#Matt: There’s a silent peace in the tragedies

[wilyfoxmuses]

tag dump, will keep adding please ignore

[thelittlestspider]

i need to write a matt/peter dream sequence inspired by palace by haley kiyoko. because:

There's a silent peace in the tragedies Water washes clean until they're dry Turn your shattered dreams into rhapsodies This is where I'll keep you in my mind I need you to be free

...

So this is where I'll leave ya Sitting in a palace covered in gold, inside my head This is where I'll see ya, on a bed of roses When I wanna kiss your silhouette

...

Every memory adds another piece Purple, blue, and green Just rest your eyes Fortunes in the trees Pure as harmony This is where I'll keep you in my mind I need you to be free

...

Dance in your color Reflecting in your light You're my horizon You'll always paint my sky

(it would be lilies instead of roses, but still.)

[breesays]

The trouble is, you think you have time

I don't usually blog about the mundane minutiae of my day to day life (unless you remember that Motherhood Minutes blog) but today was just... a lot. I think I need to unload it.

Last night the fireworks woke Desmond up (at 10pm) and he was basically unable to go back to sleep until 1am. Tim was angry about it. I was annoyed he was angry and also a little nauseous because when it was determined Des would "sleep" in our bed until the fireworks were done, I took an Advil PM.  It never took effect like it was supposed to, as I was alternating from big spoon on toddler bed to glider chair to kitchen for applesauce packets. When he wailed at 5AM I begged Tim to tap in. We all felt wrecked this morning. 

Our brand new downstairs neighbor knocked on our door at 8AM while Tim was taking Des to school. He asked if we could WALK SOFTER. In a very polite way, but they've only been there A NIGHT and it was 4th of July. I smiled and nodded and asked for specifics (he gave none) and then drafted an email to our landlords after he left because it's really concerning that they complained after ONE night. I've been a downstairs neighbor more than half my life, and I think we are very considerate. We never heard so much as a peep from the previous tenants. I understand where they're coming from because we lived below an AirBnB rental for 4 years but it also had me fuming because we're just living, man. We don't wear shoes in the house and I give Des as many balloons as his heart desires so that he doesn't bounce any balls indoors.

Tim was laid off from his FT job on Friday so my normally completely silent working morning was punctuated with business calls - cold calls - and I already hate phone calls in general but I was nervous for HIM. And him landing a good gig (yay) consequently meant that some of my plans for the rest of July were... now unstable. C'est la vie.

During dinner I got a call from my Stepmom. She never calls so I was  worried the instant her name popped up on my phone. Her sister died. Maru. Unexpectedly. Suddenly. I was so gutted. Maru was a part of our lives when we were little, she lived with my Dad and Lita when they first moved here from Mexico. She was so good with kids (us) that I remember insensitively asking my Dad once if he was sure he married the right sister. I remember leading "english class" for her and Lita and I think their brother Hector. All my memories of her are warm and comforting. Me watching her write letters to her friends and family in Mexico. She told us her American name was "Jenny" but she was definitely a Maru. Was. Fuck. It stabbed me right through the heart to hear my Stepmom cry. She said it was like a dream, not real. I wanted to run to OC and hug her. How completely tragic to learn your sister was taken away from you. It's not my tragedy but I still needed to know what happened. At least we know she didn't suffer. Rest in peace, Maru.

I'm reading a book called "How To Stop Time" by Matt Haig, and it's an interesting perspective for someone (me) who has been kind of distressing over how I'm going to read all the books I want to read write all the blogs I wanna write see all the things I wanna see hear all the music I wanna hear pet all the cats I wanna let watch Desmond grow and experience things and also write about THAT. I wanna travel I want to teach I want to nap on exotic beaches. We don't have enough time. 

I've been trying to appreciate situations for what they are and not what I want them to be. 

The other day after an activity-packed day, Desmond wanted to talk. It was past his bedtime. I asked, "What was your favorite thing about today?" He paused, then said, "This, mama."

Alive.

