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astro-rain · 3 years

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delicate; b. barnes

chapter thirteen - “sober desires & the reminiscence of a winsome smile”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4k

synopsis: wakanda gets a visit from our favorite captain, two drinks is too much rum for a reticent psychologist, and bucky knows (& feels) more than meets the eye.

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

[A/N]: this took so long to write but WHEW this chapter!!!! pls let me know what you think >:D

The knock on the outside of his hut was followed by a deep accented voice, one that he had heard before.

"Sergeant Barnes?" it called.

Quickly enough Bucky was outside, facing the king of Wakanda himself. He wasn't sure exactly what to say. You see, the majority of their past interactions included the Black Panther trying to kill him. T'Challa was kind and Bucky trusted him. It was just... a little awkward given the history.

"Your highness," he greeted.

He smiled bashfully at the title.

"I have some news for you."

Bucky's head cocked to the side, curious. News? Should he be worried? He hadn't been expecting anything.

"Captain Rogers is on his way here. He was alerted about our recent complication with N'Jadaka," he said, referring to who Bucky guessed was who Y/N called Erik Killmonger, "and he asked to come check in, make sure you're okay."

Steve was coming. His mood was immediately uplifted. He hadn't seen his oldest friend for months. It was weird to have Steve feeling the need to make sure Bucky was okay; it was usually the other way around. Nonetheless, he was excited. And he had the sudden urge to tell Y/N.

- - -

READER

"Sharon. Hey," she said into the phone.

The friends hadn't spoken since Y/N left for Wakanda - security measures since Sharon helped Steve and betrayed the... well everyone.

"Y/N!" Sharon greeted. "How is everything? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, no I'm totally okay. The Killmonger thing was more the royal family's deal than mine. I was just hiding out in some bunker with Barnes."

Concerned weaved its way into Sharon's voice. "Oh my god. Did anything happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, historically, stress hasn't affected him well..."

She wasn't sure why she almost got offended. "No... he was completely fine. He doesn't lose control out of nowhere and turn into the winter soldier. It's a lot more complicated than that... We were fine."

"Oh, that's good. Listen... I'm actually on my way to Wakanda right now."

"You're-... what?"

"Steve needed to check in on Bucky after Killmonger. Wilson and I are coming too."

They must all be together. It makes sense considering what happened after the disaster in Berlin, and then the airport fiasco in Germany and then... everything in Siberia.

Aw, they're in hiding together, Y/N joked in her head. She almost laughed out loud.

"Oh. Is that safe? For you? For everyone?"

"I've been careful. We've all been careful. But, things don't always go as planned. And T'Challa feels bad about putting you guys in a dangerous situation when he was supposed to protect you."

"It wasn't his fault."

"I know. We all know. But, it's kind of his way of making up for it: letting us stay so that Steve can check in on Barnes and we can cool off for a bit."

"Was Rogers mad?"

"Well, he wasn't thrilled that his best friend was trapped alone in a country that just got taken over..."

He wasn't alone.

"...he was mostly worried," Sharon continued. "Still is."

"Right."

"Alright, well I got to go. We'll be there in a couple hours."

"I'll see you. Be safe."

"See you."

- - -

BUCKY BARNES

"Hey Buck," the happiness in Steve's voice was genuine as he patted his oldest friend on the back in the middle of an embrace. "How you been?"

"A hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you, that's for damn sure," Bucky smiled.

Sam Wilson stood next to the star spangled man with a plan. Bucky briefly glanced at him.

"Wilson," he deadpanned.

"Barnes," he returned the greeting.

"I was worried when T'Challa told me about Killmonger," Steve said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that they let you stay here, but I just didn't think I'd have to be worried so soon."

"It's alright. Everything turned out okay and I was fine the whole time. You don't have to lose your head."

"I'm not losing my head."

"You never had it in the first place."

The blonde changed the topic of conversation.

"You were with that therapist right?"

"Yeah."

"What do we think about her?" he asked with equal parts caution and suspicion. "Do you trust her?"

Bucky wasn't sure why he was almost offended.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, you know what happened the last time you were with a psychiatrist..."

"Yeah well, this one doesn't have a personal vendetta against the Avengers."

"You sure she's alright?"

He looked serious, and Bucky could see the genuine concern etched into his friend's face. Steve was truly wary.

"I'm positive. She's helped so much since I've been here. I really trust her."

"Okay, if you say so. I trust you."

Bucky smirked. "Hey uh... is Sharon with you?"

Sam said nothing but radiated a smirk to match Bucky's perfectly, a kind of smirk that only a ball-busting best friend cracks.

"She is..." Steve replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh nothing. Just wondering, that's all."

"She said she wanted to talk to a friend."

"Oh, she's probably with Y/N."

"Who?"

"Y/N. Dr. Y/L/N. 'The therapist.'"

"I didn't know they were friends."

"Why do you think Sharon recommended her?"

"She said she knew 'the best' person to help."

"That true. She's crazy smart."

"As long as she can do the job, I'm all for it, no matter whose friend she is."

In a short-lived thought, Bucky wondered what Steve Rogers would think of who else Y/N was friends with. He wondered if Steve would think it was strange to be friends with your doctor, or if he'd be pleased that Bucky had gotten close to someone, anyone else in this world.

"How long are you guys staying for?" Bucky asked.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "Honestly, we were only planning on staying for like a week or so. We've been moving throughout Europe, and the other day, when we were in Prague... it was almost really bad."

"We need to stay low for a while," Sam added.

"What did you do?" Bucky asked, used to Steve getting himself into trouble.

"It's a long story..."

"What did T'Challa say about it?"

"He said to take as much time as we needed," Steve filled him in.

"You know, I'm startin' to really like this guy," Sam nodded, smiling. "Obviously when he went all cat murderer on you, he was a bit of a pain in the ass. But now? Guardian angel."

Bucky shook his head at Sam's nonsense. What an idiot, he thought. He wondered what Y/N would think of Sam, but then a more pressing question popped into his head.

"Where are you guys gonna stay?"

"I'm guessing there," Steve said pointing behind Bucky.

When he turned around, Bucky was shocked but he also wasn't. Behind and around his hut stood three more just like it, but slightly smaller. He could've sworn those weren't there yesterday, but that's the beauty of Wakanda. They were ten steps ahead of the rest of the world and he guessed that included speed building as well.

"I will never stop loving this place," he admired.

He tried not to sound too eager when he knocked on her door. She looked shocked but didn't really try to hide it.

"Oh," she sounded confused. "Hi, Bucky..."

"Hey," he grinned. "I have a proposition for you."

Her eyebrows lowered as her lips twisted into the most devilish smirk. She could communicate an entire joke with just her face.

"Not like that!" he exclaimed.

She laughed, smirk morphing into an endearing smile. "Like what then?"

"Steve wanted to have like a bonfire sorta thing to catch up since we're all together for once. You know, just like drinks and stupid stories from the forties. D'ya think you could part with your paper work to grace us with your presence?"

"Oh, uh... are you sure?"

"Of course. I'd love to have you there."

She wrung out her hands. "I don't know, Buck. Is that really appropriate? To have your doctor hangin' out with your friends?"

"That may be, but that's not what I'm asking. I want my friend to 'hang out' with my other friends."

Out of her composure seeped a meek smile. The air felt softer to him.

"And maybe you can analyze Wilson and tell me what his biggest fear is later," he added.

She snickered.

"Okay. Lead the way, James Buchanan."

The fire was a monster, roaring and crackling with all the life in the world. Bucky loved it. He loved the warmth, the heat, the lack of cold.

"I'm gonna get another drink," Y/N said. "You want anything, Buck?"

"I'm all set," he smiled, gaze lingering for only a second too long.

"Sharon?" she turned. "You?"

The blonde shook her head. "Oh, I think I've had plenty."

Surrounding the fire sat five chairs. All but one was empty as Y/N went to get her second drink. Of course they were in Sam's hut, Bucky thought. After all, even though it was Steve's idea, Sam was most excited about the whole thing, actually sitting down and just relaxing instead of fleeing from belligerent governments.

"Therapist's pretty," Sam noted with a smirk once she was out of hearing range.

"Y/N," Bucky corrected, mind going completely elsewhere. "She's so smart."

"Smart enough to call you Buck..." Steve said, catching on to Sam.

"What?"

"She calls you Buck."

"Yeah, so? You do too."

"Yeah, but I've known you longer. And I'm your friend."

"She's my friend too," he shrugged.

"She's your doctor..."

"And I'm a hundred year old man with one arm trying to get un-brainwashed in a country that the rest of the world doesn't even know exists. None of this is conventional."

"...fair," Steve said, with only a little bit of skepticism. "Are you guys close?"

Does spending hours alone talking with someone in a hidden bunker make you close? Does them comforting you after a nightmare and then subsequently allowing you to get the best night sleep you've had in forever? What about making daring voyages to quaint waterfalls and laughing a kind of laugh that makes your heart swell? What about-

"Buck?"

He shrugged. Again. "I guess so."

Sam narrowed his eyebrows. "How close?"

"Wilson," Sharon admonished exasperatedly. "Y/L/N's his doctor, come on. That's inappropriate to suggest."

Sam put his hands up in mock surrender. Briefly, just briefly, Bucky imagined kicking the leg of Sam's chair and watching him fall back. He didn't, obviously. But it would have been funny if he did.

The seemingly never ending conversation was cut short when Y/N returned, drink in hand, and took her seat next to Bucky.

"What'd you get?" he asked, demeanor subtly but swiftly changing into something lighter, something happier.

"I don't know, but it has rum in it," she shrugged sardonically before clinking her glass with Bucky's.

"Cheers," Sam raised his glass, trying to engage.

Y/N wordlessly, and with a half-smile, raised her glass in his direction.

"So," Steve started, comfortably crossing his legs and leaning back into his chair before asking Bucky, "you wanna know what actually happened in Prague?"

"Do enlighten me. I've been waiting all night."

"Jerk."

"Punk."

The rest of the night went on sort of like this. The group took turns telling stories and then listening. Cracking jokes and then laughing. Everyone but Y/N, Bucky noticed. She just... sat and drank, livelihood only extending to the borders of her seat.

He hadn't seen her like this before, and he found himself stuck halfway between confused and worried. Had something happened? Had something wrong been said?

He kept an eye on her as dusk melted into night. He told himself it was because he was concerned, but that was only in addition to the way he was magnetized to how she looked with the light of the fire gleaming on her skin.

After she would finish a drink, she'd stare into the fire for a little while, before leaving to get another. When he made sure no one was looking at him, he'd look at her. Discretely. At her eyes. The reflection of the fire in her pupils made him wonder if she would burn the fire before it could ever burn her. He was all too aware of the heat that accompanied her gaze. It was a ravishing burn that made him ache for the searing feeling as soon as it was taken away.

He didn't dare think of it for too long or else he would get distracted. And someone would call his name, pulling him out of a trance he didn't want to be caught in. A trance he wasn't sure he wanted to admit that he was in.

The night remained as such until someone - he couldn't remember who - said they were tired, and everyone bid their farewells, and wished their good nights.

Y/N spared about a side hug to Sharon before walking off on her own. Bucky half volunteered, half insisted on tending to the fire to make sure it went out, only to ignore it as soon as everyone was gone and follow after his psychologist.

He caught up to her as she was in the middle of opening the door to her living quarters.

"Y/N."

She turned around in the spot, door wide open, staring up at him.

He bore into her eyes, looking at something, noticing her dilated pupils and hazy stare.

"You're drunk," he said, but it sounded more like a question.

"Yeah."

"But you don't seem drunk?"

"I'm not wasted," she padded into the room, carelessly leaving the door wide open for him to walk through. "Just drunk enough to remember why I didn't drink in college."

She rubbed her eyes.

"Think I want another one," she sighed, heading for the door with a bitter smile. "More rum."

Bucky gently closed the door, maneuvering himself in front of it, and blocking her from exiting. Another drink is definitely not a good idea.

He changed the subject. "Why didn't you drink in college?"

Her eyebrows raised, introducing a look that said Really? You think I don't know what you're doing?

"Wow, look at you being the voice of reason for my otherwise inebriated brain."

Nevertheless, she cooperated.

She sighed. "It just... makes me miserable. I'm a sad drunk."

"Better than a mean drunk," he offered.

"Possibly. It's a real mood killer, though."

"That why you were off all night?"

"Off... ? I don't know, I guess so... I'm usually pretty inconspicuous when I'm drunk. Didn't think anyone would really notice."

There was no hesitation when he spoke.

"I did."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry. Just... why did you keep drinking if it only makes you miserable?"

"Alcohol is a depressant," she breathed mechanically, as if speaking was difficult. "It depresses your nervous system, then you get disinhibited. Then you don't care about rationality and just drink! Then in the moment it feels kinda good... but then it makes you sad... and then you need more to blur the feeling away. It's like... the worse you feel, the more you need to drink... but then the more you drink... the worse you feel..."

"How are you drunk but still talking... sorta still like you usually do?"

She smirked, looking like she was trying not to laugh. He was glad she was smiling.

"Maybe you're not the only one with heightened metabolism as a result of the serum..."

He looked at her quizzically, amused. She wasn't making total sense, but he couldn't find it in himself to give much of a damn. She smiled, again.

"Kidding. I just have outstanding self-control."

She plopped down on the floor, deciding that she no longer wanted to use her legs. Fine motor function was overrated for intoxicated people.

He sat down with her, next to her.

"If I tell you a joke will you be less sad-drunk?"

"I already am 'less sad-drunk.' I wasn't before, but," she took a breath in, "now you're here, so... improvements have been made."

"That's good 'cause I was worried before."

She glanced up at him with brazen eye contact. Her face held a mixture of what looked like a confused and pained expression, as something changed. Some sort of realization or reality check.

She wiped her hands over her face. "God, this is so ridiculous. I'm sorry. You shouldn't be worried about me, that's not your job. I'm sorry. I should just go to bed, and you can leave..."

"I know it's not my job. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I was alright- it... it's not like I was crying at the fire or something. I was fine."

"After your second drink, you were silent almost the entire time."

"You were counting my drinks?"

Not exactly.

"I was paying attention."

"To what?"

To you.

"You completely turned into yourself. Your elbows and legs were drawn in close to your body: unrelaxed and almost apprehensive posture. You were nonverbal, didn't make any jokes, no sarcastic commentary. I was literally purposefully saying things I knew you would correct or tease or laugh at and nothing. I was waiting for a 'smartass' or a 'there's a reason behind everything' explanation or anything science related. But there was nothing."

Her face was blank. It took her a second to catch up. Blinking slowly, she shook her head, eyebrows furrowed, all emphasis on the word. "Why?"

Her tone was truly confused. It was like she, in her heart of hearts, for the life of her, could not believe he was concerned.

"Y/N you're my friend," he chided. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She averted her gaze. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know."

"Look," his voice was soft. "I know you know everything and you know my mannerisms and micro-expressions and you know when I'm lying and whatever else 'cause you're a genius psychologist. But is it really that hard to believe that, after all the time we've known each other, I know you a little too? That I saw you for once instead of you always seein' me?"

"I think you're the only person who sees me."

The words leaked out before he thought to analyze them, tone lower than a whisper.

"Well I can't seem to look at much else."

He had never felt such potent silence. Did he just fuck up majorly? They just sat, on the floor, eyes glued to each other like twenty year old dried cement. He didn't think he could move away if he tried.

"I see you now," she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"Blue," she breathed. "Your eyes are so blue. I don't... think I've ever seen that shade of blue."

It happened exponentially slowly, but the closer her face got to his, the more his chest felt like it was going to burst in the best way possible. As if liquid light poured into his lungs, inflating his chest and igniting every nerve with adoration.

Her lips hovered over his so lightly it was as if it wasn't even happening, like her affection was a ghost. But it was happening, and he could feel it. He could feel the softness in her lips and the smell of the rum she drank as they combined into the wondrous dual sensation that permeated throughout his brain.

They weren't kissing by any stretch. Their lips were hardly touching. However, in that moment, he was at her mercy. He was prepared to bend the laws of nature to her will if she would allow the continuation of this feeling for even a fraction of a second more.

Until it stopped and she waned away like the moon bidding adieu to the morning sky.

Her voice shook. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't... it's-"

"No. It's not okay. It's not okay."

He leaned back, examining her face. She looked confused and embarrassed and scared.

"Y/N, it's fine. It's okay, seriously, don't worry about it."

"I'm sorry, I'm... I'm drunk and I'm disinhibited and it's affecting my judgement and making me impulsive. I'm sorry."

He couldn't be exactly sure, but it sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince him.

Neither of them moved a muscle.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

She was silent, frozen. It reminded him of a past conversation about the fight or flight response.

Bucky stood up and offered his hand to the woman sitting on the floor in front of him. "Here."

She took it gingerly and stood up with him before wide eyes stared into his apologetically.

"Please don't feel bad," he pleaded. "Barely anything happened."

"Still..."

"Why don't you just get some sleep and we can talk tomorrow. I promise it won't seem like such a big deal when you're sober."

She nodded but they both remained motionless, hands still together. He knew they needed to let go, but her hand didn't move, and she just kept looking into him.

"Okay," she whispered.

She walked him to the door, hand still in hand, and until he was forced to let go of her to open it. He stepped, ever so slowly, out of her room and onto the grass outside. He looked up at her, the doorway between them suddenly feeling like worlds of distance. They stood on opposite sides of the open door like statues. Bucky didn't know what to do and he wasn't sure what to say.

He settled on a, "Goodnight."

He tried not to make it sound so weak and timorous but he failed entirely. He didn't want to leave her like this. Guilty and alone. God knows he knew what it felt like.

Her voice was dry and quiet. "Goodnight."

He wasn't sure when the door shut or which one of them had shut it. The only thing he was sure of was the feeling of formidable regret pooling in his stomach.

