#medal haul
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kazifatagar · 4 months ago
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With only 14 athletes North Korea won 6 medals at the Olympics
At the Paris Olympics, North Korea’s 14-member team made headlines by securing six medals, including two silvers and four bronzes, despite their small population of 26 million. Ranked 68th, North Korea outperformed many larger nations, showcasing prowess in sports like table tennis and wrestling. Read More LM News Siti Kasim now asked to migrate to Israel after saying Anwar should be…
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townpostin · 4 months ago
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Little Flower School Dominates CISCE Regional Taekwondo Championship
Students clinch 12 gold, 5 silver, and 1 bronze medal in impressive display Little Flower School’s taekwondo team excelled at the 2nd CISCE Regional Taekwondo Championship, winning 18 medals across categories. JAMSHEDPUR – Little Flower School students showcased exceptional skills at the 2nd CISCE Regional Taekwondo Championship, securing 18 medals including 12 gold. The championship, held on…
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wheelscomedyandmore · 1 month ago
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You Might Not Ever Guess
Captain Kangaroo passed away on January 23, 2004 as age 76 , which is odd, because he always looked to be 76. (DOB: 6/27/27 ) His death reminded me of the following story.
Some people have been a bit offended that the actor, Lee Marvin, is buried in a grave alongside 3 and 4 star generals at Arlington National Cemetery . His marker gives his name, rank (PVT) and service (USMC). Nothing else. Here's a guy who was only a famous movie star who served his time, why the heck does he rate burial with these guys? Well, following is the amazing answer:
I always liked Lee Marvin, but didn't know the extent of his Corps experiences.
In a time when many Hollywood stars served their country in the armed forces often in rear echelon posts where they were carefully protected, only to be trotted out to perform for the cameras in war bond promotions.
Lee Marvin was a genuine hero. He won the Navy Cross at Iwo Jima. There is only one higher Naval award... the Medal Of Honor
If that is a surprising comment on the true character of the man, he credits his sergeant with an even greater show of bravery.
Dialog from "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson": His guest was Lee Marvin Johnny said, "Lee, I'll bet a lot of people are unaware that you were a Marine in the initial landing at Iwo Jima ..and that during the course of that action you earned the Navy Cross and were severely wounded."
"Yeah, yeah... I got shot square in the bottom and they gave me the Cross for securing a hot spot about halfway up Suribachi. Bad thing about getting shot up on a mountain is guys getting' shot hauling you down. But Johnny, at Iwo I served under the bravest man I ever knew... We both got the cross the same day, but what he did for his Cross made mine look cheap in comparison. That dumb guy actually stood up on Red beach and directed his troops to move forward and get the hell off the beach. Bullets flying by, with mortar rounds landing everywhere and he stood there as the main target of gunfire so that he could get his men to safety. He did this on more than one occasion because his men's safety was more important than his own life.
That Sergeant and I have been lifelong friends. When they brought me off Suribachi we passed the Sergeant and he lit a smoke and passed it to me, lying on my belly on the litter and said, where'd they get you Lee?' Well Bob.. if you make it home before me, tell Mom to sell the outhouse!"
Johnny, I'm not lying, Sergeant Keeshan was the bravest man I ever knew.
The Sergeant's name is Bob Keeshan. You and the world know him as Captain Kangaroo."
On another note, there was this wimpy little man (who just passed away) on PBS, gentle and quiet. Mr. Rogers is another of those you would least suspect of being anything but what he now portrays to our youth.
But Mr. Rogers was a U.S. Navy Seal, combat-proven in Vietnam with over twenty-five confirmed kills to his name. He wore a long-sleeved sweater on TV, to cover the many tattoos on his forearm and biceps. He was a master in small arms and hand-to-hand combat, able to disarm or kill in a heartbeat.
After the war Mr. Rogers became an ordained Presbyterian minister and therefore a pacifist. Vowing to never harm another human and also dedicating the rest of his life to trying to help lead children on the right path in life. He hid away the tattoos and his past life and won our hearts with his quiet wit and charm.
America's real heroes don't flaunt what they did; they quietly go about their day-to-day lives, doing what they do best. They earned our respect and the freedoms that we all enjoy.
Look around and see if you can find one of those heroes in your midst.
Often, they are the ones you'd least suspect, but would most like to have on your side if anything ever happened.
Take the time to thank anyone that has fought for our freedom. With encouragement they could be the next Captain Kangaroo or Mr. Rogers.
Send this on will you please? Nothing will happen to you if you don't, but it will tell what a "real" HERO is made of.
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ink-perfect · 1 month ago
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obsessed bf!gojo x gn!reader ⋆. based on: 22 - lil candy paint, bhad bhabie
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gojo had a bad habit.
a bad habit of blowing up your phone.
it wasn’t the 'three texts in a row' kind of blowing up, either.
oh no, gojo satoru didn’t do small-scale chaos.
it was an art form for him. the type of masterpiece that made your phone buzz off your nightstand at 3 a.m. with thirty consecutive messages that alternated between blurry selfies, close-ups of his sunglasses, and texts like:
“hey👋 (with the intention of getting midnight sushi)”
“do u think panda would let me dye him pink? 🤔”
“pick up plzzz i jsut saw the funniest video on instagram but i accidnetally exited tje app it and cant find it anymore so i'm jsut going to explain it to you in excruciatign detail”
and tonight was no different—except this time, it came after your first real argument.
you couldn’t even remember what had set it off anymore, but it had ended with you storming off and gojo… well, doing whatever gojo does when someone’s mad at him (eating mochi and sulking).
soon enough, after an hour or so of no contact, the first barrage had begun: thirty consecutive texts ranging from the initial
“i’m sorry 🥺👉👈”
to a dramatic
“why do you hate me? 😭��� (don't answer that.)”
you’d ignored all of them, determined to let him stew.
but then the calls begun.
ring after ring, voicemail after voicemail, starting out with intense professions of love that slowly faded into desperate pleas for you to call him back, text him back, to respond just once.
and when those went unanswered too, he escalated.
your phone buzzed on your nightstand, flashing yet another text. this time, it came with a photo—gojo lying facedown on what appeared to be megumi’s couch, his hand clutching an empty box of tissues. the caption read:
“i’ve been crying for 84 years 😢 come back pls”
you rolled your eyes, but found the corner of your mouth twitching up despite yourself. he was impossible.
another buzz. this one said,
“fine if ur not gonna answer just know ur the light of my life and i’ll literally wither away like an unwatered houseplant if u don’t forgive me soon 😭 also ur socks are still in my room do u want me to wash them or nah”
the buzz after that said,
“actually nah i'm not bothered to wash them"
and then another buzz.
"also u look hotter when ur mad 🥰”
the audacity of this man.
you let your impulses get the better of you and texted back a stern "leave. me. alone."
and not even a second later, your phone screen lit up with gojo's face for the umpteenth time.
you groaned, snatching it up and finally swiping to answer to put an end to all of this.
“gojo, what part of ‘leave me alone’ don’t you understand?!”
“oh my god,” he gasped, his voice overflowing with fake relief. “you’re alive!”
“i—”
“you weren’t answering, so i thought maybe you’d been kidnapped! or fallen down a well! or—”
“i ignored you,” you interrupted sharply. “on purpose.”
“no yeah, i got that,” he said breezily, completely unfazed. “but we're talking now! the devil sure does work hard, but gojo works harderrrrr."
"gojo—"
"so, how much did ya miss me?”
"gojo."
"also did you see my text about the socks?”
"gojo!"
“aaaaand i’m outside your window by the way.”
“you’re what?”
“outside!” he chirped back like it was the most normal thing in the world.
sure enough, when you yanked open your curtains, there he was—gojo satoru, standing on your lawn in a hoodie two sizes too big, clutching a mismatched bouquet of convenience store snacks and flowers that you could just tell he had made himself.
“ta-da~!” he grinned into the phone as you watched him hold up the haul like it was an olympic medal. “i come bearing gifts!”
you gawked at him. “are you serious?”
“deadly,” he said, his smile widening so much you could even see it from your vantage point. “i brought your favourite snacks, and also, i stole these flowers from my neighbour’s garden. don’t tell anyone.”
“oh my god.” you smacked your forehead, torn between laughing and drawing your curtains shut. “it’s three in the morning.”
“yeah, well, you didn’t answer my texts,” he said, pouting dramatically. “do you have any idea how sad that made me? i’m so sad, baby, like, devastated. i swear i saw my life flash before my eyes.”
you folded your arms, mock unimpressed. “what’s sad is that you think this is going to work.”
“it’s already working,” he shot back smugly. “you’re talking to me, aren’t you?”
you hated that he was right. you hated even more that your annoyance was quickly being replaced by amusement. he was lucky he was cute.
“toru, just go home,” you sighed, though your voice lacked its earlier venom.
“not until you forgive me,” he declared, dropping to one knee with such theatrics you were surprised broadway hadn't whisked him away already. “or at least let me in so i can grovel properly.”
“you’re unbelievable.”
