away, but your legs were already weak from grief. You dropped your suitcase and it burst open. The last thing you remembered was intense pain on the side of your head as you hit the ground.

***

You woke up a few times with a bag over your head. You were groggy and couldn’t really understand what they were saying as you drifted in and out of consciousness. Your head throbbed, obviously from the butt of a gun or something blunt that struck you. “El está loco,” You heard one of them say. “Primero esa bomba, ¿y ahora la novia de un agente de la DEA?”

“Era amigo de Carrillo.  Ese hijo de puta vendrá por ella y traerá el infierno con él,” the other said. 

The first one laughed. “No mierda  Acabamos de firmar nuestras propias órdenes de muerte, Blackie.”

That brought you out of your grogginess. If Blackie was in the car, then the other one had to be La Quica. Or at the very least one of Pablo’s men. Your heart sank. They were going to use you as a bargaining chip. Little did they know, Javi wouldn’t come for her. Michael was right. He only sent her away so he could hook up with local… no, you thought to yourself, there has to be a reason she was there. There was no way he would do that to me. He is going to come for me. Months of living together and love making told you that he loved you too much to betray you. He would find you, even if it killed him. 

His POV

He walked into the usual seedy bar to meet Berna, but this time he didn’t feel dirty about it. He didn’t care if this move cost him his career; he was going to get her back. He pulled his chair out and lit a cigarette. “No tengo ninguna información para ti, pero necesito tu ayuda,” he said. 

Berna sat back and grinned. “¿Que vas a hacer por mi?”

Javi tried to hide his emotions, but his fear and anger were all over his face. “Te pagaré.”

“$50,000,” he replied.

“Trato.”

Berna shook his hand. “Escuché que Blackie y La Quica se la llevaron. Ella está en algún lugar de Bogotá.”

His heart raced. “¿Dónde?”

“Estoy...investigando.”

Javi growled and slammed the table. “En el segundo en que encuentres algo, llámame. Quiero estar ahí.”

He put out his cigarette and left the restaurant. Just as he stepped onto the sidewalk, the phone rang. “Javi,” Steve’s voice rang from the other end. “I just landed. Messina filled me in.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up the phone. Javi sat in his Jeep for a second, frustrated beyond belief. He spent the entire day looking for leads, clues, anything, but he was coming up short. No one was talking. She was sitting, God knows where, waiting. He couldn’t get the look on her face out of his head. It was pure shock and hurt when she saw Gabby kissing him. He felt a tear roll down his cheek as he started the car. “I’m on my way,” he whispered to himself. 

***

Steve hopped in the Jeep and turned to Javi. “What the fuck, man?” he said, “I’ve only been gone for a day!”

Javi couldn’t turn to look at Steve. He knew if he did, he’d lose it. “I’ve got to find her,” his voice cracked.

“We will,” Steve reassured.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and sped down the street. “Where are we going?”

Javi didn’t answer, because he didn’t know. He just felt like if he was driving, he was doing something.

“Javi,” Steve sternly said, “Javi, pull over.”

He pulled off to the side and slammed the gear shift into park. “What!” Javi exclaimed.

Steve held his hands up in surrender. “Let’s go back to the apartment, and we will start there.”

“I already tried that,” he said, still looking at the steering wheel.

“Let’s try again. You had to have missed someone,” Steve said, “someone who was in the area.”

Javi froze. He did miss someone. Gabriela. Deep down, he knew she was part of it. She had to have been. Who else would be able to give her his address? “Fuck!” he screamed. 

“What is it?”

He finally turned and looked at his partner...friend. Tears ready to spill over at the edge of his eyelids. “Gabriela,” he croaked. Steve waited patiently for Javi to explain to him who she was. “She’s a prostitute.”

“Jesus, Javi,” he said, running his hand down his face. “What did you do?”

Javi recounted how Gabriela was the one who told him about Martiza, how she’s the reason Carrillo was set up, and how she showed up at his apartment door early this morning. His voice broke so many times when he tried to tell Steve about the last time he saw Y/N’s face, just before she bolted down the stairs. “She has to hate me,” he said, “which is why I have to get her back. I have to save her if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Well, let’s start with this Gabriela. Do you know where to find her?”

He put the car in drive. “I do.”

***

They pulled in and parked on the opposite side of the street from the brothel. Javi’s phone rang before they got out of the car. “Peña,” he answered.

“Javi! I just got your message,” Connie said at the other end.

“You called my wife?” Steve said.

“I had no one else to talk to!” Javi defended, “Steve’s back. We think we’ve found a lead. I can call you back after.”

“Wait, Javi,” she said, “hand the phone to Steve.”

He did so and left the Jeep. He needed some fresh air before heading to interrogate Gabriela. He ran his hand through his hair and leaned against the vehicle, about ready to lose the rest of his mind. Every second he did nothing weighed on him. She had limited time left.