On one hand, there was regret for letting her lean in and get so close because now he was scared that their dynamic was ruined and worried that Y/N felt awful. On the other hand, there was regret that he just let her pull away. Regret that he didn't lean in more and shamelessly drown in her. Regret that he didn't unapologetically suffocate himself with the softness of lips, the inebriating smell of rum on on her tongue, and the utterly bewitching taste of her he was sure would follow.

He wasn't sure what he felt, to be honest. He was a muddle of emotions of which he had no idea how to sift through. Momentarily, he wished he was drunk so he wouldn't have to think so hard. Then, he remembered the saying, "drunk words are sober thoughts," and he was damn glad he was stone cold sober; he could only imagine the things he would say to her if he was drunk.

This lead him to pondering, it got the gears in his brain turning. It made him wonder. Maybe... just maybe... if drunk words were sober thoughts, then what if drunk actions were sober desires?

Thinking like this could cause him read the situation completely differently. Thinking like this could make him read the situation in such a way that conceived the slightest sliver of hope for emotions gone repressed. Hope is dangerous...

Hope is dangerous, so Bucky shoved it down into the deepest cavern of his brain, the very same cavern where his feelings for her resided. It was a monster in a cave, growling and hissing menacingly. Intensely.

It scared him, this intensity. It scared him so much that the only way he could fall asleep was by thinking about the way James Buchanan sounded when she said it with a winsome smile.

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rax-writes · 3 years

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Family Man

Fandom: MCU Pairing: Baron Helmut Zemo x OC [basically a reader insert, because the OC’s physical description isn’t addressed or anything, she just has a name] Warnings: None Notes: A Sokovian woman named Irina Molnár was born with the ability to teleport, and in time, she encounters the only man to gain her trust enough to show him. It just so happens that the man in question is the criminal mastermind Helmut Zemo. // So, as I said, it’s an OC but still basically a reader insert; don’t let the OC part deter you if you prefer x reader fics. It just worked better for me on the writing end to use a name, and I have an aversion to using “Y/N,” so I just threw in a pretty name. // TL;DR: Zemo as a dad just kills me & I wanted him to get a second chance at a family.

“I will assist you to the utmost of my ability, on one condition.”

“You’re in no position to be making demands, Zemo.”

“This is both for my own benefit, and yours, I assure you.”

If someone had asked Irina ten years ago where she thought she’d be at this point in life, her answer would have been incredibly far from accurate, for nothing could have predicted the path her life took.

Not that her life had been normal to begin with, being that she was born with the ability to teleport. Sokovia was not exactly a progressive country in the late 1980’s, so her parents had endlessly instructed her to conceal her ability, warning her of the countless dangers of her power being known to others. Her parents were so protective of her that when she teleported as a reflex at age thirteen, after walking along the sidewalk of main street in Novi Grad and a driver fell asleep at the wheel and headed straight for her, they packed up and moved to Russia in the middle of the night. Yet again, the same thing happened at age eighteen, when she was caught up in a hostage situation in a bank and the perpetrator caught her calling the police. Just as he aimed his gun at her and pulled the trigger, she disappeared. Irina and her parents fled to Germany in the dead of night less than twenty-four hours later, and she knew then that she needed to suppress her powers no matter what, being that her father was elderly, and her mother was too ill for them to ever travel again.

So, Irina settled into a normal life in Munich. She worked various odd jobs over the years to support her parents, made and lost a few friends, dated here and there. Her father passed when she was twenty-two, and two years later, her mother joined him. When living in the house where both her parents passed in their sleep became too unbearable, she packed up and moved to Berlin, getting a job at a high-security prison there. Less than a year after she began working there, a newcomer arrived: an inmate by the name of Helmut Zemo.

Being that he knew so much about HYDRA, from his extensive research on them, the American organization SHIELD wished to know more about them. A few psychiatrists and some professional interrogators tried for the first couple months, but they got nothing – quite literally, as he refused to utter a single word to any of them. Irina’s boss knew that she was Sokovian just like Zemo, so she was asked to extract any and all valuable information she could from the new prisoner.

Zemo was an intimidating man; calm, cool, and collected at all times, with eyes like a hawk that bore into Irina’s very soul each time he looked at her. She spent two months talking with him every other day, trying anything and everything she could to get him to talk, but he remained silent. At first, she tried asking him questions outright, but he wouldn’t ever say a word – just stare at her with those cold, calculating eyes. So, Irina changed her approach; they would chat idly in Sokovian to build rapport via their shared mother tongue, or she would ramble about her day, what book she was currently reading, her favorite movies, dates she went on. Those topics got him talking, chatting with her about the miscellaneous subjects she brought up, and both she and her supervisors took it as a good sign. She found that they shared similarities in terms of the loss of their families, and how the destruction of Sokovia hurt them both. Despite how frequently they spoke, he still never revealed anything of importance. After two months, her boss had a few interrogation experts give her some training, so she tried their tactics for another month, but she still got nowhere with him.

Three months after Irina began trying to get intel from Zemo, she sat down in the chair outside his cell, and huffed out a sigh.

“I’m afraid this will be my last visit, Zemo.”

“Why?” His voice held surprise, and a tinge of sadness.

“As you know, they assigned me to visit you for the sake of getting information from you. I’ve been consistently empty-handed over the past four months, so they’re giving up, assigning me back to regular patrol duty.”

“Will I still see you?”

“No. They’re moving me to the women’s side of the prison next week.”

Zemo simply stared at the ground in silence, hands clasped in his lap. Irina allowed the silence to linger for several minutes, then pulled something from her bag, unlocked the small opening on the side of his cell where guards gave him meals, slid the item through, and locked it shut again. He eyed it for a moment before standing and retrieving it, sitting back down on the bed as he looked at it.

“It’s that book I told you about last month, the one you said sounded interesting. Consider it a parting gift.”

He still said nothing, gaze locked on the book cover. Irina cleared her throat and stood, putting her bag on her shoulder as she looked to Zemo one last time.

“It has been nice getting to know you, Zemo. Take care of yourself.”

As Irina pulled open the door to leave, Zemo’s voice called out, “Wait!” She turned to face him and found that he was standing, clenching and unclenching his jaw as if he were thinking, before stating, “Tell your superiors that I will give them one piece of information on HYDRA every two months if you will have lunch with me twice each week.”

Irina’s brows raised in surprise, but she nodded in understanding. “I’ll pass the message along, Zemo.”

“Please… call me Helmut.”

The higher-ups were more than happy to agree to his terms, as long as Irina was okay with them as well, since it involved her. But she wasn't stupid. She told them that it felt like quite an undertaking to agree to such a thing, she had been considering looking for another job in the near future, etcetera. Naturally, they offered to double her pay to persuade her to commit to the arrangement, and it was then that she agreed. In truth, it was no skin off Irina’s nose to do it in the first place. As deranged as it was, Zemo had become her friend, her only friend, and she quite enjoyed talking with him. And even more deranged – bordering psychotic, really – she had developed a bit of a crush on him, finding him to be dangerously handsome and intelligent, so she certainly had no quarrels with agreeing to spend time with him.

Time seemed to fly when Irina began her twice weekly visits to Zemo. She found herself eagerly awaiting their lunches, and she always stayed longer than necessary. She would have rather eaten glass than admit it, but she frequently put a bit more effort into her hair and makeup on the days she would be seeing him.

God, I’m fucking pathetic, Irina thought to herself at least once a week, and yet it never stopped her.

It was another few months later when he said something that made her stomach drop to the pits of hell, and a cold sweat to break out on her skin.

“I know who you are, you know. I have since you first introduced yourself. Irina Molnár, the disappearing girl – at least, that’s what the headlines called you. I remember reading about it when I was a teenager, but the story was forgotten within a week.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Irina replied, but Zemo could hear the quiver in her voice.

“My apologies, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I have no intention of mentioning it to anyone besides you. I have simply been wondering… were the rumors true? Can you really just disappear into thin air?”

When Irina hesitated, he added, “Irina, no one would believe me if I told them, and even if they did, they would have no way to prove it. Besides, we have been acquainted for nearly a year now. You are my only solace in this living hell. I would have gone mad had you not came into my life. I would never do anything to risk you harm.”

She exhaled slowly, and looked at the ground when she said, “It’s not ‘disappearing.’ It’s teleporting.”

Zemo leaned forward in his seat, visibly invested in her confession.

“I’ve been able to do it since I was four. Scared my parents half to death when I suddenly appeared before their eyes, having been across the house mere seconds before. I learned to control it pretty quickly, but that day in Sokovia… I was only ten years old, and a car was coming right at me, full speed, so I panicked. I teleported home right before it crushed me, and it would have been a non-issue if my classmate hadn’t been a few feet away and saw the whole thing. He ran his mouth to the press about my identity, so we had to leave.”

“That was why you moved to Russia, not because your father got a job there,” Zemo realized, remembering when you initially told him about your move and falsified the reasoning.

“Yes. It happened again there, when someone shot at me. No one who was around at the time knew my name, so it never made it to the press, but my parents were overly cautious, so we fled to Germany. I’ve not done it since, besides in the comfort of my own home.”

“Show me.”

“You say stupid things for such a brilliant man, Helmut,” Irina said, nodding toward the camera in the corner of the room.

“After you get home tonight, teleport into my cell.”

“Did you miss what I said about the camera, or…?”

“The camera does not have a view of my bed. It only reaches the middle of my cell, not the very back of it where the bed is,” Zemo pointed out, and Irina realized that he was right. She had been in the camera room several times; the camera there did indeed only show the room and half of his cell, never the bed.

“I’ll think about it.”

Zemo smiled brightly, looking excited, like a little kid about to see a magic trick. That alone was enough to motivate Irina to do it, just for the opportunity to see that smile again. So, when she got home that night, she changed into a flowy, deep green sundress, touched up her makeup and hair, strapped on a nice pair of sandals, and then stood in her living room, hyping herself up to take such a risk.

There was a chance that she would get caught. Teleporting in front of anyone was always a risk, no matter what, her parents had always told her. But then that damned, dashing smile crossed Irina's mind, and before she had time to second-guess herself, she was standing at the foot of Zemo’s bed.

The book he’d been reading flew out of his hands as he practically jumped out of his skin, falling to the ground with a loud whack, and he pressed a palm to his chest as he tried to calm his erratic breathing.

“We really should have scheduled a specific time for your arrival,” he muttered, and Irina laughed softly. Thankfully, the cameras had no sound, but if a guard were passing by outside, they may have heard her. When he caught his breath a moment later, Zemo sat up in the bed, letting his legs hang off the edge as he patted the spot beside him. Irina took a seat, crossing her legs and leaning back on her hands.

“So, you were telling the truth. You can actually teleport,” Zemo observed, eyeing her with amusement and interest before he bombarded her with questions. “Can you teleport anywhere in the world? Are there parameters for your distance or location? How long does it take you to travel from one place to another? What does it feel like?”

“I can teleport anywhere I’ve been to or seen photographs of. I cannot do it blindly. The distance nor location does not matter, as long as I have seen my destination before. And it feels like… a slight tingling sensation, all over my body, but it only lasts until I arrive, which takes about a half second.”

“Fascinating,” Zemo whispered. He licked his lips before asking, “Are you capable of teleporting another individual along with you?”

Irina frowned at him. “I’m not breaking you out of prison, Helmut.”

“I didn’t ask that.”

“No, but you were alluding to it,” she countered, and he shrugged. “I can teleport another individual, but only over small distances. Each time I’ve tried, the most distance I’ve gotten with another person has been about ten yards.”

“Perhaps with practice, you could go further.”

“I practiced for years, and ten yards seems to be the true limit. Besides, the only others who have ever known about my ability were my parents, and since they’re gone, I have no test subjects.”

Zemo nodded solemnly, then asked, “What about teleporting repeatedly, in ten yard increments?”

“Tried that. Can only do it about three times before I’m too drained to do it again. Teleporting back-to-back with another person takes a lot of energy,” Irina answered, then added, “And again, even if I could, I am not breaking you out.”

“I am merely interested in your mutation, that is all,” Zemo retorted. Irina shot him a look that said ‘Really?’ so he relented with, “Perhaps also because I wanted to know if you could break me out, but that’s neither here nor there.”

"That's what I thought."

It was another month before either party made a move. They were sitting on Zemo’s bed, side by side, as Irina told him about her day at work, and the man who'd tried hitting on her in the grocery store earlier that evening.

"He thought he was very Rico Suave, but his execution was a nightmare."

"How so?"

"Well, for starters, he followed me around for nearly ten minutes while he worked up the courage to say something. He waited until I walked past him and greeted me with 'Hey, sexy lady.'"

"Oh no," Zemo said, grinning as he looked genuinely amused at this man's poor tactics, although his amusement was contingent upon whether or not Irina was actually interested in him. The way she poked fun at the man indicated a lack of interest, therefore, he was enjoying her tale.

"Oh yes. He then asked if it hurt when I fell from heaven, which is the most overused line in the book, yet he said it with such confidence. And then – get this – he leaned onto what he thought was a shelf, but it was actually a stacked display of cans, which toppled over and sent a hundred soup cans flying down the aisle."

Zemo chuckled, prompting Irina to continue.

"He played it off by saying that my beauty is just so distracting that he didn't even realize what he was doing, and then asked for my phone number."

"Did you give it to him?"

"Absolutely not," Irina said, laughing softly and shaking her head. Zemo was momentarily entranced by the way her beautiful hair fell around her face, and the sound of her laugh.

"Why not?"

"Not my type."

"What is your ‘type’?"

Irina leaned back on the wall behind her, looking up at the ceiling as she thought carefully. "Confidence, but not cockiness. Intelligence. Wit. Sarcastic senses of humor. Men with a sense of passion to them; some kind of fire and gusto about something, whether it be their work, art, music." She looked over at Zemo then, and allowed her gaze to travel slowly up and down his form. "Currently, my type seems to be men I can't have."

Zemo eyed her carefully, allowing himself to absorb her words fully for several moments. She was describing him – he just knew it. Or, he was too blinded by hopefulness and desire to realize that she wasn’t, but he figured there was only one way to find out. So, he leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and pressed his lips to hers.

Irina hesitated for half a second, surprised by his actions, but she recovered quickly and kissed him back. It was gentle, sweet, and explorative, both parties simply enjoying it while it lasts. Neither had any idea how long it lasted, as time stood still. Zemo was the first to pull away, eyes scanning Irina’s face as he looked at her with sheer adoration, as well as a touch of nervousness.

"I understand if you wish for me to never do that again, and I understand if you'd prefer to never see me again. But please know that I did not do that out of blind lust, or anything other fleeting emotion. I did it because my heart has yearned for you every day since first meeting you, and finally having you here next to me, where I can touch you… it was genuinely unbearable to hold myself back from kissing you. I have not felt anything like this since losing my wife, and I did not think my heart was capable of ever feeling it again. But you proved me wrong. I know I am risking an end to the only true human contact I have while trapped inside this cell, which truly frightens me, but the unyielding desire to tell you that I love you overpowers that fear."

Irina stared at him in shock for a few moments, before leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. She exhaled slowly as she collected her thoughts before speaking. "Helmut… I love you, too, but I don't know how this would even work. You're never getting out of here. How can we have any kind of relationship when you're locked in a cell for the rest of your days?"

"We will make it work, my darling," Zemo said, sitting up straighter and turning to face her. "I will ensure that we mimic a true relationship as much as possible. I cannot wine and dine you as I would like to do, but I can easily bribe the guards to have lavish meals brought here for us to share on evenings such as these. I cannot take you out for birthdays or anniversaries, but I will ensure that you are showered with gifts on those days. My angel, I cannot give you a normal life, but I can promise to endlessly strive to make you happy."

Irina stared deeply into his eyes for what felt like an eternity, and she saw nothing but genuity, longing, and adoration there. She could feel the sincerity in his words, feel how desperately he wished for her to agree to his proposal. She was no fool; she knew that their relationship would be a struggle, and she knew that it would never be any resemblance of normal. But she also knew that he made her heart soar in a way no other man ever had, and that she would die feeling like she missed out on something incredible if she walked away from Zemo now.

“Okay,” Irina whispered, mostly to herself, before repeating it in a stronger, more self-assured voice. “Okay.”

For a man who always knew what to say, Zemo was at a loss for words, overcome with joy. He simply cupped her cheek and kissed her, far more passionately than before, allowing his triumphant and ecstatic feeling to flow through the kiss. Irina gripped the front of his sweatshirt in her fists, melting into him, before wrapping her arms around his neck as his free hand moved to rest on the curve of her waist.

Ages had passed by the time they broke apart, foreheads resting against each other as they fought to catch their breaths. Irina was the first to break the comfortable silence they created, laughing quietly in disbelief at the events that had just transpired. Zemo followed suit, a deep, velvety chuckle bubbling up from his chest. He pressed another kiss to her lips before leaning back and looking at her. They gazed at each other in sheer contented bliss for a few moments more, before Irina became the first to speak.

“I love you, Helmut.”

“And I love you, darling.”

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

The sound of the front door opening caused Irina to immediately look up from the book she'd been reading. She frowned, then stood and headed for the door as quickly as possible, calling out, "Nikolai! You know better than to open that door, young man!" When she reached the entryway, she stopped dead in her tracks.

There stood Helmut, wearing the softest, sweetest smile she'd ever seen as he opened his arms to her. She hesitated a moment, unsure whether or not it was real, before he murmured, "Hello, my love." His voice – that alluring raspy undertone, and the gentleness it took on as he spoke to her – broke Irina from her trance, and she ran to him and into his arms, careful of her rounded belly.