“yeah. unbelievably in love with you.”
you threw a pillow at the window, even though it wouldn’t reach him, giving yourself a minute to think.
okay, more like a few seconds.
to be fair, you were sure he had learnt his lesson. and, well...you were craving ramen, which happened to be placed front and centre in his haphazard bouquet.
“fine!" you whisper-yelled into the phone, a smile already creeping its way onto your face despite your best efforts to stay mad. "but if you wake up my neighbours, i swear i'm locking you out.”
his grin practically lit up the yard. “deal!”
and just like that, you were stomping down the stairs, blanket in hand, ready to let in the most exasperating, ridiculous, adorable man you’d ever met.
because, really, how could you stay mad at him?
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masterlist
© ink-perfect; est. 2024.
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devil-in-hiding · 4 months ago
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Do you think farmer!reader would ever look up the boys? See some of their photos of their primes and in uniform and get a little too invested in their history. Maybe a little hot and bothered by a medal ceremony photo she finds for one of their bigger missions and getting caught by one of the men??Maybe one of her searches sets off an alarm because they're actively being searched for 👀
oooo this is tasty
while i think reader knows better, and the guys would actively watch over her shoulder anytime she uses her old computer
BUT
Sneaking off when all four of them are asleep after a long day of cleaning up the land, hauling hay, tending to the weeds, cutting dead branches off the trees surrounded the property
using incognito to search up Captain Price Task Force
and there they are, several years younger in some photos, but it’s those same smiles beaming back at you, and it makes you giggle to see Ghost once wore a mask with a skull, said man having said ditched his ski mask entirely in the past months
you feel your heart flutter at the sight of them in their formal uniforms, clean cut and handsome
but when you creep down the hall to look in their bedroom, to see all four of your men sprawled across one another with the dogs somehow squeezed between all of them
you wouldn’t trade the relaxed, jean and flannel wearing men in your home for the world
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wileys-russo · 11 months ago
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in the shadows II a.putellas x sister!reader
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based around this request here - haven't decided if i like or hate this yet? but here we go! in the shadows II a.putellas x sister!reader
"mija! can you get the door please?" you heard your mami yell out from the kitchen as the knocking first sounded. "why? they have keys." you called back, quite invested in the latest episode of your favourite drama.
"just get it por favor!" you rolled your eyes and flicked the tv off, hauling yourself off the sofa you'd been lazing out on with a grunt and a stretch.
"vale! i'm coming jesus christ." you groaned as the knocking continued, pulling the door open with a deep seeded scowl of annoyance.
"i hope the wind changes and you are stuck like this, permanently ugly." alba teased, pinching your cheek and pushing past you making a beeline for the kitchen.
"alba!" your eldest sister huffed, being left with all of their luggage as you rolled your eyes. "gracias pequeña." alexia sighed as you helped her bring everything inside, kissing your head and pulling you into a hug. "hola." you mumbled into her shoulder as she echoed back the greeting.
"alexia!" you groaned as you tried to pull away only for her to hold on tighter. "no i never get to see you anymore, i am making up for lost time." your sister stated firmly as she started to walk toward the kitchen causing you to stumble as you were still held captive in her arms.
"you are so needy, i saw you like two weeks ago!" you struggled in her grip, truly no match for her strength. "you once used to love and appreciate me, worshipping the ground I walked on and following me everywhere always wanting me around, i remember those days." alexia sighed dramatically, gently smacking your cheek with her hand.
"get off!" you huffed, eventually pushing her away only to be pulled backwards into yet another hug. "are we sure she is not adopted mami?" alba asked, wrapping your arms around you as if you were wearing a straight jacket and holding them firmly behind your back as you wriggled to break free.
"sí she hates affection, like an alien." alexia joined in with a smug grin as you tried to kick and hit your sisters shins. "how do you have a girlfriend? so miserable and angry all the time, maybe we should give her a medal for putting up with you." alba teased, kissing your cheek as you huffed and struggled to break out of her grip, a head shorter than her.
"she still cannot get free, so cute." alexia joined in, cooing and pinching your cheek as your teeth snapped at her. "oh the biting phase is back, watch out." alba grinned as your legs lashed out wildly trying to connect with either one of them.
"i'm only like this around the two of you because you never leave me alone!" you grunted, bucking and kicking hopelessly much to the amusement of your older sisters who had always found pleasure in teasing and picking on you.
thats not to say they would ever allow anyone else to push you around though, that role firmly occupied only by them and they'd been fiercely protective of you your entire life in every other aspect.
"vamos, let your sister be." eli waved to the two of them with a disapproving look. you were let go and immediately launched at whoever was closest which in this case was alba, chasing her into the living room.
"do not break anything!" eli yelled out as a war cry was heard and something crashed to the ground, thumps and grunts echoing as the two of you rolled around wrestling like children on the living room carpet.
now a few days before christmas you were all due to spend the holidays together, cramming back into your family home which always lead to some sort of squabble between the three of you when you were forced to live on top of one another for the week.
"go make sure they do not kill each other please." your mami sighed a few moments later when you and alba were yet to return, alexia pushing herself up and setting off to find wherever the two of you had dissapeared to.
your relationship with both of your older sisters despite the teasing and the age gap was always incredibly close, and had only seemed to get better now none of you lived together anymore, alexia busy with her football career, alba with her job and you with law school.
well, you used to be.
"-no you need to tell her. we cannot keep this up forever!" alexia paused by alba's bedroom door which was slightly ajar, frowning at the hushed voices coming from inside.
"not forever! just not over the holidays, you know mami is already stressed with everyone coming over and she always sends herself sick and crazy preparing and cooking and cleaning. its not the right time alba!" you whispered back with a firm shake of your head.
"when will be the right time? you have made excuses for weeks now and you are making me lie because you're living with me instead of at school. someone will find out and then i get in trouble for not telling anyone you dropped out!" alba warned sternly as alexia's eyes widened and you both jumped as the door flew open.
"you dropped out of law school?" you withered under the piercingly sharp glare of your eldest sister as alba hurried to close the door again.
"ale-" you started but fell silent at yet another angry look flung your way. "when? do not lie to me." your sister warned firmly as alba sat back on the bed with you.
"five months ago." you answered honestly, even alba's eyes now bugging out of her head and she smacked your arm. "joder! you told me three weeks ago. where the hell were you living?" she scolded, both their gazes burning into you.
"with mariana." you again answered honestly. "oh when i get my hands on that girl. she should have known better than to let you drop out, i bet she encouraged it!" alexia scoffed shaking her head.
"yeah well you won't need to worry about seeing her again to kill her because we broke up." you mumbled, gaze dropping to the floor as you picked at a loose thread on your shorts, the ripped denim edges now suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.
"oh great! so you drop out of school, move in with your girlfriend, your girlfriend breaks up you and then you move in with alba and make her lie to everyone." alexia laughed but it was a bitter noise which stuck in the back of her throat, your eyes snapping up toward her.
"why do you assume she broke up with me?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper as alexia failed to hear but alba didn't, her frown melting from one of anger to concern.
"ale." alba warned quietly, catching the new look you were sporting as your fists balled by your side. "no! you do not get to defend her and coddle her alba. everyone makes excuses for her!" your eldest sister warned sending the brunette beside you quiet, but it didn't stop her hand from finding yours, gently forcing it out of a fist and squeezing it supportively.
"you are always going on about how everyone treats you like a baby. well look at how you act!" alexia gestured wildly with her hands.
"you're supposed to be smart. to study and learn and finish school, then get a great job, help people and help make change like you wanted to. you have so much potential hermanita why would you just throw that all away? do you not care about your life? your future? a career?" alexia lectured, voice growing louder as your eyes flickered nervously toward the door aware your mami was only a few feet away in the kitchen.
"alexia i-" you tried to answer her questions but it would appear they were rhetorical as she held up a finger silencing you. "you are going back to school. do you know how much even a year costs? no you don't because you didn't pay for it! and you promised me." alexia hit you where it really hurt as your face crumpled.
when you'd first floated the thought of law school it had been on the floor of her apartment, the three of you laid down on the floor the night she moved in testing out the new white shaggy rug alexia had insisted on buying for the place she'd bought after she signed a new contract with barca.
you hadn't finished high school yet but you hardly needed to try, you'd always been smart, book smart anyway, and you passed through school with ease. much to the infuriation of your friends who spent hours and hours studying for tests you'd finish a half hour early and that was after you'd already gone through all your answers twice to double check.
"how many years is law school?" you'd asked suddenly, both your sisters sending you a perplexed look as you rolled your eyes and snatched alba's phone, your own out of reach on the counter as you googled your question.
"why?" alexia pushed herself into a sitting position to look down at you as alba grabbed her phone back and flicked your ear for taking it.
"just thinking." you shrugged, moving your hands behind your head. "about going to law school?" alba had asked now as again you shrugged.
