#calm down starr. shut up and do your work

[starrtoon]

bruh, why is it when I'm trying to do commissions I have the strong urge to draw self-indulgent art

[brywrites]

Focus II

[Part I] If you’re looking for something to distract you from the looming anxiety of election results, here’s something else to focus on for a few minutes. ;) This was definitely longer than I thought it would be! CW for mentions of triggers/flashbacks, mild smut!

Summary: Reid faces unexpected challenges returning to the field after his reinstatement, but the Reader remains the one person who can help ease his mind when it all gets to be too much.

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For once, the world has chosen to be gentle with them. Following Scratch’s demise, the Bureau mandates that the BAU takes six weeks of leave. It comes as a relief to all of them after living in a constant state of anxiety for the last year. Rossi disappears on a vacation that includes visiting Ringo Starr, who he reminds everyone is “a close personal friend.” JJ stays at home with her boys, happy to be nothing but “mom” for a little while. Tara fits in research, Luke goes camping with Lisa and Roxy, and Garcia divides her time between MMORPGs, her grief group, and babysitting Hank Morgan.

Y/N spends a good amount of the time on Emily’s couch, watching old seasons The Bachelorette and whatever 2000s rom-coms they can find. But when she’s not at her best friend’s apartment and she isn’t at home attempting complicated recipes in her kitchen, she’s with him.

Spencer is spending a large portion of his break attending mandatory therapy sessions and redoing fitness courses in Hogan’s Alley in order to meet his reinstatement requirements. But whenever he gets the chance, he’s by her side. They get coffee and wander through museums and parks, they go for long drives and make out on his couch. They talk about everything and nothing and all at once it’s wonderful. There is a strange giddy feeling that takes her over every time his hand finds her in a crowded place or he goes out of his way to do something nice for her or he can’t help but smile while kissing her. He’s so gentle with her, leaving sweet notes around her apartment and burying his face in the crook of her neck as he holds her close.

There are no cases. There are no monsters. There are no press conferences. There are only warm days and wine and the sound of Spencer’s laugh echoing in her living room.

With two weeks to go, she realizes the world might not be quite so gentle. She swings by the BAU to help Matt move case files out of her office, and as she’s on her way out she spots Spencer at the end of the corridor, rubbing at his eyes the way she’s only seen him do the night Scratch stole Emily.

He doesn’t even seem to register her approach until she says his name. And when he turns to her, he’s miles away. “What is it?” she asks. “Spencer, what’s wrong?”

“The scenario I was running in the Alley… there were multiple unsubs in the laundromat and it was just – it was too much like – it was…” He presses his palm into his eye.

Too much like Luis. He’s told her that story already. “What do you need?” she asks. She reaches out to grab his hand, lacing her fingers through hers.

She feels him tense for just a second before, squeezing her hand tighter, he starts down the hall with her. The door to Garcia’s office is open and he pulls her inside, shutting it behind him. Before she can ask what he’s doing, her back is against the door and his mouth is on hers.

He kisses her fiercely and when he slips his tongue past her lips, she wraps a hand around the back of his neck to pull him closer to her. He’s still holding her hand, his grip tight as he rolls his hips against her and though it’s caught her completely off-guard, the feeling of his body against her is exquisite.

She winds her fingers in his curly hair, eliciting a moan from him that rumbles through his chest. His free hand slips down the curve of her back until he can cup her ass. He catches her bottom lip between his teeth. Every action is hungry, desperate. Her skin feels hot everywhere he touches her.

He stops suddenly and wraps her in a hug. His sweater is soft against her cheek and he smells like ivory soap and coffee and his embrace is so secure. This is a different kind of passion – less frantic, but just as strong, as he rests his head on her shoulder and attempts to steady his breathing.

“It still works,” he sighs.

“Hmm?”

Spencer releases her from his arms. “When it gets bad, and my mind goes… there, your touch helps keep me here. Everything else just disappears. I can’t explain it, but it still works.”

“So… kissing me is a like a grounding technique?” she asks, trying to surprise a giggle.

He chuckles in spite of himself, and the distance in his eyes is gone. He is himself once more. “Something like that, yeah. It’s pretty amazing actually. Even just holding your hand helps. But um, kissing you is…” He clears his throat. “A little more effective, it seems.”

“Well,” she says, “I’m certainly happy to be of assistance.” She gives him a quick peck.

“What am I supposed to do in the field?” he asks. “I’m still having flashbacks and even a basic training exercise triggered a trauma response today.”

“Love, you’re a genius. You know that PTSS is like an injury. And that means it’s gonna take time to heal. But you’ll find a way to cope and stay grounded while you heal.” She caresses his cheek, the stubble he’s continued to grow rough against her hand when he leans into her touch. “Even if that means sneaking off to a back room with me,” she teases.

Their time of rest is coming to a close, the hours ticking by until the day they’ll return to work and Spencer will face his reinstatement evaluation. She savors the quiet while she can, the ability to go to bed early and sleep in, the simple joy of waking up in her own bed, or sometimes in his. She can tell he’s anxious though – scared that he’ll be denied reinstatement and scared that the trauma will continue to hang heavy over him.

When it gets bad and his mind steals him somewhere far away, he reaches for her and she always welcomes him. She’s grateful for any reason to be close to him, and if it helps to keep him here in the moment, that’s even better. She can always tell when he needs her to clear his mind by the way he kisses her. When he’s not himself, he pins her against the wall, gropes at her ass, holds her face still as he bites her lip. He’s impulsive and needy. But when his firm grasp fades to soft caresses, when he places kisses on her cheek, her forehead, when it becomes a sweeter sort of passion, she knows he’s come back to her.

So when Emily announces his reinstatement to the team and she kisses him quickly and his hand squeezes hers just a little tighter than she expects, she knows there’s something bothering him. They grab their go-bags from the bullpen and she asks him about it, but he just kisses her forehead and promises that they’ll talk later.

Emily goes over the case on the plane, women in caregiving roles stuffed into suitcases. The team goes over victimology and she tries to take notes, already thinking of questions to ask the families and directions to take with local media. It’s easy to get lost in the work when it demands her full attention.

.

Upon landing, there is already a couple waiting for her in the interview room. Laura Westin is their latest victim, and her parents are devastated. They paint a picture for her with their words of their daughter – a bright, beautiful, generous woman who was mourning the death of her own friend. The grief has traveled in waves.

“Who would do this to her?” Mrs. Westin sobs. Her husband places a hand on her shoulder. “She’s such a good girl, she is – she was… Oh, god!”

“She was,” Y/N repeats. “And she is always going to be your daughter. And the people who love her will remember all of the good she did.” They cry and she listens and she assures them that they’re doing everything right and while she knows not to make promises she can’t keep, she does promise that they’ll do their best.

When they’ve shared everything they know and settled back into a state of relative calm, she walks the Westins to the door of the station and returns to conference room, where the team is working on the profile.

“Welcome back,” Rossi says. She sits down next Spencer. It’s clear to her that he’s lost in his own thoughts. Out of the corner of her eye she sees his fingers form a fist and he begins to bounce his leg under the table. Their chairs are close together already, making it incredibly difficult for anyone else to notice that she reaches across beneath the table to rest her hand on his thigh. The moment she does, he stills. He inhales sharply and clenches his fist a little bit tighter for just a moment – but then relaxes. She strokes steady circles with her thumb while she tells the team about Laura Westin.

They team files out of the room for a quick break and she stays behind with Reid. He’s relaxed enough to give her a smile. “How was interviewing the family?” he asks, lacing his fingers through her own.

She sighs. “It never gets any easier. But I know it’s important for them to get a chance to talk to someone about her. Someone who won’t tell them it all happened for a reason and she’s in a better place now.”

“You’re so good at that,” he says. “You always make the people around you feel better.”

“What about you? What’s going on in your head?”

He stares down at his coffee cup. “There was a… condition for my reinstatement. For every one hundred days I’m in the field, I have to take thirty days off.”

“Like a sabbatical? Does Emily know?”

“Yeah. She thinks it’s a good idea.” He aimlessly strokes patterns on the back of her hand.

“I know I’m not an expert, but I think she might be right,” she says. “Spencer, what you went through – you’re going to struggle. And you’re going to need to rest.”

“I know,” he says. “But Y/N, I’m worried that–”

“Y/L/N!” Alvez’s entrance startles them both. “There’s a reporter for the Daily News out here. Sorry,” he adds, noticing Spencer’s hand still holding hers. “He’s, uh, trying to call this guy ‘The Baggage Claim Killer.’”

“Of course he is,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “Thanks, Luke. I’ll go talk him down. And we’ll talk later, okay?” she tells Spencer. Though the man in the lobby is annoying, wrangling a reporter is far easier than talking to a grieving family. It doesn’t hurt her heart to lay into someone trying to profit from another person’s pain, and she’s always been good at using her kindness to guilt trip them.

.

That evening at the hotel, there’s a knock at her door. She knows who it is even before answering it and his face is a welcome sight.

“I missed you today,” Spencer says, closing the door behind him.

“I missed you, too. I like you much better than those reporters,” she says. She takes a seat on her bed, patting the spot beside her. “But we didn’t get to finish talking earlier. What’s got you worried?”

Spencer plops onto the mattress, heaving a sigh. “I’m worried that maybe I’m not ready to be back in the field.”

“Do you not want to be?”

“I do! I do, I just…” He runs his hands through his hair. “I wanted to kill Scratch. You know that. And I would have if Emily hadn’t stopped me. Just like I would have killed Cat and just like I almost killed the guys at Milburn…” His hands are shaking so she reaches out to hold them. “What if this is who I am now? What if the next time I’m face to face with an unsub I just…”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know what I did in there… what I had to do…”

He screws his eyes shut and she knows she’s losing him. She kisses his cheek, because she wants him here and she wants to be close to him and she hasn’t been able to hold him all day. It’s a mutually beneficial situation, she figures, when his mouth finds hers, and he kisses her so deep she thinks she might drown in the feeling. His hands slip under the hem of her sweater and his fingers are so warm against her skin. She tangles her hands in his deliciously unruly hair and tugs, needing him closer, wanting to keep him grounded.

“You’re here,” she murmurs. “You’re right here.” His hand is on her breast and his lips are on her neck and she tries so hard not to moan. The last thing she needs is for a team member to walk past her room and overhear them. He sucks hard enough at the skin of her collarbone that she knows it’ll leave a mark. She captures his mouth once more, and he pulls her down onto the bed so she’s lying on top of him. When she’s kissing him, she can forget too. She can erase, for a brief moment, the fear that she’ll let those parents down. That she’ll say the wrong thing or overlook a rogue reporter. She can stop worrying that she’s not doing enough to get justice for those women for just a minute, because when he holds her she doesn’t have to be a perfect liaison or have all the right words. All she has to be is in this moment with the man that she loves. It’s all he needs from her and he is everything she needs right now.

She swipes her tongue over his lower lip before pressing kisses down his jaw. Her hands work away at the buttons of his shirt as she goes, carving a path with her lips down his chest, the soft skin of his belly. He bites back a groan but she can feel how tense he is still, his breathing shallow. It occurs to her that being back in the field might be making things worse than usual. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take things a step further. He needs her, and god does she want him.

She shrugs out of her sweater before flicking open his belt buckle and undoing the zipper of his pants, pulling them down his legs. His cock is already straining against the fabric of his boxers, and when she drags a finger over the length of him he presses his hips into her hands. They haven’t gone this far before. Her heart beats out a staccato rhythm of anticipation as she reaches for the waistband of boxers.

But this his hand grabs hers, his grip soft but firm.

“Y/N.” He’s not looking past her anymore. Spencer’s hazel eyes are completely focused on her, shining in the dim hotel lamplight. “I don’t want my first time with you to be like this.”

“I don’t mind,” she assures him.

“But I do,” he says. He sits up on the bed, holding her in his lap. He brushes her hair back from her face, letting his touch trail down the side her face to caress her cheek. “I want this, but I – I don’t want you to think for a second that I’m using you. I want to do it right. You’re not just another pretty girl or a way for me to clear my mind or a distraction. You’re my favorite person. You’re the one I love. And Y/N, I want to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

“You do,” she says. How can he possibly think he doesn’t when he sends her pictures of things he finds that will make or smile or reads her favorite books just to memorize the words she loves or holds her as though nothing so precious has ever been within his grasp before?

“I need to prove it to myself though.” And though she doesn’t quite understand, she relents. But when she asks if he wants to be alone, he says, “Can I just stay here? With you?”

“Of course.” She trades her slacks for a pair of pajama shorts and asks, “So you do think I’m a pretty girl though?”

He laughs. “The prettiest. But you know that already.” She curls up under the covers with him and watches him fall asleep with his arms around her. His breathing steadies and in sleep he looks more peaceful than he has his days. His body relaxes. A small smile graces his face. Like this, she can almost pretend that Mexico never happened and nothing ever hurt him. She loves him in all ways and all parts, even when he’s hurting, but she wishes she could take that pain away from him.

.

By the time she arrives at the unsub’s house with Rossi, Luke is leading William Lynch away in handcuffs and Spencer is walking the survivor to the meet the medics. Once she’s in the ambulance, Y/N meets him on the sidewalk.

“I didn’t hurt him,” he says.

“I knew you wouldn’t.” He pulls her into a hug, and to her surprise, there is no tension in his touch. He’s not far away. He doesn’t need her to keep him in this moment. He just wants to hold her. She rests her head against his chest, relishing that simple fact.

That week, she can see a lightness in his step at work. His smile comes easier and stays a little longer. He seems to be finding his footing in the office and with the team once again, and he’s even excited about the prospect of the seminars he’ll be teaching. The weekend is welcomed with a Friday night dinner at Rossi’s, after which Spencer drives the both of them back to his apartment. When she steps inside, she finds the living room lit up with string lights and her favorite flowers sitting on the kitchen table.

“What’s all this?” she asks.

“For you, Pretty Girl,” he says. “I told you I wanted to do this right. Flowers have been a symbol of romantic love for centuries, particularly when given as a gift, so that was obvious. And dimmed lights are typically used as a way to set a romantic mood, although also have a skill for lighting up the life of everyone you meet, so there’s that too. Maybe that doesn’t make much sense,” he says, laughing at himself. “But I wanted to make it clear that I was thinking of you and I wanted to make tonight special. Not that anything has to happen tonight, of course, but if you still wanted to I just thought that maybe, well–”

“It’s perfect,” she assures him. “More than perfect. I love it. I love you. And this is exactly what I want.” She stands on her toes to kiss him before he can start rambling once more. Spencer leads her to the bedroom and unlike the rush of movement and need in Florida, he knows exactly he wants. Every kiss is languid and longing, every touch so precise and electric. He helps her out of her dress and places kisses between the valley of her breasts, the curves of her hips. He lets her guide him to where she wants him most and responds to every cue she gives him. Every inch of her body is given careful attention. As if he needs nothing from her at all but to love her.

It’s so much more than sex. As much as she hates the term making love she doesn’t know what else to call it. Because in every gesture, every kiss, he tells her without words that he loves her. And with every touch she tries to tell him the same. He devotes himself to ensuring she comes first, and makes good on that promise with ease, but when he finally reaches his release the sound of him crying her name is the holiest benediction she’s ever heard.

It takes him several minutes after to regain the ability to form words, during which she lies there in contended bliss, stroking his hair. “I love you,” is the first thing he says. “I love you, Pretty Girl.”

She smiles to herself, delighted to be not just a pretty girl who steals his train of thought, but his pretty girl. The one who gets to stay by his side and take his breath away and push the nightmares back. “I love you, too.”

“I’m so glad you kissed me that day.”

“I’m glad Emily gave me such an outrageous idea,” she giggles.

“Thank you for being patient with me all this time. I know I say that you help me forget, but it’s more than that. You’re the one who helps me remember who I am and what matters. But I love you for so many more reasons than that. I’ve asked a lot of you lately and I want to make sure I make you feel as loved as you make me feel.”

“Spencer, you asked me to kiss you. That’s hardly a burden. And I like listening to you. I like being with you – because you make me feel so loved, all the time.” She snuggles closer to him. “I like you like this, when you’re sweet and gentle and you. But it’s, um, it’s not a bad thing when you lose control a little bit. It’s sort of hot – to feel like you just can’t help yourself.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Well, I will absolutely need to remember that. You know, it scares me sometimes, how much I want you. How much I love you. But I’d much rather be scared by that than by the person I am without you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says. Because they’re both better when they’re together.

He makes her brave. She gives him strength. They change each other for the better, and as the days pass, the world feels a little lighter again. The sabbatical proves to be a good idea. With rest, with time, with therapy, she watches him heal. He doesn’t need to run off to kiss her hard against a wall to keep himself grounded (though when she’s in a certain mood, he’s more than happy to). He can focus in the field without her by his side. But when he’s having a hard time, his hand will still find hers. He’ll stand a little closer to her, and look at her, letting the rest of the world fade away, and feel better, every time. And there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

[dreaming-of-brawlstars]

Fallen Starr

Desc: An Angel is quite the force, so surely, it must be able to handle the horrors of Starr Park. Personally. Whatever harms an Angel but be infinitely worse for mortals, so Mortis believes it’s worth the sacrifice.

Warnings: Unreality, self-doubt, memory altering and memory loss. Unhappy ending. Angst.

Author’s Note: I swear I will write a happy fic soon I swear I pr-

He should have known that it was a trap. He really should’ve expected something like this when he saw the way that he had been lured in.

It always hurt to be looking down to see atrocities and pain rampant here, and he showed himself in hopes that they would stop. Maybe out of respect, maybe out of fear, but everything seemed to get worse for those he was trying to protect.

He remembered how just a day ago he snapped, declaring that he would be dealing with them personally for their crimes. He thought that it would end there, that he could finally do what needed to be done for these criminals.

Now , it seemed that his plans were going terribly wrong.

The first thing that happened to him was the blinding white light that engulfed him, then nothing.

There was a faint ringing in his ears as he came back to consciousness, eyes still shut from the harsh brightness. His head spun and his chest tightened, and he felt his wings twitch.

He took a deep breath before opening his eyes, wincing at the sudden brightness, before sitting up and taking another look around. A few things immediately registered to him. He was in the park - one of the newer areas, he believed - where he descended. The air was crisp and cold, and the sun shone overhead through gaps in tree limbs.

He blinked away the last of the spots in his vision and looked around. In the distance, he noticed people.

They were watching him.

A scowl formed on his face, and he held his cane closer, pushing himself up. So, they caught him off guard, so be it. He wouldn’t be letting them get away with this, along with everything else, he vowed.

With a sharp crack in the air as he snapped open his wings, he set off towards the sky again. With each flap upwards, his body trembled with anger, tension and adrenaline. He kept his hands balled into tight fists while he gripped his cane tighter, ready to strike if someone got within reach.

He kept his eyes open, scanning for any signs of danger, any sign that someone was after him. He didn’t know what they could hope to gain by capturing him or whatever they were doing - he wasn’t part of some group, after all - but there was no doubt that they wanted something in return.

His heart sped up as he flew higher, anxiety rising. Something was off, he knew something was off but he couldn’t tell what. It was quiet, and he had a nearly overwhelming sense of deja vu. Like he had done this before. He paused, putting a hand to his head.

…they couldn’t have erased his memory, right?

He glanced back at where he woke up, trying to remember what happened before that. There was no mistaking it, his mind felt foggy, though he had tried so hard to clear it. But no matter how much he went over and over every detail, he just couldn’t seem to connect dots.

As much as he wished that he could figure it out, something told him that he couldn’t. Which was… greatly worrying to him. He felt something twist in his heart, and he put his hand over it, trying to calm himself.

“Calm yourself. Think. It will come back.” He tried to ignore the slight trembling in his own voice. “Deep breaths, Mortis, deep breaths.”

He kept his eyes closed as he continued to fly, focusing all of his attention into calming himself down. He took slow, deliberate breaths and focused on slowing his heartbeat, the beating of his chest.

This was not good, no no no, this was NOT good.

He could feel it. He could barely recall why he was here - it was to stop them, right? How did he plan to stop them? He shook his head, trying to snap out of these thoughts.

‘Focus. Focus.’ He repeated the words to himself until he felt calmer. He slowly opened his eyes, staring ahead, feeling uneasy as he watched the world pass him by. ‘Focus, Mortis. You’re an Angel. Your job is to protect and serve. You’ve never failed to protect anyone in your life, you’ll protect others now.’

Protect. He was here to protect… people. People who were captured. People who needed help. People he had to help. Those he was sworn to protect. He clenched his jaw and glared ahead, determined.