Zemo stroked her hair and held her, and her arms around his neck gripped him like a vice, to the point that it hurt a little, but he'd never tell her that. A small sob fell from Irina's lips before she even realized she'd started crying, and he whispered sweet nothings in her ear in Sokovian to soothe her, about how much he loved her and how happy he was to see her. When her crying quieted down a bit, he pulled away to kiss her, a kiss full of love and longing. When he broke the kiss a few moments later, she stroked his cheek lovingly, and he wiped the stray tears from her eyes.

"How are you here? What happened?" Irina asked, and only then did she notice the two men standing awkwardly by the doorway, their faces a mixture of suspicion and surprise. "Who are they?"

"They are the men who helped me escape. James was previously known as the Winter Soldier, and Sam is currently known as the Falcon, an Avenger."

Irina raised an eyebrow at him. "But… you… the Avengers… the Winter Soldier…."

"I know, I know. I am just as surprised as you are, but they need me for something, something very important."

"The Flag Smashers? I saw them on the news. They have Super Soldiers somehow."

"Yes, darling, exactly right. We'll find them, defeat them, and I'll be back before you know it."

Irina understood the implication of his words. He'd be back, but whether that would be in her home or in his cell was yet to be determined. But she knew him. She knew that he would not take his newfound freedom as a one-time opportunity. A storm of thoughts about what that would mean for them flashed through her mind, but Zemo’s hands on her stomach snapped her out of it.

"How is our daughter?" he asked, gently rubbing Irina’s baby bump, a bright smile blooming when the child inside kicked at his hands, as she always did. She had only been in existence for seven months, and she wasn't even born yet, but she already favored him over her mother.

"She's good, she's been moving around a lot today, as if she knew her Daddy was coming," Irina replied, earning a grin from Zemo. "The doctors told me this morning that her heartbeat is strong and she appears to be the picture of health."

"Good, good. And what about –"

"DADDY!" a tiny voice bellowed from down the hall, and they turned to see a small boy running full speed toward Zemo. Irina stepped back to allow him a clear passageway, smiling as Helmut crouched down to meet him, enveloping the boy in an embrace as he collided with his father's chest.

"Nikolai, I've missed you," Zemo stated, rubbing the boy's back as he stood, still holding his son. Irina caught the way her husband's voice wavered when he said that, and she laid a comforting hand on his back.

"I've missed you too, Daddy. Are you living with me and Mommy now?" Nikolai asked, leaning back in his father's arms to gaze at him with excitement plain on his face. Zemo gave him a smile, but Irina could see the sadness in it, knowing the future was uncertain.

"Not quite, buddy. Just here for a visit," Zemo replied, and Irina rubbed his back comfortingly before pressing a kiss to their son's temple.

Their family time was interrupted by Sam clearing his throat loudly, and when Zemo turned to face him, his smile faded.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Zemo, you've got some explaining to do, and not much time to do it. Don't forget we're on borrowed time here."

"Right," Zemo confirmed, then exhaled slowly. "James, Sam, this is my wife Irina and our son Nikolai…. He is five, and Irina is seven months along."

Confusion washed over both men's faces, and they exchanged a glance before the other, James, was the first to speak.

"But… you've been in prison for eight years. Have you been escaping every few years and no one's noticed?"

"I have not left my cell in eight years, consecutively. But my wife is capable of getting into my cell as often as we wish."

"So, what? You've just been having conjugal visits all the damn time? And the prison staff green-lit that?" Sam asked.

"No, not exactly," Zemo answered, then glanced at Irina. They shared a look before she explained further.

"I can teleport. I met Helmut when I was tasked with extrapolating information about HYDRA from him, and he refused to share anything unless the prison staff agreed to let him meet with me twice a week, just to chat, in which case he'd give them tidbits of information bi-monthly. They agreed, and before long, I revealed my ability to him. I'd visit him in his cell occasionally, because the cameras only show half of it. Over time, well… we fell in love. Nikolai came a few years later, and now…" Irina trailed off, then rubbed a hand over her pregnant belly.

"Why didn't you ever bust him out?" James asked.

"I can only teleport small distances with another person, and I can only do it twice at the most, so we'd have never made it off the grounds."

James and Sam were silent for a moment, absorbing the information they'd been given. Sam was the first to break the silence.

"Zemo, you said this little pitstop would benefit me and Bucky. But it's not like she can go with us," he said, sounding a bit irritated as he gestured towards Irina’s stomach. "So what the hell was the point?"

"It does benefit you. You now possess the knowledge that a teleporter exists. Congratulations," Zemo said dryly, then looked at his wife and son for a moment, before returning his attention to the men. "Sam, the point was that I lost my family when Sokovia was destroyed, and the family I have now has only ever seen me inside a prison cell. I wanted my son to have at least one memory of his father in his home with him."

James – no, Bucky, apparently – and Sam exchanged a look, before Bucky sighed and looked to Zemo.

"You have one hour. Sam and I will be guarding the exits, so don't try to escape. If you do…." He trailed off after glancing at Nikolai. "Let's just say it won't be pretty."

True to their word, Sam and Bucky remained stationed outside the home, one out front and one out back. Zemo milked that hour as much as possible, spending most of it in his son’s room with him and Irina, listening intently to Nikolai tell him all about what’s been going on at school, his favorite shows, the trip he took to the zoo the day before with Irina, etc.. He even told Zemo about each and every one of his toys, simply enjoying talking to his dad, and although Zemo was the one to send almost every one to him, therefore he already knew about them, he didn’t mention that. He simply listened intently as his son spoke, enjoying the quality time with him, exchanging smiles and occasional kisses with Irina. She showed him the nursery she’d been working on for their daughter, and he finished putting together the crib she’d started, Nikolai happily handing him parts and screws as needed. Zemo also moved the dresser and changing table to where she’d wanted them but couldn’t move them herself, then they settled into the living room shortly before the hour was up.

Sam and Bucky reentered the house to find the family sitting around the coffee table, playing a game of Jenga. They stood silently in the doorway to the living room, watching as Nikolai carefully drew a block from the tower before placing it back on the top with a triumphant look on his little face. Zemo commended his concentration, then drew a block himself, although he intentionally wiggled it a little so that the tower came toppling down.

“I won! Daddy, I won!”

“Yes, you did, my son. Excellent job,” Zemo said warmly, then glanced at Sam and Bucky before scooping the boy up into a tight hug. “Daddy has to go now, but I will see you again soon.”

“Do you have to go?”

“I’m afraid so. But I need you to promise me something before I leave. Take care of your mom for me, will you?”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good boy,” Zemo said with a smile, then kissed Nikolai’s forehead and set him down. Zemo stood and helped Irina stand up, hugging her tightly as he buried his face into her neck. Quietly, so that no one but her could hear, he said, “I will not be going back to prison unless there is no other way, but know that yours and our children’s safety is my utmost concern.”

“I know, Helmut,” Irina whispered back, and he pressed a long, lingering kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, my angel,” Zemo murmured against her lips, then stooped down to hug his son again. “And I love you, Nikolai.”

“I love you, too, Daddy,” the boy responded, and the way his voice quivered as he choked back tears broke his parents’ hearts into a million pieces. Reluctantly, Zemo let him go and he wrapped his arms around his mother’s leg, resting his head against her as he sniffled and she rubbed his back.

“Be safe, sweetheart,” Irina commanded.

Zemo nodded to her before walking over to join Sam and Bucky. With one last heartbroken look at his family, he left, closing the door behind him as he let out a shaky breath. He didn’t meet the other men’s eyes as he walked over to the car, and after they all piled in, they drove in silence to the airport, off to their next stop in Madripoor.

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

@henrysmorgan @clints-lucky-arrow @therenlover

#apologies to therenlover if you dislike being tagged; you mentioned some dad!Zemo stuff recently so it made me think to tag you #if you'd rather not be tagged in anything just let me know; i won't be at all offended!#also the same goes for you Mack #Chase you don't get a choice bc you catalyzed my love for Zemo + you're my best friend so you are obligated to deal with me #zemo #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #zemo fan fiction #zemo fan fic #zemo fanfic #zemo fanfiction #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo fan fiction #baron zemo fan fic #baron zemo fanfiction #baron zemo fanfic #baron zemo fic #baron helmut zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo fan fiction #baron helmut zemo fan fic #baron helmut zemo fanfiction #baron helmut zemo fanfic #baron helmut zemo fic #helmut zemo fanfiction #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo fan fiction #helmut zemo fanfic #helmut zemo fan fic

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Out Of Time ~ 111

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,900ish

Summary: Captain America: Civil War (sorry if this chapter isn’t that dramatic.... I can promise the next one will be....

Notes: make sure that you have read chapter 110. That chapter didn’t have the taglist with it.

Steve and Sam eventually made it out with an unconscious Bucky in tow. Hidden in some abandoned building. Steve was watching through a gap at a chopper flying overhead.

“Hey, Cap!” Sam called. Steve went over to join his friend, who was near Bucky. Bucky was sitting with his arm in a vice.

“Steve,” Bucky said.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asked.

“Your mom’s name was Sarah… You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”

“Can’t read that in a museum.”

“Just like that, we’re suppose to be cool?” Sam questioned.

“What did I do?” Bucky asked.

“Enough.”

“Was Y/N…”

“The whispers is that you attacked her.”

“Oh, God, I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”

“Who was he?”

“I don’t know.”

“People are dead. The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don't know.’”

“He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where.”

“Why would he need to know that?”

“Because I'm not the only Winter Soldier.”

~~~

Slowly blinking, Y/N let her eyes focus on her surroundings. She was on a plane. A Stark plane. She felt someone’s hand on hers. She looked over to see Tony’s hand on hers, head hung low.

“Where—“ She swallowed. “Where are we going?”

“Oh my—“ He quickly stood up and held a kiss to her forehead. “You… I can’t even… You shouldn’t have gone near him.”

“I had to try…”

“Doesn’t matter. His life is not worth yours.”

“Where are we headed?”

“Home.”

Y/N watched Tony for a second. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.” She sat up. “They got away, didn’t they? And you’re going to go after them.”

“I have to.”

“Please, Tony, stop this before it’s too late. Don’t wait until someone gets hurt and the team is completely destroyed.”

“I just doing what I have to do. And so should you.”

“What should I do?”

“Stay at home until this is all settled.”

“You’re going to keep me as a prisoner? Keep me locked away. You can’t to that.”

“That’s why I’m not telling you where I’m going. To keep you safe.”

“To keep me safe, or to keep me from protecting Steve and Bucky?”

“To keep you safe! Y/N, damn it! Look at your neck! Those bruises are in a literal shape of a hand! I don’t think they’ll disappear for weeks. Your precious Bucky did that to you, and I won’t let it happen again.”

“Tony, if you do something to harm them, either of them, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Tough sweetheart, because I’ll never forgive myself if you get hurt like that again.”

~~~

The compound was all but locked down. Vision and FRIDAY were both keeping an eye on both Y/N and Wanda. Y/N was worried about where Steve, Bucky, and Tony were, and if they were being stupid. Y/N and Wanda weren’t able to fall asleep, so they were in the kitchen. Vision was hovering in the corner, seemingly asleep, or as asleep as an android can be.

Suddenly, the three were on alert. An explosion in the distance lit up the room for a moment. They hurried to the window to see another explosion near the fence line.

“What is it?” Wanda asked.

“Stay here, please,” Vision pled before disappearing.

Once Vision was gone the two women sensed a different presence behind them. Wanda compelled a knife to fly across the room. They turned to see it stop in front of Clint’s head and him flick it away.

“Guess I shoulda knocked,” he commented.

“Oh my god!” Wanda exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Disappointing my kids.” He shot arrows to both sides of the room. “I’m supposed to go water skiing.”

“Clint,” Y/n called, the worry extremely evident. “What’s going on?”

“Cap needs our help,” he answered, grabbing Wanda’s hand. “Come on.” Wanda grabbed Y/N’s hand as they began to head out of the room.

“Clint!” Vision greeted, appearing through the wall behind them. “You should not be here.”

“Really?” Clint retorted, him and the others turning back around. “I retire for, what, like five minutes, and it all goes to shit.”

“Please consider the consequences of your actions.”

“Okay, they’re considered.” Suddenly, the arrows Clint previous shot, catch Vision in a force field. “Okay, we really gotta go.” Wanda stepped towards Vision as Clint grabbed Y/N’s hand. He began to led her to the door. They stopped when they noticed Wanda wasn’t moving. “It’s this way.”

“I’ve caused enough problems,” Wanda responded, nervously playing with her sleeves.

Leaving Y/N at the door, Clint jogged back over to Wanda. “You gotta help me, Wanda. Look, you wanna mope, can go to high school. You wanna make amends, you get off your ass. Shit.”

Vision broke the force field with the Mind Stone. Quickly, he punched Clint to the floor, but Clint recovered.

“I knew I should’ve stretched,” Clint groaned.

He extended a baton and tried to hit Vision but the blows went right through him. Clint resorted to punches before trying the baton again. It broke. Clint tried to kick Vision, but his leg wen right through him. Vision then quickly got Clint into a headlock.

“Clint, you van’t overpower me,” Vision warned.

“I know I can’t,” Clint responded. “But they can.”

They look up to see Wanda and Y/N standing side by side, Wanda’s red glow between her hands.

“Vision, that’s enough,” Wanda said. “Let him go. We’re leaving.”

“I can’t let you,” Vision replied.

Wanda held her hands apart, glowing with energy, forcing Clint to slip from Vision’s grasp. He grabbed Y/N and pulled her away as Wanda forced Vision to the ground.

“How far a long are you?” Clint whispered.

“What?” Y/N gasped, looking at Clint with surprise.

“My wife’s had three kids. I know the tells.”

“Five weeks.”

“Does anyone know?” Y/N shook her head. “Then you’re staying here. I’m not putting you or the baby in harms way. And I know Steve wouldn’t want that either.”

“No, I can—“

A crash is heard. They flinch as they turn to see that Wanda as forced Vision through several floors of the compound.