"maybe. oh! can get we get sushi for dinner?"
for the weeks that followed that night you continued to do your own research, hauled up in your room reading through the different kinds of law, lengths of study, different schools, but all of that came screeching to a halt when you'd looked at the cost.
though you'd tried to keep it to yourself there wasn't much you could get past alexia. alba was much easier to lie to or manipulate as you needed but your eldest sister seemed to have been born with a built in lie detector.
which was part of the reason you'd avoided her so much these last few months for fear of her finding out you weren't in school anymore.
but it was just after you'd graduated when of course the questions started. what would you do now, where did you see yourself in a few years time, what were your goals for the future? and all accompanied by the growing pressure of your families boasting that you were so smart you could go anywhere and do anything.
only, you couldn't do the one thing you actually thought you might be good at.
you'd applied for a scholarship without telling anyone, a last final hope that maybe you could make something work. but when you got the letter back in the mail informing it had gone to a different applicant you'd abandoned the thought all together.
but of course there was one person who saw right through your attempts to evade the questions and the compliments, alexia.
you'd all just finished having dinner after your graduation ceremony, the table of your family and friends loud and rowdy all drinking to celebrate you as you watched on with a smile, your eldest sister knocking her knee against yours.
nodding for you to step outside with her you'd followed, the two of you slipping away to the balcony of the restaurant which given the late hour of night was a lot quieter as you exhaled and relished in the momentary peace.
"so, law school." alexia had started, catching you off guard as the walls you'd had up all night when it came to the questions of your future faltered for a moment. "the scholarship did not go through." again, she was right on target.
"how did you know i even-" you frowned and shook your head in bewilderment as she only shrugged, refusing to disclose an answer. "its the cost nena, sí?" alexia spoke, softer now as you hesitated before nodding and exhaling, the walls tumbling down.
"you have to pay for the first year up front. then the next two years you are put onto a program where you do not pay until you graduate and start to work. like a debt! it gets paid off overtime with interest. but that first year alone, it is too much." you admitted with a shake of your head as alexia only hummed.
"please don't tell mami. she would do something stupid like sell the car or mortgage the house again for a loan, she has already given up so much for us." you pleaded quietly, eyes baring into hers as the taller girl looked away.
"ale please! i am already looking into other scholarships for other courses, other schools, other options." you begged, which wasn't a lie. "no." your sister replied simply as you deflated, looking upwards with a deep sigh.
giving up on the conversation you stood from your chair to head back inside, intending to enjoy one last night of peace before alexia would force you to come clean to your family.
"ay hermanita." your sisters hand grabbed your wrist, nodding for you to sit back down. "no, you will go to law school." alexia corrected as you took your seat, sending her a frown. "ale i already said-" her hand silenced you.
"i will pay for the first year." alexia stated firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument though you were never one to listen to her. "no you will not!" you scoffed, again trying to stand and leave but she tugged you back to your seat.
"alexia." you sighed deeply as her hands found yours and forced you to look at her. "hermana, you are so smart. smarter than me, than alba, than most people i know! you have so much potential it is a waste for you not to use your mind to learn and to do good because of something like money." your sister spoke kindly but firmly, eyes locked with yours.
"you are not going to drop this, are you?" you asked, lips hinting at a smile. "no, you know me better than that." alexia smiled smugly, dropping your hands to pull you into a tight hug. "and you really need school if you cannot even win an argument with me. some lawyer!" alexia teased softly.
"i don't even know what to say ale." you exhaled shakily as your sister kissed your forehead, lips lingering there.
"start with a thank you hermana. we can call it your birthday and christmas present for the next...ten years." alexia mumbled against your skin as your body vibrated with laughter against hers. "thank you, thank you so much."
"but pequeña promise me you will make the most of it. that you will go and you will learn and do great things, greater than any of us." alexia stared down at you as you nodded, promising her with a smile.
the moment was interrupted by alba bursting outside as you broke apart, slinging her arms around both of you with a cheer and a lopsided grin.
"vamos hermanas! time for shots."
"that is not fair alexia. i never asked you to pay." you spoke up again, standing to your feet with a frown as alexia scoffed. "you might not have asked but you also did not do much to fight me on it, did you?" alexia bit back, squaring up and taking a step forward as you refused to back down.
"are you even going to let me speak? or just talk at me, after all i know how much you love the sound of your own voice capitana." you spat, tone now laced with venom.
"vale! i think we should all just take some time and some space to calm down before we continue." alba stepped in, trying to push her way between the two of you sensing it was bordering on ugly.
"and how could you let this happen! you kept her little secret and you did nothing to try and change her mind?" alexia instead turned her anger on her other younger sister who pulled a face.
"alexia you have not even heard her out for five minutes. i have had three weeks of conversations with her hermana, you are not being fair." alba defended you, having reacted similarly when you'd first come to her and realizing her mistake once you explained yourself.
"fair! whats not fair is her giving up the moment something gets hard. you found school easy but not everything will be easy for you! that is what being an adult is, if you want to be treated like one." alexia attempted to push her way past alba who held firm despite being the shorter of the two.
"ale that is enough. walk away, calm down and hear her out afterwards." alba spoke calmly again, though you knew both of them well enough to see she was near to meeting alexia at the same level of anger.
"no! i have never been so disappointed in you, ever. i thought i was investing in you and your potential but if you are so happy to throw it away and drop out of school? fine! but what a waste it was then." alexia spat, glowering at you as hurt flashed across your face.
"you dropped out of school?" all three of your heads whipped to the door which was now open again, your mami standing there with a face like thunder as you shrunk, wishing a sinkhole would form and swallow you up.
"mami-" you started as alba and alexia stepped away from one another, all the anger which had once radiated around the room sucked out in a second.
"no. come!" she pointed for you to step outside as your body deflated and you made your way out of alba's room, the older girl moving to follow but eli held up her hand again.
"you two stay here, fix this." she ordered, gesturing between them before pulling the door closed as her footsteps sounded in the distance. a pause of silence passed where you could have heard a pin drop, before the sound of eli's yelling echoed through the house and both alexia and alba winced at the harsh catalan bouncing from wall to wall.
neither girl spoke a word sat side by side on alba's bed as they listened in to the entire lecture, not hearing you even say a single word back before a door was heard slamming and there was silence again.
sharing a look both older girls left the room, finding your mami dishing up lunch. "eat please." the woman instructed calmly as they both sat down at the table. "where is she?" alba spoke first as eli took her own seat.
"your sister went for a walk." the woman answered curtly, anger still present in her voice as alexia remained quiet, picking at her food and ignoring the looks sent her way by her sister across the table.
lunch being painfully awkward the silence was broken by the sound of the door opening again as you stepped inside, alba the only one to look toward you and noticing your red and puffy eyes where you'd clearly been crying.
"mami." you tried, the woman ignoring you as she continued to eat. "mami por favor, can we just talk about this?" you requested softly, voice dangerously close to breaking.
"mami please, at least look at me." you all but begged, voice cracking as alba tore her own eyes away unable to watch as yours filled up again with tears.
but when again you received nothing in return you deflated even further, shoulders slumping as you dropped your keys on the counter and silently made your way to your childhood room, door closing with a gentle click.
"mami." alba frowned, the woman pushing her chair back with a scrape, collecting their empty plates and wordlessly walking to the kitchen.
"mierda!" alexia swore as suddenly alba kicked her under the table with a glare. "puta." the older girl spat back rubbing her shin which started to throb. "this is all your fault, big mouth." alba huffed, pushing back her own chair and heading for your room.
but as hours passed she was unsuccessful in trying to coax you out or to let her in, your door remaining locked and the entire family on edge, a frosty silence falling throughout the normally bright and joyous home.
alexia seemed unfazed, laying on the lounge watching the barca men play, arms crossed and a placid look on her face. "ale!" she looked up at the call of her name. "i'm going to the store mija." eli informed as her daughter nodded, the older woman out the door before she could even blink.
"what?" alexia sighed as alba appeared again, blocking her view of the tv with arms crossed. "you know what." her younger sister retorted. "how is this my fault? she is the one who made all the mistakes, mami was going to find out eventually anyway!" alexia defended herself as alba rolled her eyes and grabbed the remote, flicking off the tv.
"alba!" "alexia!" her sister mocked in the same tone, taking a seat beside her. "well if you won't hear her out, i will talk." and with that she spent the next ten minutes explaining everything alexia had failed to hear from you, the blondes stony features softening.
"oh." was all she managed to get out. "oh!" alba repeated sarcastically, shoving the older girl.
"see? now do you see why this is your fault? you didn't give her a chance to speak and you did not see her when she came home before ale, you did not see her break when mami ignored her." alba shook her head.
"you need to fix it. and today! we cannot be like this over the holidays." alba warned as alexia nodded in agreement, at a slight loss for words for once.
when again alba was met with silence as she knocked gently and called out your name, alexia took over and opened your door using a butter knife to easily pick the lock. but when the door popped open, they were only met with an empty room and an open window.
"i know where she will be."
~
"alba leave me be por favor i am not in the mood." you warned with a sigh, hearing the footsteps approach you from behind. your body tensed as they stopped beside you, the taller girl taking a seat on the sand but taking caution to leave a reasonable gap between the two of you.