‘Focus! You have work to do, Mortis. This isn’t the time to be thinking about yourself. Don’t think about your feelings, don’t think about how bad it feels. Think about helping those you care about.’

His gaze turned forward and he stopped, hovering over the ground as he tried to take in his surroundings. The entirely of Starr Park, a theme park full a color, districts, and themes. Thirteen different areas, not including the area he just flew out of-

…the area he just flew out of? He blinked in confusion, looking back.

A sanctuary with green grass, trees, a cottage, golden roads. It seemed almost out of place, peaceful, like it was something he’d see at home instead of-

“Oh no.” He murmured, gripping onto his cane tighter. “No. No, no, no. Not happening.”

He shook his head and brought up his free hand to rub at his eyes before glancing around and taking note of the location and the people surrounding it. They stood in small groups, watching, waiting.

They were waiting for him.

He had to get out of here. Despite his vow, he couldn’t help if he was captured. He was supposed to keep humans safe.

He swallowed hard and forced himself to take a deep breath, steadying himself as he shot off to the heavens.

They were all staring at him.

He tensed at the realization.

He began flying away, wings flapping, praying that he could get away, to safety, anywhere. Then, a sharp painful feeling of realization and familiarity nearly stunned him before there was a bright flash of light, blinding and intense. His wings fluttered wildly, the familiar sensation of losing sense of reality hitting him like a truck. For a moment, the world flashed with dark shapes and forms as he fell - falling, falling. And he cried out, his scream piercing the air as he twisted to the side, desperately hoping that it wasn’t too late.

And then he hit the ground.

He let out a groan of pain as he lay on his stomach, curling in on himself as he fought to force his breathing under control. The pain of his fall, the shock and pain and sheer panic he felt, the pain in his heart.

“Ngh...” He managed, lifting his head up only to grimace in pain as it ached sharply. He reached up and rubbed at the spot on his forehead, feeling a bruise forming already - even though he hadn’t actually fallen onto his head. “Splendid.” He muttered to himself.

He let his fingers curl against the top of his head for a second before letting his hands drop, closing his eyes for a brief moment to try and regain some semblance of composure.

If anything, it made him more aware of just how exposed he was. Even with his abilities, even with his powers and authority, it seemed like Starr Park had found something to use against him.

How ironic, he mused bitterly to himself. He was supposed to bring these guys in. These guys were supposed to be his enemies. Instead of him bringing them in for judgement, they were going after him.

He gripped the cane, pushing himself up, deciding to think before taking off. He needed a plan, he decided. He needed an idea. And he needed it fast.

He took off, flying as fast as he could with his wings. He looked around frantically, scanning for anything that might offer an escape, anything that may give him an idea. Even if he had to leave behind people, he couldn’t help them if he was captured.

He was met with that same blinding flash of light, careening down towards the ground once more, only to hit a wall. Or rather, he crashed through a wall. He felt the impact jolt through his whole body, and he winced slightly, letting out a low groan as he pulled himself up.

“What in the…” He looked at the sky, looking for something that could’ve knocked him down. Or something that was the source of the…

What just happened?

He put a hand to his head, worriedly looking around himself. He couldn’t recall why he was here or what he had just experienced, just that he just got up with no idea what happened. He was scared, he was anxious… but why? What made his brain feel fuzzy and fuzzy around the edges. It hurt his head to even think about it.

It was strange, and yet… nothing else made sense. None of his other memories made sense - he could hardly recall what had happened. But angels didn’t have bad memory, that didn’t make sense. Nothing did.

It was unsettling to say the least, and he felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. Mortis looked around, deciding to walk to get a bearing of his surroundings. He noticed several odd things as he began to walk.

The trees were lovely, except it looked like something had broken some branches, leaving a small gap in the leaves. The golden path he walked along had some dents in it. Some flowers had been crushed and trampled. It was like something had fallen through the sky, but whatever it was, it was nowhere to be found.

“…why am I here?” He whispered softly, frowning as he started walking faster, his steps getting heavier and heavier, almost to the point of stumbling. He shook his head to clear it, taking deep breaths to calm himself.

He wanted to shake his head, telling himself that everything would turn out fine, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horrendously wrong. He tried to think of something, anything.

He was a guardian. A guardian Angel. He remembered that. He was here to… to protect people. So he probably shouldn’t leave until he found them. That was the logical decision, right? To find them and help them. To save them, at least.

But what had happened just then? Why was he doing this?

“I… can’t remember. I must’ve forgotten something.”

That was the most logical thing. But Angels don’t just… forget. Angels aren’t capable of forgetting. If anything, they always remember, no matter what. They remember every single detail, even when it hurts.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

He shook his head again, beginning to feel sick. He couldn’t place his finger on it but the atmosphere felt so different, it felt… off.

So, he hurried to keep moving, continuing to walk quickly through the park, trying to ignore the pain, the fear and anxiety. Trying to figure out what had just happened to him.

Something was wrong. There was a hole in his memories somewhere.

He shook his head harder, as if that would help.

“Ngggh…” He growled lowly, clenching his teeth as he continued to shake his head. He kept walking, refusing to stop, refusing to slow down or falter. He needed to get moving. He had a job to do and he couldn’t afford to waste another second.

But… what was he doing? Where was he? Why didn’t he remember? Why was he so scared?

He felt like he had to escape before he lost something important. Before something happened that he’ll never be able to recover from. Because he couldn’t let himself forget what happened. How terrified he felt, the way everything seemed to blur together so quickly - he couldn’t allow that.

Once again, he opened his wings, gliding as fast as he could into the sky, searching for any sign of life in the sky.

“I can’t afford to lose anyone.” He hissed, forcing himself not to stumble and trip as he moved swiftly across the sky. “Don’t let me forget. Don’t-“

He was an Angel. A protector. A bringer of light. He was here to protect people. And he was… leaving alone?

“Ach…” He hissed in slight pain, wincing as he flew a bit slower than the original speed. He glanced around, trying to look for anything, anything out of place. Anything strange, but his senses told him everything was normal.

Normal.

But that wasn’t right. Everything felt so wrong. Like something had happened. Like someone knew where he was.

No. No. This was crazy. This was a dream. It’s just a dream. Just a nightmare. A nightmare caused by stress and anxiety - what troubled him so much?

Maybe he had to protect someone. Maybe he shouldn’t leave. Shouldn’t just abandon them.

He shook his head, pressing his palm flat to his face. He should focus on finding his targets. Getting them back. Getting…

“I need to find them.” He said aloud, trying to convince himself of his own words. “There’s no time to spare. I need to get them, take them away. Away from this place.”

If he was surfing a simple brain fog, he couldn’t imagine what mortals would be suffering. It would be too painful. His mind wouldn’t be able to handle the pain of thinking about all the possibilities. All the horrible thoughts swirling around inside his own head that would be so unbearable to even think about that they would be impossible to bear.

It would break them. Make them shatter into pieces. No good Angel would leave mortals to that kind of fate. So, he would stay. He just needed a higher perspective so he could see better-

Light.

“Gah!” He cried out, falling through the sky. Falling. He fell.

He grabbed onto his chest tightly, squeezing his eyes shut as his arms flailed wildly as he struggled to regain control of his flight.

What was going on!? What was happening? He was falling - why was he falling?!

Why was he so scared?

He opened his eyes wide in shock, his grip loosened, allowing his hands to fall from where they had been clinging to his chest.

His vision began to swirl as his heart pounded in his chest. He blinked rapidly, attempting to keep his breathing steady, but his panic was making it hard. He couldn’t breathe. He was panicking. Oh God.

Where was he?

He felt like he was still plummeting through the air, unable to stop his fall. He tried to close his eyes against the wind, feeling something burn at the corners. The air whipped at his hair and clothes, tearing at him, and all he could do was brace himself for the crash.

Crash? Crash.

He was about to crash-

Mortis began to claw wildly at the air in a frenzy as if he just realized that he was falling. All he knew was that he was panicking, he was terrified, he was crying. He desperately tried to grab onto something despite now nonsensical it was. He couldn’t stop his hands from flying, clawing at anything that he could possibly reach. He wanted to scream in terror. He knew he could barely breath.

He closed his eyes tight, letting tears spill over as he clawed at his chest as if he was trying to get it out. His heart was screaming at him, like it had been broken a million times over. Like he realized something horrific but he had no knowledge.

He had never felt so helpless. Never felt more helpless in his entire existence. He was falling through the air with such force that he feared he break something if he were to hit the ground.

He crashed, crashing into the ground with such intensity that it cracked and shattered, sending shards everywhere. Dust filled the air, clouds of it obscuring sight, preventing Mortis from seeing his surroundings clearly. He curled up, feeling himself begin to cry, clutching his chest tightly, tears rolling down his face as he sobbed, his chest burning horribly.

“Help.” He gasped painfully, his eyes shutting tighter, tears dripping onto his cheeks. His arms wrapped around himself tighter. He was shivering slightly, although he could hardly tell.

There was a faint ringing in his ears as he came back to consiousness, his eyes still shut tight. His head spun and his chest tightened, and he felt his wings twitch. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes, wincing at the sudden brightness, before sitting up and taking another look around.

The dust that he assumed was stinging his eyes, didn’t help, and nothing immediately registered to him. Confused, he attempted to get up, feeling himself aching. He looked around for his cane, finding it nearby and grabbing it up, standing unsteadily. He turned to look around further, trying to figure out where exactly he was, before realizing.

He didn’t know. Or rather he was completely unsure of what happened at all. All he recalled was that he hurt, and he was looking for his cane to get up. That was about it.

“This is…” He mumbled quietly, raising his hands, shaking his head softly. “Where am I? Why did I come here? I thought I was working.”

Nothing at all came to mind. This place was vaguely familiar, reminding him of… he felt like he fit in in this area. There was a cottage, a few trees, golden paths. Fitting for an Angel.

Angel, he was a guardian Angel. He was supposed to protect people.

But… he didn’t know why this place made him feel so uncomfortable. He felt… empty. Empty and frightened. As if something had happened but he didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to remember it. He wasn’t sure if he could if he wanted.

Well, if this place was disturbing him, he could only imagine how poor mortals would be handling it.

His lips pulled into a frown as his hands dropped, staring around for a moment. If there was anyone out here, anywhere, then maybe he could try to get them out of whatever danger they might be in. Even if they weren’t in immediate danger. Especially if they weren’t in immediate danger. He couldn’t think of any danger here, nothing jumped out to him. But then again, he was exhausted, hurt, and emotional, for some reason. Nonetheless, he didn’t feel like he should leave. An Angel could handle this, surely.

He shook his head slowly, turning away, walking along one of the paths, his feet dragging slightly, his movements slow and unsteady as he walked. His wings were crumpled - not broken - but he didn’t pay any mind to it. They would be fine.

He would be fine.

He was fine.

He kept moving forward, trying to ignore the fear. The uncertainty. The doubt, the uncertainty. The fear. He didn’t want to think about it. Maybe he was just worried for the mortals. He always worried about them so much, maybe a bit too much, but they were fragile. Unlike him. It would take a lot to take down an Angel.

Maybe he’d go look for mortals soon, ease his own worries by watching over them. He did get teased for being a mother hen over the mortals, but it was part of his role as a guardian Angel. For now, he was tired, and this place looked very familiar. Maybe this was home.

He found himself at the front door of the cottage - he didn’t even know that he made his way over to it. Hesitantly, he opened the door, pushing it open gently as he stepped inside. Once he entered, he glanced around briefly before closing the door behind him softly. He glanced around the house. Nothing seemed out of place, aside from a single painting placed carefully beside a picture frame, which caught his attention for a moment.

Himself. He was never the prideful one, not asking for portraits, but it appeared that he indulged himself in a commission and it slipped his mind. He didn’t recall hanging it up, but he shrugged it off. It seemed silly anyway. Perhaps he hung it here as an oddity. A gift to himself. A reminder of sorts.

With a slight smile on his face, he moved forward. Surely, if he hung it up, this place was home.

[topherfoxtrot]

First Mission

In which the thunderbolts rescue and recruit Emil Blonsky, or at least that was the plan. This idea has been on my mind for a few days and with the introduction of Valentina last tfatws episode it felt like the right time. I won't list the team members here because I want it to be a surprise. Like, reblog or comment something if you enjoy your read :)

The Barrow base is the wall corner punishment of the government. No one likes it here. It is cold, far from absolutely everything and the paycheck is for regular maintenance and security. Which is utterly unfair since besides the big computers and kinda of important paperwork we are also guarding the strongest person on earth.

"Strongest?" Guard 2 interrupted the speech. "What about hulk?"

"Dude I dunno know. When was the last time someone measured the Abomination's strength? Oh that's right, never!"

"Alright that's fair but he's surely on top five or something. Otherwise we wouldn't be in this frozen hell guarding his ass."

"You shouldn't call him that." The guards heard a female voice. They both looked around quickly but didn't see no one besides themselves.

"Did you heart that?"

"Of course I did! Call the camera room."

"You sure?"

"Have you being paying attention to anything I've said? We are guarding the strongest..."

"Yeah yeah alright" guard 2 interrupted his coworker again "Camera room this is easy wing, cryo-cell. Have you registered any unwanted activity?"

"Hello east wing." Another female voice answered, "Everything is fine and you shouldn't be worried at all!" She in a sarcastic tone.

"This is not kyle!" Guard 1 said while grabbing his gun. Except it wasn't there.

He saw a blurry figure approaching them but he was not quick enough. The figure dressed in white kicked him in the face, making the guard fall on the ground. The other guard aimed his gun at the figure but she quicky disappeared again. The guard walked backward towards the nearest wall for safety, but his strategy backfired. He felt hands grabbing his head from behind and pulling it fast. His head hit the wall and he too fell unconscious. Ava made herself visible once both guards were down.

"East wing clear." She said on the radio.

"Alright. Second floor clear as well." Said Yelena from the camera room, "what about the third floor?"

"Still working on it." John answered out of breath. It was possible to hear the shield cutting the air and someone grunting.

"Good!" Valentina Alegra said from the viewpoint where they all were half an hour ago, "Ghost do you have the device?"

"I told you not to call me that." Ava said annoyed, "And yeah the thingy is here."

"Crypto breaking device!" Justin Hammer corrected a little more harsh than he intended to. He was also in the viewpoint.

"Shut up, Hammer." Yelena snaped back.

She met Ava in the entrance to the cryo vault where Emil Blonsky was sleeping. Ava got the crypto breaking device from her pocket and inserted it in the little panel beside the big door.

"How long did he said it was gonna take?" Ava asked.

"Anywhere from 12 minutes to an hour. Remember, the password changes every thirty minutes and there's about a gazillion possible combinations."

"That is so overly complicated. Why can't I just phase through the door?"

"We talked about this." Valentina said, "We want Captain Blonsky to be welcome in a civil manner. And this includes walking him out the front door."

Ava rolled her eyes. That made Yelena laugh.

"Too easy of a mission to shield's most dangerous stealthy agent?" She teased.

"I will only allow you to say that because you were also trained as a kid to be weapon."

"Ouch!" Yelena fake grunted. They both laughed.

John Walker turned the corner and met the other two in the entrance of the cryo vault. The double doors were made of heavy metal. Even with the super soldier serum running in his veins John wouldn't be able to open that. It was projected to contain Emil. But since he never woke up it has never been proof checked.

"How is the crypto breaking device going?" He asked.

"Thank you!" Justin hammer shouted from the viewpoint.

"Still working hard I guess." Yelena said, leaning at the wall with her arms crossed.

John put the shield on his back and started stretching. The three of them remained in silence. It was their first mission together so they didn't know each other quite yet. The only thing they had in common was the Contessa.

The crypto thingy kept making this weird sounds for about ten minutes until it made a final blip and the heavy doors clicked. Invisible gears turned inside out making loud and crusty noises followed by complete silence. The three agents looked at each other with a mix of excitement and fear.

"That's your cue guys." Valentina said. Which made them wake up from the trance.

John grabbed one door and Yelena grabbed the other. They opened it at the same time. Ava was the only one to enter because she was the only one who could phase through Emil's attacks.

The room was big and empty except for the huge cryo coffin in the center of it. It was the coldest place in the base and that made a chill run up Ava's spine. Emil Blonsky was asleep as he should be.

"He's bigger than I remember."

"have you met him?" Yelena asked through the radio.

"Not personally, no. But I saw it on tv when he and the Hulk had that fight on Harlem."

"Yeah I remember that too." John said.

Ava stopped right in front of Emil's frozen body.

"When is it supposed to...?"

"At any moment now!" Justin said embarrassed.

"That's why people prefer Stark tech." Valentina said.

"Don't say that, I'm sure Hammer did his best!" Ava said trying to cheer him up but was interrupted by the loud click that came from Emil's cell, "Oh fuck it's opening!" She said, her body phased around a bit.

After the weird click the cryo made a loud woosh sound while the door opened and the room was infested with cold air. Ava changed the weight on her feet preparing for the speech she rehearsed.

Emil opened his eyes slowly. The bright cold lights annoyed him. He covered his face with his right hand but that made him look at himself. At abomination. Ava started talking.

"Captain Emil Blonsky. Good evening. I'm Ava Starr and I'm here to rescue you. I-"

"Recue me?" Emil's voice was horrifyingly deep, "Do I look like I need rescue, girl?"

Ava swallowed nervously, "Some time has passed and we need you to calm down so we can-"

"How much time?" Emil looked around. His memories started to invade his mind like a tsunami. Harlem, the hulk, his defeat, "How much time?" He repeated, louder this time.

"He's unstable!" John would run into the room, but Yelena stopped him.

"Not the time for being the hero. She can handle herself."

John pressed his lips in frustration but agreed anyway. Inside the room Ava broke the plan. She felt sorry for Emil.

"Fifteen years." She said quietly.

"What??" Valentina screamed, "You shouldn't have said that! He's gonna-"

And he did. Before the Contessa could finish her sentence Emil jumped out of the roof. From the viewpoint both her and Justin observed as the huge man landed on the snow. He looked around and jumped again. It was impossible to follow his lead.

Yelena and John entered the room. Ava looked sad, but also happy with her decision.

"Shock treatment, huh?" Yelena said.

"It's alright I don't think he can simply sneak around." John reassured.

"He's going after Bruce Banner." Ava sighted "Do we know where he is?"

"I do!" Justin said.

"The mission is still up then." Yelena said, "He didn't left through the front door but we surely rescued him, right?"

"I like your positive thinking." John tilted his head at the door, "Shall we?"

The three of them left walking. One of the guards woke up only to be hit with the shield and faint again.

Mission status: partially accomplished.

[haleviyah]

A Hispanic/ Latino Perspective: Border Clarification

This is one of the rare times I’m going to get somewhat political here, but these comments spread by the media are hitting to way close to home for me, so here I go.

Before you pounce on me, let me explain this: I am a moderate. I favor no sides, I don’t treat people by their titles but rather I prefer to judge by character even though I am not the best at it, admittedly. I favour and respect those who keep their word and own their mistakes. In short, if you do what you promise to do, you have my approval whereas if not, you will bear the brunt of my blunt rebukes and sarcastic remarks.

I am also from South Texas, specifically the Rio Grande Valley, and am a descendent of two humble Mexican families who since the Mexican Border War have made Texas their great escape and home.

Bit of a geographical reference, if you don’t know here where the Rio Grande Valley is. Look at the state of Texas, there is a bulge of state going in each direction that makes it look like a fat, lower-case ”t” : El Paso is the most West of the state, the Panhandle (Amarillo) the Northmost, Texarkana the most Eastward followed by Houston, and WAAAAAAY at the bottom is Brownsville and the Southernmost tip of Texas.

And for those of you too lazy to Google or "DuckDuckGo" the map yourself I've attached it:

The four counties: Hidalgo, Cameron, Starr and Willacy county make up the Rio Grande Valley. This is the region I grew up, the place where I experienced the best of a community and the worst of politics and failed promises.

For a bit of background: I have a parent working on the Border and they have been for many years (since I was a kid). Pretty much worked from a security officer to trooper within the span of a decade which is quite impressive and rare considering they never took bribes or anything to get where they were currently. They have told me off and on what their job is like. It’s crazy and boring some days, but also they have admitted somethings that may be fascinating. One of which is, yes, they do own horses and the reason why is so the Troopers can maneuver around tough terrain vehicles cannot go through (such as high water or narrow foot paths in brush). HOWEVER, they DO NOT OWN WHIPS. They don’t even own lassos, according to my Border Agent parent.