“If you stay here,” Clint turned back to Y/N, hands on her shoulders, “I won’t say a word. If you come or follow, I’ll tell everyone and they’ll force you to stay put anyway.”

~~~~

Vision disappeared out of the hole not long after Clint and Wanda had left. Y/N couldn’t stop worrying, pacing, rounding every inch of the compound. FRIDAY had blocked her from being able to contact any of her teammates or watch any news channels. It was late into the afternoon of the next day when she finally was contacted. She had just barely fallen asleep on the couch when FRIDAY announced the incoming call.

“Y/N?” Natasha panicked voice filled her room. She was immediately on alert.

“Nat? Are you okay? What happened?”

“It got bad. There was a fight at the airport in Berlin. Sam, Clint, and Wanda are in jail. Bucky and Steve made it to the quinjet to go—I don’t even know where.”

“What? How did this happen?“

“And Rhodey was extremely hurt. Tony’s in the other room waiting for the results, but it doesn’t look good. I think he’ll go after them next. The only way to stop him is if you go with Bucky and Steve to wherever it is they’re headed. Tony will trust you if you’re with them.”

“Nat, I don’t—“

“I’m not asking you to pick a side. I’m asking you to save your family.” Y/N’s hand went straight to her stomach. “To save your child’s family.”

“How did you…”

“You were in the bathroom for way too long, Y/N. And I’ve noticed how your hand falls to your stomach. Do they know?”

“Only Clint and you.”

“You need to tell them before it’s too late.”

“I know… Thanks for the information, Nat. I’m assuming you helped them escape.”

“I did. Have to go on the run now.”

“Stay safe, Nat.”

“You too.”

The call ended and Y/N took a deep breath. Bucky and Steve had taken a quinjet from Berlin, the same quinjet Y/N had arrived there in. So she could create a portal there. It was just bracing herself for the inevitable vomiting that would follow. Opening the portal, she rushed through, stumbling into the quinjet.

“What the—“ Bucky immediately turned around, pointing a gun in Y/N’s direction. He lowered it when he saw her vomiting in the corner. “Y/N?” He hurried forward, kneeling beside her. “How did you— are you okay?”

“Y/N,” Steve rushed to her other side. A hand found the way to her back, gently rubbing up and down. “What’s going on?”

“I’m… I’m… fine…” she panted. She straightened up, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “I’ll be fine.”

“Is there something going on with your powers?”

“I’m fine, Steve, really. How are you guys?”

“Really Y/N?” Bucky questioned. “You just appeared through a portal and began to vomit. I don’t think you’re okay.” As he looked her over, his eyes found their way to her neck. “No,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” His flesh hand came up, hesitant to touch the bruise. Y/N grabbed his hand and led it to her bruise. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine, Buck. I’m okay.”

“I promised to never hurt you and I keep doing it. Leaving for war, falling into HYDRA’s hands, back in DC, now this…”

“Bucky,” Steve called, slowly, watching the interaction. “How much to you actually remember?”

“I remember Y/N the most. Not everything, but I remember the feelings when we were together the strongest.”

“You remember me the most?” Y/N repeated quietly.

“Something happened the moment we met eyes in DC. Things kept creeping back.”

“Oh, Buck.” Y/N quickly wrapped her arms around Bucky. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, doll.”

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Steve asked, again.

She pulled away from Bucky, so that she could see both men. “Nat called me and told me what happened. I came to help.”

“You know that you can’t go back after this, right?”

“I may be able to get us all home safety and talk everyone down. I just need to see this through to be able to explain it and help the cause.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky said, shaking his head. “I think you are safer staying in the quinjet.”

“Not a chance, Buck. If there’s a way I can bring you home, I’m going to do it.”

“I don’t think I’m worth all this.” He looked down into his lap.

Y/N guided her hand under Bucky’s chin, gently guided it up so that they were looking into each others eyes. “I think you’re worth it. I always have.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #iron man x reader #captain america x reader #the winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader #marvel imagine #tony stark imagine #avengers imagine #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers imagine #marvel #marvel fanfiction #captain america civil war #civil war

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echo-three-one · 3 years

Text

Whatever It Takes

Sequel to A Forgotten Memory

Now facing an internal battle between her heart and mind, Samantha faces her fears and searches for the truth. Will she accept the past? Will she listen to her heart? Or will she let her memories get the best of her?

Chapter 10 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Previous Chapter : Roach - A SurPRICE Visit

What is this o.O

The Heart knows what the Brain Doesn't

Samantha Coleman

141's High Value Individual

Task Force 141 Base - General Shepherd's Office

The base was quiet. Everyone else fled off to their mission and all Samantha could think about is Alex. But why? Maxine told her he wanted to meet him, but Alex told her it's because she dropped her pendant. Whose story is she going to believe in? She could feel her heart beat differently ever since she saw him with General Shepherd. Her whole body except for her brain reacted to his presence. She even felt weak after slapping him, it's like her brain commanded it but her hands wanted to disobey. Who is he?

Maxine passed by with an apple she got from the kitchen counter.

"Sam, you okay?" she asked, biting the fruit and sitting in the chair across from her.

"I've been thinking… about how you knew Alex and how she knows me…" she sighed, it was relieving to let out all her bottled thoughts, especially that now they're both alone.

"Well, we met in a bar. Had a few drinks then showed me a photo of you." she said, holding her hand.

"I honestly believed he did know you and tried to lengthen the conversation, just so I know he's good enough and knows a lot. He actually aced the test but he was very drunk when I told her to meet again. After that He showed up the next day and I had to work. Whatever happened after my shift was- ow." she interrupted herself because of a minor pain from recalling her memories. She still hasn't been able to remember all of them, even after a lot of sleep.

"Yeah. That's about it on your side. Mine's just that… He looked creepy, his eyes felt like he was looking for me in a weird way and so I ran. After that life continued. You went on a leave and I resumed working." She supplied, staring at the grey walls of the mess hall.

"I wish I'd remember where I went on that vacation. It'd be cool." Max commented, crunching on another bite.

"My heart… beats differently when he's near. It's like he's really familiar." She whispered.

"Oh. Someone's been struck by the Cupid. He is attractive though. Without those ink, he'd probably be your type." Max teased, winking at her and nudging her. Samantha was serious, though.

"Look. I admit my heart feels something for him. It's a mix of guilt and longing. But why would I long for someone I just met?" She sighed and dropped her head on the table, groaning as her mind and her heart battled against the inconsistencies.

"Look. It's not too crowded here. Maybe we could do some research by their library!" Max suggested, creating finger guns and humming the Mission Impossible theme song as she stood up and went to the library. Samantha chuckled.

"So we're spies now?!" She placed a hand on her forehead as she followed her wacky best friend.

Maxine typed down Alex on the search bar, his public profile appeared and they began reading his file. It was all basic ideas, Nationality, Height, his name was redacted and they couldn't bypass it so they just ignored it and headed to the next term.

"CIA Agent Alex helped locate and detain CIA Mole." Samantha read with her mouth. Maxine quickly clicked the article and photos of her appeared on almost every page.

Unlike Maxine, these notes didn't hurt her mind except it hurt her heart that she treated him that way, after all this time. He was there to save her. He located you through Maxine to save you from the same captors that played with your brain months ago.

"Ooooh. It says here you two were safely housed in a remote safehouse for almost a month. Really Sam? Maybe something happened within that time? Can you please remember how he looked underneath those clothes. For me?" she giggled. Samantha knew she was joking but it was an honest possibility.

Could it be that she fell for the guy that saved her and sat with her for almost a month? Or the two of them fell in love? Her heart was racing as the possibilities overloaded her brain, her cheeks started to blush as her thoughts consumed her. This wasn't her mind talking to her, it was her heart. It's reminding her of Alex.

"Oh. Shit." Maxine muttered and Sam snapped back to reality, putting her hand on Max's shoulders and looked into the screen once again.

Due to a special favor promised by Samantha's father, he has authorized to apply an MK Ultra procedure to her, whose main intention is to Alter her memories of the IP Address along with the events that happened prior to kidnapping.

"You agreed to forget him?" Max looked at her, a frown formed as she started to console her.

"I guess so… Maybe something happened between us." She sobbed. She didn't want to cry, but the realization set in on her. They met, they bonded and she forced herself to forget him. No wonder Alex felt sad after being slapped.

"I want to ask him about us." Sam said with determination. Maxine liked the confidence but was also concerned about her feelings.

"What if you wanted to forget him, that's why you did it? Would you be ready to feel the sadness all over again?" Maxine asked. Samantha paused for a while. She made sense but her gut is telling her to push through her initial plan.

"I'm sorry Max, but I made my choice. I have to know everything about us, Whatever it Takes." she said.

"I'm here to support you. After all, you're the only memory I have left. They took everything. I don't know why but my memory began when I moved in. That's where my story started. Maybe there's a reason for it so, here I am for you. You're my family." she said, hugging her tight.

"Well, you could add a few more people in your family." she smiled.

"Yeah. It's full of tough looking brothers ready to protect us. And one soft Gary." she noted.

"He is a sweetheart, huh?" Samantha asked, getting a hint of something else from her.

"Well, he talks a lot and he gets me sometimes. It's a shame he's always out there saving the world." Max chuckled. Samantha froze.

"I know you want this to work..."

"This is our proposed digital art for our ad…"

"... and I know in my heart that I do too…"

"The colors need to be more vibrant!"

"...but I can't live loving you with worry in my heart..."

"I'm staying a little bit longer, See you tomorrow!"

"... and I don't want to be the reason that you'll stop saving the world. I know you want that. It's your job to. It's what you built your whole life to become..."

Her head started projecting two realities, it confused her. Which was right and which was wrong? She knew the work one was right, but the memories she just made right now while crying in front of Alex made more sense. Which was real? Which was fake?

"Sam! You okay?" Maxine snapped her fingers and Samantha blinked rapidly.

"I'm going crazy Max." she panted.

"What's wrong?" she consoled.

"My memories. They're all wrong. Why did I agree to this?" Samantha continued breathing heavily.

"Well, for starters. It's to forget that IP Address you memorized as a kid."

"But why did they change the recent ones too? Did I decide that my time spent with Alex is worth forgetting? Did he break my heart or did I break his?" She sighed. She knew for herself that she was unable to love again because of her loss, but what if Alex made it right for her? Alex did something that helped her move on? That's why her heart felt yearning for him?

"Sam. I'm no love doctor but if this really bothers you, you should talk to him. I have no idea when they'll get back but I'm looking forward to your resolution." She patted her shoulders and gave her a soft hug. Samantha felt like crying, but why?

After a while, Samantha actually had the courage to ask about Alex's whereabouts. Word has it that he's being redeployed to Germany to investigate another alleged Augustus base and that they had no idea when he'll be back.

This worries Samantha because they already heard about a transfer of authority, which in simple words meant : You're leaving the base. And that meant she won't see Alex anymore.

Maxine and Samantha sat on their beds at the infirmary to recover once again, both of them fell quiet as the news they got started to bother them. They already got attached to the people in the base and were sure that they're going to miss them. All they could do is hope that the team gets home before they leave the base.

“You think Alex will be okay?” Samantha shifted her sleeping position to Maxine, who was still awake humming to soothing melodies. Maxine shifted to face her too and smiled.

“You’re worried.” She teased, making her smile and giggle.

“Well, my heart told me I have to worry…”

“That’s normal. And don’t you worry ‘bout a thing… He’s a tough guy, remember? He’s trained to survive such harsh conditions. That’s what his file said, right?” She reminded Samantha, giving her an assuring smile. Samantha shrugged off her worry and closed her eyes. She started to imagine what it felt like being with him, based on information from his file. She can’t help but smile at her crazy idea. She felt like a teenager all over again, obsessing herself on fictional characters she watched on TV, since she could only base his personality on words alone. But she did remember how his cheeks felt, from the slap, and placed her palm on her cheek as well. It felt like he was with her and her heart felt excited as she awaited for his return.

Next Chapter : The Berlin Tower

NOTIFICATION SQUAD MY BELOVED ❤️

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

#omg the picture I'm Sorry I tried #codmwfic #whateverittakes #alex echo 3 1 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #gary roach sanderson

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cockslutpadalecki · 4 years

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Back To The Movies Writing Challenge

To celebrate cinemas now open again in the UK and my trash can of a blog reaching 8K, here’s another little challenge for you!

RULES

Fandoms you can write for: - Supernatural (Sam/Dean/John) - The Walking Dead (Negan) - MCU (Steve... at a push Bucky, definitely Stucky (w/reader) heheh). - Knives Out (Ransom Drysdale).

Smut/fluff/angst and any and all variations of those tropes are welcome.

Non-con/dub-con is allowed as are most things except toilet stuff and underage. That being said, please tag your warnings accordingly.

Word limit is 2K. Anything over 500 words needs a “read more” tab otherwise it will not get reblogged.

Any POV is cool with me.

Please send me an ask to let me know which song choice you have picked.

Two people per song choice, but I am willing to open it up further if necessary,

Genuine entries only please. I’m done with people signing up and then not submitting anything. It’s incredibly frustrating and I don’t really have the time to chase you for your entry. However, if you do sign up and then can’t fulfill your prompt, please let me know so I can let someone else have it.

Please use the tag “#backtothemovieschallenge” in the first five tags and tag me in your author's notes.

If I haven’t reblogged your entry within 48 hours, send me an ask or DM to give me a nudge.

Closing date is October 1st. If you need an extension, please let me know.

Have fun!

SONGS BEHIND THE CUT

Not all of these are the ‘staple’ movie soundtrack song like I had originally planned, but hey if it’s a musical it still counts right?

(SONG - MOVIE - ARTIST)

Don’t You Forget About Me - The Breakfast Club - Simple Minds - @miss-nerd95 (@bucky--barnes)

Shallow - A Star Is Born - Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper - @jennmurawski13

Ashes - Deadpool 2 - Celine Dion - @abbirae99

It Must’ve Been Love - Pretty Woman - Roxette - @letsby

Can’t Fight The Moonlight - Coyote Ugly - LeAnn Rimes - @crashdevlin

I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing - Armageddon - Aerosmith - @nikki-writes-stuff

The Boy Next Door - Meet Me In St. Louis - Judy Garland - @holylulusworld

Everything I Do (I Do It For You) - Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves - Bryan Addams

Show Me Heaven - Days Of Thunder - Maria McKee

I Will Always Love You - The Bodyguard - Whitney Houston - @thoughtslikeaminefield

As Real As You And Me - Home - Rihanna

Anthonio (Berlin Breakdown Version) - The Guest - Annie

Gotta Go My Own Way - High School Musical 2 - Vanessa Hudgens

Take My Breath Away - Top Gun - Berlin - @nekoannie-chan / @angryschnauzer

Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now - Mannequin - Starship

Broken - The Punisher - Seether and Amy Lee - @angrythingstarlight

Rewrite The Stars - The Greatest Showman - Zac Efron and Zendaya - @mummybear

I Want You To Want Me - 10 Things I Hate About You - Letters To Cleo - @deanmonandnegansbitch / @chuuulip

There You’ll Be - Pearl Harbour - Faith Hill

There Are Worse Things I Could Do - Grease - Stockard Channing - @peridottea91

I Don’t Wanna Live Forever - Fifty Shades Darker - Zayn Malik and Taylor Swift - @moosekateer13

Stand By Me - Stand By Me - Ben E. King - @finleyjayne

Stay - Reality Bites - Lisa Loeb

Signal boost?

@negans-lucille-tblr @princessmisery666 @mummybear @manawhaat @thoughtslikeaminefield @crashdevlin @holylulusworld @fictionalabyss @chuuulip @impala-dreamer @pink1031 @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @nikki-writes-stuff @kellyn1604 @letsby @imanuglywombat @threeminutesoflife @pinknerdpanda @there-must-be-a-lock @deanwanddamons @becs-bunker @itmighthavebeenintentional @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @finleyjayne @daisysouthmoore @s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s @irrelevantwriter @dontshootmespence @deans-baby-momma @ohwowreallycool @smol-and-grumpy @deanmonandnegansbitch @kittenofdoomage

#back to the movies challenge

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differenceenginegirl · 4 years

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Everything seems a little dark and scary at the moment, so I have complied a list of links to cultural and/or educational things (and some just streams of cute animals, or just plain fun) that are available to watch or listen to or do for free (mostly) online. Some of these will only work for the duration of the current situation (marked with a *), but most are permanent (so far as I know) so can be kept around for a little bit of sunshine on a rainy day.

Feel free to add to this with your own links or ideas, and remember, we’ll get through this together (with the appropriate social distancing). Follow the advice that’s been given, wash your hands, and be kind to one another.

The majority of links were brought to my attention by @theyahwehdance, @elleflies, and @buckysleftarm (plus a bit of a deep dive through my drafts). Under a cut because hoo boy it got long...

(Some links in the linked lists may be broken, some may be region-locked, and some may be duplicated, I haven’t checked them all.)

Culture and Education!

The Metropolitan Opera, free nightly (19:30 EDT, 23:00 GMT) broadcasts of operas, available for 20 hours following the broadcast too. (Schedule for the first week)*

Berlin Philharmonic: 30 days free access to their virtual concert hall (redeem before 31st March 2020)*

Playbill have compiled a list of 15 professionally recorded musicals you can watch at home (Not all free) and are inviting people to join them in watching Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Cinderella Starring Lesley Ann Warren on 20th March at 20:00 ET! (video may be region locked)

12 highlighted virtual museum tours and a whole load of others from around the world!

Science Twitter, a series of Skype with a Scientist virtual lectures! (A sign up with an email is required through the link in the tweet, running from 12:00-14:00 EST, (16:00-18:00 GMT)

30 virtual field trips! Links to virtual tours and live cameras of many different places! (Aimed at kids)

Animals!

Cincinnati Zoo Facebook Live virtual safaris, every weekday at 15:00 EDT (19:00 GMT)* Completed safaris will be posted to their website shortly after the Live finishes, and also kept on their Facebook.

Live Monterey Bay Aquarium Cams: 10 different cams showing various tanks and enclosures, and the bay itself!

Live San Diego Zoo Cams: 9 different cams showing various creatures in their habitats!

Atlanta Zoo Panda Cam

Danish Sea Eagles Cam (this site in Danish, and may go dark, as the equipment is solar powered): A live feed of a Danish Sea Eagle nest!

Peregrines in Norwich and Bath!

Live Animal Cam, Ohio: A cam focused on a feeding station, with night vision so the feed continues even after the sun goes down! (This shows wild animals, so there is no guarantee that you’ll see creatures)

Shedd Aquarium let their penguins out to explore! (Under supervision) More exploration here!

Two Oceans Aquarium did too, and look at these little cuties on the stairs!

A livestream of adoptable kitties!

And here’s a thread with some of these cams, and more!

Music!

Various people (started by cellist Yo-Yo Ma) playing/sharing music that comforts them on Twitter.