"no way." you scoffed quietly, moving to stand and walk away before alexia grabbed your wrist. "please. i am not here to argue or to yell, just to listen." the blonde promised softly as you tugged your hand free and gave her a cautious look.
"i promise hermana."
not finding the same burning anger from before present in her eyes you took a seat again, scooting a little further away and tucking your knees to your chest as the wind picked up a little.
"did you pick the lock?" you broke the silence first, refusing to look at her as your eyes remained locked on the horizon. "sí. did alba show you how to sneak out?" alexia asked, also staring out at the water with a slight smile.
"years ago." you answered, having been caught once by alba when you were trying to get out the front door to go to a party she for once had taken pity on you, showing you how to safely climb down the side of the house and out the back gate when you were just fifteen.
granted she did also use that particular instance to blackmail you into doing her laundry for a week, so really pity may have been the wrong word to use.
"good, i showed her first." alexia smiled properly now, pulling her hood over her head in an attempt to block out the wind whistling sharply through her ears.
"so. alba told you?" you again broke the silence which fell, eyes dropping to the ground as you traced patterns in the sand with your fingers. "i would like to hear it from you." alexia spoke, her stomach knotting up at the memory of the harsh words she'd slung at you hours ago.
"you weren't completely wrong, school was hard, really hard." you started with a sigh and a frown, focused on the sand beneath your fingertips. "none of my friends are studying, they all chose to take gap years and travel, together." your tone shifted, a slight bitterness to it.
"leaving you behind." alexia spoke softly, glancing toward you as you nodded. "i just-" you started, clearly struggling to get your words out. "i don't not like school, its hard but i want to be a lawyer, i think." you continued, shaking the sand off your hand.
"all of my teachers speak about how much of a commitment law is once you are licensed to practice and once you start in a firm." you looked back out to the ocean, well aware of your sisters eyes boring into the side of your head.
"i have to do two hundred hours of placement minimum, a hundred hours each year after the first. and i just...i am only twenty one alexia, i like learning about law but i do not want to be a lawyer right now." you admitted, chin resting on your knees as you fingers picked at your shoe laces.
"so you dropped out." alexia had only already put the pieces together but wanted you to know she was listening. "yes. but they hold my place in the course for a year, that is the bit that nobody ever lets me explain." you murmured, voice barely above a whisper and almost snatched away in the wind.
"oh pequeña, i should have let you speak." alexia mumbled, guilt wracking her body as you hummed. "i am so so sorry hermana you were right not to tell me, i just messed everything up." alexia sighed deeply, rubbing her face tiredly.
"yes you did. mami won't even look at me!" you puffed air from your nose, stabbing the sand angrily with your finger. "we can fix that, i will fix this." alexia promised, taking her chances as she moved to be right by your side, relieved when you did not make an attempt to move.
"i have a job you know? thats what i've been doing since i left, just working and saving." you confessed, still stabbing at the sand and refusing to look at your sister.
"i work reception at a dental clinic, not far from your apartment actually." you chuckled a little at that though you were never too worried about running into her. you knew her training schedule too well and the chances of the alexia putellas stepping foot in a public dental clinic was slim to none.
"i am going to save up enough to pay you back, it will take time but i will pay it back, all of it." your face hardened again which didn't go unnoticed by your sister who frowned. "pequeña-" she started, a hand coming to sit on your knee which you pushed away.
"no, you cannot change my mind. i am not having you hold it over me for the rest of my life alexia. i wish i had never said yes!" you warned, finally meeting her eyes though it broke your sisters heart to see the obvious pain and trouble swirling behind them.
"hey i wont-" "you already did alexia. or have you gotten so old you fail to remember conversations a few hours ago? if you can even call yelling at me a conversation." you reminded sharply, frown set back into your face as you shuffled away from her slightly.
"i am not old." was all she retorted back in offence, causing a small snicker to escape from you as your features softened slightly. "you're basically thirty, that is halfway to sixty." you mumbled, hint of a smile on your lips which dissapeared as quickly as it formed.
"i am twenty nine." her arm stretched out to shove you lightly, eyes on the horizon and a smile on her lips. "still old, should be in a museum." your own arm shoved her back, sharing a quick glance of amusement momentarily.
"know what will be in the museums? all of my trophies." she smirked as you rolled your eyes. "they will need to pry them from mami's cold dead fingers first, or get to them before alba sells them all on ebay." you joked, the frostiness from before beginning to melt slightly.
"i should make a list, she really will sell them." alexia sighed with a shake of her head. "probably already has, or some of your smelly boots and match shirts." you smiled, your sister shaking her head beside you.
"i do not want you to pay me back hermanita." the conversation shifted as you now sighed. "ale-" you tried but she cut you off. "no. at least not yet, if you really want to i cannot stop you. if you decide to go back and you become a big fancy lawyer we can talk about it then, but promise me you will not use your savings from the last few months." alexia warned firmly, your head turning to look at her.
"promise me." she repeated, holding out her pinky. "really?" you gave her a look. "sí, unbroken agreement." she wiggled her finger as you sighed and gave in, locking your own with hers as you both leaned in to kiss your hands.
"i really am so sorry pequeña. i said some very nasty things, i did not mean them but i still said them and that wasn't okay. but i love you very much and i did mean it when i said you are smart, so so smart." alexia again moved closer as you kept her gaze.
"but your life should be yours to do with it what you want, and if that is not law that is okay. you could do anything! the world is yours if you want to take it." alexia smiled sincerely which you finally returned, settling her anxiety.
"i think i am going to travel for a little bit, see more of the world." you spoke up, alexia nodding as you both looked back out to the ocean, your head falling to her shoulder. "you should, it is beautiful. so long as you come home afterwards!" she nudged you with a grin.
"maybe, i might fall in love with the world and never want to come back!" you teased as your sister scoffed. "there isn't a corner of the world where you could hide from me hermanita." she threatened playfully, a gentle hint of insecurity in her voice.
"i would always come home. i'd miss alba too much!" you shrugged, alexia pushing you with a glare. "what? we had all those years at home together when you were off playing football to bond, you're second on the list now, maybe even third if we're including mapi." you grinned, your sister pulling you into a headlock.
"i am always number one, i even have it on a trophy!" alexia reminded with a smirk as you struggled to pull away. "i was six when i gave that to you!" you protested, flinching as her fingers dug into your ribs eliciting a loud laugh to fall from your lips.
"you used to follow me around everywhere, my little shadow." the blonde smiled fondly and let you up as you huffed and fixed your hair.
"i didn't know any better!" your eyes rolled as you halfheartedly punched her shoulder. "and besides you hated it! you used to always tell me off and yell at me to go away." you chuckled at the memory.
"now its you yelling that at me, full circle." alexia mocked, pinching your cheek and draping her arm over your shoulder pulling you into her side, a comfortable silence falling once more as you both watched the waves crash.
"do you remember when you tried to drown me here?" you spoke up, a smirk ghosting your lips. "i did not try to drown you!" the older girl protested sending you a glare.
"you dragged me out past the waves and threw me in, before i knew how to swim!" "sí, and what happened? you learned to swim, you are welcome." "that was not a thank you."
"so what happened with mariana?" alexia questioned curiously. "nothing." you shrugged lightly, the look of disbelief having you roll your eyes.
"if she cheated or she hurt you or she left you or anything, i will take mapi and we will take a baseball bat and we will-" alexia started to explain as you pushed her hands down where she had started to demonstrate just what the baseball bat was for.
"no! nothing like that. when i moved in with her after leaving school things just sort of...fizzled. i think we just saw too much of each other and we decided we were better off as friends, we still talk sometimes but not very much." you confessed honestly as alexia pulled you into another hug, kissing the crown of your head.
"vamos pequeña we should head back. i need to speak with mami, i will fix my mistake." alexia promised as she pushed herself to her feet, holding out a hand to help you up.
"alexia!" you huffed as she started to pull you up but let go, sending your body tumbling ass first into the sand with a grunt. "you always fall for that." your older sister snickered, turning and starting to walk away.
"puta." you mumbled under your breath, standing up and brushing off the loose sand before catching up to her. "never gets old." alexia sighed happily sending you a smirk as you shoved her, the two of you falling into step.
"know what is old though? you." "joder, i am only twenty nine!"
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dangerpronebuddie · 20 days ago
Text
The Right Thing
I'm doing the right thing
Eddie whispers as he scrolls through listings in El Paso. The neighborhood in his price range looks the same as he remembers it, when he'd walk home with Shannon and his best friend Chewie. The house he picks used to belong to a mean old woman who yelled at him for pulling her garbage bin up to the house for her one day.
I'm doing the right thing
Eddie assures himself as he packs away the life he'd built the past six years. His medals he still doesn't like looking at get tucked away with the pictures of Christopher he hasn't stopped looking at since his son walked out the door. The Hildy coffee maker, now well used and well cared for, gets packed alongside the cheap stand mixer Buck always griped about.