The only weapons agents on horse back have is a Glock, ammo, a taser, cuffs, and sometimes shot guns (but they prefer to carry light for the horses and themselves to be more flexible). They mainly carry items that would slow a person down or prevent them from hurting other people, officer or civilian; not for killing. So a whip is absolutely redundant or even absurd to have.

Those long ropes the Troopers are holding are called reins, and they are designed for steering a horse (horses cannot move opposite of the direction of their head; where their head is pointed they move in that direction). They are not made for whipping people, but rather made to get the horse’s attention. That’s it.

I took the liberty of highlighting the reins in red for you all as well as their arms and legs in blue and yellow in contrast to the reins and saddle.

It's clear from a Texan's or horse-riders perspective this Trooper almost fell off catching the other fellow and was holding onto the left rein for dear life hence why the horse looked distressed and its cheek was pulled back.

I'm not joking, you fucking try it if you're so damn horse-smart.

Now, let's look at a more relaxed position.

In short, if you haven't ridden a horse, I advise to keep your comments to yourself on this part. I have and it's way harder than it looks (horses can get cocky).

Second thing, the migrants.

Personally, I don’t know why they were so squirrelly that day. Perhaps they were spooked because they’ve never expected horse back riders to show up, maybe they had some bad experiences back home.

I don’t know!

But it’s clear there appears to be a lack of communication. Perhaps it’s the language barrier given that these guys came from Haiti, African countries and Brazil. English they probably know, but they probably don’t speak a lick of Spanish (Which both languages are mandatory for the Border Patrol).

(Again, I don't know...)

So the reasons why they started running circles around the Troopers’ horses is not for me to speculate, it’s not for YOU to defend blindly, nor is it up for the media to interpret and evangelize.

That should be left to the people to explain. No one else.

(Update: September 29th. I received a tip from a source that the Haitian immigrants (mainly) are not running from anything, they aren’t seeking asylum nor were in poverty as the media claims. They have admitted upon interview they were what we consider middle-low class and had no issues finding jobs before they decided to migrate northward. They’re just coming because they were told to come by “you-know-who”… that’s all. I know, I’m taken aback and scratching my head, too… but anyway. I digress, but do take note.)

Now, another bit of feedback I want to share: When it comes to dealing with Troopers (again, must I remind you this is a Border Patrol agent’s kid speaking), big rule:

DO NOT RUN nor MAKE THREATENING MOVEMENTS. Be calm.

It’s a simple rule, if you’re cool with the Troopers they’ll be cool with you. That’s it. Please respectfully keep in mind, these guys are trained to be safe rather than sorry. So patience and understanding with them is a must. Trust me, I’ve met my parent’s co-workers, they may look stoic and scary or condescending, but they can not let personal emotions interfere their work otherwise they risk safety.

They’re not “paranoid” or “harsh” they just have a job they cannot afford to fuck up otherwise the whole region is FUCKED. They’re the front line of defense, and do keep that in mind.

(Another footnote: I have seen Border Patrol offices, and without giving away how they function it’s not like CIA or Langley level of clean or fancy, so don’t think their offices are high tech and have marble floors with comfy lounges that cost a lot of money. Upon first glance you won’t expect the building to be an office. Border Patrol work with what they have available which isn’t a lot thanks to the ’00, ’04, ’08, ’12 and current administrations. That’s all I can give out.)

I’m going to come clean here and say the citizens in the Rio Grande Valley and the rest of Texas DO NOT FEEL SAFE with a border this wide open and no regulation is applied. Especially the Hispanic/Latino communities. So the pressure is on - and I mean REALLY on! Despite these guys working the Border are overwhelmed, they keep those emotions and opinions on lockdown when on the field. Like I said: If they fuck up, the region is fucked.

Bit of a history lesson: the Border issues on the Rio Grande are not new. Matter of factly, this problem has been happening for decades (The popular peak was during the 80s when cocaine was being distributed), but it was more than just cocaine and pot: Kids were going missing, people getting killed, women were used as mules and sold for sex, etc.

If you watched “Narcos” or “Sicario” you have a brief, dramatized taste of how the cartels function and what life is like for us Latinos. However, coming from someone who grew up there, the parts of watching your back, the abductions and even the gruesome murders are legit. To this day I remember seeing local news coverage (not CNN or MSNBC, our own stations down in the McAllen/Brownsville area) of beheadings, child murders and bodies being found in pieces… It’s something I hope my children won’t have to grow up hearing almost weekly like I did. Now it’s daily… and no one cares. And that hurts.

In the grand scheme of things, at least know this: South Texas has been part of the Cartel battle grounds and it’s obvious we’ve seen shit. Constantly being ignored is the payment we get for being front lines in the Drug War. So don’t blame us for being jumpy, or skeptical, nor even try convince us that the current surplus of immigrants is a good thing.

You can’t argue with our own experiences and history. The way things work down here is simple: You fight along side us, we fight along side you.

It’s called building trust, practicing faith. But we’ve been forgotten and lied to too many times by celebrities and politicians and social movements alike. And those who actually were going to help us are either shut down or unfortunately killed.

We just can’t trust anyone anymore. We are resorting to fending for ourselves basically, speaking up for ourselves… and so far it’s making progress in the mean time.

This level of “doing things on your own” bleeds into why our Troopers are trained they way they are trained - to expect the worst case scenario. To prepare themselves for the corpses, when a criminal pounces, the drugs being hid, for when they find a child with an adult they don’t know, or even a woman who was violated. They just genuinely don’t want to take chances and you just read why. Even my in-laws up in the Northern Midwest are disturbed.

So, considering the case of what happened a few days ago in Del Rio, Texas (as of writing this on September 25th 2021): If you run from a Trooper the first thing they are going to think is either two things:

You did something bad upon coming in to the country or

You don’t want your former government to find you because you did crimes in your home country or the country you were hiding in.

This is protocol, not biased opinions.

If, however, a Trooper commits any form of irresponsibility (such as abusing their power, unreasonable search and seizures etc.) it’s “kiss your badge good-bye” and DEMOTED or FIRED. The stakes of keeping your job in the Border Patrol are HIGH, so they are trained not to act out of line. Even a minor slip up in paper work from being fatigued gets you in SEVERE trouble with the Higher Ups and the County (Yes, that does happen and has happened). But you have to KNOW Border Patrol standards before you accuse them of anything.

With that being said, what’s floating around is not a constructive argument; it’s a distraction. How the public is demanding the trooper in the photo to be fired, tells us Latinos loud and clear that - once again - no one cares about our livelihood; no one is willing to brave enough to face the real hell going on. We are ignored or low-key demonized for simply defending ourselves.

(Now, you guys are seeing why I relate to my Jewish husband and the Israeli’ citizens - Arab and Jew - more; we’re pretty much in the same boat in the case of being ignored. But I digress.)

Before I come to a conclusion, here are other demographic facts to keep in mind that way it’ll help draw conclusions:

86.6% of the Border Patrol is HISPANIC/LATINO in the State of Texas alone.

A majority of children stolen from their families or molested are HISPANIC/LATINO.

A majority of the women violated immigrants on the border are mainly HISPANIC/LATINO.

Latin America collectively (Mexico down to Colombia and Venezuela) has the highest rates of femicide in the world.

So for you or anyone to get angry at Border Patrol agents in an unjust manner, not only are you getting mad at Hispanics and Latinos in UNIFORM for fighting to keep their communities safe, but you are actively contributing to the hell our families go through every day.

When you protest in demand for our cops or even troopers to be defunded, and fired for petty things, YOU are actively contributing to the problem of human trafficking, rape, kidnappings and murder that happens on the border. You are contributing to the Hispanic and Latino communities being dismantled and disintegrated by people who potentially want to kill us or hate us for money’s sake.

Take all of that into consideration before you get angry at anyone here.

In short:

I’ll only consider the accusations if you yourselves have been there and know the burdens we bear.

I’ll only consider your judgement if you genuinely are in law enforcement and know how to ride a horse and try to stop someone from running while riding the beast.

I’ll only consider your feedback if you don’t rely heavily on news like CNN, Telemundo and Tumblr for your information.

Until you grab a gun and fight the cartel yourself, and figure out a way to end this war on human trafficking, don’t come to us Latinos and express that you care and appreciate us.

Because frankly if you GENUINELY did, you’d bring to light what I just said and be slamming the desks at D.C. and DEMANDING the Border to be CLOSED by now.

Regardless of your political and personal beliefs, this is what is REALLY going on, and we’re going to keep fighting. Like the Israeli’s we don’t give a fuck if you hate us. We’re not radicals, we’re not blood-thirsty heathens, we’re not white supremacists (80+% of our population is of Latino Mexican descent) we’re just fed up with running away and being taken advantage of or taken for granted by people who value money over the lives of our neighbors.

If this were California, fine! Rail all you want, cuss us out as much as you want; hold us to those to California standards you keep yourself. But we’re not California.

We’re not D.C., nor Chicago, nor L.A., or New York, Florida, Canada, Mexico or whatever. We are SOUTH TEXAS so treat us as SOUTH TEXAS.

Honor us for who we are and hold us to the standards of what is SOUTH TEXAS, what is The United States Constitution, and the Texas Constitution; nothing more and nothing less. Don’t tear us down for what we’re not nor hold us accountable to an opinion or law we never agreed to nor knew existed.

That’s all I ask: If you’re not willing to honour our community and help us while holding us to our standards on a cultural, State or Federal level, back the fuck off. Generations we’ve dealt with the pressure from both the cartel and corrupt government from both the U.S. and Mexico, and the last thing we need is pampered kids living in the high rises or going to university on loans from school or your parents' paychecks, telling us how to deal with our issues.

You are FAR from a place to tell us how to function and resolve our war.

I’m not trying nor want to start a fight or otherwise, but I’m simply, humbly asking: when did we ever genuinely ask you “social justice advocates” to be our hero?

When did we ever ask you to fight for us or talk about what you think is wrong with us? Because last I checked we don’t want to drag anyone into our battles.

Also, we only know one messiah, but we never asked you to be him nor for him to act like you.

Did you start throwing punches because you wanted to find something to excuse your anger and outbursts, or is your good intentions married with ignorance?

Either case… it’s extremely unhealthy of you, and please just stop before another person gets hurt. We don’t want that. This is no different from the Crusades our ancestors took part in, and it will only end in more carnage than already sown.

So, just please, stop and take a step back for a moment. We don’t need anymore vehement evangelical-like people who just think with their ideals and not take a moment to have a healthy discussion with the One who created us, or let alone divorce their lust for a fight for ten seconds.

To close this off, even though I haven’t been home in a while, I know the spirit and the struggles the Rio Grande Valley goes through. I have met people on the run from the cartel first hand, and I have met people who may have ties with the cartel. I have seen some creepy shit, I have grown frustrated over the Protestant Baptist church doing nothing, and I have even been feeling the pressure my parent goes through with these apathetic riots threatening their job as a Border Patrol agent.

But aside from the pain, I am tremendously blessed that people and my family are still very optimistic despite the craziness and how bleak things are.

The family-oriented culture of the Rio Grande Valley is what is keeping it together… not trends, not clout and neither these guys in D.C. or Hollywood who are playing G-d.

It's the family-oriented connection. Our faith, that's keeping us going.

And even though I may not be the best voice of that region to speak up, I am blessed to have been there and I do plan on coming back soon.

I am planning on giving a more fun journal featuring the culture of the Rio Grande Valley in the future to finish this month off, but for the sake of this “Hispanic Heritage Month” I wanted to share our REAL issues we deal with rather than the made up ones that media likes to mainstream for money and clout.

In a way, I hope this offers clarity and a level of empathy. Again, I’m not sharing this to start fights or get sympathy - we don’t want it. We just want to know if our fights are not ignored, we just want to know we are heard.

That’s all.

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

CURSED: CHAPTER FIVE

"Had I known how to save a life"

Kai Parker x OC!Mack Grace

Series synopsis: "We're both cursed, in a way."

We all know the story of Kai Parker, but he once lived in a very different life. Do you ever wonder what that life looked like?

Chapter summary: there’s a party

Warnings: ben is a douche, Kai is kinda sweet

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

It had been about 20 minutes since they realised Nicole was alive and a lot had happened, Mack had broken into more tears and an ambulance had arrived. The fire engine had retrieved Nicole and she was on her way to the hospital, everyone else either stood around awkwardly in shock or heading home. Mack leant against a tree and sunk to her knees covering her face with her hands. She sat there for god knows how long. She hadn't seen Kai or Ben since the almost fight and she didn't particularly want to either. She looked up a someone cleared their throat.

"Need a hand?" Kai said - almost shyly - holding his hand towards her. Mack stared into his eyes but didn't move, before Kai sighed and extended his hand further. "C'mon Kenz, I don't bite." She carefully put her hand in his and Kai yanked Mack to her feet, pulling her close to him and whispering in her ear. "At least not unless you want me to." His hot breath fanned across her face and Mack looked away turning red. Kai stepped back and winked, backing away.

No matter the situation, Kai always managed to make Mack so flustered and it annoyed the shut out of her. Why? Why him of all people? Mack sighed, annoyed and walked towards Ben's car, before noticing it was gone.

"Need a ride?" Kai's cocky voice sounded from behind her. Mack threw her head back before looking back up and putting on a fake smile and turning to face him.

"No- yes. Please." She said quickly, a smirk breaking into Kai's face and he gestured for Mack to follow him. His unlocked his jeep and let Mack inside before going to his side of the car and climbing in.

Mack rested her head back against the seat and the tears suddenly fell. She was so close today, too close. Kai froze.

"You okay, Kenz?" You could slightly heat the concern in his voice. She clenched her eyes shut and pressed her lips together before turning to Kai and shaking her head. "Hey, hey. It's fine. She didn't die, it's not your fault, Kenz. It's that jackass you call a boyfriend." She nodded and he placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, not sure what to do.

"It's not fine, Kai." She spat through the tears, breaking down into even more.

"Shhhh, okay it's not fine. But it's still not your fault." He reassured her, before pulling her into his chest and wrapping his arms around her. The embrace was awkward at first, but they both melted into it soon enough. Kai's hand ran through Mack's messy hair and he rubbed her back soothingly, trying to make her calm again.

As the tears subsided Mack pulled away and wiped her now wet eyes before sitting back into her seat. Kai's Starr was still on her.

"You need anything?" His voice was unsure.

"Just take me home, please."

~

The sun leaking through the slight gap in the curtains made Mack's eyes fluttered open. She groaned and rolled over, pulling the covers back over her head. But they were yanked back down straight away.

"Ah ah ah sweetheart, you don't want to miss breakfast do you?" The sound of Kai's voice from beside her made Mack shoot up and instantly look under the covers. Clothes were on. But they were not what she was wearing last night. She was in one of Kai's AC/DC T-shirts and her underwear. Shit. She looked to the side to see a grinning Kai laying over the covers with his hands folded behind his head and his ankles casually crossed. Her eyebrows pulled together as she spoke.

"Why am I-" Kai cut her off before she could get any further.

"In completely different clothes to last night? I thought you'd be uncomfortable in a wet suit." Kai's smirk was evident through the insistent grin.

"You saw me naked?!" Mack almost screeched with wide eyes, holding the covers over her chest.

"Maybe." His grin was now a full-blown smirk. Mack made a noise of disbelief before slapping his arm and scrambling out of the bed, trying to hold the covers over her half-naked body but failing. Her feet twisted with the dark blue sheets and her shoulder collided with the wall.

"Ouch." Kai mused through his hysterical laughter and Mack stumbled into the adjoined bathroom and kicked the door shut with her foot, shouting a muffled 'fuck off!' as she did so.

Once getting into the bathroom Mack instantly spotted her wet suit and bikini top on the floor. Mack double checked the door was locked before tugging the t-shirt over her head and putting her cloths from yesterday back on. A sudden knock on the door made her jump.

"You know, wet suits are uncomfortable. I could always lend you some clothes." Kai shouts from the other side of the door. Mack sighed and unlocked it.

"Really?" She asked hopefully, popping her head round the side. Kai thrust an armful of clothes towards her and Mack backed into the bathroom to get changed. "Thanks."

"No problem, you look sexy in my clothes anyway." Kai winked and Mack scoffed before rolling her eyes and closing the door.

A minute later she walked out clad in light grey sweats and another one of Kai's t-shirts, this was a black Nirvana one.

"Kai?"

"Yes, Kenz."

"Why am I not home?" For some reason Mack hadn't asked that question yet.

"You fell asleep in the car and I felt too bad to wake you so I took you back to mine." Kai said with a fake pout.

"You felt bad? Wow. Funny." Mack scoffed. "Wait. I slept in your bed, which means-" Kai cut her off again.

"I slept on the couch." He finished for her, flashing a smile of innocence. Mack's mouth was still open. She closed it after a second and frowned.

"Oh."

"You want a ride home?"

"I thought you said breakfast was ready."

"I did, and I lied. I just didn't know how you'd react to being woken up and I was bored." Mack rolled her eyes at Kai's words and picked up her stuff.

"Sure. Take me home." Kai stayed on the bed. "Please." He jumped up and brushed past her and out the door.

"Whatever you say babe." Mack stopped in her tracks.

"Babe? That's what you've resorted to now?" The disbelief her her voice clear.

"Well, you told me you didn't like princess, so..." Kai trailed off and grinned before continuing his was down the stairs.

"Where's Jo? And your parents?" Mack wondered as Kai locked the door.

"They're away for the week." He said simply.

"The whole week? Without you?" Mack pushed.

"I didn't want to go. It's some family thing - there's always something happening." He shrugged, getting into his car.

"Oh." Mack could've think of anything else to say.

"So I'm having a bunch of people round mine tonight, wanna come?" Kai asked with a smirk. Mack shook her head and tried to hide her laugh.

"I'll pass. Hanging out with you're lot never works out well for me." Mack snorted.

"'My lot'? What's that, Kenz?" Kai tilted his head questioningly.

"You know, the popular kids. The jocks and self-obsessed bitches that gossip and call themselves pretty." Kai raised a brow.

"Self-obsessed bitches who think they're pretty? What'd they do to you?" Kai laughed. Mack crossed her arms and scoffed. "That bad?!" He continued laughing.

"I meant what I said. I used to be part of that crowd, realised they were awful and graduating school was more important so I left." Mack defeated. All Kai did in response was nod.

"Here we are, babe." Kai pulled into Mack's drive and brought the car to a stop. She rolled her eyes but said nothing.

"Thanks." Mack said before getting out the car and walking into the house.

"Think about tonight! It's starts at 8!" Kai shouted before driving off.

~

"Mack!" Kim shouted. Mack groaned and padded over to her door, flinging it open and shouting back.

"What?!" Mack answered with a bored voice.

"Ben's here! He's coming up!" Kim replied and sauntered off, letting Ben make his way up the stairs.

"Hey babe." Ben greeted as he walked through her door, placing a chaste kiss on Mack's lips. She cringed internally and turned away, plopping back down onto her bed. "Get changed. We're going to Kai's." Ben spoke.

"W-What? I already told him I wasn't going." Mack defended.

"Since when are you hanging out with Kai? And hurry up, we need to be there in 20 minutes." Ben's tone was demanding.

"He took me home last night after you disappeared." Ben rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "And I'm not just gonna up and leave because you tell me too." Ben's expression was over taken with rage.

"Yes. You. Are. You never go out with me and people are starting to think you're not into me. You're coming." With that Mack gave up, scared to anger her boyfriend further. She pulled some cloths out her drawer and put them on, discarding her pyjamas on her unmade bed and walking over to Ben. He pulled her into him, making Mack gasp, and brushed his hand over her cheekbone before trailing it over her curves and grabbing her ass. "Mmmm, you look sexy. I can't wait to tear this off you later." Ben whispered in her ear before intertwining their hands and pulling her out of the room with him.

As they pulled into Kai's drive Mack slipped out the car and waited for Ben, who wrapped his arm around her waist and led Mack to the front door. He knocked loudly and the door soon swung open, revealing Kai, who's head was facing away from them.

"Sure, just don't go in Jo's room - she gets cranky if everything isn't perfect." Kai shouted down the hall to someone in the house. Mack soon spotted the couple rush up the stairs and she put two-and-two together. "Hey guys." Kai greatest with a smile as he turned back to them, shooting Mack a subtle wink when he saw her and making her cheeks flush. "Come on in. Mi Casa es su Casa." He said, stepping to the side and holding his arm out as an invitation.

The couple ventured into the house, walking their way to the living room where around 10 of Ben's friends were sat with red solo cups in their hands all laughing at something someone had said.