“Steve,” Connie said over the phone, crying. “You have to find her, and soon.”

“I know, Connie. What do you think we’re doing?” he sighed.

“No, you don’t understand. Steve, you can’t tell Javi. Especially now.”

“Tell him what?”

Connie took a deep breath. “Y/N is pregnant.”

“She’s what!” he exclaimed.

“Look, we were all surprised, but that’s why she went back. She came down there to tell Javi. She wanted to do it in person and to surprise him.”

“Oh, Jesus. Fuck! I can’t keep that from him,” he said.

“You have to, Steve. What good is this information going to do him now? Nothing, except drive him more insane. You get my pregnant best friend back. Be careful. I love you.” She hung up the phone, and Steve slammed his head lightly against the headrest. He climbed out of the Jeep and walked around to where Javi was standing. He stared at him with nothing but sorrow in his eyes, knowing what Javi should know.

“What?” Javi said. “What did she say?”

“How about I handle this interrogation?” Steve suggested. 

His hands trembled as he wiped his face. “Okay.” 

They walked into the whorehouse, instantly surrounded by girls promising a good time. Javi cornered one he knew, Vanessa. “¿Gabriela está aquí?”

“Sí, Javi. Ella esta arriba.”

“Gracias,” he added. 

Steve followed Javi through the hallways and up the stairs to Gabriela’s room. He knocked first, but when there wasn’t an answer, he burst in. Steve held back for a minute. She was in the middle of a job. “¡Vete, cabrone!”

The man grabbed his clothes and ran out of the room. Gabriela smiled and made her way over to Javi. “I knew you wouldn’t stay away for long,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He grabbed her wrists, a little too hard. “Cut the shit, Gabby.”

“Javi…”

Steve stepped out of the shadows and grabbed her arm, forcing her to sit in the chair in her room. “Who gave you Javi’s address? No one knew he’d moved apartments.”

“I don’t…”

Javi stormed over to her, pressing her into the seat. “Who, Gabby!”

She started crying. “Lo siento, Javi. Lo siento mucho. Ellos iban a matarme.”

He felt a weight lift. He found his lead. His breathing began to shake as he sat down. “Where did they take her?” Steve asked, pressing the barrel of his gun to her chest.

“I-I don’t know.”

He cocked the gun. “You’re going to have to do better than that. They were going to kill you, but I will.”

“Please, I can find out.”

Javi’s head jerked up and looked at her. “Call them. Now.”

“I can’t just do that.” She started crying harder. “They’re watching you.”

Both Javi and Steve froze. “They have been since Pablo escaped prison. That’s how they knew where to hit you where it hurt.”

“Call them.” Steve pressed harder with the gun. “Now.”

She reached for the phone on the side table next to her. 

Your POV

You woke again, this time with duct tape and rope around your arms and legs. You were blindfolded and strapped to a chair with a terrible headache. You head feet shuffling as they neared you. “Ella tiene una herida en la cabeza desagradable,” the man’s voice said. 

“Limpiarla. Pablo quiere que enviemos un video a la embajada.,” La Quica’s voice said from across the room.

“Nosotros estamos jugando con fuego,” the voice said as he dabbed at her wound with a cloth.

You tried to move away, but he held your head in place. “Estas bien, señorita,” he said, trying to calm you.

You didn’t say anything, but instead let out a small sob. You felt another pair of hands on your face, lifting your chin up to expose your neck. “Tal vez podríamos divertirnos un poco con este después del video.”

“Por favor, no,” you begged.

“Sí. Quiero ver qué te hace tan especial para la DEA.”

“No, por favor. Estoy embarazada.”

La Quica laughed. “Limpiarla.”

His POV

Blackie. She was able to give them Blackie. She told them about Blackie’s girlfriend in Medellín. Javi and Steve walked into the Search Bloc offices to begin mapping out a plan of attack. Steve’s phone rang. “Murphy.”

“It’s Messina,” she said, “keep Peña away from the TV.”

“What happened?”

“She’s on the TV.”

Steve saw Trujillo and Peña talking, as they both rapidly walked into Martinez’s office. “You called about thirty seconds too late.”

Javi stood in shock as he watched the tape that was released this morning by the news. La Quica was laughing in the video, showing them her wounds she sustained. She cried the entire time, pleading for them to let her go. Her beautiful eyes swollen and red. One was bruised. In one final display of dominance, La Quica backhanded her to silence her. Blood dripped from her split cheek and swollen lips. Pablo’s usual reporter, Valeria Velez, was the one on TV with a screencap of his beautiful hermosa in the upper left corner. “Escobar tiene un mensaje para los responsables de mantener a su familia en peligro: Mientras mi familia esté en peligro, la tuya también. Mantener a mi familia seguro, o te enviaré su cabeza en una caja.”

Enraged, Javi grabbed the whiskey glass in front of him and threw it at the TV, shattering the glass and screen completely. Martinez and Trujillo stood back, fearing they would be the next targets. Steve came in and grabbed Javi before he destroyed anything else. “I’m going to kill those motherfuckers,” he said, “every last one of them.”