I'm doing the right thing
Eddie convinces himself when the 118 throw a farewell party for him. Bobby hugs him tighter than his own father ever has. There are actual tears in Chim's eyes when he claps a hand on his back and tells him not to be a stranger. Hen leaves a lipstick print on his cheek that gets smeared as he wipes at his own eyes.
I'm doing the right thing
Eddie says as he stands just beyond glass doors. Buck nods and ducks his head as he sniffs. Eddie places a hand on his shoulder, his thumb finding the base of his throat like the space there was carved just for him. Buck bats his hand away in favor of tackling him in a hug that lasts longer than any embrace Eddie's ever had.
I'm doing the right thing
Eddie repeats like a mantra as he unpacks the memories he'd so carefully tucked away. The old woman's house doesn't feel like a home. The few things he allowed himself to bring deserve a place filled with love. The photos and his medals and the Hildy coffee maker remain safely in their boxes.
I'm doing the right thing
Eddie says as his voice shakes. His mother can do nothing but stare like she's seen a ghost. Like she wasn't expecting him to try. It only spurs him on. Brings back a fight in him he'd long thought lost.
I'm doing the right thing
Eddie argues before Christopher slams the door in his face. Eddie waves off his mother's questions and his father's advice. He hasn't done anything right in... his whole life maybe, but this? He has to get right. He talks- it feels like- to the door. Reminisces about Shannon. Explains what he really wanted from Kim. Asks what Christopher wants from him.
I'm doing the right thing
Eddie says happily as he tells Chris the plan. Chris smiles in that 'told you so' way Shannon always did- and a little like Buck too- and Eddie pretends not to see the tears in his son's eyes as he agrees. Eddie is still surprised, even though Christopher's only request was for Eddie to do what was right for him.
I'm doing the right thing
Eddie knows as he and Chris return home. It's a rocky start, they both knew it would be, but they talk. They give each other time and space to cool off, but they have each other. They're gonna be okay.
I'm doing the right thing
Eddie feels as keys jingle in the door. Buck hauls him into a hug that shakes, then settles them both. Eddie tells Buck he was right not to give back his key, and Buck gets that 'told you so' smile on his face. The three of them spend the day inside the house that, for the first time in months, feels like home. And when Eddie kisses Buck after Chris goes to bed, the mantra he'd been repeating to himself fades away.
I did the right thing. For me.
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hheaven-sentt · 1 year ago
Text
devotion
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summary: because love doesn't quite capture it | leon kennedy x partner!reader
word count: 2.4k
warnings: depictions of injuries, angst if you squint, mentions of alcohol consumption, yearning, mutual pining, partners to friends to lovers
notes: BACK FROM THE DEAD W A VENGEANCE. my semester has finished and my second one doesn't start until january so i will be posting for once. college is kicking my ass like all the time so it puts everything else on pause for me anyway ily all | ao3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The dress feels itchy against your skin. You don’t want to go to this event, so you can’t imagine how Leon feels. He doesn’t even like when you thank him for doing the dishes, so you wonder how he might behave up on a stage to receive a medal. You stretch behind you, reaching for the zipper. Wordlessly, Leon turns to you and zips it up himself. Of course he does; that’s just Leon.
“This is weird,” he says. It’s barely a whisper, breath dusting over your shoulder as he says it. You nod with a sigh.
“I wouldn’t say weird,” you return. You watch his eyes in the mirror. They hover somewhere on your forehead. “Not normal, but not weird,” “I think it’s weird,” he says, and steps away. You nod again, because what else can you say?
Working with Leon has its ups and downs. He’s too quiet some days, and you have to fill in the gaps yourself. Or he’s too loud–sometimes without even saying anything–and you have to figure out how to deal with it. Or he’s just Leon; he laughs and jokes, he helps cook dinner, he doesn’t talk about work. You like those days the best. Had you seen these versions of Leon when you were assigned to him almost ten years ago, you would’ve laughed. Ten years ago, you couldn’t imagine being this close to someone, to care as much as you do about someone you’re paid to be around.
You suppose there’s layers to it, layers you haven’t fully unraveled yet. You know only a few things for certain: Leon is your partner, he is also your unofficial roommate, and you care about him more than you care about others.
“Are you ready?” he asks. He’s standing in the doorway of the bedroom, the light from the hallway making him look like an angel descending to relay a message from God. You swallow and nod.
“Just need my shoes,” you say, moving to the bed and sliding your shoes across the floor to be in front of you. Leon bends down without a word to help you fasten them.
When he looks up at you, he looks less like your partner and more like someone you’re meant to love. An ache resonates within you, a need to reach out a brush your fingers through his darkened hair. He shifts his gaze to your upper arm. Gingerly, he runs the tips of his fingers over a scar that spans from your elbow to your clavicle. It’s ugly and red, courtesy of the nasty burn you’d sustained there a few years ago. The ridged skin is unfeeling as Leon skirts his hand across it, tracing it from your elbow to your shoulder.
“I remember when you got this,” he says absently. His fingers dance across your skin, and you wish the scar didn’t run so deep so you could feel his ministrations. “Thought I’d lost you,”
He says nothing more, just stands up and offers his hand to you to help you off the bed. You take it, and he hauls you up with ease. He twists out of the room like a ghost. You follow him, like you always do.
The scar is one of a few you’ve come to own. You remember the day you got it, too. For whatever reason, you replay the moment in your head over and over in the taxi on the way to the gala. It makes your skin burn.
It was supposed to be a normal day, a normal mission. Go in, extract, get out. Three simple steps that you had done a hundred thousand times before. Leon stood beside you, always offering to enter a room first. You’ll admit, years removed from the situation, you should’ve been more careful, should’ve listened to what he was saying. But you were so angry at him. You felt weak, unnecessary. You remember shoving past him and through a door you hadn’t known was connected to a trigger. Almost as soon as your boot touched the concrete on the other side of the threshold, your hearing went out. It felt like you were standing miles away from a nuclear blast, and you had felt the effects of the delayed shockwave. You were knocked to the ground in an instant, but you didn’t feel pain–not yet at least. When you woke up in the hospital a day later, Leon was asleep in the chair beside you.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he’d said. You vowed not to.
“Do you think they’ll at least have an open bar?” he says now, drawing you back into the world. You turn away from the window of the cab to look at him. He’s staring at his hands, forcing a small smile.
“They better,” you say, reaching over and settling a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you. “It’s the only reason I’m going,”
This turns his smile genuine, and he even offers an eyeroll. You squeeze his shoulder, bracelets jingling with the motion. His eyes are on you, and you feel as hot as fresh sin. You hate this; hate that he makes you feel this way, hate that he is so beautiful, hate that you can’t seem to shake this deep seated love you harbor for him. You miss him when he looks away and you remove your hand.
The gala is overwhelming. Leon stays near you, hand hovering near your own. You wish he would reach out and take it. You debate the consequences of doing it yourself.
Breath hot on the shell of your ear, Leon whispers, “You think our taxes went into this?”
You suppress a laugh, tightening your lips into a thin line to fight a smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised, but I’ll pretend like this was all donated,”
“You can consider taxes a donation if you really think about it,” he says, gliding across the floor with you toward an empty table. You snort.
“I think that depends on what your definition of donation is,” you say. He pulls out your chair for you before pushing it in, then takes his own seat beside you. His legs are angled toward you like he only plans on talking to you.
“I think you underestimate my ability to bend definitions to suit my needs,” he says. You laugh again.
You like this version of Leon, and you know that it won’t last very long so you should hold onto it while it’s here. An old jazz song rings out from the speakers across the hall, and the lights catch his eyes just right. They’re really blue, as true blue as blue gets. They’re your favorite shade of blue. If you could paint your living room that color, you would. It’s a soft blue, like the crest of a wave blue, like the sky just after dawn blue, like two perfect oceans set into his skull. There’s a hairline scar that runs between the crows feet of his left eye, one you ache to reach out and trace.
That’s the best way to describe how you feel when you look at Leon: aching. It’s desperation, an aching need to touch and hold. It’s not exactly love, but you don’t have another word for it. Maybe devotion? Looking at him feels like the first time a child sees a kitten. You’re like me, soft and lovable, and we should stay together.
“Have you listened to anything I’ve said in the last few minutes?” Leon asks, putting a hand on your knee that brings you back to the gala. You suck in a breath and shake your head. He smiles wide. “Quit staring at me, makes me feel like I’ve got something on my face,”
“You’re pretty,” you say before you can stop yourself. Maybe pretty is the wrong word, but you don’t know what the right one would be. He’s handsome, sure, but handsome doesn’t encapsulate the way his lashes flutter against his cheekbones or the way he blushes when you smile at him. “Sorry,”
He’s grinning now, giving your knee a squeeze. “You flatter me,”
An hour later, and he’s being called up on stage by your director, who intends to decorate him. You’re beaming with pride, even though you know Leon is dreading this moment. He stumbles across the stage. Cameras are flashing, and you can almost see Leon cringe between photos. He’s off the stage a few minutes later, heading straight for you. You grin more, knowing that he’s choosing to seek solace in you, in your company. He wraps you in a stiff hug that loosens as it endures. You laugh into his shoulder.