"Ben! My man!" A guy called Mitchell shouted as he clapped Ben on the back, who was already smiling and greeting all his friends. The two found a place on the sofa, where Ben pulled Mack into himself further. Kai sat down on Mack's other side - not before handing both of them a drink and sending her a smirk as she looked his way. She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the girl sat on a bean bag on the opposite side of the coffee table that occupied the centre of the room.

"Who wants to play truth or dare?" She slurred slightly. Cheers hollered through the room and eventually everyone had agreed. "Okay, Matthew. Who's the sexiest girl in this room?" The girl started. Matthew surveyed the room, before his eyes landed on a girl Mack new as Sophia. He bit his lip, giving her a once over and winking.

"It's gotta be Sophia, baby." He called back and the boys laugh, Sophia giggling and blushing slightly. "Right, my turn." Matthew looked over everyone until he saw Kai. "Okay, new guy. Best sex you've ever had?" Kai shook his head.

"For-fit, give me the dare, dude." His ever-present smirk was still there but he looked sheepish, almost. Lots of 'ooooo's and 'that bad?'s came from the crown of teens.

"Okay, I dare you to take off an item of clothing." Matthew orders. Kai grins and pulls his t-shirt over his head, leaving it on the floor and sitting back into the couch. Mack felt herself keep giving his toned, bare chest glances and had to stop herself, instead focusing on the next dare. She missed the first part but caught the end of it.

"Courtney, I dare you to take off your panties and give them to the guy in this room you'd be most likely to smash." Kai said with an evil smirk, looking in the direction of a blonde girl who was wearing a short black skirt and crop top. Her cheeks flushed red and she stood up, removing her underwear and shyly walking over to a guy Mack didn't know the name off. Courtney placed the fabric in his hand before sitting back down, crossing her legs awkwardly.

Mack zoned out for a while, only snapping back to reality when she heard Ben's name.

"Ben, what's the dirtiest thing you've ever done with Mack?" One of the guys asked with a sly expression. Mack looked down at her hands and twiddled her thumbs, feeling everyone's gaze on her. She drowned out Ben's response the second she heard him start.

"Well Mack does this thing with..." she didn't listen to the rest. There was a chorus of cheers and 'no way!'s before Ben settles back into the seat. "Okay babe, what's your dirtiest secret?" Ben asked, nudging her side playfully. That I want to see Kai Parker over me, she thought instantly. She shook herself out of it quickly.

"Um, pass. D-dare please." She said sheepishly.

"Okay, I dare you to take off your bra." Ben said, kissing her cheek and winking at her. Mack leant forward, reaching around her back and unclasping her bra. She pulled the material from under her shirt and threw it on the floor. She heard someone shout 'the old Mack is back!' and everyone laughed, even her. Mack felt herself grow a bit more comfortable, like she used to be. She turned to the girl that started and asked:

"Okay, Tracy, what's your biggest fear?" Tracy refuses to answer. "Fine. Down 5 shots of the strongest alcohol Kai has in the house." Kai shook his head, grinning, beside her and pushed himself up, soon returning with some shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He set them out on the table and poured the shots.

Mack's attention was drawn to Ben who started kissing her neck, moving his hand to her inner thigh.

"Let's go somewhere a little more private." He whispered in her ear, pulling the girl up to standing. He held her hand in his, dragging her away from the living room and towards the stairs. As they turned the corner Mack caught Kai's eye, who looked almost disappointed to see her leaving with her boyfriend. His look soon turned to one of sympathy and Mack gulped, turning back to look at her boyfriend who wore a dark expression.

[mithranqueersmusings]

The Night Before IX

Chapter: 9/15

Rating: T

Summary: Ringo hangs around after the club closes and meets a stranger.

Tags: Smut, Slow Burn

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Ringo was quickly getting used to the sight of George in his clothes, sitting on his sofa in a tattered Fleetwood Mac shirt and some loose black joggers. He was relieved when George wanted to stay up for a while rather than crashing straight into bed, because then it would only be a matter of time before they had to part ways once more. Two cups of tea were made, both drank gladly and mostly in silence. The alcohol circling in their body wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, but Ringo couldn't deny that being sober right now wouldn't have been the worst thing.

"What are you gonna do about your clothes?" Ringo asked, warming his hands on the mug.

George shrugged "I dunno, I guess I'll have to try and get them back tomorrow. That'll be a fun conversation."

Ringo chuckled "Well I can give you a lift tomorrow, if you like. In the car mind, not on my back."

"If you're insisting, that'd be great." George smiled at him, his cheeks still a little red from the cold and tipsiness.

"I am." Ringo replied, settling into the sofa.

Whenever silence would eventually arrive, Ringo no longer found himself becoming uncomfortable, he could sit with George saying nothing without worrying about what to say next. The hum of the lights and the distant sound of the city outside were calming, only making him feel safer in his own space.

"You know what I'd kill for right now?" George asked, twisting his body around so that he could face Ringo directly.

"What?" Ringo asked after a pause, assuming George would continue speaking.

"A spliff." George answered, taking a large sip from his mug then putting it down onto the table that was still littered with empty alcohol bottles.

"Oh, well..." Ringo began "I could roll one right now."

George's face lit up immediately, Ringo found himself replicating the smile "Really?"

"Sure." Ringo answered with a small laugh, putting his own mug down "Might be a little rough, I don't usually do it when I'm drunk."

Ringo got up from the sofa and disappeared into his bedroom, fishing around in his bedside table for the small bag he kept all the necessities in. He never smoked as much as he used to, but every so often himself, Paul and John would get high and watch ridiculous movies together, so he always made sure to keep his wares stocked up. It was definitely one way to get rid of a hangover, but it was rare that Ringo was conscious enough to even remember he had weed, let alone roll it, after a long night out. Returning into the room, George's smile hadn't wavered as he watched Ringo clear some space on the table.

"You take such good care of me, don't you Ringo?" George asked with a grin, stretching himself along the sofa so that his clothed feet brushed against Ringo's thigh lightly.

"Can't say that I don't try." Ringo spoke a little quieter, focusing on the task at hand.

"Is that gonna be a problem?" George asked, pointing to the smoke alarm on the ceiling.

Ringo didn't reply for a while, only looking up after he'd finishing rolling "Oh, that, don't worry it doesn't work."

"Shouldn't you get it fixed? What if there's a fire?" George sounded only slightly concerned.

"But then I couldn't smoke inside." Ringo retorted, his words a little mumbled as he began lighting it.

Ringo leaned back into the sofa, exhaling deeply as he watched the smoke circle into the air. He could already feel his head clearing a little, the pain of the drunken headache being replaced by the fuzz of the high. Offering it over to George, he crawled closer to Ringo and took the spliff carefully in his hand. It was hard to keep his eyes off George, watching his fingers and lips, his eyes twinkling with a secret thought. A grin spread across George's face as he smoked, taking his last drag he turned Ringo's face to his own and pressed a soft kiss onto his lips, exhaling the smoke into his mouth. Ringo leant into the kiss, inhaling the smoke as best he could. George pulled away with a smug grin, passing the spliff over to Ringo then stretching himself out into his lap. It was another level of intimacy Ringo felt honoured to experience, his hand instinctively moving to George's head to play with his hair.

"Any chance you wanna get some food?" George asked, his eyes fluttered shut.

Ringo carelessly tapped the ash onto the arm of the sofa, ideally he'd find an ashtray discarded somewhere but he wasn't about to risk George moving from this position.

"There's a cheap place we usually order from." Ringo paused to exhale, passing it along once more "If you like greasy chicken."

George accepted it gladly, his eyes already showing the signs "This is the part where I tell you I'm vegetarian."

"Oh... Well they've got chips." Ringo laughed, watching George longingly.

George fought back a cough "Are they good chips, though? I'm trusting you here, Ringo."

"They're pretty good." Ringo couldn't stop smiling, his mind beginning to swirl "If you don't like them just don't pay me back, sound fair?"

"Sounds fair." George nodded his head "You can have the joy of finishing that off."

Ringo accepted the shrunken spliff carefully, enjoying the way his fingers brushed with George as they delicately tried to pass it between one another. Yet another surprise to bring the night to a satisfying close, it seemed that every time he was with George something unpredicted was going to crop up, but every time it was a blessing. George seemed to read Ringo's mind, grabbing his discarded phone and passing it up to him before he even needed to ask. Ringo smiled down at him, from this angle he looked purely stunning, he only hoped George's perspective was half as flattering.

Operating his phone was a little more difficult than usual, having to pull it away from his face like an elderly person without their reading glasses. He'd ordered so many times from this takeaway that they'd started giving him freebies, perhaps that was a sign that he was smoking too much but he'd happily reap the benefits tonight. Selecting his own signature order: a chicken burger, chips and a coke, he then passed the phone to George who was evidently struggling just as much as Ringo had been. Ringo flicked the now finished spliff onto the table, dreading the clean up he'd have to do in the morning. George passed the phone back with a smile, relaxing further into Ringo's lap as he let out a happy sigh. Ringo ordered the food and chucked his phone to the other end of the sofa, welcoming the intoxicating feeling.

"You wanna watch something while we eat?" Ringo asked, his fingers buried deep in George's dark hair.

George made an affirming noise "Like what?"

"I've got quite the selection of boxsets, I must admit." Ringo found himself speaking softly "If you wanna have a look."

George grunted "In a minute... I'm pretty comfy right now."

They remained like this for a while, George's breathing gradually slowing as Ringo loosely played with his hair. Ringo knew this was only a mixture of the alcohol and the weed making them act like this, so unafraid of being intimate and vulnerable with one another, but he cherished it all the same. Several minutes had passed before Ringo had realised that George had actually fallen asleep, creating an array of potential problems, but he would hold them all off for now and let George rest. It gave Ringo time to examine his face a little closer without running the risk of being caught staring: he noticed the light hints of hair between George's eyebrows which appeared to be shaven but had started to regrow, the length of his eyelashes, the beginnings of stubble on his upper lip and the way his ears protruded out from his head. All these little details just furthering the love he had for George's face, the true beauty of it.

Unfortunately it couldn't last forever, and eventually Ringo had to gently rock George back into consciousness, it wouldn't be long before the food arrived.

"George..." Ringo spoke softly "You've gotta wake up."

George's face screwed up, his eyes still closed, letting out a groan before he seemed to awaken fully. It was a sight Ringo only hoped he'd be able to witness time and time again, even if that wasn't the case he could at least enjoy it for now.

"Shit." George laughed "How long was I asleep for?"

"Not long." Ringo smiled down at him "But we don't wanna miss our food now, do we?"

George reluctantly sat up, rolling his neck slowly and tensing his shoulders. He looked rather sheepish, undoubtedly a little embarrassed that he'd let his guard down so willingly. Ringo similarly stretched out his arms, he hadn't been sitting in the most comfortable position but he was willing to sacrifice his own comfort to guarantee George's.

"Where are these boxsets you were going on about, then?" George asked, getting up from the sofa.

Ringo remained seated and pointed towards the cabinet besides his television "Just in there. Pick whatever you want."

George squatted down, opening the door and perusing through Ringo's possessions. In this day and age it wasn't too common to have so many material copies, but there was something about physically owning the discs that Ringo loved, something he felt could never be replaced even with the accessibility and inconvenience of streaming services. George hummed to himself as he looked through the titles on offer, then reached forward and pulled out one of Ringo's many Simpsons series; he held it up to Ringo for approval who nodded eagerly.

"What a fantastic choice." Ringo teased as George busied himself with the DVD player.

Ringo reached for his phone, realising the food was only a few minutes away. He also noticed a few texts from John but they didn't appear to be anything urgent, no doubt he'd give him a call sometime in the morning anyway. For now he was going to enjoy George's company while it still lasted. George returned to the sofa, remote in hand, relaxing as though it were his own living room.

"Without running the risk of overstaying my welcome," George began "Do you have a blanket or anything? I'm getting kinda chilly."

Ringo laughed "I might have to start charging for all these services, you know. I'm not a bed and breakfast." Though he got up in search for a blanket all the same.

He found one folded up in one of the corners of his still relatively messy room, bringing it out to George and spreading it out across the sofa. George appreciated the gesture, smiling up at Ringo as he found the comfiest position possible. Ringo glanced at his phone then headed towards the door.

"Just gonna grab the food." He announced, grabbing his keys and hopping down the steps towards the entrance.

He wished the deliveryman a good night, only hoping he didn't notice what a state of intoxication he was currently in, then hurried back to the haven that his flat was rapidly turning into. George had his head rested on the arm of the sofa, Ringo wouldn't be surprised if he fell asleep once again, but he perked up a little when he saw the bag in Ringo's hand.

Ringo dished out the food, grabbing some ketchup from his kitchen and further crowding the coffee table with it. George accepted the chips with a smile and tucked into them ravenously, pressing play on the remote and beginning the all-too-familiar theme song. Ringo kicked off his shoes, curling his legs up onto the sofa under the warmth of the blanket while he tucked into his burger.

"Thanks for all this, Ringo." George spoke softly, looking directly at the screen and avoiding all eye-contact "You really are something else."

"Well I wouldn't do this for just about anyone, you know." Ringo replied, his eyes drifting over to George.

"How lucky I am." George said somewhat sarcastically, laughing before he filled his mouth with chips once more.

Ringo felt the exact same way.

[georgeharris0n]

Blisters On His Fingers - Chapter 2 - “First Date, If John Doesn’t Ruin it”

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 4.3k

Chapters: 2/25

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, Minor Paul McCartney/John Lennon

Plot Summery:  George can't help but watch Rory Storm and The Hurricanes play, but John and Paul know he just has his eyes for their drummer. Ringo has some problem with his hands, and George may just see his perfect opportunity to talk to the handsome drummer. (Hamburg Beatle Era)

Note: It’s herE! Here’s a litlle something, as a early Christmas gift! Multi Chapter Hamburg Starrison Fic? you bet! @cirilee​ and I worked very hard on research and planning for the fic and I’m so happy to finaLLY released the first continuation chapter (Thank you sOOO much Ciri! ily ::o::)

Read Chapter 1 Here

Inhaling the stale air in the Bambi Kino cinema was probably the worst thing to wake up to since arriving in Hamburg, but after last night, George barely even noticed. Peeking his eyes open, he adjusted to the artificial light in the damp cement block they called a room. He felt as light as air… George had kissed him. Ringo Starr, George Harrison kissed Ringo Starr.

It’s a wonder George had gotten any sleep at all after that. He remembers staring up at the pitch black ceiling for hours last night and just looking at his smile, the smoothness of his cheek and scruff of his jaw… reliving that moment when he just fucking went for it.

George let out a pleased sigh and stretched his arms above his head.

After a moment he turned over to the bed opposite his only to be faced with two snickering bastards staring back at him. Of-fucking-course, can’t have one single moment of peace can I?

“Sleep alright’ there princess?” John smirked taking a drag from his ciggy.

George groaned. No, not even John could ruin this morning for him.

“Shut up Lennon, and give me drag huh?” He reached toward the nightstand table for the cigarettes, but Paul swooped in all to quick before George could take a blow.

 “What the-”

 “You can have a ciggy after you tell us the details. So spill.” Paul smirked and scooted beside John, taking advantage of his leverage.

 “Details? I- what do you want to know? How do you know anything happened?” George stammered, he thought it would be easy to burst out and tell his best mates what happened, but his nerves seemed to get the best of him.

 Paul scoffed. “Well for starters, you woke up in this shithole with that dreamy smile on your face.”

George felt himself flush, gosh he was smiling pretty wide huh?

 “Yea, and not to mention you coming home at fucking 4 in the mornin’.” John quipped while tapping his ashes off onto the floor, which Paul detested, but couldn’t really argue with considering how nasty the room already was.

 “Well- I.. I’m sure you both enjoyed the alone time.” George teased, hoping to distract from himself a little longer. It held some truth, it was pretty hard living just the three in one room, even harder when he bunked with Pete. John and Paul rarely got to get cozy and the two of them were a committed item, which took awhile since John insisted he wasn’t “queer”. Course, he was over the moon for Paul the moment they met, which was pretty frustrating at first. George saw it, and he knows as soon as those two finally stopped being resisitent, they were all over each other.

 John leaned back lazily and chuckled. “I wish! Sadly, Paul wouldn’t put out. The only tossin’ and turnin’ all he’d do was worry about you getting home, real mood killer you are Georgie boy-” Paul smacked a pillow into John’s face before he kept running his mouth.

 “Piss off John! He’s distracting us! Come on’ George and tell us before John gets his teeth punched in will ya?”

George snickered at the display of Paul looking like an eager parent or older sibling, practically on the edge of his seat.

George fiddled a little with his hands, remembering how the night before he used these same ones to care for Ringo’s palms. How rough Ringo’s hands felt from years of drumming. George liked that much more than silky soft hands, it’s like every scar and callus could tell a story. He hoped Ringo would let him hold them again during their date- Ohfuck. THEIR DATE.

 “Shit! My date! He asked me on a date!” George was standing now, throwing off his blanket and immediately going into a panic.

 Ringostarraskedmeonadate! Howcould I forget thaT-

 The lad was already rummaging hopelessly for clean clothes to wear to no avail. While John and Paul were both now standing probably trying to catch up on the bomb he just dropped into the room.

 “You finally snagged a date with the Hurricane’s drummer?”

John was shocked like he couldn’t believe his ears.

 George looked up from his pile of clothes and he knew he was unfolding, it couldn't be stopped now. “I- well I kissed im’ first, then he asked to see me tomorrow, so… yes?”

 “Hold on! Wait- you’re telling me you kissed him and didn’t tell us? Just sat there like a smiling idiot knowing you kissed the lad we watched you pine over for months?” Paul was almost offended, all that waiting and George didn't tell him sooner?

 “Listen!” George didn’t have time for questions, the stakes were much higher now “Yes! Yes okay? I kissed him, and now we have a date,TODAY, and i have no fucking idea when he gets here so if one of you could get off your asses and HELP ME PLEASE!”

 George was losing his mind, he had no idea what to wear, how much time he had, what he was supposed to do- but of course, Paul did. “George, clean yourself up, and I’ll find you some clothes alright?”

 “Yeah, and calm down too, don’t want to spook him looking like you just left a crack house.”

 George looked over to the wall mirror, he did look frantic, definitely not first date with Ringo material. His eyes were wide, his hair was unruled, and he was nearly shaking. John had a point. This date was way too important, he can’t ruin it by being this nervous.

 George just needed to get ready and hope that he doesn’t make a fool of himself.

 Good luck with that.

 _______________

 Paul had George cleaned up real nice. Black drainies, and one of Paul’s clean white shirts tucked in made George cut a fine figure. Topped off with a large smooth pompadour. Very handsome and slim. Paul was very proud of the simple, yet refined appearance he made up for George’s date. He was a good looking lad all the same, and those fangs that pointed when he smiled had to be a deal breaker. Had he had more time (and spare cash), he almost wanted to go buy him a new fit to really shock Ringo. But- the look was still perfect in Paul’s opinion, but John was insistent he add his own little flare to the mix.

 “Make you look tougher, like on stage.”

 “He’s not going on stage John, he’s going on a date-”

 “Yes, and he’s going to wear the damn jacket!” John argued. Draping a leather jacket on George’s shoulders. He took a much larger role in the getting ready process then was expected. He and Paul fussed left and right over how George needed to look, what shirt, how to wear it, what to say, make his hair messy or clean. Boots or loafers. Smile or brood. The two just couldn’t agree.

 As per usual.

 “George needs this date to go off without a hitch! Who knows? If they go steady, we might get a new drummer.” John winked.

 Last week the lads had to get a replacement drummer to sit in after Pete hauled ass back to Liverpool for some kind of “family emergency”. John seems to think George’s date with Ringo could be an opportunity… Ringo was considered the best drummer as far as Liverpool was concerned, and despite George agreeing that Ringo was 20 times better than Pete, he didn’t like what John was implying. Paul seemed to catch onto it quicker than George was though.

“Oh no no NO, you’re not making George’s date about your little fued with Rory! That’s none of your business.” Paul chided, seeing through John’s casual tone. He knew that face and twinkle in his eyes. He was scheming, and John Lennon’s schemes never ended well.

 “I’m just saying, you can’t date between competing bands. If Geo plays his cards right-”

 George had heard enough, he wasn’t letting this crazy idea get to his head. He wanted to enjoy his date, not be John’s pon.

 He was about to speak up when suddenly a loud knock at the back door silenced the whole room.

 George looked at the door and felt his palms clam up. He shuffled his feet toward the handle. He thought he was going to pass out. This wasn’t even his first date, but it was his first with Ringo, and somehow that made it all the more important.