[windywooshes]

Douma x (F)Reader

~*:beloved short cut guide:*~

(Y/N): Name

(L/N): Last name

(H/C): Hair color [i.e. brunette, blonde, etc ]

(E/C): Eye color

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

A rainbow. That was the first thought which crossed her mind when she peeked between the bodies of her parents and the two cult leaders.

Behind the excited chattering, was a boy, no older her age. He had silver hair and the most sparkly eyes the little girl ever saw in her young life. The boy himself was skimming the room, borred, until he locked eyes with the curious child. (Y/N) quickly hid behind her mother's legs with a slight blush covering her cheeks, when he smiled warmly over to her, waving his tiny hand as a gesture of welcome.

It seemed that the older female felt the curiousity of the (H/C) which was circling around her like a swarm of beez. Buzzing and summing. What would his name be ? Is he another kid whose parents joined ? Will he be her friend ?

Most questions were answered when she and her parents were led into the room. She was confused as to why her mother and father were bowing down deeply infront of the child. Tearing up, she was forced down for a bow as well. Her head colliding with the hard tatami matt, creating a blue spot the next day, probably. The boy's smile didn't vanish.

„Welcome to the cult of entire happiness~. May your stay bring joy and peace into your life. You may raise your head now.“

„Oh thank you, our beloved leader.“

(Y/N) raised both of her eyebrows in confusion. Leader ? Is she a leader as well ? There is no significant difference between the boy and her, after all. If this boy could bring happiness to her parents...would she be able to as well ?

She silently gasped. The girl would definitely make sure to ask the silverette how to do that. Life seemed to be very gloomy, whenever she was home alone with her elders. Loud arguments and ugly fights painted the nights in a muted color. How she longed for those old colorful days, where her father would embrace her mother tightly. Or the summer days where she was helping her mother with the laundry, laughing and enjoying the surring melody of the cicadas.

When the family exited the ceremony room, they were invited for tea to discuss the other details together. (Y/N) wouldn't stop thinking about the boy. Thanks to the mother of the leader, she was allowed to skim through the palace by her own. You wouldn't need so say that twice to her, as she immediately dashed her way out of the room.

To her disadvantage, the mansion felt like a labyrinth. Crossing many different rooms and areas but not the one she wished for. She sinked down on the wooden floor. Sniffles already escaping her nose.

(Y/N) was lost. But before she could even break out into tears, she felt a presence behind her. Turning around, she found the little boy from before. Her face lighted up on the spot as she made her way up to her legs again.

„Are you okay ? Where are your parents ?“

His voice sounded so soft, yet the words felt hollow. On a closer look, she noticed the colorful orbs to be dull. Without any emotion or life in them. How come such beautiful eyes, looked so cold ?

Douma shifted his head to the side. Was the girl deaf ? Could she maybe not speak ? Before he could say anything, he felt a tug on his hand as the girl suddenly grabbed it with both of her own. She was piercing holes into him. That was something he never had happen to him before. What a bold child, she was.

„Please teach me how I can give Mama and Papa happiness !“

Her voice sounded determined. Almost as if she blurted out a promise, she swore to fullfill and he was the only key which would lead to it.

Douma's eyes furrowed upwards. How should he confess to her that happiness is a fraud ? That there is no way to bring or become happy ? That it was all just a ghost of sensation inside someone's mind ? He placed his free hand ontop of one of hers, smiling again.

„I believe that you should find it yourself, as I am only a messenger between god and the humans.“

He couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth he believed in. She seemed to be too pure and innocent to be painted in muddy hues by this harsh reality. The mansion was a place of peace. Of illusions. It was not his job to destroy them. Especially for one of hid future followers.

He watched her eyes drifting off from his own, onto the floor. Her eyebrows knitted together. For a moment Douma expected her to be disappointed but he was met with an excited expression instead. Her lips forming into a toothy grin.

„Right ! I think I can do it even without god's help !“

He was caught off guard for a moment. All the time he was seated on the throne, he only saw people bowing down to him. Praying. Sending messages to god for help, instead of searching for solutions for their problems on their own. Suddenly his heartbeat quickened.