“I know,” Steve said, “starting with Blackie. Let’s catch this asshole.”

***

They walked out of Blackie’s Girlfriend’s apartment complex, defeated. They were dead. Everyone inside. Javi was almost sure that Blackie fled. He wouldn’t be coming back here, and their lead was a dead end. He punched the side of his Jeep out of frustration. He was growing restless and angry. It’d been three days since she’d been taken, and he hadn’t slept at all. How could he? She was out there, somewhere being tortured. He couldn’t afford to sleep. Steve approached him. “It looks like the work of Los Pepes.”

Javi cursed. Of course. He hadn’t given them that information, which means someone else was. “We have to find Blackie. Get him to talk.” He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll drive,” Steve said, taking the keys from him. “Sleep, at least while I drive us back.”

“I can’t sleep. Not until she’s safe.”

Your POV

“Patrón, Los Pepes se están expandiendo. Los Galones están trabajando con ellos ahora. No podemos enfrentarnos a un enemigo tan grande,” you heard La Quica say into the phone. “Sí, sí. Ella está viva. ¿Dónde? Medellín. Sí, Patrón. Gracias. Hasta luego.”

Based on the one-sided conversation you heard, you put together that you were being moved to Medellín. You felt your heart drop. You wanted to scream and cry for Javi, but you knew that would result in Quica beating you. You had no idea how long you’d been trapped here, but you were grateful they hadn’t done anything to you to hurt your child. The worst La Quica did was slap you.

You were no longer worried about yourself, but instead your baby and Javi. You knew this had to be killing Javi. He sent you away for this reason. Tears ran down your cheeks as you silently cried. You should have just called him, but instead you were selfish and wanted to celebrate with him in person. Now, he was out there somewhere looking for you, risking his life to bring you home. 

His POV

They pulled into the Embassy lot as were instantly met by Messina. “We overheard some chatter,” she said.

Javi felt his heart race. “Who?”

“Quica and Escobar. They’re moving ‘precious cargo’ to Medellín tonight. We are stationing teams at the airfields. And setting up blockades at various intersections,” she added, “she won’t leave the city.”

“Messina, a word?” Steve asked.

She nodded and walked away with Steve so they were out of Javi’s earshot. “She’s pregnant.”

Messina crossed her arms. “I’ll communicate that with team leaders to make sure she walks away unharmed and stays out of the crossfire.”

Javi had already walked inside, only to be approached by Stechner, who hopped on the elevator with him. “You’re the last person I want to talk to right now,” he said, “can’t you take the stairs?”

“Remember my warning, Peña? You’re starting to make our new friends nervous. Why didn’t you tell them about Blackie?”

He turned to look at him, annoyed. “They found his family, didn’t they?”

“No thanks to you.”

Javi could feel his muscles tense up. He was already on edge and in desperate need to take his frustrations out on something. Instead, he tried to calm himself. “They go in after her, guns blazing, she could get hurt. Or worse.”

“This is bigger than your girlfriend problems.”

He grabbed him by the shirt collar and slammed him into the elevator wall. “Not for me. I will burn this fucking place to the ground to find her, and if you try to stop me, I’ll take you down with me.”

The elevator door opened and he released him. He walked to his desk. He held the picture of her he kept there, running his fingers over the glass. “Javi,” Steve said behind him, out of breath, “we got him. We fucking got him.”

He set the picture down and turned to him. “Who? Where is he?”

“Blackie.”

***

Javi and Steve were granted access to the interrogation room where they had Blackie. He was sitting there, scared. His hands were tied around his back as he sat in a metal chair looking between the two of them with wide eyes. “Ustedes no me pueden hacer una mierda,” Blackie said, ”De Greiff nos ofreció amnistía.”

“Cierto,” Javi said, leaning back on the table, “Pero tienes que hablar para conseguirlo.”

Blackie smiled. “¿Quieres negociar, gringo? Te voy a dar algo. Algo pequeño.”

Javi leaned forward, bringing his face closer to Blackie’s. “Encontraron residuos explosivos en tus manos. En tu chaqueta, en todas partes. Te culparán por esa bomba.”

His eyes grew wider, realizing he had no bargaining chips left. “No tuve nada que ver con eso.”

Javi rested his gun on his leg. “Lo sabemos. Sabemos que no fue idea tuya. Sabemos que no eres el jefe. No dejes que te culpen por esto. No dejes que te vean como el que mató a todos esos niños inocentes.” 

Steve folded his arms and said, “Ayúdanos y te ayudaremos. Danos a Pablo.”

Blackie shook his head. “No puedo darte Pablo.”

Javi fired a round into Blackie’s leg, and he screamed out in pain. “¡El siguiente es para tu cabeza! ¿Dónde la están reteniendo? ¡Habla, cabrone!”