Virtual High School Musicals! (Original Thread) (Wider Hashtag) Many High School kids are now finding themselves unable to perform the musicals they’ve been working so hard on, so Laura Benanti invited them to video themselves performing and share it with her, so they still get to perform for an appreciative audience! (Some of these are absolutely stunning!)

Never before heard Hamilton track demo!

A playlist of Quarantunes on Spotify, compiled by Rita Wilson (Tom Hanks’ wife)

A playlist of 101 Feel-Good songs on Spotify, compiled by @lanamlouise

This guy made a really cool instrument out of PVC pipes!

A group of engineers in Stockholm turned a set of stairs into a piano to encourage people to use them rather than the escalator!

Stories!

Josh Gad reads a bedtime story (Olivia goes to Venice) with voices!

Various celebrities reading kids stories, as part of a charity initiative to keep kids fed during school shutdowns.

A bunch of free short stories, essays, audio and video by the wonderful author @neil-gaiman (Plus two photos of him in an ancient hat!)

Find your local indie bookstore and support them while also getting a new book! (US only)

And of course, you can’t leave out the marvelous Archive Of Our Own for fanfiction and fanworks for almost every fandom you can think of! (Remember to make use of the tags and filters to narrow your search or avoid things you don’t want to see/read!)

Food!

A recipe for Norwegian Christmas Butter Squares! (Apparently like sugar cookies, but in bar form and better)

A fudgy brownie-in-a-mug recipe!

A really nice chocolate pudding (in the British sense, so like a cake) with spiced chocolate sauce! (I love the whole cookbook that this is from, and it’s especially good for Discworld fans. Available from various sellers, I have linked my favourite money-sink, the Discworld Emporium: Nanny Ogg’s Cookbook)

My favourite biscuits (cookies) to make! Honey and cinnamon, with a picture book (Honey Biscuits by Meredith Hooper) that you can read alongside to explain to kids where all the ingredients came from!

Creativity and learning new things!

LUNCH DOODLES with Mo Willems! (13:00 ET weekdays, videos remain post-stream) Aimed mostly at kids, but don’t let that stop you doodling with the Kennedy Center Education Artist-in-Residence!

A little list of doll makers/dress-up sites!

How to take really good photos of the night sky with a phone! (Please continue to observe social distancing rules while taking your pretty pictures)

Fancy making a language? Here’s a site with resources to help you get going with that!

A long list of sources of inspiration, arty websites, and some that are just fun!

Make your very own Peaches the Mouse by @my-darling-boy!

Want to learn 3D modelling? Fusion360 is free (for hobbyists and students) and professionally used, with a good network of tutorials and an, imo, fairly intuitive interface! (I use this a lot)

Want to play with Photoshop but don’t have the money? Here’s a free, in browser version! (Has ads, but they’re unobtrusive)

Want to try your hand at creating a sim? The Sims 4 Character Creator Demo is free! (Limited options, but still fun to play with)

Whether you play D&D or not, this is a really cool custom miniature creator, with loads of options that are being constantly added to updated! (And if you have the money, you can get it in a printable format, or printed for you in a variety of materials!)

Fancy learning something new? Memrise has a load of free courses, ranging from real languages like French or Spanish for beginners to fictional languages like Quenya (one of the Elven languages from LotR) or Klingon, or trivia bits like Harry Potter Spells or Noble Houses in Game of Thrones, and many more! (Available in multiple languages, although not all courses may be available in all languages)

Ever fancied trying to build armour or cosplay props from foam? R31 Studios has you covered with free PDF templates for all sorts of bits!

Meditation and Calm!

60 second meditation tool! Put a worry into a star, and watch it float away with a calming soundtrack and

Meditation with Lizzo!

Customisable Rain Sounds!

Customisable Train Sounds!

And many more customisable noise generators!

Play with liquid/particles! (Warning: this one made me feel a bit motion-sick, but pretty!)

Interactive generative art!

Random bits I couldn’t catagorise!

Don’t want to dine alone? Have dinner with the Gaffigans!

A series of Mildly Interesting images from @catchymemes!

A group of stuntmen doing Super Mario!

Another list of Good Links (Really well organised!) by @secretladyspider!

@thelatestkate draws wonderfully reassuring cartoons! (On Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook too!)

World Record Egg Instagram! Lots of nice little positive cartoons.

Happy news from The Happy Broadcast on Instagram, The Happy News, and HuffPost Good News!

Here’s an ongoing list of good stuff by @pftones3482! (Check the notes for more good stuff, and the latest addition)

Some feel-good browser games!

And finally, a little frog here to give you some reassurance!

#positivity #feel good #happy things #reassurance #link list

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cherrybloomn · 4 years

Text

Delicate - Chapter 3

Note: ok Chapter 3 is here. Your opinion is always welcomed (criticism included!). Its my first stoey ever so please be kind. I know I have much to work on, but I hope that it will get better and better.

I would like to thank very (VERY) much @musings-sans-muse and @shellbilee for your support, help, ideas, everything! You girls rock!!

Thank you @oddsnendsfanfics for your encouragement!

Warnings: swearing

April 2020

Naomi spent the whole March shooting her show in Berlin (as there was a theatre festival) and preparing the charity event for children. She managed to schedule everything– the place (Hyde Park), the catering, the guests. Obviously, everything was cancelled due to coronavirus restrictions. Everyone was forbidden to go to the tv studio, so Naomi worked on the new scripts of the episodes, watched movies, wrote reviews of new plays, etc.

Since their last lunch, Naomi had been regularly in touch with Henry, mostly via WhatsApp. They have met a couple of times. The more she talked with him, the more she liked him. He made her laugh. But not only that. He seemed to care about others, yet had this reasonable attitude - often saying that you can’t change the world alone.

She valued him for being the voice of reason. They have known each other for only two months, yet she told him a lot about her family and difficult relationship with her father (who was a real - life spitting image of Logan Roy from The Succession), her issues with James, her weird fascinations of criminal stories about murderers and disappearances and the II World War.

One day she had just come home and put the groceries on the kitchen island, when her phone buzzed. She picked up the video call. Henry. The thought of seeing his face and talking to him always shifted her mood. “Hello boy. Give me a moment I need to wash my hands. I’ve just been out in a bad, bad store.” She giggled and headed to the bathroom with her phone, placing it next to the sink.

“Of course. I can see your tits now, by the way. No worries though, I enjoy the view.” He chuckled lightly. Naomi rolled her eyes and quickly moved the phone to the higher counter. She took a minute to study Henry’s face. Something was off. She couldn’t tell if he looked sad or tired. It was off though. She was wondering why. In this very moment she also realized that he was one of very few people, who were… important to her. Not in a romantic kind of way. No. Naomi didn’t date, she didn’t want to build a relationship with any man, not anymore. Still, he was important.

“Helloo..” Henry waved his hand from the other side of the screen.

“I’m sorry. I thought of my round, perfect, little tits. Changing the awkward subject, how are you doing in times of isolation? You look tired. Is everything ok?” Naomi dried her hands with a towel, grabbed her phone and headed to the kitchen. She placed her phone on the kitchen island, leant on her elbows and focused on the phone screen.

“I’m fine. A bit anxious I think. Not my best day today. That’s why I’m calling. I expect to hear some entertaining story about your crazy childhood.”

She laughed, and thought for a moment. “I’m not in the mood today. You know, I almost got a role in the Moulin Rouge musical in the Old Vic. I mean I did get the part of Satine, and I was so excited, as it would be my debut after all these years. Unfortunately, they called today that due to the lockdown, the project has been entirely called off.” She shrugged “At least Netflix doesn’t disappoint. There’s the Money Heist premiere today.”

After a second she added “Join me today! Look I know it’s illegal, alright? But I can promise we will keep the two – meter distance. I can offer you good whiskey and whatever meal the chosen restaurant could provide. Except for pizza and other carbo shit. I’m on a low-carbo diet. You know I’d love to say I’m one of those women who can eat everything because they’re so cool and don’t care about their looks or have a wonderful metabolism. But unfortunately, I’m not them. My metabolism is my enemy and I do fucking care about how I look because the CEO of BBN asks about my weight like once a month.” She smiled at him “So, take it or leave it.”

“I take it. I can cook something if you want. Oh, can I take Kal with me?”

“Cooking – ok. Sounds cool. Kal – Henry, in general of course. But you need to keep in mind I’ve got two Pomeranians – and as much as they love people and small dogs, they sometimes hate the big ones. So, bring Kal with you and in case there’s war, I’ll take Marilyn and Audrey to my neighbor.”

They discussed the details about the dogs’ meeting and decided to meet at 6 pm. Naomi took her time to call her mum and friends, take her dogs for a walk and take a shower. Afterwards she applied a bit of makeup, put on her black Nike leggings and white tank top. She let her hair loose so that it could dry quickly. Just after she poured herself a glass of water, her phone buzzed and Henry informed, he’s waiting outside with Kal. Naomi called her dogs and all of them headed to the small park near her apartment. Naomi couldn’t stop laughing when she spotted Henry with the Salvador Dali mask on – a kind of tribute to Money Heist, which they were going to watch.

Unfortunately, just as Naomi thought, there was no love between Kal and Marylin. At least Audrey accepted the big bear immediately. Naomi decided to take Marylin to her neighbor, and the rest of them headed to her place.

Much to Naomi’s surprise, Henry cooked a delicious dinner, and they spent the whole evening watching five episodes of the Netflix series. Being her kittenish self, Naomi gently touched Henry’s knee with her toes from time to time. “Heey… relax.” She said with a smile. “I can tell you something nice, wanna hear?”

Henry raised his eyebrow and looked at her with a smirk “Go on, entertain me.” He gently rubbed her ankle with one hand, the other one was supported on the back of the sofa.

“Alright..” Naomi closed her eyes for a moment and enjoyed the delicate massage. Finally she looked him in the eyes. She smiled shyly and turned her face away, “Henry.. Do remind me please, is your dad a boxer?” She asked coyly.

Henry seemed a bit puzzled “No, no. Have I ever said that he was?”

“Well no...but damn, I’m asking because you’re such a knockout!”.

They both burst out with laughter.

“What a cheesy pickup line, I love it! Where do you know that from?”

Naomi started to play with her hair “Well, it happens to me all the time” she joked. “It’s nice to see you laughing.” She added after a second.

At around 3 a.m. they decided it was really late, so they were to terminate their evening with just one glass of Jack Daniels (due to her diet Naomi didn’t drink alcohol, but promised to have a goodbye drink).

Naomi brought two glasses to the living room and sat on the sofa. Henry was sitting on the opposite side. Once Naomi extended her hand and handled him a glass of whiskey, he slowly grabbed the glass with one hand and held her wrist with another. “What a massive rock!” He said, looking closely at her two - carat diamond engagement ring. He gently caressed her knuckles with his thumb. His touch, ever so gentle made Naomi shiver. Something about it felt so wrong and so right at the same time. “Has James proposed to you? I had no idea”. Henry let go of her hand and supported himself on the back of the sofa.

“No, of course not. It’s an engagement ring I was given by my husband. I often wear it.” Naomi didn’t like to talk about her marriage with anyone. She felt very comfortable with Henry and they talked about many personal things, but she never mentioned her married life.

Henry slowly nodded. “You never talk about your marriage.” He took a sip of his drink and after a couple of seconds asked “Do you still love him?”

Naomi zoned out for a second, focusing her eyes on the floor. Her hand tried to retrace Henry’s touch on her knuckles. This touch. So delicate. It was one of the most intimate moments she’s ever experienced. Why was it so intimate - she didn’t know. She had had a lot of sex lately. Mostly with James. James never touched her this way. Why? Why had nobody ever touched her this way, she thought.

“Naomi.” Henry’s low, but soft voice snatched her out of her thoughts. She looked at him with slightly parted lips. What were they talking about? Oh, right. Her ex-husband.

“Do I love my husband? Because I wear the engagement ring? No. Not at all. I just love expensive jewellery with big diamonds.” She chuckled looking at her engagement ring. “That’s the secret. But no. I have no feelings for my ex - husband. As for why I don’t talk about my marriage, there’s just nothing to talk about. I was 20, he was 34 at that time we got married. I wanted to be an actress, he was a serious entrepreneur. I wanted to run away from my mum, who was trying to take over my whole life, and he was looking for a young woman to build a home with. At some point it didn’t work out. We had a nasty divorce and division of assets. He then moved to Moscow, and as far as I know he still lives there. The end.”

Naomi refilled Henry’s glass with whisky, Naomi willed herself to focus back on the conversation and not on the ghost of his touch that lingered on her skin. “What about your love life, Mr. One Hundred Questions to Naomi Poesy?” She asked and winked at him.

“You know how it is Naomi. It’s just hard to get involved with someone, if you have this kind of job. It’s all about either accepting my schedule and traveling with me, or building a long – distance relationship. It hardly ever works. Also…”

Naomi suddenly held her right hand up in a stop gesture. “I’m sorry, but I just have to interrupt here. That sounds like you’re trying to find a justification. I mean – and I’m really sorry for sharing my opinion unasked – but building any relationship is hard in general. Do you really think your situation is any different from a situation of CEOS or anyone who has a career, money and power? The scale may be different but the issues are all the same. I mean a CEO of a big insurance company does have the very same problems. He asks the same questions - if his new other half is with him because of his status, money, position or because she’s in love. And the schedule thing – sure it’s hard to build a relationship when you’re on the set for a couple of months and it literally consumes all of your time. Trust me though, it’s not easier if you work as a physician or a lawyer, or if you work in a big tv corporation like I do. Instead of being on the set for a couple of months, people work their asses off every day, because they have loans to pay, plans to realize. And they usually don’t have any breaks. The fact that you get back home to your other half after 9 pm does not necessarily make your relationship better. It’s just the matter of what you’re expecting from a relationship.”

Henry just nodded and added after a moment “I just want to have a family of my own.”

“Well. But this is not the answer to the question of what you are expecting from a relationship. I mean, obviously everyone wants to start a family. The question is – what does it mean to you? Some want to start a family because they hate to be lonely, some feel like they need to take care of others, and some just feel like it makes them feel complete. You know sometimes you meet the person you resonate with, you feel the great chemistry with, but it just doesn’t work because of lots of other factors like the timing, circumstances etc. So, what I mean is that you really need to know what you expect from your partner so that you can fight for it.” She thought about what she said for a minute “Hm.. it sounded much wiser in my head before I verbalized it.”

Henry laughed and looked her in the eyes licking his lips. That gentle touch. After a few seconds of glancing at each other she smiled at him and shyly turned her face away. “Ok, enough. Don’t try to charm me here.” She grabbed her phone from the coffee table. “Man, it’s 4 am! I’m not surprised I’m bubbling something half intelligent. I should be sleeping already, I have promised to help Sarah tomorrow morning. This morning. If you want to you can stay, I have a guest room and a spare toothbrush.”

“Thank you, but I guess I better get back home.” He grabbed his phone and ordered an Uber. “I just have to say” he started as they both stood up and headed towards the hall. “You are so tiny without high heels!”

She laughed “No shit Sherlock.”

“No, but seriously. I wanted to say” he stopped there and looked at Kal. It seemed like he was fighting with his thoughts whether to verbalize what he wanted to say or not. “I really like spending time with you.”

Naomi crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t date Cavill.” She said with a smile.

Henry just nodded and leaned towards her, so close that their faces were just inches away, and said “Well, pity.” He chuckled and leaned even closer to give her a goodbye kiss on a cheek “Bye, girl. Get some sleep.” He then took a step away and called for Kal, who was already bouncing on his legs ready to go.

Naomi reached to open the front door for them, but instead of doing it, she turned towards Henry and leaned against the door. She noticed his clenched jaw, then placed her eyes on his lips and eyes. She slowly grabbed the drawstring of his hood with her right hand and wrapped it around her fingers. “Hey.. I don’t, but what would you do if I did date…?” she asked playfully. She bit her bottom lip in anticipation.

“Naomi..” Henry smiled lightly at her, and tenderly touched her cheek, moving his fingers from her cheekbone through her lips to her chin. He was slowly studying her face. Naomi looked at him stunned, her lips parted, she was not expecting that.

“I’m 37. I’m too old to play this game. Please, don’t play with me.” He stroked her cheek once more with his index finger and stepped back. He fastened Kal’s leash. In the meantime Naomi unlocked the door and moved back.

“Goodbye” He gave her a warm smile and left.

Naomi quickly closed the door and tried to understand what had just happened. She felt all the emotions at once - arousal, humiliation, sadness, anger, happiness. She brushed her fingers through her cheek. That gentle touch. She took a deep breath. In her entire life Naomi had always been the “tough guy” - first in ballet school, at home, when her mother suffered from depression, and Naomi had to take care of her mother and her brother, then drama school. Establishing her position in television was not easy either. Oh, and her marriage. She was just a girl when she got married and her older husband always knew better. The random men she fucked after she got divorced. James. They all wanted to have her, possess her. And she kind of liked it. It made her feel attractive and in charge. But that touch was somethings new.

Naomi felt the tears welling in her eyes, as if for the first time in her life, she experienced such a gentle touch. And it felt so good.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x other female character #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #slow build

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queen-of-deans-booty · 4 years

Text

Swan Song: Part Two

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,579

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

Lucifer is here in Detroit; you can feel it. There are demons in the building he’s residing in because you can see them when you look into your binoculars. There are at least a dozen of them just hanging out, either waiting for something to happen or for you three to show up. Lucifer is many things, and you believe patient is one of them.

“There a shit ton of demons. At least twelve of them,” you say when you make your way back to the four men.

“He's here. I know it,” Dean nods.

He leaves the group to open the trunk so that Sam can have access to all the demon blood he needs in order for this thing to do the way he wants it to go. You step aside with Castiel to let Sam and your dad have a moment since you don’t think they will see each other ever again.

“This is going to work, right?” you ask the powerless angel.

He doesn’t give you an answer, which weirdly enough, gives you everything you need to know. Castiel has had no faith in Sam or Dean before, and things worked out just fine. But then again, you were never dealing with Lucifer.

Sam and your dad part ways, and the younger brother heads over to the open trunk where the six bottles of demon blood are waiting for him. You leave Castiel’s side and approach the younger brother from the left while Dean is on his right.

“You two mind not watching this?” Sam asks sheepishly.

“If you die, I’m going to kill you,” you whisper tearfully.

He nods slowly, and you and Dean leave his side so he can do his thing in private. You don’t know what to talk about with Dean, so you two just stand there in uncomfortable silence. Five minutes pass by, and you hear the sound of Baby’s trunk closing. Sam wipes his mouth with his sleeve and approaches you from behind.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Ready or not, here we come,” you comment and head off towards the abandoned apartment building. Sam raises his arms when he’s close enough to the building as if to say, ‘I’m here, and you better watch out’.