 Another, more faint knock, hit the door, making George jump back slightly. Is that him? Is he here? Gosh if it’s not him-

 “Don't just stand there! Open it.” Paul whispered, clearly waiting in anticipation.

 When George gathered up his non existent courage and opened the door up, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor…

 If he thought seeing Ringo up on stage, was in itself eye-catching, he was grossly unprepared for when he cleans up for a date.

 Ringo was standing at the door, looking a bit flustered, but non the less pleased to see George. That smile. George thought he might lose his footing had he not been gripping the door frame. He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He wanted to drape an arm around Ringo’s shoulders and admire how handsome he looked. He was stunning, he was sporting nice fitted charcoal trousers, with a white and black checker striped shirt tucked in. He even topped it off with a black corduroy jacket.

 “Hmm... now that’s what I call boyfriend material.” Paul muttered behind George, who was also admiring Ringo’s attire.

 George barely registered what Paul said until Ringo finally spoke.

 “Gosh, I’m- speechless, you look real handsome George.” Ringo gaped while he shuffled his hands out of his pockets.

The two were both clearly nervous, and George just couldn’t even believe Ringo was really here. Last night had felt too much like a dream to be real, but… it was and he was here and-

 “Whoa there Ringo! You got on this fancy get up for our little Geo?”

 Fucking. Hell. John.

 Ringo let out a nervous laugh “Suppose�� so,  not too fancy I hope. Havn’t got too much money for a proper restaurant...” Ringo scratched the back of his neck. He seemed a little embarrassed, but George was pretty relieved. He wasn’t into fancy smacy places like that anyhow.

 But- he was into getting out of here with Ringo as soon as possible before John kept talking. Which was the perfect incentive to push his nerves away for a bit.

 “WELL- Guess will be going then! See ya fellas!” George was already walking down the steps and quickly leading Ringo away before those two ruined the date before it even starts.  

 “You better have him home at a respectable time young man!!!” John yelled out after them which made George cringe. Gosh those two I swear-

 George ran a hand up his hair. “Sorry about them, they’re a piece of work.”

 Ringo snickered, “Funny though, don’t worry, bet they pick on ya’ too much huh?”

 “You don’t know the half of it.”

 George and Ringo were walking down Grosse Freiheit, opposite corner from the KaiserKeller where they worked and typically spent their time. George hadn’t explored much of this side of town, but it seemed Ringo knew where they were going, so he didn’t mind it.

 It was nearly 3 in the afternoon, so most places had slow business. Once it neared about 5, that’s when most of the sailor, drunkards, and “fast women” slipped out for the nightlife. Despite the occasional peek of a prostitute in the day, most afternoons were strangely quiet considering this was a red light district.

 When George arrived in Hamburg, the idea of living in such loose city, with so much sex and alcohol seemed exciting, but other than the advantage of drinking, George wasn’t too into the easy sex. John and Paul tried to set him up once, but he ended up horrified, having not been with a women and being pretty certain he was gay at that point. That only solidified it. He ended up sending her away, she didn’t seem to bothered by it. Probably just looked like a spooked young boy.

 Paul stuck around to apologize about it. Make sure he was okay. If anything George was almost happy to know he didn’t fancy girls. John and Paul were always so defensive about it, but when George was having thoughts like that- it felt comforting to know his friends were the same way. That they could understand.

 George saw Ringo veering toward the right. They must be close. The walkway was definitely in more uncharted territory, but- a little more secluded. Ringo reached out his hand suddenly, and George hesitated. Sure there wasn’t anyone around, and the area didn’t persecute lads holding hands, but- it was still out in public, and George didn’t quite feel comfortable for that just yet.

 Ringo’s smile softened and he lowered his hand into his trouser pocket. “No worries Georgie, the place is right back here, follow me.”

 George walked with Ringo down a narrow alleyway leading to a wooden doorway on the side of the building. Already regretting not taking Ringo’s hand, but certainly thankful Richie wasn’t offended by his apprehension.

  A quick knock on the door, and it was soon opened up by another fellow. Clean looking boy with rosy cheeks and a slender chin, about Paul’s age or older maybe.

 “Afternoon Richard, back again so soon?” The boy smiled, clearly pleased to see Richard here. Where- wherever they were. George felt his arms tense, hoping he wasn’t already feeling jealousy on the date that’s barely started. “Where’s your tall friend?” He continued, while giving George a disappointed side glare.

 “Afternoon! Awe this isn’t much his scene really, he’s more interested in birds.” Ringo looked past the boy, and pointed over his shoulder to a booth past the bar-room.

 “Mind if we have a seat over that way?” Before the boy could give answer Ringo was already sliding through the doorway with George in tow.

 Now standing inside, George could really get a load of the place. It was definitely a bar, but why it was so hidden away was beyond him. It played great music out of some speakers, which seemed to be connected to the local radio. It was pretty full too, especially for this hour, but no one seemed to be very rowdy, mostly just dancing or a having a nice drink.

 One thing that did catch Georges eye was the clientele. Every person inside was a bloke. Not a single girl in sight. 

 “Ringo? Is- is this a gay bar?”

 Ringo stopped in front of the booth and looked back at George shyly.

 “I- yes, it’s pretty classy, but I wasn’t sure, you know? If you’d been to one before.” George tilted his head, in all honesty he had never seen one before now. It just seemed like they were myths considering how well hidden they were. Not to mention John, Paul, and George never played in gar bars, or expressed interest in one before. Though, Ringo’s logic made sense, why not go to a place that’s guaranteed to be safe for a first date. Not having to watch your back if he wanted to hold Ringo’s hand or maybe share a kiss.

 “I’m… I haven't, but I really like it here, seems like a perfect first date spot to me.” George smiled, sliding into the booth.

 The date started out really great. Ringo was even more adorable on dates. He ordered them both some drinks and they sipped away talking. It felt like they spoke for hours on end. Ringo was so fun to talk to, he was cute and much more cheeky than expected. He had the cutest little blush when George decided to move over to Ringo’s side and sit beside him in the booth. Letting his shoulder graze next to each other.

 The topic of how they ended up in Hamburg came up, and George talked about meeting John and Paul, and about how they let him join the band. The band that feels like his family, like he was always meant to be apart of them. He told Ringo stories and pranks they all pulled on each other, and about how he practically had to knock sense into them both about their feelings for each other.

 “They were fighting like mad all the time. Mostly John, pushing Paul away n’stuff.”

 Ringo listened attentively, “You could tell? That they were… pushing each other?”

 “Definitely, those two were inseparable, and the way John looked at Paul and the way Paul looked at John- you knew. I knew for sure. John had hurt Paul real bad one day, said he didn’t need him around anymore. Paul was devastated.  I had to talk with John and get it sorted out.”

 “How’d that go?”

 “Basically told him to get his shit together and tell Paul how he felt. Honestly, I’m surprised the bastard listened.” George laughed letting his little pointed teeth stick out a tad.

 “So… how long have you known… you um.. fancied...” Ringo paused, trying to find the right words for the question, but George had a feeling he knew.

 “A couple years now… I had a couple girlfriends back in Liverpool, but it never really took. I knew I fancied boys, but I didn’t know for sure if I fancied girls too or not. Nowadays, I know I’m gay, but I’ve-” George paused feeling embarrassment flush on his face. He almost wanted to end the conversation there, hoping Ringo wouldn't push him further, but the look in those blue eyes. The soft, sweet way Ringo listened and gazed back at George. Like he was savoring everything, every look and word George gave him.

George wasn’t afraid, no, not around Ringo.

 “I-um… I haven’t had a boyfriend before.”

 George felt his hand shake at his sides, feeling unsure… clearly Ringo had been around more often, he was older after all, and knew about gay bars, probably had a boyfriend once or twice too. George didn’t know this stuff, he’d only ever kissed a boy once and neither spoke about it after the fact. Would Ringo want some inexperienced lad who-

 George felt a sudden warmth interlock with his shaking fingertips. He moved his gaze back to Ringo. He was holding onto his hands, rubbing his thumb over each knuckle. Smoothing the tremor that left the joint until they were steady and calm. 

 I might faint.

 “Hey, neither have I okay? I’m still new to this too, but I know I like you George. A lot.”

 George blinked wildly. Ringo was new to this?

 Ringo could see George’s confusion considering their current place of establishment and chuckled. “I’ve known I am for awhile, me mum even had an idea about it when I was younger, she could just tell I never fancied girls, but finding fellas ain’t easy and not exactly safe. So no, I haven’t either. Did find this place with me mate Johnny though, but he’s just a best mate, doesn’t really swing that way.”

 Somehow knowing dates and boyfriends were a bit of new territory for Ringo brought George lots of comfort. He could feel his shoulders slack under his jacket. He wanted to loosen up, really just enjoy the date. Show Ringo a good time.

 Hurriedly, George stood up from the booth pulling Ringo up with him. The radio had several patrons out of their seats and swinging to a solid tune. A jazzy one, clearly hitting the backbeat like a rock n’ roller. George gave Ritchie a cocky grin and twisted his arm around giving Ringo a spin. George did little kicks and fancy moves with his feet, while Ringo showed off his funny little moves on the dance floor as well. Being honest, Ringo’s dances were outright ridiculous, but- in an endearing kind of way. He was silly and smiling so wide. Really enjoying himself when he danced with George and purposely tried to make him laugh with funky jumps and head shakes. George loved how funny Ringo was, the way he could just go along with things and make it 10 times better? The way his smile peeked out when those teddy boy curls bounced on his forehead, George was ready to spend the rest of the night like this. Giggling like school boys.

 As it got later, the dancing got a little too crowded for both the boys’ taste, and they decided to step out for the night. The walk was much longer going back, probably because the two weren’t quite ready for the date to be over just yet.

 “You really do look handsome this evening George.” Ringo remarked as they walked the chilly street back to the cinema.

 George grinned with his cheeky fangs and bumped Ringo with his arm. “How bout’ a kiss then? Paul worked real hard to get me all dressed up like this. Got to have a little credit where credits due.” George leaned into the lads shoulder, batting his eyelashes for dramatic effect.

 Ringo applauded the flirtation, clearly George was getting more comfortable. Very coy.

 “Sorry, I don’t kiss vamps on the first date.”He quipped, poking the side of George’s cheek playfully.

 Had this not been their first date George would have half a mind to marry Ringo on the spot. The way they bounced off each other so easily was unbelievable. The only fault was that the date was ending so soon. The streets here are just so complicated and… adult. Nothing simple, like burger joints or parks. George hated the idea of only being able to go out in the afternoons. Nightlife here was just so loud and indecent. “Gosh, maybe one of these days we can catch a bus out of here, go somewhere a little more normal.” George said gazing out ahead at countless street lights that dawned every corner.

 Ringo’s eyes widened. “You want to go out again then?”

 George felt his throat shrink. Oh fuck- You idiot. He was already daydreaming about the next date without even knowing if there was going to BE ONE.

 “If- you wanted. I thought- I mean. This one seemed to be going really well, but if your not interested I completely-” stop rambling please oh god please stop.

 “George!” George thanked Ringo internally for stopping him before he dug his grave even further.

 “I’d love to go on another date with you.’

 George thought he was going to say something, but his brain decided to go out of commission in that moment. Ringo didn’t seem to mind, the look on George’s face told him everything he needed to know. This was special. This thing between them, very special.

 It was quiet on the streets surprisingly. Not a prostitute or drunk in sight near the back of the cinema. It was nearly 9:30, which was hopefully “respectable” for John, but George wasn’t ready for it to be over, not just yet.

 George stopped before the steps to the door and turned to Ringo. His nerves that had been present throughout the evening had vanished, something about how he was feeling, the look in Ringo’s eyes. He felt like he was staring into the ocean. So welcoming, and vibrant. How could he stand here and not be utterly at peace?

 Ringo soon moved surprisingly close him. George wasn’t sure what it meant at first, but to be fair, there were lots of things that George didn’t know.

 He didn’t know his lovestruck crush would stand before him tonight and gingerly touch his cheek, or that he’d get so close they’d share a cold breath in a Hamburg alleyway. George would never have thought months ago, when he first met the boy, that he too would lean into the embrace. That George would get to wrap his arms around Ringo’s waist, slipping past his jacket and rest his palms on the small of the drummer’s back. He didn’t know that they’d glace down to those soft lips. Unconsciously waiting… for what? He wasn’t quite sure. Yes, he was.

 Ringo’s hand gilded behind his neck. Stroking his thumb gently under George’s jaw. George felt a shiver go up his spine. Feeling his heart pounding like crazy. He wanted this. He really did. All night he dreamt of the event that occurred that night, about the feeling of kissing Ringo, the way his lips felt on his. He was so close to that again, only this time, he wanted Ringo to kiss him. 

 The drummer hesitated. They had kissed before, but the fervor in the air that filled the non existent space between them was thick. Both of the boys breaths were seen in the cold air as they exchanged them. Ringo lids fluttered, and George let his own shut. Darkness allowing every touch and caress to feel all the more real. Abruptly, a hand tugged the collar of his leather jacket slightly, and he was pulled into those lips again. Both bodies immediately reacting as the two shared an earnest kiss. Ringo taking control with impelling affection.

 It was delightful but chaste, far too short for the guitarist’s liking. When they separated a moment, George barely gave Ringo time to catch his breath before pressing forward and allowing his tongue to slide past his lips. His fleeting impulse crashed into Ringo, and his hands clenched at the fabric of his striped shirt.  Ringo responded with matched eagerness and the two were soon both kissing with more passion than they’d ever felt before. George even let a soft moan slide past his lips as he felt Ringo tangle his fingers further into his hair.

 Neither wanted to stop, but George’s head was already getting dizzy and Ringo’s footing was starting to give way on the edge of the steps. They both reluctantly separated, and caught their breaths still not bearing any space between them, chests heaving with cold air against one another. George just wanted to stay here with Ringo in his arms, barely able to stand and looking just as dazed as George probably does.

 “Gee Ringo…” George’s lip twitch upward. “I thought you didn’t kiss vamps on the first date.”

Chapter 3 here!

[menshusband]

little au and yet another vennntt

Ted, Emma and the others agree to leave after noting Hidgens isn’t the most safe person to go to during an apocalypse, so i remain with him only. they’re my friends and care about me, but they also want to survive. uh, i live with Henry, but i’m ‘saner’.. let’s just say i haven’t theorised this exact scenario 30 years ago. also everyone survives the apotheosis because they all deserve it. [TW swearing, mention of blood]

just wanted to say ive had this in my drafts for a month or so and worked a lot on this to feel better, so it’s..... product of different days. feel free not to read.

i was desperate. where the fuck was he??

not only was i upset because my friends decided to leave, but nervous too because he had been gone for about an hour, and now i was alone.

he said he’d be right back. he went to “check a thing”, taking his rifle with him. now you tell me what the fuck you check in a goddamn apocalypse.

glancing at the clock for the fifth time in one minute, i decided; i couldn’t wait any longer. i grabbed the gun he gave me and speedwalked to the door.

as soon as i placed my hand on the doorknob, though, it clicked open. behind the door was a panting, slightly-covered-of-probably-not-just-his-blood-and-blue-shit Henry, holding his rifle over his shoulder.

he looked down at me with sort of a sad expression. i was completely shocked, mouth open, but i managed to step aside to let him in, blinking a couple of times while shutting the door in case my mind was playing some trick on me. it wasn’t the case, though. he was there, he was back.

as i was processing and realising the truth, he laid his weapon on the table, keeping his eyes on me. he must have noticed something was wrong. by the time he started walking back to me, i teared up.

i marched to him, not even seeing where i was going, gripped his turtleneck from the front and calmly stated to his bloody face

“DONT YOU DARE DISAPPEAR LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN, HENRY HIDGENS”

my voice cracked mid-sentence. i then proceeded to embarrassingly cry in his chest, never letting go of his shirt as if he was about to run away.

he had a rather confused expression, but it slowly turned into a guilty one. perhaps because he had just realised how long he had been missing, or maybe how many times he didn’t show affection back.

whatever was the cause of that sensation, it made him feel like he had to do something. it aways broke his heart to see me like this.

he brought one hand up and gently placed it on my cheek streaked with tears, wiping them away with his thumb. i opened my eyes at the feeling, immediately calming down a bit. i looked up at him and met an unusual expression on his face. he pulled me closer by wrapping the other arm behind my back. keeping staring into my eyes, he started inching closer, until his lips softly placed on mine.

i was extremely surprised, but in a positive way. he’d never started a sign of affection on his own. still, it was amazing. because i could feel how sincere this kiss was.

when we parted, he rested his forehead on mine and went back to staring into my eyes, slightly making me blush.

“... forgive me. please.” he whispered against my lips, and i melted. i had never heard him more honest and.. different. it almost looked like he wasn’t the usual insane biology professor.

i briefly sighed, still shaking a bit. “it’s- it’s okay. it’s okay, Henry, i- i shouldn’t react that way.” he shaked his head ever so slightly. “no, not only about this time. forgive me for all i have and have not done, and for my future mistakes. i’m a terrible lover, i know. but you make me feel one positive emotion i didn’t think i could ever feel again, and it’s become essential for my existence. you have become necessary to me, Starr. your happiness is now the reason to my own. so please, forgive me.”

i was speechless. i managed to slightly nod and whisper “i forgive you, Henry. it’s alright.” he smiled wider than i’ve ever seen him do. it wasn’t one of his mischievous smirks. it was a simple, loving, true smile. and i loved it.

[writingamongtheroses-archive]

Happy STS from your moral support dragon!! If you have the time, I would like to see an interaction between just a couple of your characters, take that as you will wether something you’ve already written or a chance to explore how some of your characters would interact. Have a wonderful day!!

Here’s some freshly dead Mabel and Beast!

“You’re awake.”

Mabel froze at the voice. She was suddenly keenly aware of where she was, what she had done, and who was talking to her. A fresh round of tears formed in her eyes.

“Look at me.”

She screwed her eyes shut and shook her head. She didn’t dare turn around. She wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready to start the stupid deal she had just died to keep. It was too much, too soon.

“I said...LOOK AT ME.”

Two gnarled hands gripped her shoulders and yanked her around. Mabel jerked her head away, but the Beast gripped her chin and yanked it up. She tried to keep her eyes shut, ignoring the tears spilling down her cheeks. She tried to push the arms away, but he was too strong. A choked sob escaped her.

“If you think this display of cowardice will save you from the fate you arranged, you are very wrong.”

She shook her head, finally opening her eyes. “Please…” The glowing eyes of the Beast stared down at her. “I...I-I’m not...ready…”

“Oh?” He backed her up until her back hit the tree. “You seemed ready before. Would you have preferred if I had simply left you to watch your brother become a tree? I had planned on it.” His grip on her chin tightened, forcing a grunt out. “The oil from you two would’ve kept me lit for an entire year.” He lowered so they were eye to eye. “Spoiled child- I let you take your brother home. I let you sleep out the storm. I picked out a tree for you. I even have your equipment.”

“Equipment…?”

He stood tall again, forcing her head to look to the right. Among the roots of the Candle, the lantern lit the Woodcutter’s pack and his ax.

“Did you steal those?”

“They were actually here already.”

“But why-”

Realization struck her. Her hands twitched against the wood of the tree.

The tree she had just-

With a cry, she wrestled herself free and fell to the ground. The Beast watched in silent amusement as she threw up, emptying her stomach to the snow. After two minutes of dry heaving, she turned to him. “You had me-”

“Would you have preferred a snow bank?”

Mabel kneeled, not wanting to give the Beast any satisfaction of watching her face crumble. There had been many, many times the Woodcutter had tried to help her and Lennox escape the Beast. Even after they accidentally destroyed his mill, he kept watching over them. He had tried to steer them right, tried to prevent them from wandering into the Beast’s hands.

All that effort, and he had turned into the thing he had been cutting down for years.

“You’ve been grinding up lost souls for years!”

“I didn’t know! I didn’t know what they were!”

He hadn’t even known.

She looked back up and glared. “I’m not cutting down his tree.”

“You make it sound like you’ll be doing him a favor.”

“He wouldn’t want this. I’m not going to just feed him to your lantern.”

He ran a hand over the bark of the tree, looking almost bored. The hand stopped shy of a few small branches. “Given time, I believe you’ll be as eager as I am to use him.” With that and an oily snap, he ripped the branches off.

“STOP THAT! What do you mean, as eager?”

He loomed over her like a vulture. “The Woodcutter believed that his beloved wife lived within the lantern, so there was no questioning his loyalty to keeping it lit. You, on the other hand…” His free hand reached out, tracing her cheek. She flinched away. “Too smart for that little trick to work. I needed something else.”