„Oh ! I'm (L/N) (Y/N) ! But please just call me (Y/N) ! We should play a lot when you can~“

Her smile was as bright as the sun. Genuine warmth which he hasn't felt in a while.

„Please call me Douma. It's a pleasure to meet a new follower~“

Before the two of them could chat any further, a female voice could be heard, calling out the name of the (H/C).

„I think you need to leave already. I hope we will meet again.“

With that, Douma disappeared inside the room next to them. Just in time before (Y/N)'s mother arrived to take her daughter to the exit of the mansion.

Maybe, they could become friends after all.

Months passed with her family visiting the cult on a regular basis once a week. Sadly the girl couldn't make much progress with their friendship since Douma was only seen durring the ceremonies or private prayer appointments. It was a very frustrating visit every week but the girl told herself to keep trying.

She found a chance to approach him after hearing about the latest tragedy. Douma's father was found murdered by his wife while she herself took her own life by poisoning herself.

(Y/N) felt sad for the young boy. How would he live without his parents ? How can he live day by day, knowing about such a horrible event in his own home ? After all it seemed to happen inside of his ceremony room too.

She carefully peeked inside of the four walls, hoping not to interrupt him in one of his cleansing ceremonies. He was lying on his pillow, eyes closed. It seemed as if he was fast asleep from all the stress and preasure. Suprisingly, the room didn't contain any sight or smell of the blood bath.

Carefully the (H/C) girl, sneaked in her way infront of the pillow and starred down at the child with her big (E/C) orbs. It didn't take long for Douma to open his own, to gaze right back at the owner of the second pair.

„Do you wish for an audience ? I can squeeze in some extra time for you.“ he smiled brightly but it felt so hollow and cold as always.

Inching her way closer to the male, she carefully glanced around the room, making sure that no adults were close who could scold her for her actions.

The said boy just looked at her, confused by her behaviour but not questioning it any further until he felt small arms wrap around his body and the warmth against him. The colorful orbs blinked, not sure what to do or say in such a situation. It felt warm. It felt save. His chest tightened for a bit, heart beating louder. Something was dwelling up inside of him but he couldn't really catch this intruder. It was unknown for him. It felt just like the first interaction they shared.

Hearing sniffles, his bushy eyebrows arched up. Was she crying on his behalf ? Because of the latest events ? Douma couldn't even understand why she would make herself sad because of something what happened to him. It shouldn't matter to her. It was his life, his tragedy to bear, not hers.

„I'll make sure to come every day and play with you ! Pinky promise !“

Holding out her tiny finger infront of him, after leaving the hug, (Y/N) had a stern yet soft look on her face. The boy shouldn't feel lonely all by himself. She'll make sure to bring some fun and adventure into his life ! Only because he brings happiness doesn't mean that he can't have some of it as well, right ?

Douma on the other hand was just perplexed and totally unsure as to what to do now. He just ended up copying her and held out his own pinky infront of her. As quick as he could blink, she had both of their fingers wrapped up together and gave it one nice shake before letting go. Giving him a bright toothy smile, before waving her hand to say goodbye.

„I'll be back tomorrow !“

With that, the silver haired male was left alone in the room, still holding his pinky up, confused and unsure as to what just happened.

And as tomorrow came, (Y/N) dashed along with it. Somehow both kids managed to sneak out of the stuffy ceremony room into the big garden which was located in the middle of the temple. With paper squares in one hand and entwined fingers in the other, the (H/C) made her way over to the pond with the boy.

„(L/N)-san...I believe we are not allowed to trespass into the garden.“

Actually, Douma couldn't care less about the rules as he was the center of attention in the cult but he just tried to find a way to get back inside, since the bright sun burnt down on them, as it was already the middle of summer.

„Aw...you are no fun, Douma-chan !“ she puffed her cheeks out with her eyebrows knitted together but eased up once she handed him some square papers.

Seating herself on the stoned pavement, she started to fold and bend one of the thin sheets and managed to create a decent looking lotus flower.