“Don’t let me do anything heroic ever again,” he mumbles, burying his face into your neck. You bark a laugh.
“Yeah, okay,” you agree. “I’ll make sure to step in next time,”
In an act that surprises you, Leon tugs you toward the dance floor. You must look wildly confused because he explains, “Just this once. Just one dance,”
You agree, not that you could deny even if you wanted to. He’s looking at you like you’re someone he’s meant to love, like you’re more than just his partner. His hand slots against the curve of your waist like it was made specifically to be there. He’s warm and smiling, and you think maybe he’s had a bit too much champagne. But you like him like this. Who knows when you’ll see him like this again? You stare at him, intent to memorize his features and the way the light catches on the bridge of his nose.
“You’re staring again,” he whispers. You smile sheepishly.
“Never seen you like this,” you reply. He bows his head to chuckle. “Not sure I’ll ever get the chance to again,”
“I’m sure you will,” he says. “You’re the one who brings it out of me,”
You roll your eyes. “I’m more convinced it’s all the free champagne we’ve been drinking,”
“You can believe whatever you want, sweetness,” he says, spinning you. “I’m telling you the truth,”
You’re both giggly and joking the whole way home. Leon has you wheezing about something you can’t remember as you step into the apartment. Tears rest at the corners of your eyes. You shove him playfully. He follows you from room to room like a puppy, making you giggle and flash a smile as you clean up for the night.
You crash onto the bed, warm and light from the night, and reach to take off your shoes. Leon stands in the doorway, watching you. The light from the hallway gives him a halo. Your feet ache as you release them from their prisons, and you glance up to see Leon smiling at you. You return it with the cock of one of your brows.
“You’re pretty,” he says by way of explanation. You feel heat snake up your body. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, hair slightly messy from where he’s run his hands through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone. If you weren’t as shy as you are, you’d probably move to touch him.
Instead, you huff a laugh and toss your shoes to the floor. “You flatter me,”
When you stand and begin to move around him, he grabs your elbow. “I mean it,”
Perhaps, in another life, you would see this as a win. The man you’ve spent most of your life following around and yearning for seemingly returns your affections, and you are about to deny him. Admitting it out loud makes it real, makes it mean something. What happens the next time something goes wrong out there? The next time he does something heroic? Everything will be much too real, and much harder to bury. You blink at him, looking at him for what feels like the very first and last time. He’s still Leon; scruffy stubble, blue eyes, and warmth. He’s still Leon, teetering on being your Leon, and you’re not going to let that happen. You, again, are going to deny yourself from what you want.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. You take in a shaky breath. He’s still holding you, but his touch is a ghost on your flesh.
“Leon, I don’t know-”
“You know that one Frank Sinatra song?” he interrupts. You gape at him.
“Why did you ask if you won’t let me answer?” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. He returns his hands to his pockets.
“Predicted where it was going, figured I’d circumvent it,” he admits, the corner of his lips turning upward slightly. “The song he sings with his wife?”
You shrug. “Maybe? What’s your point?”
“I love you,” he says. Your body goes cold. “That could be the stupidest thing I’ve ever said, but I feel like you should know that before you make whatever decision you’re about to make,”
Your face breaks out into a grin, and you laugh in spite of yourself. “I’m sure you’ve said stupider,”
Whatever worry was on Leon’s face dissolves, and a real, full smile splits across his lips. He takes your face in his hands. He holds you delicately, like you’d break under the slightest pressure. To be fair, you feel like glass at the moment–if glass could have legs made of rubber.
“This makes it real,” you say. He swallows. “No going back, no forgetting, no pretending. When something happens, it will be real,”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he whispers. “It’s worked out for us so far,”
You’re not sure who closes the space first, but it matters little after it’s happened. His lips are gentle and giving against your own. Your hands splay against his sides, using his suit jacket to pull him closer. His hands wind into your hair. There’s a desperation behind his movements, one you’re all too familiar with. After what feels like hours, he breaks from you, leaning his forehead against yours. His breathing is labored, you can feel it in his strong chest beneath your hands.
“This is real,” he says.
“We take risks for a living,” you say. He opens his eyes to peek at you through his lashes. “What’s one more right?”
He grins and kisses you again.
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magicfootballstuff · 1 year ago
Text
Silver (ona batlle x reader)
The weight of defeat in the World Cup final pins you to the grass. Your head is pounding, a rush of blood in your ears that drowns out any sound around you, until a familiar voice cuts through it all.
“Mi amor, you have to get up.”
You fling an arm across your face, the crook of your elbow covering your eyes. Today was always going to end with one of you winning and the other losing, but you don’t know if you can face Ona right now.
“Can’t,” you say, but even that one word takes a huge effort to choke out.
A hand finds yours and you peel back your arm to see Ona crouching beside you.
“Let me help,” she says, locking your hands together in her grasp and using her strength to haul you to your feet when you’re too exhausted to do it yourself.
Your England teammates are starting to congregate nearby, Sarina beckoning the players over, and though you know that nothing she says right now will mend your broken heart, you still have to join.
“We’ll talk after, okay?” Ona promises you, her hand finding the back of your neck and affectionately playing with the wisps of hair that have escaped your ponytail, before you part ways to join your respective huddles.
After turns out to be much later. The ceremony seems to drag on for an eternity, but you move through the whole thing like a zombie. You doubt you’ll remember much of this later and a small part of you wonders if you should be soaking this in more, not just the occasion of having played in a World Cup final, but also of losing it. You hate losing, hate the feelings of inadequacy that are consuming you right now, but it’s moments like this that you’ll want to look back on next time you’re in a final, to channel that into winning the next one and never having to feel like this again.
Eventually, with a silver medal around your neck, you find yourself back on the confetti-covered grass, seated this time, with your knees bent up to your chest and your weight supported on your hands behind you. The stadium is still half full, mostly joyful Spanish fans but you can see some England flags still flying proudly, and that’s when it hits you. Second place when you were so close to winning the biggest prize in football hurts, but it’s still something you should try to be proud of and the fans who have followed you to the other side of the world and still show their support are what makes the pain worthwhile.
“Can I sit down?”
In your appreciation of the moment, you don’t notice Ona until she’s standing over you, her jersey now decorated with a star over the crest and a gold medal around her neck.
She’s waiting for your permission to sit, so you give it with a single nod, and she plants herself on the grass beside you, immediately draping her arm around your neck. You sink into the touch, leaning into her side and resting your head on Ona’s shoulder.
“It hurts so much,” you admit, your eyes stinging with tears again.
“I know,” Ona replies. “And I wish I could take that pain away.”
“I just wasn’t good enough,” you tell her. “I’ve let so many people down. I’ve let an entire country down.”
“Hey,” Ona says, cupping your jaw with her hand and tilting your head to look at her. There’s a little crease between her eyebrows as she frowns at your self-deprecation. “You haven’t let anybody down. You were good enough to get to the final and you gave us a tough game today. That’s something to be proud of.”
Her fingers rub soothing circles on your shoulder through the material of your blue jersey. You nod and try to swallow back the lump in your throat.
“And I know it probably doesn’t help much but I’m so proud of you,” Ona continues, her brown eyes full of warmth and adoration. “So proud.”
You want to tell her you’re proud of her too, of the medal around her neck and the trophy she got to lift, of the performances she’s given on the pitch throughout the tournament and the fact that she’s now shown the entire world how good she is. But you can’t find the words.
It’ll take you a few days to find those words, but you will find them. You’ll tell Ona on a beach as you take a much needed break together for a few days before you start preseason. You’ll tell her during a lazy morning in bed right before you have to fly back to England. You’ll tell her again on FaceTime the night before she makes her Barcelona debut. It doesn’t matter if you can’t say it now, because Ona understands.
She presses her lips to your temple, a simple gesture that conveys way more than words ever could.
“T’estimo,” you murmur.
Ona’s lips still linger against your skin and you feel the smile as she hears the way your own mouth stumbles slightly around the foreign words of her native tongue.
“I love you too. Always.”
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woundedheartwithin · 5 months ago
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Absolutely gutted for Marcus Orlob and Jane though :(
Not the Olympic dressage commentators saying that the one Lusitano in the competition would have to be judged differently because they move not quite as well as warmbloods when warmbloods were literally only bred for sport while Iberian horses were bred for war and have classical dressage as it was originally devised in their blood
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lickthehilt · 7 months ago
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keep you in a bottle
T/W: mentions of Boothills backstory and the reader who’s a direct victim of the IPC.
If my works do anything to offend you or any party, please let me know so I can amend or take down anything.
I do not mention descriptions of anything visceral in my work, the most being: “…the IPC fully invaded, but he told you that as he rummaged through the wreck of scorched land he'd found the chip at the entrance of where the nursery would've been in the shared house…” other descriptions include the idea of having a cybernetic body.