Crying through the pain, he exclaimed, “¡Yo hablaré! ¡Yo hablaré!” He pushed his gun onto Blackie’s forehead, hard, leaving an imprint in his skin. “La Quica la tiene en una casa segura en Medellín. Sabían que estabas escuchando sus conversaciones, así que la trasladaron anoche.”

Javi grabbed him by the shirt collar and shook him. “¿Dónde in Medellín?”

“Pablo está declarando la guerra a Judy Moncada. Quiere que La Quica junte tanto dinero como pueda. Probablemente esté en movimiento con él.”

Javi looked at Steve. “We need to get to Medellín. Now.” He turned back to Blackie and cocked his gun. 

“Eso es todo lo que sé. Lo prometo.”

Javi put his gun back on safety and returned it to his back, tucking it safely into his belt. He looked down at the floor and saw blood pooling around Blackie’s leg. He felt nothing for the man. “¿La llevaste?”

Blackie breathed through the pain and looked up at Javier. “No tuve elección.”

He used his elbow to send a blow to Blackie’s head, knocking him out cold. Javi stormed out of the room. “Peña,” Steve said, running after him.

Javi didn’t stop.

“Dammit, Javi, wait!”

“I don’t have time to wait. Catch up,” he said over his shoulder.

Steve jogged through the corridor and caught up to him. “We gotta tell Messina. They’re sending their resources to the wrong area.”

“Fine. Go tell her. I’m heading to Medellín now.” 

He let out a loud sigh and followed his partner. “I’ll call her from the road.”

***

Javi and Steve walked into the Medellín office and headed straight for Martinez. “I just got off the phone with Messina,” he said, “I’m letting you take the lead on this, Agent Peña. What do you need?”

He looked around the room at the  map of Medellín on the table. “We are setting up blockades. That fucker isn’t getting out of this city. I want reinforcements here,” he pointed at 10th street, “and here,” he pointed at 32nd street. “Intel suggests these are where his largest stashes are held. If La Quica is gathering money, he’ll go to these.”

Martinez motioned to the map. “We will block intersections so he can only go certain routes out of there. He’ll drive right into our trap.”

His heart was beating so fast, he was sure that the whole room could hear him. “Do not shoot at the car,” he said, “she might,” Javi’s voice cracked, “she might be with him in the car.”

Martinez looked at him. “I cannot make promises, Peña. If he starts firing at my men, they’ve been instructed to take him out.”

“Well, instruct them to take the fight away from the car,” Javi growled, “she’s not going to die in the crossfire.”

Steve slapped Javi on the back. “We’ll get her out of there. She’s going home in one piece.”

Javi sighed. He tried to look at the bright side: they were closer to her than they had been over the last few days. However, he had this sinking feeling in his stomach that his fight to get her home was far from over.

Your POV

You’d been moved so many times over the last several hours that your sense of direction was completely thrown off, not to mention they’d blindfolded you again. This time, though, you’d been thrown into the trunk of the car, and you could hear muffled arguing coming from the cab. You felt the car jerk forward as you tried to wiggle your hands free of the zip ties they used to tie your hands together behind your back. You knew that if you could punch through the tail light, you’d be able to signal for help. You couldn’t even get your feet loose, as they were duct taped together. You did your best to remain calm as you struggled against your restraints, but you suddenly stopped when you heard the car go silent as their phone rang. “Aló. Meirda. ¿Quién es la mierda?” You heard Quica say, “Hijo de puta. ¿Quien es este?”

Your heart raced. Please be Javi, you thought to yourself. You wanted to scream so whoever was on the phone could hear you, but you feared for your life. You knew if you drew any attention to yourself, he’d kill you for certain. 

Quica slammed on the brakes, and you heard them get out. There was gunfire, and so you panicked. You started tugging on your restraints more, only causing your wrists to become raw. You felt the car move as he piled back into the car and hit the gas. You slid forward, narrowly missing another head injury. You heard the phone ring again, and Quica yell something. He took a sharp right turn, and you slid into the side of the trunk, hard. Suddenly everything went black.

His POV

Javi leaned against Trujillo’s Jeep with a phone in his hand. “Now?” Steve nodded. “They’re ready.” He dialed the number he had for La Quica. It rang twice before there was an answer. “Aló.”

“Quica,” Javi said, containing his rage.

 “Aló. Meirda. ¿Quién es la mierda?” He could hear his voice begin to panic.

“Hola, Quica ¿Cómo te va, amigo?” he calmly replied.

“Hijo de puta. ¿Quien es este?” Quica yelled into the receiver.

Javi took a breath before saying, “Cálmate, Quica. No te pongas nervioso. ¿Que pasa, Quica?”

“¿Quién la mierda crees que eres, perra?” Quica replied as he hung up the phone.

Javi looked over to Trujillo. “It wasn’t long enough. Call him again.” They were trying to track his cell signal to find his car from the sky.