„Let's decorate the pond a bit. It looks so bland and the koi seem to like the flowers too !“

Glancing into the reflecting water, he watched as two kois swam underneath the freshly folded lotus, trying to hide from the shining orb in the sky by swimming in the shadow of the paper figure.

Douma looked over to the side, catching the eyes of the girl and smiled a bit. He gently placed his hat down from his head and sat himself close to his companion. Watching her tiny hands gliding over the paper with each new fold. Copying her movements calmly, as if he had done this millions of times before. The girl glimpered her eyes in amazement.

„Woah ! It looks so pretty ! I'm sure the fishes will be happy about it !“

Her smile was just as bright as the afternoon sun, watching happily when he placed the flower gently into the water with a smile gracing his own lips.

Douma caught himself gazing at (Y/N) with his own amazement and curiosity. His chest was fluttering again but he didn't seem to mind it as much as yesterday. He just took her hand in his tiny one and smiled brightly.

„Let's make this pond beautiful together !“

The (H/C)'s face lighted up with his promise. Nodding her head in excitement, she squeezed his hand gently before continuing to fold new flowers to place into the liquid.

Years passed and the garden grew, along with the two kids. The new flora and fauna decorating the center of the mansion proudly.

Both , (Y/N) and Douma continued to care for it and the koi. Meeting up every day just for a bit tranquillity from the cult. The silverette was dreading for the small amount of time he could spend with the girl. After all those years, he grew to enjoy her company and her refreshing nature. Just like a fresh cube of ice durring a hot summer day, she was cooling him off and bringing him the relaxation he secretly hoped for since his early childhood days.

Douma was currently seated on the wooden floor which connected the garden and the house with each other. Gracefully folding a lotus flower from a peachy pink colored origami paper. Even though they planted real lotus in the pond, he still found himself crafting them whenever he was waiting for the (H/C).

Quick taps on the floor brought him out of his daydreaming. He knew exactly who they belonged to as he heard the same rythm for such a long period already. A smile waved upon his face when he caught the (E/Y) orbs and the slightly messy (H/C) locks of (Y/N).

„I told you that you don't need to run~ you might slip and hurt yourself as you did that time...“

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows together, cheeks tinting pink. That time, she was running through the hallways to find the devil himself. Well, the females search was successful. She managed to slip and bump right into him, sending them both onto the hard wooden floor, earning an earful afterwards from the cult followers who witnessed the whole fiasco.

„I've been more careful since then though !“

The male laughed at her reaction. It was always interesting to watch her flustered face and her movements along with it. Patting the spot next to him, he invited her over to enjoy the scenery of the garden and the cold breeze of the wind. She quickly sat down, back facing him as he took out a comb from one of his pockets.

It became a daily ritual for him to brush her hair after she arrived, since it always looked all over the place from her running. A time where both of them could have their peace from the loud city or from the other members. A small moment of recharging.

(Y/N) started to humm a small melody while she patiently sat besides the cult leader, while the man himself couldn't help but smile slightly. Admiring the soft touch of her hair against his fingers. He carefully inched closer to her neck and gave it a quick kiss, before leaning back again once he heard her shriek of surprise. Holding up his hands in defence, he couldn't hold back his chuckles at the entertaining ruckus she gives him. He earned some gentle smacks with the fan which the girl brought along with her. Cheeks puffed out and brught red.

Once she stopped she sighed and put her hands down on her lap, looking at the leaves which were swaying with the light wind. Douma followed her gaze but caught himself stealing some looks at the female next to him intead. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her against his chest. Surprisingly enough, he was not poked and shoved back. Feeling his company ease up against him.

.

.

.

„You should move into the mansion.“

„Huh ?“

„You wouldn't need to run here. We could enjoy the view even at night! It looks beautiful with the fireflies. I could comb your hair everyday. We could fold other paper figures~“

„You know that I can't do that...because-„

„Because of your sick mother, I know...“

Douma sighed and rubbed his temple. For a while now, you have been taking care of your ill mother since your father passed away. He knew your hardships and saw your bruised hands and legs from carrying the heavy vegetables everyday to sell them on the market. Just so you could earn some more yen to get both of you through life. And as disgusting and inhumane it sounded, he was wishing for your mother to finally pass away and free you from your slavery. He could offer you more. Anything you would wish for, it would be there in mere seconds. Yet you declined all of his offers up until now. Refusing to live life easy.