“Alright! We're here, you sons of bitches! Come and get it!” he yells loudly.

The front door opens, and three bulky demons walk out with stone-cold faces.

“Hey, guys. Is your father home?” Dean asks with a bittersweet smile.

It’s your job to get captured, you so don’t fight when one of them grabs you. The other two take the brothers inside, and the three demons manhandle you three up the stairs and into one of the apartment rooms. Lucifer stands by the window and looks out of it. He doesn’t turn to greet you and based on what little you can see of his reflection; he’s gotten worse since the last time you saw him. There are more red sores all over his face. Whoever he’s inhabiting is slowly dying from the inside. He needs Sam now more than ever.

“Hey, guys. So nice of you to drop in,” he chuckles lowly. He breathes hot air over the window like a child would do in a cold car to make a smiley face before the window could defrost. However, his breath is ice cold, and it freezes the window in icicles. “Sorry if it's a bit chilly. Most people think I burn hot. It's actually quite the opposite.”

“Well, I'll alert the media,” Dean says.

Lucifer turns his face so you get a better look at the state he's in. You know not a lot of people can handle such a powerful archangel inside themselves. If, for some reason, Sam says no, then Lucifer’s going to have a hard time trying to find someone who can take him for who he truly is. The Horsemen's rings sit in your pocket, and you finger them nervously.

“Help me understand something, guys. I mean, stomping through my front door is a tad suicidal, don't you think?”

“We're not here to fight you,” Sam answers.

“No? Then why are you?”

“I want to say yes.”

“Excuse me?” Lucifer says as he manages to keep his cool exterior.

He doesn’t believe that Sam is just going to give himself willingly, so that’s why he's not jumping at the chance to get inside Sam’s body. Sam closes his eyes, and with just a thought, he kills the demons that brought you inside the room. They drop to the floor, dead.

“Chock-full of Ovaltine, are we?” Lucifer chuckles.

“You heard me. Yes,” Sam glares.

“Oh, you’re serious,” Lucifer says when he realizes it.

“Look, Judgment Day's a runaway train. We get it now. We just want off.”

“Meaning?”

“The deal of the century. I give you a free ride, but when it's all over, I live, he lives, you bring all of our parents back—”

“Okay, can we please drop the telenovela? I know you have the rings, Sam.”

Wait, how does he know about that? The only reason why you came here to do this is because you thought you had the advantage of having the rings without him knowing. You try not to give anything away with your facial expressions, but Dean’s having more trouble than you are. You look over at him as Lucifer passes in between you so that he’s standing behind all three of you. Dean closes his eyes briefly before opening them. All three of you turn slowly to face the angel.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“The Horsemen's rings? The magic keys to my Cage? Ring a bell? Come on, Sam. I've never lied to you. You could at least pay me the same respect. It's okay. I'm not mad,” he chuckles and changed the topic. “A wrestling match inside your noggin... I like the idea. Just you and me, one round with no tricks. You win, you jump in the hole. I win... well, then I win. What do you say, Sam? A fiddle of gold against your soul says I'm better than you.”

“So, he knows. Doesn't change anything,” Sam mutters to you and Dean.

“Sam, no,” you whisper.

“We don't have any other choice.”

“No!” Dean exclaims.

“Yes,” Sam says to Lucifer.

He closes his eyes, and a bright light illuminates from his body. You shield your eyes to protect you from the brightness, but what’s done is done. When the bright light is gone, Lucifer’s old body is gone, and Sam is lying on the floor. Apparently, having an archangel in your head is going to take a few minutes to get his body kicking again.

“Do it!” Dean yells at you.

You take the rings out of your pocket and throw it at the wall. They stick to the wall as if they are magnets, and you rack your brain for the incantation that’s needed to open the cage. Death told you what to say when you want to open it, and what to say if you want to close it.

“Bvtmon… Tabges… Babalon,” you chant.

The wall begins to crack, and suddenly, the walls caves in on itself as a hole appears where the rings were. Air is sucked into it like a black hole. Whoever or whatever goes near it will be sucked into the hole and down into Lucifer’s cage. Sam stirs at the right time, and Dean rushes over to him.

“Sammy!”

“Dean! I can feel him. Oh, god!” he groans.

“You got to go now!” Dean yells as he helps his brother to stand.

“You need to go Sam! I’ll help you!” you yell, and blue magic starts to form around your hands.

It’s not ideal, but you’ll push him into the hole if it’s necessary. Sam stumbles towards the hole, and you grab his hand to help him.

“I have to do this!” he yells.

You let go of his hand and step back to join Dean’s side. Sam takes a few more steps but stops. You don’t know what he’s doing since he’s supposed to be jumping into the hole. He turns, and the look on his face tells you it’s not Sam… it’s Lucifer.

“I was just messing with you. Sammy's long gone,” Lucifer grins. He turns to the hole and chants the words in order to close it back up. “Chdr bvtmon tabges babalon.” The hole closes immediately, and Lucifer snatches the rings from the wall. “I told you... this would always happen in Detroit.”

Not a moment passes, and he’s gone. It’s just you, Dean, and the dead demons now. You have no idea where Lucifer is, or if Sam is even okay. This is not how things were supposed to go. Lucifer is going to meet with Michael, and you have no way to stop it.

The news is playing on televisions in a store window. Ever since Lucifer disappeared, bad things have been happening all over the country. You don’t know what the rest of the world looks like but you know it’s going to be a wasteland soon enough.

“The reports are flooding in,” the female news reporter says loudly as the wind whips past her. “A 7.6 earthquake in Portland, 8.1 in Boston, more in Hong Kong, Berlin, and Tehran. The U.S.G.S. has no explanation but says to expect a six-figure death toll.”

“It’s starting,” Castiel comments quietly.

“Yeah, you think, genius?” Dean scoffs.

“You don’t have to be so mean.”

“What do we do now?” you ask since you’re fresh out of ideas.

“I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol, and just wait for the inevitable blast wave.”

“Yeah, swell. Thank you, Bukowski. She means, how do we stop it?” Dean argues.

“We don't. Lucifer will meet Michael on the chosen field, and the battle of Armageddon begins.”

“Then where is this chosen field? We can go there and at least try to stop it. We can’t give up,” you scoff.

“I don’t know where it is.”

“Well, there's got to be something that we can do!” Dean shouts.

“I'm sorry, Dean. This is over,” the angel sighs.

“You listen to me, you junkless sissy, we are not giving up! Bobby?” the older brothers asks and turns to face your dad who is silent. “Bobby?”

“There was never much hope to begin with. I don't know what to do,” he sighs sadly.

“No, I am not accepting that answer. We didn’t make deals, kill demons, work with them, and take all four horsemen rings for nothing. We can’t just give up! That’s not who we are. We have another option.”

“What?” Castiel asks.

“We have a prophet,” you smirk and take out your cell phone.

You turn away from the men to take this call in private. Your dad knows that you might do something stupid, and Dean knows that you’re going to get some kind of answer from Chuck. He goes to the car to get her ready. Whether he likes it or not, he’d be stupid to not take advantage of your powers for this fight.

“Mistress Magda?” Chuck answers.

“Um, no, Chuck,” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Oh, uh, Y/N. Uh, wow. I, uh, I didn't know that you'd call,” he stutters in embarrassment.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re really busy. Look, Sam said yes to Lucifer.”

“I know. I saw it. I’m just working on the pages right now. I’m also very sorry, I know how sad you are,” he sighs.

“What are you talking about Chuck?” you sigh.

“About your baby. I know that you really want—”

“The next person who mentions my child, I will rip them a new one. Do you get what I’m laying down, Chuck?” you growl.

“Yes, ma’am,” he gulps in fear.

“Do you know where Sam is right now? Like where this big fight is supposed to happen?”

“Well, the angels are keeping it top secret—very hush-hush.”

“Shit,” you muttered.

“But I saw it anyway. Perks of being a prophet,” he smiles, you can hear it. “It's tomorrow at noon at a place called Stull Cemetery.”

“Stull Cemetery? No, that can’t be right. That’s an old cemetery outside of Lawrence. Dean and I used to sneak in there after it got dark. Why is it in Lawrence?”

“I don’t know. I guess it has to end where it started.”

“Do you know how to end this thing? Sam was supposed to get rid of Lucifer, but I have to do it now. Please tell me there is another way,” you beg.

“Besides the rings? No, I’m sorry.”

“Do you know what’s going to happen next?” your annoyance grows by the sound of your voice.

“I wish that I did. I honestly don’t know yet.”

“Do you know anything, Chuck? I thought you’re supposed to be a prophet and all knowing? What the fuck?” you yell.

“I’m truly sorry, Y/N,” Chuck sighs guiltily.

It’s not his fault this is happening, so you shouldn’t take your anger out on him. He did help you, after all.

“No, I’m, sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. You helped a lot, so thank you. I’m just frustrated.”

“I know. If it means anything, I’m rooting for you.”

“Thanks, Chuck. I’ll let you know how it goes if we survive,” you say and hang up. You turn around to see Dean standing behind you with his arms crossed. “Why are you just standing there?”

“You mentioned my name?”

“Yeah, the big fight is happening at Stull Cemetery. You know, the place we went to after it got dark? We snuck away from your dad after Sam went to college. We stole some of his alcohol. We even brought a tent there once to stargaze. Do you remember that Dean?” you ask, hoping the trip down memory lane will make him realize how stupid he’s being.

“I got the car ready. It’s a long drive ahead of us. Eleven hours,” he says and walks away.

“You going someplace?” your dad asks when he overhears what Dean said. “You two are going to do something stupid. You got that look.”

“We’re going to talk to Sam,” you say when you rejoin them.

“You two just don’t give up.”

“I told you we weren't!”

“It’s Sam!” Dean argues.

“If you couldn't reach him here, you're certainly not gonna be able to on the battlefield,” Castiel says.

“Well, if we've already lost, I guess I got nothing to lose, right?” Dean shrugs.

“I just want you to understand that the only thing that you're gonna see out there is Michael killing your brother.”

“We’re not going to let him die alone,” you reply.

“I can’t let you do this,” your dad sighs tearfully.

“It’s not your right to let me do anything. This is my choice. Sam’s my best friend, and he’d do this for me.”

“Come on,” Dean says and gets into the car.

Before you go on the suicide run, you hug your dad tightly. It’s been a pleasure knowing him as your dad and not as your uncle. You pass your hug onto Castiel, but he’s as stiff as a board. Whether or not he’s realized, he’s been there for you since the beginning. Even when you were a kid.

Without saying anything else, you let go of the angel and get into the car. It’s going to be a long road ahead of you.

Wanna get tagged? Add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@sing4mejensen @essie1876 @gh0stgurl @redsalv20 @superrandomnatural @scarletmeii @babypink224221 @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo @akshi8278 @a–1–1–3 @kendlemariee @miraclesoflove @earthtokace @teamfreewillsstuff @fandom-princess-forevermore @kiwihoee @jennazeise @phantomalchemist @posiemax @22sarah08 @tricksterdean @andi-mendes-barnes @put-my-favorite-record-on @countrygal17a @whit85-blog @sammypotato67 @knowledgefulbutterfly @fandomoverdose666 @sharp-cheekbones-locked @deanloveboi @dream-believe-and-love @brokenheartscrybrokentears

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural series rewrite #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #season 5 episode 22 #s5e22 #spn #supernatural

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hannibalcatharsis-zero · 4 years

Text

Allow me to share a little experience I had with season 4.

Namely, and obviously, fully revolving around Berlin and Palermo's scene.

I didn't watch season 4 when it premiered. I wasn't that interested, and I knew that, if I didn't watch it during the weekend, I'd be fully spoiled when I went back to work on monday.

I actually didn't mind, and when I got there and saw everyone talking, I was actually just happy they were all so excited about it. And they were actually very considerate about spoilers. But I got excited with the whole thing because of them, and I turned to one of my colleagues and friend and asked him "So, tell me everything".

He begrudgingly humored me (he wanted me to see the show, but he also was itching to share his opinion) and told me every single thing of the season and his opinion on the whole thing. We talked about it almost the entire day (we were lucky to have simple stuff to do that day), and it was awesome.

Point here being.

He started it all by saying this, with a huge grin on his face: "Man, there's this one scene where Berlin goes HARDCORE sucking Palermo's mouth. You'll love it." and understandably, my reaction was something like this:

(actually I gasped loudly and was like WHAT THE FUCK!)

Still in utter disbelief that scene actually existed, I said "Holy shit Palermo must have had a heart attack! He loved Berlin so much!" And my colleague agreed, making a very funny description of what Palermo must have felt at that moment. Eventually, he said this: "That scene was great and one of the best of the whole season. Berlin is fucking badass."

This comment is what I really committed to mind. “Berlin is fucking badass.”

I work with a tonful of men, in an usually-typical-men environment. Lots of testosterone. You can imagine the amount of constant teasing and mocking they are constantly doing amongst themselves, and how often that revolves around calling each other gay or whatnot. Now, as I said, everyone was going around sharing their hype and another colleague comes by to talk to us about it. Of course the first thing our colleague tells my friend is: "What about that kissing scene huh?! That's your favorite out of the season I bet!" (Because that’s what men always tease others with. Of course they imply something ‘gay’) and my colleague replied "It was a pretty badass scene."

Our colleague visually staggered and said something like: "Yeah, I mean they're actors and that's all technical kissing and whatever" and of course went to usual territory of how he'd never do a scene like that even if they paid him and whatnot. But he didn’t seem critical of the scene on itself either, when confronted with someone who admitted the scene had a purpose that was great for the character. Of course, it involved an intimate moment between two men, but that, in itself, didn’t make it a bad scene. It wouldn’t have made it better either, if it didn’t have a point.

This exchange between my colleagues also committed to mind.

I'm sharing this not-so-little retelling of that monday because of these two reasons. That little exchange between two (male, heterosexual) colleagues and the openly approving opinion of one of them.

Berlin is a badass, my colleague said, because it wasn’t about shame or fear or being a phobe, and he shows that to Palermo in the best and most badass way he can. There’s no ‘heterosexuality so fragile’ feeling. He goes hardcore and unafraid to prove a point. They love each other, Palermo obviously loves Berlin in a different manner, and Berlin shows that he simply cannot reciprocate that, as much as he’d like to, because he simply isn’t gay.

I know many people in the fandom don’t agree with this and like shipping. I do too. I also full heartedly agree with my colleague, and Berlin is even more badass in my opinion. I’m not looking to offend anyone by sharing this, I just found it to be really cool to actually see in real life how two heterosexual men react and have a conversation about a homosexual scene, how some can be standardly-dismissive or mocking and still get visibly objective about it when confronted with less prejudice than they were expecting from the other party. Just wanted to share this.

Final note: I saw that scene on that very day on youtube, unable to wait to get home and check it there, and when I got back to my colleague with the hugest grin of joy and disbelief (and more), my colleague laughed and said "You’ve already seen it, haven’t you? I knew you wouldn't be able to control yourself."

I say (and more) because this is a much more accurate representation of my reaction seeing the scene and then thinking of it in front of my colleague

#la casa de papel #andres de fonollosa #martin berrote #palermo lcdp #berlin lcdp #berlin #palermo

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haeddoti · 4 years

Text

This is my first blog-post and it is about some of the books I read between year 7 and 11 in my German high school. These books aren’t in a particular order, I just wrote all of them down and took some notes to guide me along. I’ll give a brief summary and then my thoughts about the books.

Without further due, let’s get into the series!

Nr. 1 “Hexen in der Stadt-Ingeborg Engelhardt”

We read this book in seventh grade and immediately after reading (actually during reading as well) we asked ourselves how and why someone thought “Hell yeah, that’s a topic for 11 year olds” since the book is originally listed for grade 5 and 6.

The story takes place in a German town during the Thirty years war, the witch hunts are running wild and the church is all over the place. The story follows a family of four who live in this town, the father is a doctor, one daughter is read-headed and the other a sleep walker. And although the father is greatly needed in this time, the towns people are really suspicious of the family, and they have to flee the city.

First of all, the book was so dense, it was almost unbearable. Definitely not something for children and yet the book won the “Youth literature award” in Germany, so I guess it wasn’t too bad after all. I honestly don’t remember a lot from it, I know we watched a horrible movie about it and I also remember that the pacing(?) in the book was weird, because the first 80% or so took reaaaally long to read through and virtually nothing happened and then in the last 20% everything happened all at once and it was just too much.

Nr. 2 “Am kürzeren Ende der Sonnenallee-Thomas Brussig”

The only (apparent) reason why we read this book was because we had our final class trip to Berlin in year 10.

The setting is the DDR, East-Berlin to be precise, somewhere around 1970ish. Our protagonist Micha lives in a street which was cut in half my the Berlin Wall and he, unfortunately enough, lives in East-Berlin. He frequent meets with his friends in a nearby park where they listen to West-Music and swoon about Miriam, the neighborhood beauty who is kinda a not-like-other-girls-girl.

All in all, the books is about searching happiness and thinking about how it is so very close and yet never being able to reach it.

It was comfortable to read and overall it was an okay novel. I don’t remember much about it, although I literally read it a year ago. The insight about east-Berlin was cool, and the author definitely implemented own experiences and as someone who grew up in post-split Westgermany it was rather informative and interesting. The quote on the back of the book was also pretty.

“Happy people have a bad memory and rich memoirs”

Nr. 3 “Frühlings Erwachen-Frank Wendekind”

(Springs Awakening)

Oh. My. God. This whole topic was such a BS and I hated every second of it.

The book takes place, once again, in a German Town in a time where there is no Sex-Ed, aka 1900th century, which is also the topic of the book; Sex-Ed gone wrong. Our first protagonist Wendla grows up in a home with a loving, strict mother and far, far away from everything unholy like sex. Our second protagonist, Melchior, is a really smart, really handsome boy who is the top of his class and who likes to read provocative literature which makes him think about masturbation. His best friend is also handsome but really stupid but the social pressure keeps him from dropping out of school- that and his strict, abusive father. Melchior and Wendla fall in love (he hits her with sticks after she metions that she has never been hurt before), have Sex(he rapes her) and after Wendla gets pregnant and dies after an attempted abortion via poisonous plants her aunt have her, Melchior is only mildly devastated. He turns sad, and kinda crazy, after his best friend commits suicide. He has a rendez-vous with the ghost and death itself, he is happy again? I dunno, the whole book was all over the place.

Worse than the book was the discussions we had in class afterwards. One time we had to argue whether it was in-fact rape or if it was just sex. Second discussion we had was about Wendla being a masochist.

The worst thing about the whole topic was the stupid ass movie adaptation.

You think Percy Jackson has it bad? Oh boy. Ohhh boy. The movie plays in the 2000s, graffiti, cool skater boys, rapper-wannabes and early 2000s fashion included. The names stayed tho, cause why not name the male protagonist Melchior in 2001. There are scenes where teenagers, TEENAGERS, go to a brothel. Ah, I forgot.