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He'll pry the door open with his leg, too cool to use the actual handle, right about--
The door swings open followed by the beams of sunlight reflecting off the metallic surface of the medals and bullets hanging from his jacket and belt. Entering the hotel room, every movement he makes is loud and punctuated by the tinkling of metal and the clicks of his spurs -- in your daydreams sometimes he takes the form of a souvenir seller, like the ones they have in the big-shot planets he had travelled to in the past. You can see him hollering at smudged out faces, waving trinkets and brushing against people with his tassel-like long hair.
You love his hair; the length and how when he sways you can see the strands dance in river-like streaks. When you were younger you had to fight him tooth-and-nail to get your grubby hands on those clumps. Daylight burnt through fights that ended with you pinning his hands to his sides as he wriggled on his front, your weight pressing him down as you'd tear through his hair with your own hairbrush. Now adays you can't really brawl with him in the same way.
"What'chu dreaming 'bout, sugar?" He hauls a bag to the centre table, the contents clanking. His grin is razor sharp, cutting into his cheeks as he starts rummaging through it.
"You. Your hair. Braiding it and stuff, you know? You'd ever think about wearing it up or something?" From where you are, you can't quite see the emotion the flicks past his face. Moments like this, whenever he comes home with his bag of goodies, he looks like a wounded hound licking at his paws showing off the scraps he's managed to scrounge up. "I like that one."
From the bag he produces what looks like a panel of white metal, "like porcelain." Holding it up, he continues rummaging, "came with some fancy bits. Gold and all."
"All for me?"
His gaze momentarily flickers to you, staring through your form. You'd imagine how maybe he'd loom over you, bat at a strand of your hair, flick your forehead, brush his metal fingers against the flesh of your flesh. But the way he looks at you now, uncertain and alien. There are days he can't bring himself to look at you: thinks about what could've been-- what is. He likes to tuck you to his chest on these days, press you close to his non-existent heartbeat, have your hum resonate with the mechanical system inside him. His body is efficient, quiet and invisible to the naked ear, but some days you can really hear him, hear the sliding pumps and groan of metal joints.
"Only the best."
"Maybe you'll find something to fix that Synesthesia Beacon of yours."
Air passes through him in a throat chuckle, "ya think?"
Across the table he's laid out all sort of odd sheets of metal, some sturdy or bent, and he stands above the selection with his hands propped on his hips and leaning back. Cupping the bottom of his face he beckons you closer as you flicker next to him. "What’d ya reckon. Do ya like it?"
"The selection?"
"Naw, the table--" he clicks his tongue. "Yes the selection."
A smile would've pressed against your cheeks as you'd brush your hip against his. But, you don't have a physical hip to brush against his, instead your visage passing his form. The contact is non-existent, but he finds himself jolted still. "Sorry." You don't know what you're apologising for. "Well, um, it's a selection alright."
"Not good 'nough?"
"No-- it is! It's just… hard to imagine…"
"A body." You choose to not look at him.
When you had the chance to really inspect his body, the whole sleek design had been incredibly difficult to grasp for a country bumpkin like yourself. Imagine, mechanical bodies and not just the ones where the head's full of wires. His actual brain is in there, working and pumping whatever fluid they used for his blood or something. Does he even have blood? He'd never let you see the worst of his fights and you've only really seen him in action when he got good at what he did. When he had credit and cash spilling from his fingertips the same way that he let his bullets rain. Being a galaxy ranger was good for him, the best option for him after what had happened -- but he's never told you what went into that surgery, or more like he could never explain it.
"Look," he fidgets with his left hand, popping out his revolver chamber and spinning the wheel slowly, "it's not that deep when ya really think about it, honey."
"Boothill. I want you to look at me when you reassure me." He pauses. Then, he turns to look at you. Really look at you.
Your form flickers before him. There's a slight blue sheen over the visage of what you would've looked like -- what you should've looked like if you were physically alive. Boothill has razor sharp vision, even with one eye, but he struggles to look at you with a steady gaze. He fidgets in a way you don’t really see him, always one to ooze with confidence, dancing through bullet shells and pressing the nozzle of guns into his abdomen.
"When you made the decision to… did it hurt?"
"It hurt, alright." A belly-type laughter rasps his throat as he adjusts his hat, "but it hurt more know those little vermons would be going scot-free if I weren't chasing 'em down."
The thought makes you quiet. Outside you could make out the whizzing of hover cars and the cute little squishing sound those little billboards make as they trail behind you. There’s laughter and chatter and life.
Boothill adjusts his footing, his spur clicking as he shifts to be closer to you, just shy of what would be him pressing against your body.
"Yer'll still be you to me." He huffs, "metallic body er not, yer' still… Plus, I think it'll be easier for ya. No nerves to server, or gas to suck on. Just gotta boot you down."
"Gee. Real assuring."
"Ain't it?" And you think about it as he starts chucking the bad metal in the pile he's collected in the corner of your temporary living space.
You'd be awake as nothing more than waves of light one moment, then the next you'd have a body. Something real physical. And that'd be great-- but the morality of real death would come back, wouldn't it? No longer would you worry about Boothill losing you, or scratching your chip up a little too much, death would be in your hands once more. It's easier to be mad at someone else, but yourself?
Boothill never told you in detail on how he'd found your body the day the IPC fully invaded, but he told you that as he rummaged through the wreck of scorched land he'd found the chip at the entrance of where the nursery would've been in the shared house. It was small in size and a bit thick, almost lost amongst the greys and black, only found through its blinking blue light that winked through the rubble. He would've tossed it away if it weren't for your name etched into its surface.
He held onto the hope that it meant anything and clutched onto the chip well after he got his cyborg body, at one point forgetting it and keeping it in his boot for safe keeping ("… in your boot." "It kept ya safe, dun'it?"). Just by chance he had his hands on some holographic projector and popped the chip in. Then, there you were. Loading bit by bit, but just the same as you’d been the night before the wipe out. Same face, same body, hands and feet. You were still, as if frozen, and he'd been… well it was a lot. For him and you, who'd been in… well, not the best mind when you came to be.
"I… guess so. I-- and you'll be able to really find this doctor again?"
"Found her once, and I'll find her again, sugar. And before you know it," he tips his hat, averting his gaze to the whirring device projecting your form. "We can do all the hair braiding ya want."
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allthebrazilianpolitics · 4 months ago
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How Brazil became a Paralympic power
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As the Paris Paralympic Games come to a close, Brazil emerged stronger than ever, securing its best result in history and solidifying its position as a global leader in parasports. 
With a haul of 25 golds, 26 silvers, and 38 bronzes, Brazil finished fifth in the medal standings, further building on its legacy of athletic excellence since breaking into the top 10 at the 2008 Beijing Games.
Brazil’s Paralympic performance could have been even stronger if the men’s blind football team had secured gold instead of settling for the bronze. A semifinal loss to Argentina kept Brazil out of the gold medal match for the first time ever — breaking a five-title streak and denying the country a chance to surpass the Netherlands for fourth place in the overall standings.
This year’s result cements Brazil’s reputation as a global powerhouse in Paralympic sports, particularly track and field and swimming. The Brazil Team put up a performance that almost surpassed the most optimistic projections of the Brazilian Paralympic Committee (CPB) ahead of Paris. The CPB believed the country would win between 70 and 90 medals, with some experts predicting a top 5 finish.
Continue reading.
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cheriladycl01 · 10 months ago
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Our European Yacht Holiday - Kimi Raikkonen x SpanishOlympicDiver! Reader
Plot: It's summer and Kimi finally is in his off season and you've just competed in the summer Olympics getting a gold medal, what better way to prepare for the next by going around Europe on holiday!
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"Okay, are you doing this with me yes or no?" you ask Kimi whose to your left. You were currently on your husbands private yacht, in the off season of Formula one, you'd decided to sail round Europe. Right now you were currently in the seas of the coast of Monaco.
It was you, Kimi, Sebastian Vettel his wife Hannah and their three kids who you and Kimi were god parents too.
"No!" he exclaims looking over the edge of the boat. You shake your head with a laugh.
"Come on, your such a wuss!" you exclaim looking towards him. You were both currently at the roof of the boat. You'd been diving off all afternoon, practicing of course and Kimi had come up saying he wanted to jump off too.
"I am not!" he tells you.
"Come on, you drove cars at 200mph and now your saying you cant dive off the boat with me?" you ask him, you pull on your swimsuit strap to make sure it was fully up over you shoulder.
"It's so high, and it's really really deep here!" he says looking around. In actuality it wasn't that deep, you'd swam here many times and you'd also gone scuba diving and free diving as part of training to keep fit.
"Okay, well I'm going to jump!" you scream before diving into the deep water. You hold your breath just as your body goes into the water hands first soon followed by your head. The rush you felt from your body when you went diving was the whole reason you got into it in the first place.
It's the reason why most athletes love their job, that adrenaline you get when performing.
You resurface padding around by the edge of the boat.
"Y/N! Y/N! I want to jump in!" one of Seb's children says coming up to you. You smile and swim up to them.
"Yeah, is your dad okay with it?" you ask clinging onto the rope that dangled of the back of the boat while you were docked up.