“We already made a deal.”

He picked up the lantern. “Trust is something earned. I frankly don’t trust you to not neglect the lantern without the right persuasion. Yet.” His finger tapped on the glass. “It only takes a few drops of blood to bind you.”

“Blood?” Memory hit her. Mabel pulled up her sleeve to stare at the gash. Then she glanced back at the Beast. “What did you do?!”

“Calm down,” he chuckled. “You know as well as I that I cannot put souls inside the lantern. I can, however, bind you to it, for a little while.” He held the lantern closer. “When it runs low, you will feel it. You will hate it. When you feed it, however, it will go away.”

She glanced at the light. “How long will that last?”

“Long enough.”

Mabel sighed, honestly not surprised. Even with a deal hanging over her head, she didn’t think she could go through this. But what choice did she have? She stood up straight. “At least let me look for a different Candle.”

“Fair enough.” He set the torn branches next to the pack and then stood up straight. He regarded the girl, holding the lantern tight. “Come here.”

She took a cautious step towards the Beast, staring up at him. He stared back. It was a hard stare, but difficult to read. There was only so much you could get from glowing orbs.

Wordlessly, he held the lantern out.

She paused.

...And took it.

@scarlotte, @andiwriteunderthemoon, @shattered-starrs

[viktory-arts]

But It's a Really Long Song Chapter 3: Mayu Ito, Jaqueline Kimiki, and Lizzy Phenton

The thump thump thump of the basketball hitting the floor as Mayu held her hand up for her follow-through, sweat beading down her pale face, sounded like magic to her ears. She smiled brightly into the fluorescent lights above. She put her arm down when she heard the gym door open, turning to look at the source of the movement. 

Lizzy Phenton, the talk of the school, walked through, angry expression and bad attitude in tow. 

Mayu was surprised, to say the least when she saw the small girl making her way towards her, Lizzy’s fists clenched tightly, her steps faint, even against the echoing of the gym’s roominess. 

Jaqueline, having seen the girl walking in, looked to Mayu, a question in her bright green eyes. “Do you need help?” Mayu locked gazes with her for a second, but then decidedly shook her head “No”.

“How can I help you, Ms. Phenton?” Mayu said to the freshmen when she got close enough for a comfortable talking distance. Lizzy mumbled, her already tightly clenched fists tightening even more than before. Mayu was a little nervous that Lizzy would cause her hands to bleed if she kept that up.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.” Mayu requested kindly, hoping for the girl not to take offense to her poor hearing, even if it was Lizzy’s fault for talking so quietly.

“Mr. MacNamara said I needed to join a- an extracurricular.” She paused, and Mayu gave her a look with a gentle “go-on” look about it. “So I decided basketball.” She trailed off at the end, and it dawned on Mayu.

She’s nervous.

Mayu, now with this revelation, smiles softly at the young girl before her, and nods slightly.

“Alright. We start next Wednesday, the 28th.” Lizzy looked a little lost at the sudden acceptance of her being on the team. She then put on her normal expression, one of cool aloofness, with the corners of her lips and her eyebrows dipped-down slightly.

“W-What-” Lizzy cut herself off, blushing slightly at her stuttering and her face goes a little angrier than before, no doubt frustrated with herself. Mayu merely waited patiently, hoping that being quiet would help more than pressuring her to answer by prompting her.

“What do I n-need to bring to practice?” She asked softly and quietly. Mayu thought for a moment.

“Well, you’ll need basketball shoes, sports clothes, basketball socks, a water bottle…” Lizzy waited quietly as she waited for Mayu to finish her thought, beginning to chew on the inside of her cheek while she did wait. She hated talking to people, especially when they got all quiet and left a huge silence. She never knew if she was supposed to fill it or not? Is that what you’re supposed to do?

“...Hey, are you listening?” Mayu asked with a concerned look on her face. Lizzy snapped out of her thoughts and blushed profusely, glaring down at the floor. What does she do now? It was so rude of her not to listen! What is she supposed to do? She can’t say she wasn’t paying attention! What…

While Lizzy was working herself up into quite the tizzy, Mayu looked at the girl, and saw her chest heaving up and down a little bit more than normal, her breaths coming short and quick. Mayu immediately realized what was going on and began to talk quietly to the girl.

“Hey, it’s alright. No harm done, yeah?” She said and Lizzy whipped her head up from glaring at the ground to glaring at her. Mayu had to admit, Lizzy could put on quite the mean face if she wanted to, if it wasn’t for her eyes that were sparkling in frustration, and tears welling up at the edges of her dark blue eyes. 

“Hey, calm down, it’s alright Lizzy. I’ll just repeat what I said, okay?” Mayu spoke calmly to the silently freaking out girl. “It’s no big, don’t sweat it.” Lizzy’s guarded look was back full force, and her breathing seemed to be back under control.

Mayu cleared her throat and repeated what she said, going over to her bag as she did so, Lizzy tailing not very far behind.

“You’ll need to have one of your parents sign this permission slip, do a physical, and pay the pay-to-play fee.” Mayu said and handed Lizzy the papers. 

“You can get a physical at the school for free on the 26th. Just make sure you hand me or Coach Seaburg the physical before the 28th, otherwise you can’t play until you get it in.” Lizzy nodded and sorted through the papers with a careful eye. She then nodded her head again, probably in affirmation.

“Thank you.” Lizzy quietly mumbled, and turned around to the big gym doors and exited, letting the weighted door close silently behind her. Jaqueline, who had been practicing shooting up until now, walked her way over to Mayu and gave her a questioning look.

“What’d Phenton want?” She asked, though Mayu was sure that she had been eavesdropping on them. Mayu shrugged.

“Mr. MacNamara wanted her to join an extracurricular, so she chose the basketball team.” Mayu said simply and jogged lightly over to her forgotten ball on the floor, picking it up and dribbling it lazy as she stalked back over to a lost-in-thought Jaqueline.

“Hmm, I’ve heard some rumors that Phenton and Goings don’t get along real well.” She gave Starr a look. “That could cause a lotta problems.” Jaqueline turned to the basket again and set up to shoot. It bounced off the rim slightly, and fell to the floor with a resounding thud.

“Personally, I’m not too fond of the girl either. The few times I’ve seen ‘er she’s been yellin’ at something or other, or not payin’ attention in class.” Jaqueline paused. “‘Course, I don’t know the girl all that well, so I can’t be certain of ‘er.” Mayu sighed and went over to pick up the ball that Jaqueline had just shot. She passed the ball back to Jaqueline, who responded with a quick “thank you”.

“Want my opinion?” Mayu asked, and Jaqueline nodded with a small “‘Course.” 

“I think that Lizzy just has a rough life. Plain and simple.” Jaqueline moved her mouth to interrupt, but Mayu held a pale hand up in response. “It doesn’t excuse her actions, especially for yelling and getting pissy with those who don’t deserve it. But,” Mayu paused, “if you would’ve seen her a minute ago, I think you’d be on the same page as me. I think her anger is just misinterpreted.” Jaqueline raised one thick black eyebrow and her deep brown eyes asked the question for her.

“She was really anxious when she was talking to me. She got really mad at herself when she messed up a couple words.” Jaqueline opened her mouth into a tiny “o”, getting what Mayu was saying.

“So yer sayin’ that Phenton’s probably just anxious, an’ that’s why she’s so pissy all o’ the time?” Jaqueline said and Mayu nodded and smiled. 

“Yeah, but,” Mayu sighed, “she always could just be a jerk anyways. That was the first time I’ve talked to her, after all.” Jaqueline shrugged and shot the ball again, this time it made it with a gentle swoosh of the net.

“Guess we’ll find out next Wednesday.” Jaqueline said simply and Mayu smiled and nodded.

“Suppose you’re right.” She ran to the ball cart, unaware of the watchful eyes of Lizzy Phenton watching the two girls from the small crack in the door. As Mayu ran forwards to grab another ball, Lizzy shut it gently and speed-walked away from the gym for real this time.

Mayu thought she saw the door move, but when it didn’t for another second, she shrugged it off and went to pick up another basketball, not thinking anything of the slightly-weird occurrence. 

[tessxomarie]

Saving You - Part Thirteen

*Here it is, finally an update (ha-ha). Thank you all for being so patient, and I hope your enjoy the next installment of Saving You!*

Angel and Coco take Kendra and I back to Angel’s.

The rest of the club headed out on the manhunt for Erik.

The car ride to Angel’s was silent. I feel like the emotional rollercoaster of the last day have caught up with me.

Kendra has held my hand the entire ride, I know she would want me to talk but she also knows that silence is okay. She never forces the issue, she lets her actions speak up.

Once we arrive back at Angel’s, I remain mute. We enter through the front door and I make a B Line for the couch.

“Are you girls hungry? One of us can go up to corner diner and grab something?” Coco asks.

I remain in a daze, staring blankly at the chair across from me. I feel Kendra’s hand on top of my bandaged one.

“Food sounds great, we all need to eat. Umm, how about two BLT’s and two fries? And a chocolate shake for Lee.” Kendra replies to Coco, and when she says chocolate shake, I snap out of my daze – chocolate anything makes me happy.

“Chocolate shake?” I repeat looking at Kendra, and she busts out a laugh.

“There’s my Lee, my chocolate obsessed Lee. Boys are going to get us food, we are staying put.” She explains.

I look at Angel and Coco, who are staring at me intently.

“Leaving us alone? No. We can’t be alone, Kendra.” I state as I begin to stand up but quickly sit back down as I feel a head rush.

Both guys rush to my aide.

“Leah, babe, you need to take it easy. You also need to eat. Coco will stand guard outside while I’m gone. I’ll only be a few minutes.” Angel assures me as he looks me in the eye, but I feel so unsettled his voice sounds faded.

I simply nod as I try to get it together.

Angel departs, but not before another forehead kiss is given.

“Do you want to talk?” Kendra asks as soon as Angel’s bike roars down the driveway.

“Talk about what?” I retort.

“Everything? Anything? Lee, it’s been quite the day. I know you’ve talked a lot between last night and this morning, but I know you’re a second away from just shutting down.”

Kendra is right, she’s always right.

I take a deep breath and run my hands through my hair, “How the fuck did I end up here, Kenz? Like, why did Erik prey on me? Why did he have to rape me not once, but twice? Why did he have to go terrorize my apartment? I don’t have a safe haven right now, I have a bunch of bikers serving as security. Like, how? Why? I’m supposed to be the one saving and helping people, I’m not supposed to be saved.” I ramble.

Kendra pulls me in for a hug.

“Shh, Lee. Breathe, babes. Breathe for me.” She tells me as I just start to unravel in her lap.

“Aleeah Starr Parker.” Kendra beings, “You deserved to be saved. I hate to break it to you, but none of us are immune from fuckery. I wish you were though. I promise, I’m going to do everything I can in my fucking power to assure you will always be safe. You didn’t deserve any of this. Please know that you are loved, Lee. We love you so much, and we’ll do whatever it takes to protect you – no matter what.” Kendra tells me as she pets my hair, helping me calm down.

It does the trick, because Kendra means everything she says and keeps her word.

I know her head has to be spinning just as much as mine is.

I sit back up and wipe my eyes and try to collect myself. I look at Kendra and she has tears in her eyes.

“What do I do next, Kenz? How do I start to move forward? I can’t go home, I can’t work right now – I’m a fucking hot mess.” I explain as Kendra rubs my back.

“Well first thing is first, we’re going to eat. After that, how about you lie down and sleep? I’ll have Coco take me to your place, I can try and clean up what I can. Then, we’ll wait to hear from Bishop, okay? One task at a time Lee-Lee.”

I nod my head in agreement.

“One task at a time, if only it was as easy as it sounds.” I say as I slowly get up and I make my way to the bathroom for a simple moment of peace and quiet, and solidarity.

I let the water run, and I rub some water along my face. I look myself in the mirror and it may sound weird, but I rarely recognize myself.

If it’s possible, I’m paler than usual. My eyes, there is no sign of life staring back at me. My body is telling me I’ve been through the ringer.

I then look down at my wrist, my bandaged wrist.

I can’t ignore it.

I did this to myself…

I’m not trying to downplay any of this. What happened, it’s fucking horrifying. How I coped with it, even more terrifying.

I continue to stare at my wrist, and I can’t help but take the bandage off and I see my newest scar.

I know I shouldn’t have taken the bandage off, but it’s like my body acted before my thought process was complete.

Before I can touch my scar, there’s a knock at the door.

“Lee, you alright? You’ve been in here for like ten minutes.” Kendra asks.

I shake my head to refocus, I open the door and Kendra breathes a sigh of relief but then looks down at my now naked yet injured wrist.

“Aleeah, why is the bandage off?” She asks with worry.

I shrug my shoulders as I truly do not know what I just did.

“We need to cover that back up, babes. It’s still fresh.” Kendra says, and I spit back with sass, “So is this entire event…shit, sorry Kenz.” I bite, regretting my words and tone instantly.

“Lee, I get it. But as your nurse, this shit needs to be properly covered for another day or so.” Kendra states as I walk over and sit on the toilet as she searches for proper bandages in Angel’s bathroom.

I guess the one good thing is that thanks to Angel’s extra curricular gang activity…he’s well stocked in medical supplies.

Kendra wraps my wrist in silence, but it’s a comfortable silence. She gently squeezes my hand when she’s done. Just as she does that, we hear Coco and Angel come in the front door.

“Food is here!” Angel announces.

Kendra leads me out of the bathroom, and we emerge into the kitchen.

“Leah, you alright babe?” Angel asks with worry as he sees Kendra holding my hand.

“I will be.” I quietly say.

Kenz and I eat quietly as the boys head back outside to smoke and probably to come up with their own plan on how they want to handle Erik. “I’m glad you ate. You needed to, because a bagel doesn’t really count as a meal.” Kendra says with a smirk.

“Ha ha.” I sarcastically say as I finish the last bite of my BLT.

Before we know it, the boys reenter the house.

“Coco, you’re taking me to Leah’s apartment. We are going to clean up what we can, and start packing up shit.” Kendra demands.

Angel and Coco both look at us with confused looks. “Packing up shit?” Coco questions.

I haven’t even begin to think of where I’ll be calling home again, but all I know is that I will never go back to that apartment.

“I’m not staying in that apartment ever again. I know Erik is going to be handled, but he fucking invaded my safe haven, I will never feel comfortable there. Kendra is doing the right thing, please just help her with what you can.” I plead.

“You got it Lee, baby. I’ll call up Gilly and Chucky, maybe Letty too. We’ll get shit straightened up in a blink.” Coco assures me.

“I’m ready if you are, Coco.” Kendra says.

Coco nods his head, and Kendra gives me a hug as she takes my keys to my Jeep and they leave the house shortly after.

Angel stands in the kitchen as I remain at the table.

“Where are you going to stay if you’re not in that apartment?” He asks out of curiosity.

I shrug my shoulders, “Maybe with Kendra for a hot second, until I can find somewhere else. Maybe a house even. I’m going to need a fresh start in the worst way.” I admit.

Angel just nods his head as if he agrees with what I’ve said.

“Do you mind if I go lay down for a little?” I ask.

“Of course, babe. Go get some rest. I just need to finish this one thing with my bike, but I’ll come check on you in a little bit.”

I go into Angel’s room and situate myself in his bed yet again.

It feels so natural, to be in his bed.

I see the shirt I wore to bed last night laying on his bed; I pick it up and hold it to me, just for a moment of comfort. If Angel can’t lay next to me right now, at least I have something of his to help me settle down.

I hear the faint noise of some classic rock being played outside on the radio, and I laugh as I find some comfort in that genre. I drift off to sleep for what I think is a day, but when Angel checks on me, I’m made aware it has only been 45 minutes.

He didn’t mean to wake me, but he did. I could feel his presence and he came in his room to change his shirt as the other one had been covered in dirt and grease.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He says as he slips his dirty shirt off.

I’m a little groggy, but when he’s standing there shirtless, I quickly get it together.

So many tattoos. So much…Angel. Like, what?

As I’m taking the view in, I scan his body as I never looked at Angel in this kind of way.

That’s when I see his scar on his abdomen, from a few weeks ago.

He catches my gaze at his stomach and he tries to cover it up.

“No, Angel. I mean, please, don’t hide it. Do you mind if I see it?” I ask, motioning for him to come to the bed.

He reluctantly obliges, and I reach my hand out to his stomach, by his scar. He takes a small step back, and I see goosebumps form.

I look up in his eyes, and even from this viewpoint, he is as tall as a tree.

“It’s healing nicely. That makes me happy.” I softly say.

Angel nods in agreement.

“Can I ask you something else?” I ask.

“Go for it.” He says.

“Who did that to you? Who would want to hurt you? Is it wrong for me to think Adelita had a hand in this?” I ask, because ever since that night – I did wonder if Adelita did that as a strategic move.

Angel runs his hand over his face as he now sits next to me on the bed.

“I do know who did this to me.” He starts out.

He takes another breath and grabs my bandaged hand.

“And part of me believes you know who had a hand in this too.” He gently says as his warm eyes stare into my lifeless ones.

Rage starts to fill my body, if Adelita had any part in having Angel and Coco attacked, I’m going to become a fucking serial killer.

Angel sees my face change, and he can’t help but laugh nervously.

“Easy there Cujo.”Angel warns with a sly smile.

“There is nothing comical here, Angel. What do you mean I already know? Are you telling me Adelita is the one who fucking stabbed you?” I ask with venom.

I slowly sit up more, now I’m basically sitting on my knees in his bed, ready to fucking lunge out of bed to lead my own manhunt.

“She didn’t touch me. But, there was no intruder. The person that stabbed me, it was one of her rebel kids. One of the teens.” He admits to me.

And my mind is blown.

What the fuck does he mean? A teenager did this to him?

My resting bitch face is back in full force only now, I have a confused resting bitch face.

“Details, Angel. You need to tell me the details, what the fuck happened?” I demand.

Angel moves closer to me on the bed, “Leah, breathe babe.” He says in a warning tone.

I take a breath and sit back with my legs crossed.

“Please, Angel. Please tell me who did this to you?” I beg, and for a split second, I have a flashback to last night when he practically asked me the same thing regarding Erik.

“Déjà vu.” He says as he inches a tiny bit closer. He takes my hand again and just rubs circles on the top of my bandaged hand.

“You know how the rebels have people of all ages, from adults to kids. Adelita has a handful of teens that are her go-to’s for shit. One of those little shitheads, he never liked me around. Always made snarky comments when I went to visit Adelita. The last few months, I spent more and more time down there, just trying to distract myself from the EZ bullshit. But um, this kid – Rocco, they call him, he just, he didn’t like me. He made it known he felt I was a threat to what Adelita was building, and he well, he fucking stabbed me and his other shithead friend was the one who shot Coco and I. Did Adelita know they were going to do this? Absolutely not. The look in her eyes when this happened, I’ve never seen that pain before.”

Fuck.

What kind of world am I living in?I think to myself.

“What Rocco and his friend did to you, is that why you broke up with Adelita?” I ask softly.

Angel leans in towards me, our foreheads meet for a few moments, silence fills the air.

“That story is for another day, babe.” He tells me as he places a kiss on my forehead.

I let out a giggle when his lips meet my head again.

He leans back and quirks a look, “What?”

“I should start charging you a dollar every time you kiss my forehead. I’d be a millionaire by dinnertime.” I reply with sass but with a smile.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that sass.” He says, ignoring my comment of the forehead kisses but I don’t mind.

I smile and lay back down, Angel reaches and puts a piece of my hair behind my ear. He then notices the shirt on his pillow, the one I wore last night.

I instantly get nervous, “Umm, I put it there as like a security blanket since you were outside.” I awkwardly say.

He smiles when I say that, and he reaches for it and puts the shirt on.

“I think I could use a power snooze, mind if I join you?” He asks as he starts to crawl to his spot on the bed.

No words form or come out fast enough, but I nod my head as shock takes over my face.

He put on the shirt he lent me…and he is now laying next to me…again.

I instantly curl up next to him and he puts an arm around me.

No other words are said in that moment, it’s the most comfortable silence I’ve ever endured.

It isn’t until he places one more forehead kiss that I take the opportunity to say something.

“And that’s another dollar.” I jokingly say as I stare up at him for a second. He smirks at me and gets more comfortable in the bed.

“My Leah, my Leah, my Leah – what am I going to do with you?” He says as he trails off and that is when we both drift off to sleep.

Just as my eyes close and I feel myself drifting back to sleep, I manage to finally find some peace and comfort. I do not feel scared or afraid right now. I feel safe…again, and that’s all because of Angel.