He took a deep breath and redialed the number. “Aló,” Quica said into the phone, clearly agitated.

“Quica,” Javi said, “¿Que pasa, Quica?” Quica didn’t answer him. Javi could hear his breathing pick up. “Quica, Quica, Quica,” he added, drawing out Quica’s name to keep him on the phone longer. “¿Qué hora es, Quica? ¿Qué estás haciendo, Quica?”

There was still no answer. “Quica…”

“Bastardo,” Quica said before hanging up.

Javi glanced at Trujillo. “We got him,” he said.

Without missing a beat, Javi and Steve hopped in their Jeep. “Go right,” Javi said. Steve jerked the wheel right. “Perez, cerca de toda la 4ta calle,” he ordered over the radio. “Go straight.”

Steve obediently followed Javi’s directions. “We need to go this way to cut him off.”

A car flew by in front of them. “There! Follow him!” Steve turned right again and gassed the car. Javi could feel his heart racing. He couldn’t see anyone in the backseat of this car, but if they could get La Quica, he was one step closer to bringing her home. “Follow him!” he exclaimed again.

Trujillo came over the radio, “Todas las unidades, prepárate para la obra.”

Javi felt a few tears well in his eyes. He needed to keep a clear head, in case she wasn’t there. He was so close to finding her, and he couldn’t hold in the apprehension any more. “To the right!”

Search Bloc’s team cut off Quica, who slammed on the brakes. He took off running down the street. Javi and Steve did the same and chased after him, guns drawn. Javi fired a few times in the air, causing La Quica to hunker down and stumble a bit, but he kept running. Javi then aimed and hit him in the leg, causing him to go down and drag himself to the end of a ravine, where Search Bloc was waiting for him. Steve beat Javi to La Quica, and punched him several times. Javi pulled him off before landing a few himself. “Peña!” Trujillo exclaimed over the radio, “you better get your ass back up here.”

His heart raced to the point he thought it was going to burst out of his chest. He looked at Steve. “Don’t get your hopes up, Javi,” he said, trying to keep him level headed.

Javi knew he was right. She might not even be up there, but he ran like she was anyway. He ran as fast as he could, ready to scoop her into his arms and never let her go. He ran uphill to the cars that were blocking traffic, and immediately his heart dropped when he saw a group of Search Bloc gathered around the opened trunk. “Trujillo,” he roared.

Trujillo moved everyone out of the way as Javi ran up to the sight. His legs collapsed from under him when he saw her tied, blindfolded, and bleeding in the back of the car. She wasn’t moving, and if she was breathing, it was so faint, he couldn’t see it. He rested his head on the bumper and let out a small whimper. Steve calmly walked up behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at his partner before standing. Javi placed his hands under her shoulders and legs, lifting her out of the trunk, and into his lap as he sat on the curb, holding her against him. Finally, he was able to breath again.

Translations

El está loco. Primero esa bomba, ¿y ahora la novia de un agente de la DEA? - He’s crazy. First the bomb, and now a DEA agent’s girl?

Era amigo de Carrillo.  Ese hijo de puta vendrá por ella y traerá el infierno con él.  - He was friends with Carrillo. That motherfucker is going to come for her and bring hell with him.

No mierda  Acabamos de firmar nuestras propias órdenes de muerte, Blackie. - No shit. We just signed our own death warrants, Blackie.

No tengo ninguna información para ti, pero necesito tu ayuda. - I don’t have information, but I need your help.

¿Que vas a hacer por mi? - What are you going to do for me?

Te pagaré. - I’ll pay you.

Trato. - Deal.

Escuché que Blackie y La Quica se la llevaron. Ella está en algún lugar de Bogotá. - I heard that Blackie and La Quica took her. She is somewhere in Bogota.

¿Dónde? - Where?

Estoy...investigando. - I am investigating.

En el segundo en que encuentres algo, llámame. Quiero estar ahí. - The second you find something, call me. I want to be there.

¿Gabriela está aquí? - Is Gabriela here?

Sí, Javi. Ella esta arriba. - Yes, Javi. She’s upstairs.

Gracias. - Thank you.

¡Vete, cabrone! - Get out asshole!

Lo siento, Javi. Lo siento mucho. Ellos iban a matarme. - I’m sorry, Javi. I’m so sorry. They were going to kill me.

Ella tiene una herida en la cabeza desagradable. - She has a terrible head injury.

Limpiarla. Pablo quiere que enviemos un video a la embajada. - Clean her up. Pablo wants us to send a video to the embassy.

Nosotros estamos jugando con fuego. - We are playing with fire.

Estas bien, señorita. - Everything’s fine, ma’am.

Tal vez podríamos divertirnos un poco con este después del video. - Perhaps we could have a little fun with this one after the video.

Sí. Quiero ver qué te hace tan especial para la DEA. - Yes. I want to see what makes you so special to the DEA.