They are 13-14, book and movie alike.

10/10 would NOT recommend.

Nr. 4 “Der Besuch der alten Dame-Friedrich Dürrenmatt”

(The visit)

(No, not the horror movie)

Oh my goodness, I loved this book.

Picture this. A small town in a German province far away from any major cities with a single trail connection between Hambourg and Zurich, aka the whole length of Germany, where virtually nothing happens. One day, a former resident, comes for a visit. But not just anyone, Claire frikking Zachanassian comes for a visit.

And for blood, because this sixty-something, badass multi-billionaire who got her fortune by marrying a bunch of men who died coincidentally one after the other proposes to the town an offer.

One billion for the head of the man, Alfred the third, who expelled her out of the town after getting her pregnant and lying about it in court after she sued him.

They sent her away in the train, called her a hoe and laughed about her. She lived in a brother for a little while, her son died, and a horny, rich man decided to marry her because why not.

At first the towns people are disgusted by the offer, outraged by the immoral offer and they straight up deny it. “I’ll wait, Claire says”.

You see, the town is really, really poor. Not only because it is in a terrible location commercially wise, but also because Claire bought every factory in the town and brought them all to a stand still to slowly dry the city out. She planned this revenge.

And you see, the proposal of 500 million split between the inhabitants and 500 million for the industry of the city sounds great if you are on the brink of disaster and hunger and misery. But surely, with such an immoral offer, no one would want to commit a crime? Or would they.

Because, now that I look at it, Alfred really did something horrible… maybe, just maybe I can allow myself to stack up some dept.

And Alfred grew more and more paranoid. Begging Claire to stop this, apologizing on his knees, crying and sleeping with one open eye at all times.

We discussed in our class what we would do. We didn’t really came to a conclusion since we had nothing to compare, not one of us was ever asked to make such a decision. “It depends” was our final answer.

They do kill him in the end. It doesn’t end happy, Claire isn’t happy, but she does give the towns people their money. I really enjoyed reading this book. The female “antagonist” was refreshingly bad-ass and the moral despair was entertaining to read.

We learn that Claire is rich and powerful, but that she lost so much innocence, so much energy to enjoy her life in such young years that, as a reader, you cannot not sympathize with her.

Nr. 5 “Das Versprechen-Friedrich Dürrenmatt”

(The pledge)

Hands down the best book I’ve read in school.

This book is originally a critique by Dürrenmatt about the emerging detective novel genre where everything always works out.

The setting is in a Swiss town, 1950ish, and in the beginning the reader takes on the role of an author who meets a certain Dr. H who works for the police. They become friends and take a ride through the mountains. Upon taking a stop at a gas station, Dr. H introduces us to a seemingly old, smoking, alcohol-reeking man and a scruffy looking girl. The narrator is confused, asks who these people are, and back in the car, we learn that this is the former detective, no-one-escapes-me, super-brain Matthäi.

From that point on the narrator switches and we are now in a third person narrator perspective.

Matthäi is introduced again, this happening in the past, as a hard-working, clean, structured man who doesn’t smoke, drink or disobeys rules. No one really likes him in the office, but they value that he just so good at his job. But because he is so unapproachable, they want to sent him away to Jordan.

The week he was planning to travel there, a young girl is raped and then brutally murdered in a small town nearby. And because he is Mister Superbrain, he goes there to help investigate.

The other officers at the crime scene are (understandably) uncomfortable, they don’t want to talk to the family, or the people there in general. So Matthäi talks to everyone. He is a very calm, collected, cold man. So he meets with the family, tells them what happened to their daughter and is utterly, completely shocked when the mother just blankly stares in his face, and asks him to promise her to find the murderer of her daughter. He is shocked by the lack of emotion in this moment and sees himself in this cold visage of the mother. He promises her, just to get away from her as fast as possible, and drives back to be office.

I don’t want to spoil too much because this book is just so good, but oh my god

I’m in general a sucker for drastic changes in character or demeanor (hence why I liked The Visit so much as well) but his book takes everything to another level. They “plottwist” is so incredibly frustrating and nerve wraking to read, the perspective changes provide so much more depth.

And for the first time I finally read a really intricate, morally gray character.

Nr. 6 “Nathan der Weise-G. E. Lessing”

(Nathan the Wise)

This book was kinda eh. If I had so summarize it as fast as possible it would probably be “Religion and accidental incest”. It is about the three world religions and stereotypes between them, about genocide and also about stigmatization. It ends on a nice note, tho.

The only really remarkable passage of this book is the so-called “Ringparabel” in which Nathan answers to the question which religion is the real, big OG of them all. It is pretty nice and the symbolism is really fitting as well. The beginning of the book is incredibly boring but it does get better in the end. All in all not a total waste of time and money but nothing I would read again.

Nr. 7 “Die Leiden des jungen Werther- Goethe”

(The sorrows of young Werther)

Ah yes, no German class without Goethe. This book is written in a way that lets the reader really seep into Werthers emotion because it is written as a letter-novel. Werther is a young, nature-loving guy who (in the beginning of the book) is just really happy, go-lucky and over all nice. Then he meets Lotte, a young, pretty, smart and book-loving woman who is empathic to all those around her. He falls in love with her, despite knowing that she is literally engaged and about to marry. She knows he loves her, her fiance know he loves her and literally everyone knows he loves her and they are ok with it? I dunno. Werther has a severe Seasonal-affective-Disorder. He kinda makes it through the first winter after meeting Lotte but never really recovers, even during summer. In the second winter, he can’t take it anymore and he commits suicide.

I liked the book (not only because I can identify with the SAD). In the end we learn that Lotte isn’t as good as we originally think she is; She is actually really possessive of Werther and although she wants him to be happy, she doesn’t think anyone is good enough for him and thus he should just stay close to her. She enjoys the attention given by her husband, who is actually really nice and whom she does love, and by Werther who is utterly and completely obsessed with her.

Opinions on this book split 50/50 with my friends. Some of them think like me and they see the heart break and the desire to move on but ultimately, the way attraction is so so strong. Some other friends, more specifically my Help-with-Maths-Go-to-Guy hated this book with a burning passion. I can see why. The imagery is sometimes a tad too far-fetched and the wording is, in true Goethe-Fashion really hard to read and the sentences are kinda messed up as well.

But in the end it is still the book which opened the way for Goethe to be one of the greatest writers in Europe and I can see why.

Oh wow. This concludes all the books I read thus far. There will be definitely more to come next year and maybe I’ll do another post like this once I read some more.

I hope you enjoyed to read my thoughts and maybe felt inspired to look into one of these as well!

See you soon!

#books #german highschool #goethe #durrenmatt #my thoughts and opinions #we read more but these are the ones i recall best

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chokememrstark · 5 years

Photo

We Are Electric - Starker

Words: ~ 3,3k

Summary: During a business trip to Berlin, Tony stumbles over a group of breakdancers on his lunch break. One of them in particular sparks his interest, a gorgeously cute boy, and he can’t help but ask him out for a coffee. As it turns out, he is completely smitten by Peter, a boy he will probably never see again in his life.

Warnings: no powers!au, underage (peter is 17), fluff, strangers, really just something cute i had to do

Note: Well, this is what happens when you let me listen to 2000′s B-Boy bands, woops. Still hope you enjoy this little fic! (and yes, the title is based off the inspiration, bc I love using song titles for my fics)

[read on AO3]

Tony tried everything he could to drop out of this trip to Berlin, but in the end, he wound up on the plane anyway, knowing that a week out of states was better than risking to lost the deal that this meeting promised. The first two days were spent rather eventless with smaller negotiations and by the time Tony left for his lunch break on the third day, he was ready to commit murder.

Since the people he talked to all day annoyed the hell out of him, Tony decided to get some fresh air and possibly a coffee. The rest of the group was going to eat at a restaurant nearby, but Tony preferred to be alone for some time and strolled down the street in search for a good place to stay at. That’s when he noticed a group of people gathered in one spot and curiosity got the better of him when suddenly music started playing.

It wasn’t the kind of music Tony usually listened to, but he still stepped closer and damn, was it worth it. There were several boys and girls who were dancing, breakdancing to be exact, and it looked almost like some sort of contest or battle. Tony always thought this kind of dancing was interesting - he could never in his life move like that but it was fascinating to watch. The girl whose turn it was finished her choreo and earned lots of applause, when suddenly someone else stepped forward.

The boy’s face was hidden by a hoodie at first, but once he stepped into the middle of the ‘dancefloor’, he pulled the hood off and Tony’s jaw nearly hit the floor. The boy was absolutely gorgeous!

“Go Pete!” someone shouted and the boy grinned, pulling his hoodie off completely and nodding. A new song startsed playing and what happened next completely blew Tony away.

The girl was good, but this boy was so much better. It looked like gravity has no effect on him. The way he flew over the ground, turned and spun, had Tony stare in complete disbelief. It was only two minutes, but it was enough to blow Tony’s mind.

When the boy stood back up, everyone around him cheered and even Tony couldn’t help but join in with the clapping that follows. The boy grinned, which made him ten times prettier, and walked over to someone else to grab a bottle of water. The contest seemed to continue as another boy walked into the middle now, but Tony didn’t have eyes for him. He kept looking at the boy from before, stunned by his obviously joy and mesmerized by his laugh and the way he smiled.

It took Tony five minutes to collect himself enough to figure out what to do. It felt like the worst luck to encounter such an incredible and fascinating boy all the way over here in Germany, but Tony wanted to at least make sure he knew how great he thought he was, so he summoned all his courage and walked over to the boy and his two friends.

“Excuse me?” Tony said, tapping the boy’s shoulder. He turned around surprised, pretty big doe eyes looking up at him.

“Huh?”

God, even his voice was adorable, Tony had to swallow down a lump that built in his throat.

“I just wanted to tell you how amazing you were over there,” he says and jerks his head towards the dancefloor where a new contestant had taken the place of the boy from before. “I had no idea it’s possible to move like this.”

The boy blinks a few times and then suddenly smiles brightly. “Thanks, man!” he answered, surprising Tony by speaking English, and his heart made a little jump. “You dance too?”

Tony laughed and shook his head. “Oh, God forbid! I’d probably break my neck if I tried,” he admitted, grinning and clearly losing some of his nervousness. “But I love watching people who can do it and you’re the best I’ve seen so far.”

“Been doing this since I was five, so thanks,” the boy said happily and held out his hand. “I’m Peter, and you are?”

“Tony,” Tony replied and shook the Peter’s hand. “Say, you don’t happen to have time to grab a coffee somewhere? I need some caffeine to make it through the day. You’re invited, of course.”

Peter tilted his head and looked at Tony for a moment before nodding and turning to his friends. He spoke to them in German, which made Tony smile because he was really fluent in it, and then grabbed a backpack from the ground, shouldering it.

“Alright, I’ve got two hours until they expect me back,” he said and looked up at Tony cheekily. “You know where to go?”

“Absolutely no idea,” Tony admitted and scratched his head. “I guess you are a bit more familiar with the place?”

Peter nodded and pointed to a building just a few feet away. “They got a nice café up there, if you want to?” he suggested. “Good spot to watch the dancers or the skaters when they do their tricks.”

Tony nodded and walked over to the building with Peter. It was a shopping mall with a restaurant and a café on the second floor. As Peter said, it was really nice and once they ordered coffee and some cake, Tony checked the view. Definitely a great position to not miss anything going on beneath them.

“I had no idea there’s such good entertainment here,” Tony laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Guess it’s not the worst place to be at today.”

Peter laughed and pulled out his phone, checking something. “We discovered it last week, it’s pretty cool,” he agreed and grinned. “Yesterday there was even a rap battle, really heard some fun insults. Tomorrow the skaters are back, I think. Some of the guys do that too.”

“You don’t?” Tony asked and Peter shook his head.

“Not good on wheels,” he shrugged. “I tried it a few times, but as soon as I’m off my own feet I turn into the clumsiest thing ever.”

“Hard to imagine, given how flexible you are,” Tony huffed surprised, but Peter just grinned.

“What can I say?” he grinned. “Dancing is my life and breakdancing is much more fun than smashing my face by losing balance on skates.”

“Sounds fair,” Tony chuckled as their order was brought to the table. “So, tell me a bit about yourself, Peter. What’s a talented boy like you doing here?”

Peter took a bite from his cake, humming pleasantly. “Enjoying my holiday,” he explained and gave Tony a sweet smile. “I traveled with my friends, but they had to leave last week, so I decided to stay a bit longer to explore the city by myself. The people here are pretty chill and I can practice the language some more by staying.”

“You’re good with it,” Tony pointed out, taking a sip from his coffee. “I still struggle with how harsh the language is sometimes.”

“You get used to it the more you speak it, I guess,” Peter shrugged. “But practicing with locals is good for improving, will come in handy back in school.”

At this, Tony frowned slightly. School? “You’re going to college?” he asked, hoping to get a yes, but instead, Peter shook his head.

“Starting my last year in high school in a few weeks,” he said casually. “Can’t wait for this to be over, trust me. Hopefully college will be a bit more relaxed.”

Tony gulped and let out an awkward laugh. Damn, so the boy wasn’t even 18 yet, or just turned 18. His luck really was something else.

“Usually it’s pretty cool if you don’t go partying every other day,” he said, smirking. “You know what you want to major in already?”

Peter nodded, his face lightening up. “Of course! I’ll go into engineering and possibly physics, but definitely engineering. I already got some colleges in mind I applied to, better get a spot early than not get one at all, you know?”

“Definitely,” Tony agreed with a nod. Peter seemed to be a smart one, he liked that. Too bad he wouldn’t meet him again after this and that he was way too young, but Tony still enjoyed the boy’s company.

They talked for almost an hour, with Peter telling Tony about how he was in drama class in school and that he wanted to keep the dancing up on the side, if only as a hobby, even when going to college in the future. Tony couldn’t say that he would tell him otherwise, Peter was damn good with it, so he should keep doing it if it made him happy.

Tony was almost sad when they had to part, but there was no way he could stay longer. The next meeting was only half an hour away and Peter’s friends expected him back soon too, so after they left the mall again, he hugged the boy quickly before smiling at him.

“Thanks for the nice lunch break,” he said sincerely. “You were much better company than the idiots I have to go back to now.”

“Can’t say I didn’t enjoy it myself,” Peter laughed and punched Tony’s arm friendly. “Don’t let them annoy you too much and if you want to, come by again later today. We will have another battle tonight.”

“I’ll try to come,” Tony said, but he already knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. The meeting was scheduled to last until way after 9 in the evening and he would be so exhausted that it would be a miracle if he managed to get out of his shoes before dropping into bed.

And just as he expected, Tony couldn’t make it. He was mad at himself and came back to the same spot for the following three days in hopes to see Peter again, but he had no such luck. Eventually, he accepted defeat and that it wasn’t supposed to be. It would have been too good to be true anyway, if he was honest.

Tony barely made it through the last day, so glad when he finally took a taxi back to the airport. The deal was settled with good conditions, that was a slight comfort, but he couldn’t wait to be back home and sleep in his own bed again. He hated sleeping in hotel beds, he just never managed to fully relax in those.

The airport was crowded and loud, perfectly adding to Tony’s already annoyed mood and the headache he felt coming up didn’t help lift it either. He checked in after almost an hour, ready to just fall asleep as soon as he was seated, when he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. Already preparing himself for some rude asshole thinking they were entitled to faster service, Tony turned around, only to see a pair of familiar, soft eyes.

“Now if that’s not what I call coincidence,” Peter said, looking just as cute and gorgeous as in Tony’s memory. “I missed you Tuesday evening.”

Tony swallows and just stares at the boy shocked. “Sorry, I… my meeting took longer than expected and after it I was practically dead,” he explains awkwardly.

“No problem, I got smashed by some other dude anyway,” Peter shrugged and smiled at him.

“Sir? Your ticket,” the airline employee said, turning Tony’s attention back to her. He took his ticket, nodded, and stepped aside so Peter could check in too.

“Economy?” the airline employee asked and Peter nodded, handing her his ticket. “You will be boarding last, check for your call.”

“Wait!” Tony said, a thought forming in his head. “Are there any first class seats left?”

The woman behind the counter blinked surprised and checked her computer, then nodding. “Yes, sir. There are plenty seats left in first class.”

“Upgrade his ticket, please,” he said and pulled out his wallet, handing her his credit card. “It’s on me.”

Peter’s eyes widened and he looked at him in shock. “Are you serious?” he asked, completely dumbfounded. Tony nodded.

“It’s the least I can do for breaking my promise,” he explained himself, leaving out the fact that he really just wanted to spend some more time with the boy. “Unless you mind?”

“Oh, hell no!” Peter laughed. “I never flew first class, thank you!”

“Alright, upgrade him then,” Tony nodded and turned back to the woman. She looked at both of them for a moment, then shrugged and did the upgrade for Peter’s ticket.

“Here you go, sir,” she said, handing the new ticket over to Peter. “You’ll board first and can wait in the VIP lounge for your flight to be called.”

“Come, the lounge is much more comfortable than waiting here,” Tony winked and led Peter to the VIP area, using his personal gold card to open the door.

“Damn, you’re really going all out, huh?” Peter huffed impressed as he looked around the place. Tony already sat down in one of the extremely comfortable chairs, crossing his legs.

“Flying first class has its perks,” he shrugged and grinned at the boy. “The food is much better too, trust me. You’ll never want to fly economy again.”

“I fear so too,” Peter laughed and sat down across from Tony, still checking out the room. “And all that because you said you’d come by and didn’t?” he finally asked, raising a brow.

“Partially,” Tony laughed. “Let’s keep it at that or I’ll embarrass myself.”

“I highly doubt you could embarrass yourself,” Peter chuckled and pulled out his phone. “Damn, they got good reception here. Perfect. Gotta tell my aunt I’m on the way, she keeps worrying if I don’t text her at least twice a day,” he explained and rolled his eyes dramatically.

“She’s probably just worried,” Tony smirked. “You’re pretty far away, after all.”

“Yeah, but she’s exaggerating, really,” Peter huffed. “Acts like I’m still a kid. I mean, come on! It’s not like I’m twelve, right? I’m seventeen! I can fly alone, so I can spend a few weeks away without her going crazy, right?”

Seventeen… fuck. Tony knew this much of course, but hearing Peter actually say it made it seem so much more real. He internally scolded himself for being this attracted to a seventeen year old, even if it didn’t change anything in the end.