[seromreven]

title: here comes the solrock | chapter four.

pairing: mclennon, (paul mccartney/john lennon) | starrison, (ringo starr/george harrison).

summary: it’s the Monday after, aspiring pokémon trainer, Paul McCartney’s eighteenth birthday. It was today where he would get his first pokémon and start his journey to the regional Pokémon League. A journey which would prove itself to be filled with adventure, friendship, danger and romance.

author’s note: i’ve been pretty sick these past few days but i’m feeling better now! so here’s to hoping that’ll stick! (on another note; weird to get back into the habit of writing again. only been a few days but, man, it felt like years.)

????,

Paul woke up on a cold stone floor with no idea of where he was. He knew not how he had gotten there but he knew that he had been passed out in a heavy cloud of Dream Mist and most likely had been moved by the perpetrators to where he was now.

Groaning as he sat up, his whole body was aching, and he looked around. John was setting in a corner staring at him, concern visible across his face but he looked down in his folded arms the moment their eyes met. He looked around for George and quickly saw him rushing towards him tackling him in a crushing hug.

“You’re okay!” George let him go and his flickered across his face. Paul nodded. He felt sore, sure, but otherwise fine. At least physically. They had royally screwed up. There was no ignoring that. Not only had they failed in saving the Professor’s Pokémon but they had lost their own.

He looked around the small room that was their prison and increasingly felt panic overtake him.

”Where’s Ringo?” Paul was panicking. They were missing Ringo! He looked around the small room again. He was nowhere to be seen. George shook his head, “I don’t know. He wasn’t here when I woke up.” He sounded distraught, and dehydrated.

Paul looked to John with wide eyes but only got a shrug in return.

Oh, this was bad. Very bad. They couldn’t possibly think of harming Ringo, right? Or them? Could it be that Ringo possibly had managed to escape? But without them? If he had the chance; wouldn’t he have brought them along? Not that he knew the guy any well. They had just met.

Paul got a shock when a loud overpowering voice boomed out, “You kidnapped them? I told you to just keep the Pokémon! Idiots! All of you! Do something about it before The Lady arrives!” A loud beeping erupted as the call ended and loud hushed voices yelled out at each other.

“Damn it!” One said.

“We’re screwed!” Another.

And one yelled, “we have to get rid of them before the Kaili gets here!”

Paul turned his head towards the sound and could scarcely see three men dressed in all purple were the source of the yelling. A fourth appeared and Paul immediately recognized him. It was that guy! Clang! That guy who, with the lady, was the fault of Paul and his friends' placement in this rotten cage.

“Fools! The mighty Kaili would not come to this place!” His arms were crossed as he stared the men down. The Stunky from before was at his side still, staring down the men from its low height.

“And we cannot just let them go! They will surely go to the police and then yet again those filthy detectives will be after us. We have just managed to get them off our tail! Let us not repeat past mistakes!” The Stunky growled at the men who jumped back in fear. “We have already lost one! Let us not lose anymore!” and the men nodded hastily at the man as he turned away and disappeared from Paul’s field of vision.

“What does he mean by they ‘lost one’?” Paul heard George ask and he turned to look at him again. He looked no less distraught than before. Paul didn’t know what to say and glanced at John in the hope that he possibly knew.

If John knew he was being looked at, he showed no signs of it as it looked like he was trying to burn holes in his hands by staring.

What Paul wasn’t aware of; was that John blamed himself for their capture. He was the oldest of the three and had felt a certain responsibility for them. And felt that he had failed in that.

“Maybe…” Paul swallowed deeply. God, he could do with something to drink. “Maybe… he escaped?” George nodded carefully, hopeful in what Paul said to be true.

Suddenly; a door slammed and John shot to his feet and within seconds stood with his hands around the bars of their jail. It was obviously originally meant for Pokémon but clearly, it worked for humans too.

“You bitch!” He sneered at whoever had entered the room.

Paul stood up and looked to what had caused the sudden anger and movement in John, as he had seemed rather immovable in his pensive state not long ago.

It was the woman from before. The woman with the Musharna who had used Dream Mist on them. Ahme, now with a small Skitty at her feet. She and her Musharna was probably the biggest reason they were stuck in this concrete prison without their Pokémon. Even more so than that Clang guy.

John’s sudden outburst made more sense now.

John, who was staring down the woman. She stood near the bars but not close enough for John to reach her, which Paul feared the possibility of him doing.

But Ahme wasn’t looking at the closest standing man but rather at Paul. Her look was peculiar. Sympathetic and almost… sad? Why would she be any of that? Isn’t this what she and her gang would have wanted?

Her hands were folded and she looked down briefly when her soft voice said, “I am sorry.”

Paul and George glanced at each other; both confused. She was… sorry?

“I did not… want to… do that to you,” she seemed nervous and often glanced over her shoulder to the door behind her. What little she has said seemed… treacherous to her gang so she was perhaps more than fearful of discovery.

“I don’t want to hear your fucking excuses,” John again sneered at her. Paul stepped up next to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, causing John’s head to immediately snap towards him; staring him down.

“I… think we should give her a chance to say her piece,” Paul looked at John, unsure of what his reaction would be. The other man only looked quietly down at the hand on his shoulder and huffed as he stepped away from the bars.

Paul nodded, more to himself than anyone else, and looked back to the woman.

“Your friend,” she started and George suddenly appeared next to Paul. Standing where John once did. Interrupting her, George asked; “is he okay? Did he escape?”

She nodded, “the Dream Mist didn’t work on him... And while we weren’t looking; he escaped. Or… well, I saw him. But I didn’t stop him.”

Paul blinked, “why not?”

“I…” she glanced shortly at her feet, “Epoch didn’t always steal Pokémon. We used to do things for good. And help people. And now, we’re… we’re criminals!”

She was visibly upset and drew a heavy sigh, “I can’t leave Epoch before I find my sister. But I can hinder them in their… evil deeds. In secret.”

Her hand dug around in the pocket of her large purple coat and out she pulled a bundle of keys. One specifically she pulled off the ring and gave to Paul through the iron bars.

“Take this,” she said to Paul in a hushed voice.

“But only use it once the alarm goes off. Your friend will have gone to the police and they will come. Clang and I will escape but in our rush, we won’t get to the stolen Pokémon before.”

A loud voice yelled out from the other room and Ahme stepped away from the prison. She glanced at the door and quickly whispered, “they’re in the basement,” with a pointed look to a heavy door to her right and rushed out the door with the Skitty close behind her.

The door shut close and after a short moment, Paul looked down at the rusting key. On it was a carving of a bare-chested woman with ten arms. Huh. What was this symbol supposed to depict? Was it the icon of the Epoch? Some kind of depiction of their leader Kaili?

Nevertheless; with the key in hand, Paul felt a wave of reassurance come over him. They could do this!

He quickly pocketed the key and looked away from the door to behind him. John was leaning against the wall he had once been sitting up against. His mood still indescribable. Before he was upset, understandably, but now he was back to being quiet and contemplative. Paul only hoped he would be alright.

George was looking at Paul. Both waiting for the alarm they were so anxious on. She had made no mention or comment as to when it would go off. But it was hopefully soon.

But Paul couldn’t wait. He anxiously paced back and forth, expecting the alarm to go off any moment. He felt he hadn’t had the chance to really... react to what had happened. He felt that he had to remain calm… collected. But it wasn’t working out. Especially now when it was all coming together and all there was left was to wait.

He turned to George and stopped his constant pacing. George looked at him, clearly concerned. Which Paul admittedly felt bad about. His pacing back and forth must hack made quite an appearance.

He stepped up to George and in a moment, lost the strong grip he had at appearing ‘tough’ and rested his head on the other boy's shoulder with a heavy sigh.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered into the leather of George’s jacket.

“I didn’t mean to pull you into all of… this.”

He looked back up at George, who shook his head and said; “you couldn’t have known it would go like this.”

And just as Paul was about to say something, apologise and insist, a loud high pitched buzz erupted throughout the building. John jumped away from his place against the wall and came to stand next to Paul.

“It’s go time,” he looked to and from the cage door and Paul as the beeping continued through an eruption of yells and Pokémon calls coming from the other room.

Paul nodded and quickly made his way to the door with the key ready in hand. It was hastily pushed open and all three men rushed to yet another door. The one that should let them into the basement and the imprisoned Pokémon.

The industrial steel stairs lead them down and through a slim dark hallway. Paul desperately felt around for a light switch and as something clicked; stark clinical white light swept over the room. There were several cages. A lot more than what had been in the basement of the Escavalier Inn. Paul saw his Snivy. The Professor’s Pokémon, John’s and the ones belonging to Ringo. Apparently, he had not managed to get them with him when he escaped, though the interestingly pattern egg were nowhere to be seen.

And then there were many more Pokémon. Of a large variety; from Psyducks to Growlithes to Pyukumukus. From all that he saw, he could tell there was a lot of people out there missing their Pokémon.

His leg was embraced in a tight hug by Walton as he let him out of the cage he shared with a group of Eevees. Paul could see no logic in the way the Pokémon was paired up. It seemed rather random. Not that was at all his main concern. Either way; he picked up his Snivy and was quickly embraced in another tight hug.

“How’re we supposed to get them all up?” George asked and looked around the room filled with now free Pokémon.

A booming voice answered that before Paul could; “no need to worry about that, young man.” Paul immediately looked to the source and saw an older moustachioed gentleman stand at the end of the staircase. At his feet proudly stood a Stoutland. John shot to his feet but before any of the young men could react, he introduced himself;

“I am Detective George Marting,” he pulled out a flashy badge. Martin pointed with an open palm to the large Pokémon, “this is my Pokémon partner, Samuel.” The aforementioned dog Pokémon growled, though it felt non-threatening and more like a greeting. Paul wondered how Martin had gotten the large dog down the stairs, as he hadn’t heard the sound of a Pokéball.

“My partner, Mr Epstein, and I will take over from here.”

Paul was about to comment on it when loud footsteps were heard coming down the stairs and the serious looking man stepped aside to the let whomever it was pass. The first to come through was Ringo! He looked stressed but was quickly elated by the sight of his Octillery and Mudkip leaning against each other at George’s feet. Though, another thing about Ringo that Paul just couldn’t help but snicker at was that a large baby carrier was strapped to his chest with the triangle patterned egg resting inside it. It made quite a sight with Ringo running toward his Pokémon while still dressed in his pink suit.

Following Ringo was another man. He looked younger than Martin but older than Paul and his friends. He was kindly looking with his hair gelled back, though it was fighting back and curling at his forehead. He was followed by a stunning icy Ninetales. He patted the detective on his shoulder who muttered a, “speaking of.”

“Boys,” the man Paul would assume was Brian Epstein started, “your friend Ringo here has told me all about your situation.” His hand was still on the shoulder of his partner. “Once we have cleared up the building together with the police; my partner and I will drive two of you home in our car while another will go with Mr Starkey.” He pointed to Ringo. Starkey? Weren’t his last name Starr? “Whoever goes with him is up to you.”

George quickly volunteered and looked flustered once he had realised the speed at which he had done so; much to Paul’s amusement.

“Now,” Epstein turned to Martin, “is all the Pokémon accounted for.”

The man sternly nodded and looked to the group, “you boys can just head upstairs now with your Pokémon and the Professors.” And then he and Epstein proceeded further into the room and looked over the now freed Pokémon as Paul and his friends passed them by to head upstairs.

The drive home passed by quickly. Paul sat in the back with John as the two detectives sat up front, trying to make conversation with the two boys. It wasn’t a big car and Paul sat close to John, pushed up against his leather coat, with their hands occasionally meeting in quick warm touches; making Paul feel rather flustered whenever it happened.

Paul tried to keep himself distracted from the thoughts that nourished from the small touches. The thoughts of him and John. He was handsome, yes. Even as he looked a mess, they both did, from their capture in the dark space of the Epoch hideout. John’s quiff had long since given up. He had dirt stains and gravel on his jacket. But Paul couldn’t help but stare. Though, he did at least try to hide it. Not wanting to be caught and creep out the older man.

The detectives, Epstein and Martin, had made sure to feed them. Together with George and Ringo before they all parted their ways, they had stopped at a café near the police station. The Paras-ian Café it was… cleverly named. The logo matching the Pokémon in the pun. What the bug type exactly had to do with their food… Paul tried not to think about. But it all tasted fine and had been paid for by the detectives. They had largely congratulated them on their work in helping to find the lost Pokémon but had also made time to scold them about how they had put themselves in grave danger.

They had made things clearer to them. They had not been passed out for more than a few hours.

Ringo’s apparent immunity to the Dream Mist was this; as a kid, he went through many medical procedures and they had used the help of Pokémon moves to either calm him or outright make him sleep. Years of that had made him built up a slight immunity. Not a complete one, but enough for him to have woken up quickly and run to get help.

John; now having his mood improved by the presences of daylight, food and his Pokémon, gave the detectives a run for their money with a large foray of snide comments and sarcasm. It had helped to cheer up the still downcast Paul, who was dreading how to explain all of what had happened to his father. The detectives had only called George’s parents as he was still legally a minor. And they would definitely have brought that information further along to his father.

Paul kept unto the hope that his father wouldn’t let this little… detour distract or complicate the Pokémon Journey he was yet to start out on. Paul still wanted to go out into the world! To train Pokémon and defeat gym leaders! George had wanted to go along with him on the said journey until he himself was old enough to get his first Pokémon and trainer license.

But now, as Paul stared out the car window, at the moving landscape; it all seemed a little bleak.

[seventeen-scenarios-blog]

[DRABBLE REQUEST] Jealous!Mingyu (G)

Genre: Fluff, mild angst Request: Jealous Mingyu Requester: Starr Word Count: 1225 words Warnings: none really, other than a scene that made me cringe

A/N: Admin Hoshit here to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY MINGYU (why are you not my bias yet) and this was originally a request by coupsologyy but it’s been sitting in my unfinished for too long (I lost my thumb drive repeatedly, excuses, I know TT)  I’m so glad it’s finally finished 💕 I had a great time writing it for you!

- Admin Hoshit 💕

11:24PM Josh when will practice be finished

11:24PM I need you here now!!!

11:24PM Come over when you’re done!!

The incessant buzzing of Joshua’s phone distracts the rest of Seventeen from practice, said boy having gone for a coffee run with Jeonghan. Seungcheol gestures to the phone and makes a shooing motion, and Mingyu half jogs over in obedience, intent on silencing Joshua’s phone, why didn’t Joshua bring it with him, when the phone vibrates once more.

The screen lights up, and Mingyu catches sight of your name on top of all the messages.

11:25PM I told Mingyu that I was going to work the night shift, so we should be good for the whole night

Mingyu’s heart seemed to have malfunctioned, it felt like it had crashed down to his feet, but it is also stuck in his throat, and he swallows, once, twice, with difficulty. The phone trembles in his hands as he grips it tight, and his eyes cannot leave the screen, the whole world seemingly melting away, only to leave Mingyu and the mocking messages and the sick feeling in his stomach behind.

“Mingyu! Turn it off and come back!”

Seungcheol’s voice jolts him out of his daze, and he turns, almost robotically, to face the members. They are engrossed in practice, and his feet are leaden, rooted to the ground as he finds that it takes a monumental amount of strength, strength that he does not have, to even move towards the rest.

There are words forming on his lips and yet he makes no sound, the softest sound barely escaping him, but it is enough for Wonwoo to notice his stricken state, his pale face and his empty eyes.

“Soonyoung! Mingyu isn’t feeling well, I’ll just take him back to the dorm to rest, he already knows this part anyway!”

Soonyoung and Seungcheol’s disgruntled replies barely reach his ears, and Wonwoo steers him out of the door, into the waiting streets.

“What’s wrong.” A statement, not even a question, from Wonwoo, and Mingyu jerks robotically to face him.

“My girlfriend may be cheating on me with Joshua.” It felt dirty to even say the words, and Mingyu grimaced, refusing to elaborate further. He sits on the pavement, the filthy conditions resounding deeply with something within him and yet somehow making him feel worse.

Wonwoo stays silent, unsure if what Mingyu needed was advice or consolation.Mingyu’s mind was strangely empty, the only recurring thought being find her, find her and ask her what’s going on, maybe it’s not what you think, find her! He stands, and brushes aside Wonwoo’s concern, only saying that he’d “be back later, inform them not to wait up”.

The walk to your house is short, but Mingyu remembers none of it, frustration, confusion and desperation burning away at his heels and eyes, and he channels that mix of emotions into the compartment in his head reserved for only the worst of his thoughts, finding its home between his insecurity and feelings of inadequacy.

The elevator dings, and he steps out, only to spot you gazing at the moon from the front of your apartment door, arms wrapped snugly around your knees with his hoodie draped over you.

He pauses, as he drinks in the sight of you greedily, something he never realised he missed so much until he saw. 

How many nights, he wonders, how many nights has she sat here, waiting for me while I’m with the others practicing and having fun, eating supper, doing everything I wanted but come back to her?

You turn, and seeing him, startle a little.

“Mingyu! What are you doing here?” You smile uncertainly at the grimace on his face, a cross between longing and muted anger, a strange, twisted expression that doesn’t belong on his face.

Mingyu starts walking rapidly towards you, a quiet “I need to talk to you,” your only warning before he is upon you, crowding you in and leaving you breathless with his proximity.

“Do you have any plans tonight?” He questions, eyes alight with a strange fervour.

“Plans? No, not really,” you mutter, pulling the door behind you shut with a nervous smile, “what makes you think that I have any plans?”

“Oh? But Joshua told me he was coming to see you?”

You falter, and the uncertain, slightly guilty expression that crosses your face does not escape him. It twists his insides with a sharp pain, as you scramble for something to say.

Mingyu pushes you against the wall, and presses close.“Why are you spending so much time with Joshua nowadays,” he presses, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Is this really what he was worried about?

“Are you jealous? We’re friends, you don’t need to worry about anything,” you reassure Mingyu, placing an arm on his chest to push him away slightly. His eyes narrowing gives you pause.

“I told Mingyu that I was busy so we can have the whole night?” He questions mockingly, throwing your own words back at you, releasing you quickly to look down, as if unable to even look at your face anymore.

No, no, no he must have misunderstood, I need to tell him the truth but if I do then everything would be ruined!

His lost expression makes something in you drop, and steeling yourself, you reach out and slip your hand into his, his clenched fists slowly relaxing to envelope yours, as if by instinct. His fingers tighten around yours, before pulling away abruptly. You hold on tighter, and kick open the door of your apartment before pulling him into the darkness.

“Wha-” he starts, before falling silent.

You flick on the lights. Giant streamers spelling out “HAPPY BIRTHDAY MINGYU” smiled back at him cheerily, an enormous pile of more streamers clearly waiting to be hung and cooking utensils haphazardly brought out and placed on the table, ingredients spilling out from grocery shopping bags. Your place was usually tidy, but Mingyu’s birthday was a special occasion that you wanted to celebrate to the extremes, and it called for a sacrifice of your usual cleanliness.

“I wanted help setting up for your birthday, and since multiple members disappearing might give it away, I only asked for Joshua’s help, we really weren’t going to do anything else,” you explained, and said birthday boy sits on the ground abruptly.

“My legs are weak, give me a moment please,” he mutters into his hands as he sprawls out, lanky body taking up too much space, as you step over his body in a bid to reach the kitchen table and start sorting out the groceries.

“Now you’ve ruined your surprise,” you mutter unhappily, and his hand stretches out to catch your ankle.

“Stay,” he whines, and who are you to refuse him? You curl yourself up beside him as he asks about your day, his fingers threading through your hair as if your presence itself calms him, calms you, and you lie there, holding onto his shirt like you are holding on to him.

“I’m so blessed to have you,” he snuffles into your hair, a while later.

“And I you,” you smile, but then grimace.

“Can we get off the floor now? You’d better pretend to be surprised tomorrow, or I swear I will kick your butt to Mexico!”

[starrnobella]

Turn Around Bright Eyes - Chapter 7 - Caution Tape Around My Heart

A/N: Hello darlings! I am back with an update for this mysterious little tale. Part of the reason for that is the simple fact that this tale was nominated in the Beyond the Book Nook Fanfiction's 2018 Summer Awards. It was nominated in four categories! I am beyond shocked that I was even nominated for one, especially since I was nominated in the Best Overall story up against some amazing authors.

Along with Best Overall, I was nominated for Best Angst, Best WIP, and Best Drama. Like I said before I'm just in awe and I can't believe it. If you are interested in voting for my story, please reach out to me on social media and I will send you the link to vote. I know I would greatly appreciate the votes because it's very rare that I get nominated in awards. Thank you to whoever it is that nominated me, just know it means the world.