Estoy embarazada. - I’m pregnant.

Escobar tiene un mensaje para los responsables de mantener a su familia en peligro: Mientras mi familia esté en peligro, la tuya también. Mantener a mi familia seguro, o te enviaré su cabeza en una caja. - Escobar has a message for those responsible for keeping his family in danger: While my family is in danger, so is yours. Keep my family safe, or I will send you her head in a box.

Patrón, Los Pepes se están expandiendo. Los Galones están trabajando con ellos ahora. No podemos enfrentarnos a un enemigo tan grande. Sí, sí. Ella está viva. ¿Dónde? Medellín. Sí, Patrón. Gracias. Hasta luego. - Los Pepes are expanding. The Gallons are working with them now. We cannot take on an enemy this large. Yes, yes she is alive. Where? Medellín. Yes, boss. Thanks. See you later.

Ustedes no me pueden hacer una mierda. De Greiff nos ofreció amnistía. - You guys can't do shit to me. De Greiff offered us amnesty.

Cierto. Pero tienes que hablar para conseguirlo. - That's right. But you have to talk to get it.

¿Quieres negociar, gringo? Te voy a dar algo. Algo pequeño. - You want to negotiate, gringo? I’ll give you something. Something small.

Encontraron residuos explosivos en tus manos. En tu chaqueta, en todas partes. Te culparán por esa bomba. - They found explosive residue on your hands. On your jacket, everywhere. They're going to blame you for that bomb.

No tuve nada que ver con eso. - I had nothing to do with that.

Lo sabemos. Sabemos que no fue idea tuya. Sabemos que no eres el jefe. No dejes que te culpen por esto. No dejes que te vean como el que mató a todos esos niños inocentes. - We know that. We know it wasn't your idea. We know you're not the boss. Don't let them blame you for this. Don't let them see you as the one who killed all those innocent children.

Ayúdanos y te ayudaremos. Danos a Pablo. - Help us help you. Give us Pablo.

No puedo darte Pablo. - I can’t give you Pablo.

¡El siguiente es para tu cabeza! ¿Dónde la están reteniendo? ¡Habla, cabrone! - The next one is for your head. Where are they keeping her? Talk, Cabrone!

“¡Yo hablaré! ¡Yo hablaré! La Quica la tiene en una casa segura en Medellín. Sabían que estabas escuchando sus conversaciones, así que la trasladaron anoche. - I'll talk. I'll talk. La Quica has her in a safe house in Medellín. They knew you were listening to their conversations, so they moved her last night.

¿Dónde in Medellín? - Where in Medellín?

Pablo está declarando la guerra a Judy Moncada. Quiere que La Quica junte tanto dinero como pueda. Probablemente esté en movimiento con él. - Pablo is declaring war on Judy Moncada. He wants La Quica to gather as much money as he can. She's probably on the move with him.

Eso es todo lo que sé. Lo prometo. - That’s all I know. I swear!

¿La llevaste? - Did you take her?

No tuve elección. - I had no choice.

Aló. Meirda. ¿Quién es la mierda? - Hello? Shit. Who the fuck is this?

Hola, Quica ¿Cómo te va, amigo? - Hello, Quica. How’s it going, friend?

Hijo de puta. ¿Quien es este? - Motherfucker. Who is this?

Cálmate, Quica. No te pongas nervioso. ¿Que pasa, Quica? - Calm down, Quica. You don’t need to be nervous. What’s up, Quica?

¿Quién la mierda crees que eres, perra? - Who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?

¿Que pasa, Quica? ¿Qué hora es, Quica? ¿Qué estás haciendo, Quica? - What’s up, Quica? What time is it, Quica? What are you doing, Quica?

Bastardo. - Bastard

Tag List

@magneticbucky​ @larakasser​ @pedropascalownsmyheart​ @wander-lustbabe​ @frietiemeloen​

[etherealtauruss]

teenage dream (my missing puzzle piece, i’m complete)

read on ao3

this is for @loveyourownsmiilee, definitely wouldn’t have made a whole fic without their sweet comment

“Hey Eds!” Buck sang, placing a firm clap onto the boy’s shoulder, causing him to startle out of his thoughts. 

Eddie shook his best friend off of his body, shooting him a glare.

“First of all, ouch,” he said grimacing at the younger boy. “Second of all, how are you so perky?” 

He grimaced at the time on his phone. 8am. 

Eddie began to walk in the direction of Jackson High, his friend following suit. Buck shrugged while taking a bite of his blueberry muffin, offering up a piece to Eddie while a loose crumb fell from the corner of his mouth. The slightly older boy held up his palm to the younger. As much as he wanted to eat, he physically couldn’t. His nerves were getting the best of him. Plus, Buck made the muffin look absolutely disgusting.

He swallowed the remains of his breakfast, “It’s our first day, Eds. How could I not be?”