"Daddy, can I jump in with Y/N?" they shout back to Seb whose laying on the upper deck on one of the sofa's with Hanna.
"Have you got your arm bands on?" he asks leaning over the edge, you wave up to him and he nods knowing you'd keep them safe.
"Yeah!"
"Then you can, but you listen to Y/N at all times okay?" he says before laying back down.
"You know, i want to be just like you!" he says, smiling at you. You grin back and wait for him to jump in but he looks a little scared.
"I'll catch you, you trust me right?" you ask and look at the little boy above you. He nods and gulps down the anxiety, he walks back a little before running and jumping into the water right into your arms.
You were an exceptionally strong swimmer due to all the diving you do so holding the little boy up while treading water was no issue.
"Did that look cool?" he asks in delight rubbing the salty water out of his eyes.
"The coolest! I'll teach you how to dive soon!" you grin, and you both swim about a little bit more. You show him how to snorkel using the little mask Hanna had brought and how he had to keep his head at a certain angle so that no water got in the tube. Eventually you hauled him up onto the back of the boat before climbing back on yourself.
Your husband was stood there holding a towel out for you knowing it was slightly cooler now the sun was setting. He placed a light kiss on the top of your head, waiting for Sebastian and Hanna to leave with their son up to the top deck.
"You are really good with kids, we should think about having one!" he says to you suddenly making your head turn to him.
"Yeah?" you ask with a little smirk on your face.
"I think you'd be able to teach them so much!" he smiles genuinely pulling you into a hug and another kiss.
"Come on, we better doc the boat, I'm starving!" you say, giving him once last kiss before running off and hoping down the stairs to shower and change into a nice evening dress.
Later that night, you all went out for a meal in one of Monaco's finest, and being such a small city you bumped into some of the other drivers who couldn't help but ask how you were.
You were sad to see Seb, Hanna and the kids leave but now you and Kimi could sail away to Greece, the next destination for your little holiday away.
y/user
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Liked by kimimatiasraikkonen and others
y/user: Sailing across Europe, getting ready for Paris 2024 with the best people ever! <3
Tagged: kimimatiasraikkonen sebastianvettel hannaprater
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kimimatiasraikkonen: Are you proud i jumped in the end?
-> y/user: yes it took lots of convincing though! <3
-> landoswife: no because we need the story behind this
-> vettelredbullera: no for real, was she trying to get him to dive?
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Your Instagram Story Caption:
He wouldn’t dive from the boat with me :(
Taglist:
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torakowalski · 2 months ago
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Swimmer Steve - Part 11
And we're back! Where have I been? No clue. Well I've been right here but my ability to make words has... not. So we're starting slow, easing into it and hoping they don't notice me creeping up on them.
(part one | part ten)
Steve's part of the Olympics lasts six days, then he turns up at Eddie's door, lays his three(!) medals down on Eddie's dresser, crawls into Eddie's bed and falls asleep for ten hours.
He wakes up, eats some fried chicken that Eddie went out to buy, then goes back to sleep for another four hours.
Eddie, usually never ever able to stay still, discovers that lying on his belly next to Steve, watching him snore softly is way more soothing than any of the herbal teas Wayne likes to press on him.
"Morning," Steve says, blinking sleepily at him at like, ten at night.
"Morning, doll," Eddie says. "Sleep well?"
Steve yawns. "Hm, kept dreaming I was at the Olympics." He blinks around himself, exageratedly. "Well, what do you know?"
He looks so sleepy and smug that there's nothing Eddie can do but scoot over and kiss him. Steve makes a happy noise and hooks an arm around Eddie's neck, pulling him closer.
Steve stripped down to just his boxers before he fell asleep the first time, so Eddie's got nothing but smooth, hot skin under his hands. He still mourns Steve's chest hair, but maybe Steve can grow it for a while now and Eddie will get to experience it, at last.
"Did I dream it, or did we have the best friend chicken ever, at some point?" Steve asks.
Eddie would be more offended that Steve's thinking about food while Eddie's making out with him, but the poor guy has been living the high protein, low carb training diet for way too long now.
"You didn't dream it, but it was only maybe the third best fried chicken I've had here."
Steve's eyes light up when he grins. "You've gotta take me sightseeing before we go home. I want to see everything you've seen and eat everything you've eaten."
"Then your wish shall be granted, good sir," Eddie promises.
"Yeah, talk nerd to me," Steve says and hauls Eddie into another kiss, which Eddie happily gives him until Steve bites his lip, pulls back, and says, "Hang on, I need to piss."
Eddie laughs, rolling off him and flopping backwards onto the bed. "That the kind of romantic way you speak to all the girls, Harrington?"
"No," Steve says. "But I don't feel like I've gotta pretend with you."
Well shit, Eddie thinks, as Steve climbs off the bed and heads for the bathroom. Who knew Steve was gonna be sincere?
He lies on his back, watching Steve's ass unashamedly as he makes his way to the bathroom. He leaves the door half ajar, while he's peeing, because first and foremost: jock.
"I'm gonna shower," Steve calls. "Wanna join me?"
Eddie feels a laugh punch out of his chest. Hell yes, he wants to join him, but he's pretty sure Steve's joking.
Then he remembers that, wait, Steve doesn't have to worry about the Olympics sex curse anymore. Maybe he does mean it. Eddie's half way to sitting up, when Steve pops back into the room.
"No?"
"... Can't tell if you're teasing me," Eddie admits.
Steve looks at him then looks over at the dressing table. "Remember what you said the first time we kissed?"
"Was it oh my god, am I dreaming?" Eddie asks, racking his brain to try to work out what it actually was.
Steve grins at him. "You said you'd shower with me, if I brought home a gold medal." He reaches over and picks up the one gold, sitting it between his two bronzes. He takes a second, seeming just to need to look at it, then holds it up. "I know it was for a relay so I only won like, a quarter of it. But does this count?"
Holy fuck, Steve does mean it. Eddie always gets a little hard when they make out, but now he's hard hard and it maybe robs him of his ability to breathe. Or to answer questions.
Steve grin starts to fade. "But totally no pressure," he says, hand curling tight around his medal. "Sorry. Stupid joke, or well, not a -"
Eddie rolls up onto his knees and holds his hands out demandingly. "Give me my prize, Harrington."
Still with that half-grin only, Steve's eyebrows draw together and he lifts up the medal like a question.
Eddie nods. He can breathe now, but it's coming fast, and he feels hot all over.
Steve steps forward and loops the ribbon around Eddie's neck, murmuring, "Congratulations," like Eddie really is winning a gold here. Let's be reasonable though, if this is going the way Eddie thinks it's going, he definitely is the one who's winning.
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girlcrushart · 5 months ago
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Of course I had to post Alysha Newman today. For starters, it would be unpatriotic not to. She did, after all, win a medal for Canada yesterday. Yay! Also, @whoiwanttoday would spin a web of lies about how I don't like girls or athletes or washboard abs, which is all terribly untrue and I need to get ahead of that. Alysha is a pole vaulter, which is why I chose this Pole Vault Warrior photo, even tho it covers up those aforementioned washboard abs, which I guess just means I'll have to post her again sometime soon. Pole vaulting is honestly super weird to me—impressive of course. But like, what a strange super-specialized skill to have?! It feels ancient in some way, like it comes from a time where it was important to be able to scale a castle wall quickly and attack. It does also seem to attract remarkably hot women (I mean, Allison Stokke. like, seriously), so I'm all for it. And it added to our medal haul, which is always nice. These are just a few of the reasons why today's girlcrushart guardian is Alysha Newman.
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lulublack90 · 5 months ago
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Prompt 3 - Champion
@wolfstarmicrofic August 3, word count 333
Previous part First Jegulus part
The next day is just as busy if not more so. Apparently, word had spread even further, and now they had people from the neighbouring university coming to try their fabled coffee. 
As soon as Sirius saw the already substantial queue formed outside the café when he went to open the doors, he pulled out his phone to call in the Potters again. He hadn’t even pressed the call button when he saw the familiar electric blue 500 whizz past. He still has no idea how they all fit into it. James alone was over 6ft tall and Monty wasn’t far behind. But Effie had seen it, fallen in love with it and bought it. She called it her little champion as it hauled around those two big lugs with barely a complaint. Sirius had bought her a little gold medal to hang on the rearview mirror. He smiled as he remembered the look on her face when he presented it to her. She’d grabbed him into a hug and then run outside to put it in the car. They’d watched her out of the living room window as she sat in the driver’s seat and spun the little medallion around. Monty had had to go drag her away from it so she could eat dinner. Sirius shook his head, clearing his mind. There was work to be done. 
“I’m going to get some toasties going,” He told Remus after he’d taken orders for the tables. He handed over their drinks orders before leaning over the shiny wood counter and dragging Remus down for a kiss. He needed a boost to get him through the next few hours. Remus grinned goofily at him as he went through the door into the kitchen. 
He fired up the grill and started assembling cheese toasties as Effie, Monty and James walked through the back door, ready to help out in any way they could, there for him in a way his biological family never would be. 
Next part
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