“Typical parental worry,” he managed to say eventually and shrugged again. “At least she didn’t insist on coming with you. During my first actual holiday alone, my mother actually followed me without me knowing because she was so worried I would get into trouble.”

“Fuck, you serious?” Peter whistled and looked up, putting his phone back. “That’s tough.”

“Yeah, you bet I was quite surprised when I saw her in the hotel lobby one evening.” Tony laughed at the embarrassing memory. “I got the biggest scolding of my life for being drunk, even if I was just tipsy and didn’t do anything bad.”

“Good thing you can drink as much as you want now,” Peter grinned and winked. “I had a few beers while I was here too, pretty cool that you can drink it with sixteen here already.”

“Yeah, gives you a sense of freedom, doesn’t it?”

“And a huuuuge headache after the first time,” Peter laughed. “But it was good. I had lots of fun here and really wanna come back next year.”

“Yeah, I might too, but next time without meetings and annoing people,” Tony sighed. “Didn’t have an actual vacation in years. It’s really needed.”

They talked a bit more before their flight was called and they both got onto the plane. The first class was almost empty, so Peter simply sat down next to Tony and no one tried to stop him, given that the seat wasn’t booked anyway.

“God, there’s so much space!” Peter stretched his legs and didn’t even come close to the seat in front of him, whistling in appreciation. “I already love it!”

“One of the reasons I insist on flying first class,” Tony grinned and looked over. “Plus, no stress while boarding, good food and the flight attendants actually leave you alone when you look like you’re sleeping. No one’s going to bother you unless you ask them to or it’s time for food.”

“I feel like royalty, seriously!” Peter laughed, playing with his seat to the point he almost laid flat on it. Tony watched the boy with a gentle smile, it was lovely to see him to excited. Screw the money, it was worth spending it already, even if all they ended up doing was sleep through the flight.

Twent minutes later they were in the air and the flight attendant came over to offer them something to drink, explaining that whatever they would get was free, including souvenirs from the wagon. Peter was baffled and only managed to ask for a coke, while Tony got a coffee and some magazines to pass the time. He did have a book, but that one he already read through on his first flight, unfortunately.

As it turned out, the flight was absolutely pleasant. Tony and Peter talked for hours, even after the lights had already been dimmed so the others could sleep they continued, just more quiet. The flight was just eight hours and they had both slept in that morning, so they weren’t reall tired, even though it was a night flight.

Peter told Tony about school and living with his aunt, Tony talked about his job and the other trips he made - including one to Italy, which intrigued Peter a lot. He said he wanted to visit Italy so badly during his trip, but didn’t get the chance to do it sadly. Tony felt the mighty urge to buy Peter a ticket to Italy just so he could go as soon as they landed.

They were served breakfast around half an hour before landing and were still talking while eating. It really was the best flight Tony ever had and he was utterly sad when the flight attendants announced the landing.

When it was time to get off the plane, Peter stayed close to Tony until they got to pick up their luggage - due to their first class tickets it was much faster going through security luckily. Tony picked up his luggage first and waited for Peter to do the same. He dreaded actually leaving the airport, knowing he wouldn’t see this wonderful boy again.

Once they walked out of the arrival area, however, Peter suddenly took Tony’s hand and shook it before stepping on his toes to hug him. before he pulled back, he pressed a kiss onto Tony’s cheek, which actually made the man blush slightly. He looked at Peter as he grabbed the handle of his luggage again, a bright smile on his face.

“Thanks for the great flight, Tony,” he said sweetly and lifted a hand to wave at him. “I gotta go, my aunt is already waiting. Bye!”

Tony just waved back at the boy, unable to move and definitely blocking the exit because he didn’t move. He watched Peter run up to a woman, who hugged him tight and heard his wonderful laugh again, his heart aching at the sight. Only when someone bumped into him with a rude ‘Excuse me?’, Tony finally snapped back into reality and quickly left the area himself.

That was, when he noticed that he held something in his hand. Frowning and confused, he opened it, revealing a small folded note. Could it be? He unfolded the paper with shaky hands and stared at the writing on it, neat and pretty, just like the one who gave it to him. It contained a phone number, along with a small message that read:

Call me if you want to <3 Peter

Tony couldn’t wipe the smile off his face for the whole rest of the day.

#starker #ironspider #tony x peter #myfics #one shot #some cuteness i hope you will like

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eretzyisrael · 5 years

Link

Lioz Amar had booked a hotel online for a trip to Barcelona. He specified that he needed a walk-in shower but when he got to the room, he discovered it only had a bathtub.

That might have been a disappointment but not a deal breaker for most people. But Amar is not most people. In 2011, he was wounded during his service in the Israel Defense Forces and, since the age of 21, requires a wheelchair to get around.

“I went to the front desk and I said I need a roll-in shower,” Amar tells ISRAEL21c. “The guy brings out a ‘certificate of accessibility’ and says that this is an acceptable room. I said to him, put that paper aside for a second and think of me.”

The problem, Amar explains, is that there are no standards. A hotel can advertise that it’s accessible but how high is the bed? Is there braille on the elevator buttons? If there’s a knock on the door, will the lamp blink?

Web-based booking forms rarely go into such detail. Calling every hotel in town before traveling would be an overwhelming task.

Amar set out to fix that by creating an online travel site for people with disabilities. He called the site Travaxy, a mashup of “travel” and “accessibility.”

Every hotel on the site is vetted using a digital survey. And Travaxy displays only direct flights; you don’t want to get stuck in a strange airport overnight because of a missed connection while your wheelchair is still in transit.

Travaxy hasn’t built its own booking engine. “We have the same connections as at Booking.com or Expedia. On top of that, we have our own layer of hotels,” Amar explains.

Travaxy goes above and beyond online booking in many cases. “A few days ago, a woman called and wanted to do a bar mitzvah trip for her son in Israel, but her husband was in an electric wheelchair. She couldn’t find a bus that could accommodate the wheelchair at a reasonable price. I said, ‘Let me try.’ After five minutes, I came back with an offer. She said, ‘Book it now.’ Afterward she wrote to me that everything was perfect, especially the way the driver gracefully handled the father’s needs.”

Booking via Travaxy also means if a disabled traveler runs into trouble – for example, his or her wheelchair breaks in transit (something Amar says “happens at one time to everyone with a disability”) – Travaxy can send a replacement part or an entire chair.

Lioz Amar had booked a hotel online for a trip to Barcelona. He specified that he needed a walk-in shower but when he got to the room, he discovered it only had a bathtub.

Web-based booking forms rarely go into such detail. Calling every hotel in town before traveling would be an overwhelming task.

Amar set out to fix that by creating an online travel site for people with disabilities. He called the site Travaxy, a mashup of “travel” and “accessibility.”

Lioz Amar, founder of Travaxy site for travelers with disabilities. Photo by Tomer Appelbaum

Travaxy hasn’t built its own booking engine. “We have the same connections as at Booking.com or Expedia. On top of that, we have our own layer of hotels,” Amar explains.

15% of world population is disabled

The difference between Travaxy and mainstream travel sites is apparent as soon as you try to book a flight or hotel.

You are asked what your disability is, whether you need assistance getting to the gate or disembarking, whether your wheelchair is manual or battery operated (and what kind of battery it has, important when checking the chair as luggage), and even the door width you require.

Can’t you make similar requests on popular travel booking sites? “They say you can do it,” Amar replies. “It’s politically correct to say so, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t really happen.”

Travaxy has a staff person confirm every order offline. “We make sure that the request is getting noticed. So far, we’ve had zero mistakes,” Amar reports after the first month of operation, when the number of bookings was still in the hundreds.

Amar is confident those numbers will grow. “Fifteen percent of the world population is disabled,” he claims. “That’s 516 million people in developed countries. And they travel two to four times more than the usual traveler.”

Moreover, 80% of disabled people “travel with two or more people with them who are not disabled.” In 2017, disabled people booked 190 million holidays, Amar mentioned during an interview he gave to Israel’s Channel 12.

Paralympic champ

Amar has become one of those frequent travelers. “When I was first injured, I found myself in bed saying, ‘I’m over, I’m screwed, I’m only half a person. What’s the point?’ I was like that for a year and a half. It was catastrophic for me.”

Just when he was at his lowest, Amar discovered swimming as part of his rehabilitation process. “I went into the pool, started to swim. I was free and fast. I could swim without being tied into a wheelchair. And people noticed. They said, ‘You swim very fast; you need to talk to the coach.’”

Amar went on to become a Paralympic champion, coming in seventh in the 100-meter breaststroke in the 2008 Summer Paralympics in Beijing. “Life as an athlete requires quite a lot of travel around the world,” he notes.

Sport also turned around another aspect in Amar’s life. He met the woman who would become his wife, Natalie, at a rugby tournament for wheelchair players. “The guys were playing, and she came to see a game. We saw each other, clicked, and we haven’t left each other since.” The couple now has a three-and-a-half-year-old daughter.

Amar worked for a while as a swimming instructor. He later picked up programming skills and found himself, in 2016, as “an entrepreneur who doesn’t know how to be an entrepreneur, at least at first.” Amar smartly surrounded himself with expertise.

His business partner, Michal Ben Assage, worked for 24 years in the travel industry, most recently at Amadeus, the world’s largest business-to-business travel platform.“She came with knowledge from the agent side. I came with the technology and the disability side,” Amar says.

Travaxy also partnered with the Daka90 Israeli “last minute” travel site.

“We’re very different from what they usually do,” Amar says. “People with disabilities don’t generally look to book a flight for tomorrow. But they invested in us. They were cool enough to say that no one is treating this community right.”

Travaxy, which has a team of eight, operates out of Daka90’s Tel Aviv office, home of inhouse accelerator Daka90 Labs.

Other strategic partners include Itai Green, CEO of Israel Travel Tech Startups, an incubator for tourism startups; and Mediterranean Towers Ventures, the investment arm of a company that runs luxury senior homes in Israel. Older people often have accessibility needs when traveling.

Travaxy raised $480,000 via the ExitValley Israeli crowdfunding platform. Half of the money came from Mediterranean Towers Ventures in exchange for a 10% stake in the company. Arik Pinto, the retiring CEO of Bank Hapoalim, who walks with a cane since suffering from polio as a child, also invested. Travaxy is now looking to raise another $2 million.

Travaxy charges a commission on bookings, just like other online travel sites, fueling new features and new locations. The need to vet accommodations individually has kept the company from expanding willy-nilly: currently, you can book flights or hotels in Tel Aviv, New York, London, Amsterdam, Berlin and Barcelona.

Thailand is next, Amar says. “It’s a very popular destination but not very accessible. You need to know where you’re going and who will serve you. But once you make the relationships, the culture there is to help. They don’t mind me being in a wheelchair as long as I can bring more customers!”

For more information, click here

#travaxy #Israel #accessibility #disability

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momo-de-avis · 5 years

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The life of the Infamous Banana Art work is honestly fucking hilarious because it’s an exact reflex of what happens when someone fucks with the art world and incites passionate responses both for and against it.

The art's initial price was at 120.000$, and has bid up to 150.000$. Two museums have so far acquired a banana each.

There are also 3 editions of the same work.

According to the gallery (Perrotin) representing Cattelan,

"Back then, Cattelan was thinking of a sculpture that was shaped like a banana," it reads. "Every time he traveled, he brought a banana with him and hung it in his hotel room to find inspiration. He made several models: first in resin, then in bronze and in painted bronze (before) finally coming back to the initial idea of a real banana."

(remember, this is the guy who made a fucking toilet out of 18-carat gold and it got fucking stolen).

Recently, a performance artist just straight up walked up to the wall, peeled the duct-tape, peeled the banana and ate it. He does not regret it, claims he was hungry (and, in fact, did not eat prior to this action, so he could experience maximum potassium enjoyment) and that the banana was, in fact, delicious.

after that, the banana had to be removed from Art Basel because people were going absolutely bonkers over it, and lines were so long and the space around it so crowded, security had to just remove the art work. This was all for a chance at a cool instagram photo.

And like, yall remember when the Berlin Dada group made an exhibition basically insulting the bourgeoisie, got roasted by the whole city, then did a second one, tripled the price of the tickets, and when people got there it was basically Hueselbeck saying “why the fuck did you idiots spend triple the money if you hated it so much”?

Or when Tristan Tzara, at the Cabaret Voltaire, along with Hugo Ball, made such a bonkers show that people (again, high-society folk) showed up with bags of rotten fruit---prepared beforehand, after having been there several times, since they had apparently developed a passion for just to going there again to feel angry---and started wrecking the shit out of Cabaret Voltaire, to the point where they destroyed figurines and props? And Tzara calling it “the final victory of Dada”?

Or like, this whole ‘the travelling banana was an inspiration for me’ just sounds a whole lot like when Jasper Johns heard someone say that famous art marchand Leo Castelli “could sell two beer cans if you had them” (or something to that effect), and Jasper Johns dead ass said “it’s on”, and the mad man actually did a bronze cast of two beer cans and Castelli actually sold them?

We can even go way back, to Manet. The moment Olympia was presented at the Salon, it was so infamously known across Paris, people flocked to it to see it in person, so much the Salon had an influx of attendees like it never had before. And the sole reason was to make fun of it lmao even fucking Courbet was there daily, pointing at laughing at ‘nakey girl staring right at me’.

Or like, when Kienholz displayed his walk-ins, in which one of them was a car with a teenage couple engaged in sex in the back seat, and the gallery had the audacity of forcing the artist to close the door and plant two body guards there not to shock the audience? And despite being outraged by this, people still went there en masse.

And I’m not even going back to the obvious influence here, papa Duchamp with his urinals, but I’ll say this: I don’t remember his name, but the dude who smashed one of Duchamp’s urinals and peed on the other is pretty on par with the guy who just ate the banana, albeit for different reasons (and, well, dude who peed in a Duchamp was arrested both times lmao).

Every single one of these instances, which caused so much outrage across the art world, appeared at a crossing point in history, somehow, and they are there for a conspicous objective: to bring out its own hypocrisy. And like papa Duchamp (who every single critic immediately establish a connection with), they are being assimilated, though faster than they were back in the day. The dude who peed on the urinal did so because he contests The Fountain being on a museum, defeating the art work’s initial purpose and proclaiming the first avant-garde’s movements ultimate failure. It should be noted that Duchamp signed 14 urinals and authenticated them as authentic reproductions (one of them smashed, another peed on lmao. Idk if the others are fully intact). And this dude with the banana is no different.

One article states something very interesting about Art Basel:

Mary Rozell, the global head of art collection at UBS Group, said the works she wanted were all snapped up. Pieces under US$1 million were going especially quickly.

"Half the stuff is sold before you get here," she said.

Amoako Boafo's portraits were all gone within seconds, and hundreds of collectors put their names on a waiting list, with prices for the artist du jour ranging from US$25,000 to US$50,000.

(...)

Mnuchin Gallery, which had an exhibition by Mr Clark last year, sold several smaller works, with prices ranging from US$150,000 to US$300,000. Michael McGinnis, a partner, said he sold one of the works during his flight to Miami. "I could have sold it five times," he said.

Ms Rozell said she finally managed to buy some art. One was a painting by Jeffrey Gibson. Another, a sculpture by Shinique Smith, whose works were on view at the UBS collectors' lounge at the fair.

"You've got to take your time," she said. "But then act quickly."

Act fast.

There’s a lot that could be said about this, and I’m not writing an essay, just rambling with the knowledge I have, and we all know how art fairs across the world serve as 1) a place to See and Be Seen, and the pruchase of expensive art works is a Thing of Status, and 2) it’s money laundering. It’s blind investment by random private auctioneers who need to put that dirty money fast onto an object they can quickly transform into an asset should they need to get rid of it---etc, etc. But like, think about the ludicrous implication here: you gotta buy fast, otherwise you’ll just get there and come out empty-handed, which for some reason, for these folks, it’s the worst that could happen. So like, it’s no wonder a guy who taped a banana onto a wall sold this shit for such a high price. I can’t point out the reason why this person bought the art work, because honestly being either money laundering or just rich person trying to invest fast into something they don’t know the value of---both sound incredibly plausible to me (in my country, there was an influx into the art market in the 80s, where people rushed to buy EVERYTHING, and it inflated the art market---and keep in mind, Portugal is a small country with barely any market at all---to the point where some of the artists who sold the most back then have fallen into oblivion, and the people who bought their works have been desperately trying to get rid of them for decades, but they are worth nothing and they refuse to get the full price back lmaooo).

This shit is mostly why I nurture a profound hatred for art fairs. Like, on paper, they’re a nice concept, but as of today, worldwide, we have over 500 art fairs everywhere, and couple this with the art market inflation and all the nasty shit we know about (take the fucking Sacklers, for example), it’s the perfect playground for us to have a French Salon multiplied by 500 where contemporary art is transformed into an Appearance Thing.

But every so often, a dude shows up and pulls some really bizarre shit and I am again reminded that there are still a lot of not exatctly Duchamps, but people like Jasper Johns or Tristan Tzara or even Robert Rauchenberg, which somehow manage to create a really poignant moment of hypocrisy. The really atrocious downside to this is that these artists exist in a fast-pacing scenario and they’re being assimilated at the speed of light. While neo-dada appeared in the 60s to confront the assimilation (thus, failure) of the first avant-garde movements, today it happens in real time.

This is where I tell you guys the banana was apparently sold with a 14-page manual, which states shit like:

It should be hung about 175 centimeters from the ground, fixed to the wall at a 37-degree angle and the banana should be changed, "depending on its aesthetic appearance", about every seven or 10 days. About the only specification omitted is the optimum length or bendiness of said banana.

(the bendiness of the banana lmao)

Also, funny correlation: Duchamp’s work was called The Fountain, but we all call it ‘the urinal’, in the same way this work is called The Comedian, but we call it ‘the banana’. Make with that information what you will lol

#momo speaks #commentary #comentario #just rambling about art #pls dont ask me for precise sources on some of these statements #i linked the direct quotes and stuff related to the art work in question to several articles #but the rest its just accumulated knowledge throughout years #they come from books and college classes and stuff I cant remember like papers and lectures #its v hard for me to know pin point exactly where i took this info from

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