But it wasn’t just any first day. It was their first day of high school, and while Buck was known for his cool demeanor; it was insane that he wasn’t even the least bit nervous for this monumental moment.

Eddie felt sick to his stomach. It was like a repeat of 3rd grade. He’d be the loner again. He’d be unhappy again. Buck would find a new group of friends and they’d drift apart. His mind swirled with one too many worst-case scenarios. 

“You’re thinking out loud.”

“W-What?”, was all Eddie managed to squeak out. He hadn’t even realized he zoned out during Buck’s spiel.

“You’re going to be fine. We,” he gestured a finger between the both of them, “are going to be fine. You’ll make friends, I promise.”

“But what if I don’t?”

“You’ll always have me, Eds.”

“And I’ll always have you, Buckaroo.”

* * *

Buck waved Eddie over to a table filled with a fair amount of people. He made his way to the back of the cafeteria as he felt his heart leap into his throat. A rush of doubt flowed through his veins, but before he could get too consumed in his thoughts, Buck spoke.

“Guys, this is my best friend, Eddie.”

Everyone gave Eddie a welcoming smile to which the boy shyly waved. Buck patted the empty chair next to him 

“You saved me a seat?”

“I said I would always have you, didn’t I?”

Buck munched on his sandwich, “Besides, there’s no one I’d rather sit next to than you.” 

Eddie couldn’t help the blush that painted his cheeks as Buck’s last words hung in the air. He pondered at thought of them being more than best friends.

* * *

The boys took the only seats available when they arrived to their last class of the day. Buck was taken back, confused as to why Eddie of all people was in an introductory Spanish class. He brushed it off as a mistake when the teacher began to speak.

“Hola clase, soy la Señora Garcia. Let’s start with an ice breaker, en español, shall we?”

Her freshman class looked at her in bewilderment. In Spanish? But this was an intro course, most of the students had never even uttered a lick of the language.

Eddie spoke up, “Hola, mi nombre es Edmundo Diaz. Soy de El Paso, Texas. Vivo con mi mamá, mi papá, y hermanas. Mi mejor amigo Buck y su hermana Maddie son prácticamente familia, así que también se quedan mucho tiempo.” 

Mrs. Garcia threw a questionable glance between him and the golden-haired boy he was sitting next to. Even upon just meeting them, she knew this was the Buck that Eddie was referring to; plus, Maddie Buckley was in her class three years prior. So, she had seen Buck a few times during school events. The woman noticed the light blush creeping onto Eddie’s face as the silence within the classroom grew louder.

“Muy bien, Edmundo,” she replied, giving him pointed look over the brim of her glasses.

The woman could’ve easily had Eddie transferred into Spanish II, but she let him be. She remembered what it felt like to have a best friend that grounded you. Someone who protected you because you meant the world to them. Somebody to call your own.

She’d let this ‘mix up’ slide.

* * * 

“How did you manage to get detention again?” Eddie questioned, not looking up from the biology textbook.

“Apparently, I was being too disruptive during algebra. Can you believe that?”

Both boys met each other’s gaze and busted out laughing, earning them a shh from the librarian.

“You really need to stay out of trouble, Buckley.”

“Where’s the fun in that, Diaz?” Buck paused for a moment. “Besides, Mr. Turner loves me. He’ll let me go every time.”

Eddie shrugged. “Ready to head home?”

Buck nodded, and they began their journey to the Diaz house.

“What’s wrong, Eds?”

Buck always knew when something was wrong with Eddie. Between the mannerisms and the eerie silence, he could tell something was bothering his friend.

“Nervous for the test tomorrow,” he answered hastily while chewing on his lower lip.

“Don’t be. I understood this week’s lesson. I’ll help you study.”

Eddie let out a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. He gave Buck an amused smirk, “I know you want something in return.”

“I don’t want anything, per se…”, he trailed, “But if you wanted to help me with the Spanish vocabulary, I wouldn’t stop you.”

* * *

Before they knew it, football tryouts were among them. Trying out for the team was entirely Buck’s idea, and Eddie just went along with it. He was more of a baseball guy; but if it made Buck happy, he’d give it a go.

The first day of tryouts could best be described as literal hell, and that would be an understatement. Between the 4-mile warm up, 100 bear crawls, several drills, and 2-mile cool down; the boys were dead at the end. And yet? They made it to day two. By the end of the week, tryouts were finished, and both of them were on the team.

“Buckley, wide receiver”, coach called out.

“Diaz, running back.”

After the first game, they broke away from the rest of the team. It was tradition for the squad to eat as a group, but Buck and Eddie loved eating alone. They were heading to their favorite diner just a few blocks away from the Diaz household. It definitely wasn’t a date. Definitely not.

* * *

Buck called out to the team. “Alright everyone, bring it in.”

All the members huddled around their captains waiting for any comments to be said before they were released to the showers.

“So as many as you know we’ll be competing against Washington High this upcoming weekend,” Eddie began.