@xxdustnight88 was able to work her beta wonders magic on this chapter and @squarepeg72 alpha read it for me. Be sure to check out both of them. They are hands down some of my favorite authors to read, especially when I'm in need of a good pick me up, even if some of their stories are the angstiest things I've ever read.

The title of this chapter is Caution Tape Around My Heart which is a lyric from i hate u, i love u by gnash.

Check me out on social media if you're interested. All the links are on my profile! Or you can find me by searching starrnobella on most social media aspects. :)

Let me know if you'd like the link to vote!

The early update is just for NathanielCardeu! Go show him some love!

I love reading your thoughts as to what you think is going on. I think this is beginning to become one of my favorite stories that I've ever written, even if it rips my heart out most of the time.

Love always,

~starr

Rolling over, he reached out expecting to curl up next to the warmth of her body, but when his hand landed on the cool mattress, his eyes flickered open. He pushed up on an elbow and attempt to look around the room, but in the darkness couldn't really see anything. There was a passing thought in his mind as to where she had disappeared to, but as the thought exited his mind, his hand reached out for his mobile.

There was a small part of him that had hoped there was a message waiting for him on his mobile from her. They hadn't spoken in several days and the lack of communication was starting to wear on him. Certainly their fight hadn't been minor, but at the same time they had been involved in fights much worse.

He had hoped that by giving her space, she would come to him. However, as time continued to pass on, he didn't see that happening. This time he might have to be the one to reach out first. Obviously trying to ignore the issues that had begun to bubble up in their relationship had not been the right steps to take. The entire experience was a new thing for both of them, and it quite possibly required a bit of a learning curve.

Each new fight led to a new discovery about the other's triggers and this last fight may have pulled one too many. Only time would tell if they were going to be able to move past this.

Scrolling down to her name in the messages on his mobile, his thumb hovered over their conversation as he contemplated sending her a message. What was he supposed to say to the woman who he had fallen head over heels in love with while still being in love with the woman that he shared this bed with? It seemed as though no words would fix the fissure that had formed between them. All that silence had managed to accomplish was deepening the cut.

He wasn't willing to admit that he missed her, but deep in his heart he knew there was something missing in his life. It felt as though there was a piece of himself missing when she wasn't talking to him.

Allowing his thumb to hover no longer, he pressed down and opened their conversation. Nothing would be resolved if they continued to remain silent. One of them had to break it for the sake of whatever their relationship had turned into.

4:25 AM: Are you ever going to speak to me again?

4:25 AM: Did you mean it when you said we were through? I'm not sure that I can go on living without you…

4:25 AM: Things really won't be the same if you aren't still in my life.

He glanced at the time on his mobile and furrowed his brow as he looked around their small bedroom. Where the bloody hell had his wife disappeared to? It was 4:30 in the morning and the last time he had checked, she never had to be up for work before seven.

Groaning, he rolled over to his side and pushed himself up into a seated position. A chill ran up his spine as his feet hit the floor. There was something in the air, but he couldn't exactly put a finger on it. It would be better to get out of bed now and deal with whatever storm that was brewing now, rather than dealing with it in the morning after a few more hours of sleep. He took a deep breath and pushed himself off the bed.

He made his way slowly toward the door and noticed the sitting room light brightening the small hallway. As he took a few steps into the hall, he heard the soft murmur of music drifting down the hall. The tune sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place the title or the singer.

"Who's singing?" he asked as rounded the corner into the room. He noticed that she was curled up on the couch under an afghan sound asleep.

He smiled and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. He picked up the remote from off the couch beside her arm and aimed it over his shoulder, shutting off the stereo and placing the remote on the coffee table. Turning his attention back to her sleeping form, he leaned down and slipped his hands underneath her, picking her up and he slowly made his way back to the bedroom. He glanced back over his shoulder at the lamp. That could wait until he had returned her to the bed.

. . . . . . . . .

The flickering light of her mobile stirred her from the light slumber that she had been able to drift off to within the last few hours. She knew exactly what was causing the screen to flash, and honestly, all she wanted to do was pick up the damn device and just give him a call. She wanted to do was hear his voice once again.

She missed him. There was certainly no denying that, but there had been too much damage done already and nothing either of them could do would fix any of it. Maybe if she just continued to ignore him, and everyone else in the world, things would be simpler. Things might even begin to return to normal for her, not that she was sure what normal was anymore.

In the darkness, she heard the faint buzzing of her mobile on the nightstand. Cursing under her breath, she reached out and grabbed the device. She squinted at the screen and sighed. Of course that would be the name that was causing her insomnia. Why was she not surprised?

Glancing at the sleeping man lying beside her, she took a deep breath and lifted the blanket off of her, sliding out from underneath it. As her feet hit the floor, she shivered at the coolness of the wooden surface. The feeling was oddly calming, but at the same time she became increasingly aware of the suspicious behavior she was currently exhibiting.

As she rose from the bed, she glanced back at him over her shoulder and sighed before picking her mobile up off the nightstand and making her way toward the door. She didn't know whether or not she felt guilty about leaving him alone in bed to check for messages from another man or if she was proud of herself for doing so.

She slowly turned the doorknob and heard a sharp inhale of breath coming from the bed behind her. She froze in place and waited for the restless sounds to subside. There was a part of her that hoped he would just think she had rolled closer to the side of the bed and wouldn't realize that she was completely missing. Even as the thought crossed her mind, she found herself shaking her head and judging herself for her own behavior.

When it seemed that all the noise had settled from the bed, she quickly opened the door and cracked it open just enough for her to sneak out. Turning on the flashlight app, she lit the hallway in front of her as she pulled the door shut behind her. She hoped that the click of the latch wasn't loud enough to wake him from what she assumed to be a light sleep with how soon after she had left the bed he had moved.

She made her way quickly down the hall and into the kitchen. Reaching for the kettle, she decided that a cup of tea was in order. She needed to decide if it was really worth finding out what he had to say after almost two weeks of them not talking. In her mind, space was exactly what he needed when he didn't fight for her to stay with him.

Was it really too much to want to be fought for by someone you believed to love you? She wasn't sure of the answer to that question, but at the same time she didn't want to admit that she had been thinking about someone else when the rings on her finger was placed there by another man. She glanced down at the rings and sighed. Something needed to be done or said, but in all honesty she had no idea what.

Making her way into the living room, she collapsed onto the couch and buried her head into the pillows. Part of her wanted nothing more than for her mobile to ring and flash his name across the screen. However, she knew the likelihood of that happening was slim to none. She knew he had taken what she said to heart at their last encounter. As much as she hated herself for saying what she did, it had to be said. It was needed to save both marriages in the long run.

Sliding her finger across the screen she tapped on her messages icon and closed her eyes. She had noticed the red badge on the app telling her that there was something waiting for her, but she hadn't taken the time to see who they were from. At the same time, however, she didn't remember the device notifying her that someone had been trying to reach her. She slowly peaked her eyes open and saw his name in bold at the top of the list of messages.

Almost immediately she closed out of the app and tossed the mobile across the couch. It landed with a thud against the armrest by her feet. Covering her face with her hands, she took in a deep breath and held it for a matter of moments. This was exactly what she had wanted, wasn't it? She wanted him to reach out ot her, but at the same time she knew that they were going to fall back into the same spiral they had been spinning in for the last year if she answered him right now. They were trying to better themselves and save their marriages. Not save the relationship they had built with one another, right?

At this point, she really wasn't sure what they were trying to do. All she knew was that she wanted to pick up her mobile and give him a call. She wanted nothing more than to hear his voice and know that everything was going to be okay. She wanted to know that they were going to work everything out together, since that's the way they always seemed to work. But she knew better. Or at least that's what she kept telling herself.

She leaned forward, reaching out out to pick up the device and she pressed the home button lighting up the screen. She started at the time on the clock. 4:45 am. What on earth was she doing awake? She slowly slid open the screen on her mobile and looked at the messages that had been waiting there for her.

Just twenty short minutes ago he was trying to get a hold of her, but she wasn't there to answer readily. Twenty minutes ago he was thinking about her instead of his wife. If only she had checked her phone a little earlier, then maybe things would be different.

Pushing away the thoughts that were starting to flood her mind, she clicked on his name and skimmed over the words on the screen. Her heart ached as she read over what he had to say. Everything that he portrayed in three short messages were things that she had been feeling herself since she walked away. Up until now, she hadn't' been able to even admit that to herself. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to type up a response. Maybe if she didn't want the words appear on her screen, she'd actually be able to hit send.

4:46 AM: I want to mean the things I said, but my heart says something completely different. I haven't been sleeping well. Have you?

She exhaled as she pressed send. Only time would tell if he really missed her or if he was just testing the waters to see if she'd respond. She hoped that by ending the message with a question it would entice him to respond, even if he really didn't want to talk to her.

4:47 AM: You responded… Is everything okay? Do I need to come get you?

She smiled at the screen. He was always so caring and thoughtful, even if he seemed to worry a tad too much. Especially when she would reply in the wee hours of the morning.

4:47 AM: I'd be lying if I said that everything was okay, but you don't need to come get me. I don't think that us seeing each other is the right thing to do right now.

4:48 AM: Why not? If it's what we both want, then we should give our hearts what they want.

4:49 AM: Just so we can fight about the fact that it won't ever just be the two of us?

4:49 AM: I'm so sick of fighting.

4:49 AM: I just want to be with you. I don't care about everything else that is going on. I'm going crazy not seeing you or even just talking to you. I need you...

Her breath caught in her throat at his last message. As much as she hated the fighting, she knew that she needed to be careful around him. Too many feelings were starting to get involved and they were making her question her feelings about her marriage and the sleeping man in her bed. She shook her head furiously and pushed the thoughts aside. Now was not the time to be thinking about her husband.

She glanced down at her screen and noticed the bubble flashing dots at the bottom of the screen. Part of her wanted to just shut off her phone and go back to bed, snuggle up next to her husband and spend the better part of the next hour or so lost in his embrace and kisses. However, the stronger part of her wanted to continue this conversation just to see where it goes.

The soft buzzing of her mobile pulled her back out of her thoughts and she looked down at the messages on the screen. A soft smile pulled at the corner of her lips. Sighing contentedly, she sunk down in the sofa and typed off a response.

. . . . . . . . .

A sense of panic rushed through her body and she jolted straight up, trying to take a few deep breaths as she looked around the room in an attempt to figure out where she was. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on the couch in the sitting room, and now she was laying in bed with the blankets tucked in tightly around her.

Glancing to the side, she noticed her husband sleeping soundly. Her panicked awakening didn't even cause him to stir. Frustrated with his lack of concern for her, she thought about her course of action for a brief second and then swiftly kicked him in the leg.

A muffled groan rose up from the other side of the bed, but otherwise there was no response. Rolling her eyes, she swung her leg out again and also smacked his back, hard enough to sting her hand slightly. This time she got the reaction she had been hoping for.

He rolled over onto his back and scrubbed his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes before lowering them back to his side. "I was sleeping, you know?"

"I'm pretty sure I was sleeping too, but you felt the need to move me," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest as she slumped down against her pillow. "You could have at least woken me up before you moved me."

"I tried," he replied, laughing softly as he reached an arm out and wrapped it around her shoulders. He pulled her close to his chest and smiled when he felt her nuzzle her head against his chest. "You mumbled something at me and then turned your face into the armrest of the couch."

"I was comfortable," she pouted.

"Didn't look like it to me," he replied, squeezing her shoulder tightly. "Besides, I was lonely in this big bed all by myself."

She laughed, wrapping her arm around his waist and squeezing him tight. "You didn't even know I had left. Hell, it took me kicking you twice and smacking you to get you to wake up just now."

He leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "I knew you had left. Something deep in my soul told me that I was alone."

She smacked his stomach gently. "Just admit it, you had no idea until you rolled over and reached out for me. Just like you do every night around four am."

Furrowing his brow, he looked down at her puzzled. As though she sensed the odd look, she tilted her head back and smiled slyly at him. She snickered briefly before leaning back forward and continued listening to his heartbeat.

Closing her eyes softly, she let out a gentle hum. That subconscious cuddle session was one of her favorite things to experience in the middle of the night. Every night that she was roused from her slumber to cuddle, made for the next day to be slightly more enjoyable. Even if she was missing a key amount of time from her normal night's sleep.

He opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again quickly. It was best he not point out that he had no idea what she was talking about. Even if he did, his mind was most likely not in the same sweet place that she probably thought it was when he would reach out for her. It was not often that he remembered his dreams, but he knew what he had been dreaming about just before he found the empty bed. He was certain that she would not be pleased with where his mind had been at that exact moment.

As his mind drifted off to thoughts of his dreams, he heard the soft buzzing of one of their mobile devices. It sounded as though it was right beside him, indicating that it was his own, but right now his focus needed to be on the woman in his arms. The messages coming in could wait until later in the morning.

She had heard the buzzing and almost stirred from his arms, but she knew that this was where she was supposed to be. Whoever was trying to get ahold of her had to know that she was most likely asleep. Just because she may have answered them at this ungodly hour one night, didn't mean she was willing to do it again or that she was even able to without drawing suspicion to herself. Tomorrow was another day.

. . . . . . . .

5:01 AM: When I can see you again?

5:01 AM: When we quit lying to everyone we are supposed to love…

5:02 AM: That could be an entire lifetime. I can't wait that long to hold you in my arms. Don't you know that I love you?

5:02 AM: Yes I know and you know that I love you too…

5:02 AM: But?

5:04 AM: I hate that I love you...

[moonyremembrall]

A STROLL IN THE PARK PLAYLIST

Tenerife sea by Ed Sheeran

Grow as we go by Ben Platt

I was made for loving you by Tori Kelly

You’re all I need by by Marvin Gaye and Tami Terrell

Strawberries & Cigarettes by Troye Sivan

The tiny and cold pair of hand that belonged to Ginny obstructed Starr from walking in steady steps, the light of the world was completely shut. The two walked timidly as the crunch of dried leaves filled in the gaps of sereneness. Starr was certain that she apparated to a place she called home, The Burrow. Positive that in the distance it was the crooked and slanted home that hums with joy and laughter every day. Despite the fact that Starr trusts Ginny, she can be careless and distracted therefore to prevent future bruises and bumps, Starr had her arms outstretched. “Watch your step.” Oddly enough, Ginny reminded Starr at the perfect moment, because ten steps ahead was the threshold that welcomes people to the kitchen where memories are made.

Normally one would hear the clang of clashing pans as it levitates in the air, the dicing of luscious vegetables and the sizzle coming from the soup that Molly would have ready on a daily basis. The moment Starr stepped into the shabby kitchen, she could sense something was wrong. None of the things that happened on the daily basis as explained occurred this time. It was dead silent.

“Why is it quiet here? Where is everyone?” Starr inquired, she grew out of patience and tried fighting her way out of the blindfold. “Will you calm down for a bit?” Ginny tightened her grip on Starr and was out of breathe when she accomplished it.

The floor slowly creaked as the steps of a person who obviously tried to be discreet made their way to where Starr and Ginny were standing. Gradually the sound of tiptoe became impatient steps. Right when the world was no longer full of blackness for Starr, the scent of fresh mown lawn took grip of her entire body and spun her around in the air. His touch was gentle and tight as though the two have long been separated from one another. Once her feet touched the wooden ground, she cupped his face in her tiny hands and said with grandeur enthusiasm “Ron!” Her eyes lit up and she smiled from ear to ear. As though the law of soulmate gravitated him to mimic her, he requited the enthusiasm and said softly with his melancholic voice “Starr!”.

“Wait here, alright?” He fumble about his way out of the kitchen and in a flash was back with his arms hidden behind his back. Starr was sure that he knows when her birthday was and today was no more than a regular day, her curiosity then grew “What have you got behind your back?” She interrogated. His eyes suddenly built up with hope and excitement as he made his way closer to the girl in a blue shirt. “Close your eyes and put out your hand.” He said gently though he was trying his hardest to contain his agitation. At first she was suspicious and eyed him with narrow eyes but she trusted him with all her heart and decided to follow his request.

What was on her hands was unlike any other thing she has yet to touch, the object was soft and light. It warmed her cold hand from standing out in the cold air for too long previously. “Now open your eyes.” Ron rarely sounded nervous but this time Starr could hear how much her opinion on this object meant to him.

Starr was holding onto a blue knitted jumper with a personalised S on it. Lost for words she remained silent and stared at the jumper in awe. Ron broke the silence as his voice quivered while asking “Do you like it?” Starr raised her gaze to see that he had his fist clenched and was nibbling onto it with petrified eyes while waiting for her reaction. “Like it? I love it. Thank you so much.” She was practically jumping with joy as she clutched her sweater tightly.

A tide of relief washes over him, because to him nothing matters more than her opinion, “Thank goodness. I would honestly spend another fortnight just to remake it if you said you did not like this one.” He seemed taller and prouder now that Starr had complimented his creation, it was as though her words filled his lungs with air. The gap between them now closed as Starr steps closer to Ron, she stands on her tiptoe to reach for his cheek then planted a soft kiss as a way to thank him. Blood flowed quickly reddening the entire face of Ron, he quickly shuffled his hair to distract her from the shy grin that was forming. Starr chuckled because seeing Ron all bashful makes her heart warm, she reminded him with her soft voice “You are the best, did you know that?”. The ocean coloured eyes stared deeply into the chocolate one. In that moment he knew he has found his person. In that moment he believed in the word ‘soulmate’.

Shocking to the both of them, Starr intruded the moment “Now come along. I want to bring you somewhere.”. Her tiny hand grabbed onto the large set of hand. She felt as though he was really made for her by the way that their hands fit together so perfectly. The excitement builds up inside her as she drags him to the cold air.

Though Starr often complains about the dreary cold weather, she adores it when Ron pokes her nose as it reddens amidst the chilly wind. Starr jolted back her head as Ron poked her nose in surprise, his entire face drowned in apology as he realised her state of shock, “Your nose is red.” He informed her whilst brining his finger to his own nose to tell her where the redness on her face was. There was nothing better than a little laugh to shake off the awkwardness and hence Starr laughed to dismiss the topic. She entwined her hands into his and said “On the count of three we are apparating.” As she said this her brown eyes were so fixated into his. She was far shorter than him so she lifted her face to meet his gaze.

A look of terror swam up and his voice was suddenly hoarse, “Starr, you know how terrified I get.” He looked determine to get himself out of this situation, his jaw clench and his eyes pierce into hers.

Nevertheless, Starr kept her stare soft and her voice convincing, “Don’t you trust me?” She pursued a tiptoe and reached up to ruffle his hair as her hand travels down to his cheek where he presses gently against them. He breathed slower “Well, yeah. Of course.” He said in a matter-of-factly tone. To this declaration a slight smirk drew itself on Starr’s face, “I promise I am here to protect you. Now, grip my hand tightly and have faith in me.” She felt the strength of his hand as he held her tighter. She felt his trust in her as though with her he can do no wrong. She counted down her voice slow and steady “One……Two…….Three.”.

It happened in a matter of seconds. As though the two were sucked into a void of blackness. A void where everything twirls and spins and entwines. A narrow space where bodies collide and transform. The bodies spat out of nothingness. Landing dishevelled on a dirt track. Head first into the pile of dried leaves.

Starr quickly stood up and cleaned herself from the mess it had bestowed upon her. Whilst Ron was summoning up the power to regain consciousness. The two walked alongside each other. Simply the breeze of the wind breaking the silence. It was music to her ear to listen to the trees brush against one another making a beautiful song. There they were. Finally. Overlooking the world. Tiny houses line up next to each other. Even more tinier bodies inside it. Simply doing daily activities. A mom is probably working right now. A dad may perhaps be changing the diaper. In all seriousness they felt more connected to each other knowing that in this tiny world, he meant the world to her and she meant to world to him.

Taking this all in relaxed them and they sat themselves on the cliff, where the sky seems to be limitless as though nothing can end the colours of the sky. She painted his world with love and as did he. He watched her hug herself as her lips began to quiver. The wind was getting stronger. Grabbing the sweater he made from behind Starr he then scooted to get himself closer to her. She glanced sideways and smiled. His voice was hypnotising and was music to her ears “Starr, may I?” The sweater was outstretched and as she scanned upwards to his face, he was wearing his most sincere smile and gentle eyes. She nodded. He slipped the sweater carefully around her neck and once done he cupped both her hands and warm them up with his breathe.

At this precise moment, nothing else mattered. It was them against the world.