“With that being said,” Buck continued, “Defense I need you guys to be on your A game. Stop the runs of the other team as quickly as you can. The less downs they get, the better.”

“As for offense, can you guys stop playing for yourself, and actually play for the team?” Eddie replied. “There isn’t an ‘I’ in team, so stop acting like it. We need to show everyone at WHS that Jackson is not the team to mess with.”

“Any questions before we leave for the day?” Buck queried.

A small freshman raised his hand lowly. 

“Yes?” Buck furrowed his brows. He’d thought he’d made everything pretty clear. 

“Captain Diaz,” the freshman started, “What time should we be here for the game?”

“Um,” Buck let out a low chuckle, “I’m actually Captain Buckley, but my boyfriend’s last name sure does have a nice ring to it.”

A blush tinted the freshman’s ears and ran all the way down to his bare chest as the team let out howls of laughter. Eddie sneakily moved his hand that was resting on the small of Buck’s back and gave his bum a quick pinch. He muttered something along the lines of ‘tell him it’s fine’.

Buck swatted at his boyfriend’s hand, “It’s cool. People make that mistake all the time, Nick.” 

Nick forced a weak smile and rubbed the nape of his neck, murmuring a ‘sorry’.

The team broke the huddle to head to the showers, leaving Buck and Eddie to their own devices.

“Evan Diaz, huh? I could get used to calling you that.” Eddie pulled his boyfriend into a bone crushing hug, assaulting his face with wet kisses.

Deep down, Eddie knew that one day people actually would be calling Buck, Evan Diaz. But for now, being boyfriends that were so unapologetically in love was enough.

[gameforestdach]

In einem kürzlich veröffentlichten Finanzbericht kündigte Sega an, mindestens 12 Non-Mobile-Plattform-Spiele für das Geschäftsjahr 2023-24 zu veröffentlichen. Darunter befinden sich einige brandneue Titel, Neuauflagen älterer Spiele und Fortsetzungen von Bestsellern. Es sieht so aus, als wäre ein fantastisches Gaming-Jahr in Sicht! Sega plant, mindestens 12 Non-Mobile-Spiele im nächsten Geschäftsjahr zu veröffentlichen. Die besten Verkäufe des Unternehmens waren Persona 5 Royal und Sonic Frontiers. Zu den geplanten Veröffentlichungen gehören Sonic Origins Plus, Like a Dragon Gaiden Spin-off, Endless Dungeon und mehr. Sega wird auch Neuauflagen älterer Spiele unterstützen und seine IPs stärker auf den globalen Markt ausrichten. Die Top-Spiele von Sega im letzten Geschäftsjahr Sega hat mit Spielen wie Persona 5 Royal und Sonic Frontiers große Erfolge gefeiert. Die Portierung von Persona 5 Royal verkaufte sich über 1,7 Millionen Mal, während Sonic Frontiers 2023 mit mehr als 3,2 Millionen verkauften Einheiten abschloss. Starker Fokus auf Non-Mobile-Spiele Sega möchte sich im Geschäftsjahr 2023-24 auf globale, plattformübergreifende Veröffentlichungen konzentrieren, einschließlich 12 Non-Mobile-Spiele wie das bevorstehende Sonic Origins Plus, das Like a Dragon Gaiden-Spin-off und Endless Dungeon. Neuauflagen und Remaster alter Klassiker Darüber hinaus plant Sega, Neuauflagen älterer Spiele auf den Markt zu bringen, darunter das Remaster von Samba De Amigo, die Etrian Odyssey Origins Collection und das bereits erwähnte Sonic Origins Plus-Paket, das insgesamt rund 5 Millionen Exemplare absetzen dürfte. Unterstützung für Live-Service- und AAA-Spiele Das Unternehmen wird zudem Live-Service- und andere AAA-Spiele, die im vergangenen Jahr veröffentlicht wurden, weiterhin unterstützen, wie zum Beispiel Football Manager 2022 und das Remaster von Persona 5 Royal. Die Zukunft der Sega IPs: Globaler und mobiler Sega plant, seine IPs stärker auf den globalen Markt auszurichten und hofft, mit Rovio zusammenzuarbeiten, um die Prioritäten bei mobilen Spielen zu verändern. Wir können also gespannt sein, wie sich die Gaming-Landschaft in den kommenden Monaten und Jahren entwickeln wird. Fazit: Ein spannendes Jahr für Sega und Gamer Zusammenfassend ist festzuhalten, dass Sega im kommenden Geschäftsjahr mindestens 12 Non-Mobile-Spiele veröffentlichen wird, darunter Top-Titel wie Sonic Origins Plus, Like a Dragon Gaiden Spin-off und Endless Dungeon. Außerdem wirft das Unternehmen einen Blick in die Vergangenheit und bringt Neuauflagen älterer Spiele auf den Markt. Die Zukunft für Sega und seine Fans sieht also sehr vielversprechend aus!