It made him frustrated but he respected your decision. Honestly, he couldn't care less as to what you make out of your life...right ? It should be like that but he still seems to grow annoyed by the constant rejection. Don't humans usually go for the easiest way ? Why wouldn't you do the same. Why were you so stubborn. A contrast to his usual followers.

„As you wish, my lotus~“

She sighed before poking him in the side, earning no reaction whatsoever.

„Here, I made this fan for you since you seem to hate the heat so much.“

Pulling away from the embrace, (Y/N) pulled out a beautiful golden fan.

„For our wonder and blessing, Douma-sama~“ copying one of the desperate cult members voice, she held out the item and bowed down deeply.

Douma chuckled and gently picked up the fan, answering in a mocking royal voice.

„I am grateful for your generous offering, my lost lamb. May you find happiness~ you may raise your head now.“

Placing a hand ontop of her head, he could feel the shaking of her body which came from the laughter she tried to hold back.

The wind chimes ringed with the gentle breeze which was traveling through the garden and another day ended with (Y/N) heading back home.

The next day, Douma was surprised to be alone in the garden. As well as the following. And the other.

2 weeks passed and he hasn't heard anything of (Y/N). But when he did, it was not a pretty sight for him to see. Her hands and cheek were swollen with bruises, she was dirty, her once beautiful (H/C) locks looked like a total mess.

Apparently his wish became true.

After (Y/N) arrived at home that night, she was met with the terrible fate of discovering her mother brutally murdered. It was a horrific sight. To her dismay, she met face to face with the attacker and almost got killed herself. Almost. If it wouldn't have been to the swordsman who beheaded the monster inches away from of her face.

The shock from losing her last family member and for almost having her life pulled away from her grasp, let her fall into sadness and fear. She couldn't move or eat for days. This also meant that she couldn't pay for her necessities in time, bringin the owner of the fields and house, home to her and beating her for the refusal of work over the time span. Taking away all left over possessions she was left with. Without a roof over her head or a job to feed her, she didn't know where to go or what to do. Once she snapped out of her trance, she found herself infront of the gates of the cult mansion and broke down into tears when she was met with the face of Douma.

The members helped her clean up and cutting her hair. Sadly it was so messed and clogged up that brushing wouldn't help. Which ended up with her hair becoming a bon cut. The bruises were bandaged and taken care of, in hopes that they won't leave permanent marks on her skin.

Once night arrived, (Y/N) made her way silently to the garden. Plopping down on the spot she usually sat on with the cult leader. Gazing at the small glowing dots which danced through the petals and leaves.

„It really does look beautiful...“ she whispered, not sensing the presence of Douma behind her.

He sat down next to her and looked at her face. It felt empty. Her sparkling eyes completely dull. Her voice drained of joy. Raising up his hand to touch her head, the impact of his touch resulted in a flinch and the girl backing away from him a bit.

„A-ah, I apologize...I was in thoughts...“

She tried to crank up a smile but it looked horrible. It felt as if everything bright and beautiful was taken away from him the second he saw her today. Attempting to show some kind of comfort he wrapped his arms around her smaller frame. Careful not to put pressure on the wounds and blue spots on her flesh.

„You will be well here...I will give you anything you want or need. You won't face any more fear. You will be safe. I will make sure of it.“

He felt her shaking, not from laughter this time though. Her sobs filling the silence of the safe haven they built up together. A beautiful summer night, yet it was so ugly.

The following weeks, Douma tried to fulfill any wish the female had. He would make his followers bring her the sweetest treats, the most beautiful kimono to wear, bringing her a fresh bouquet of flowers to decorate her room. To his frustration, nothing seemed to bring the smile back he was always curious about. The spark which brought him calm. Nothing of it surfaced, remaining shut inside of the shell which created them.

His actions seemed to have brought the dismay of his followers as well. Many females and males complained about his bias towards the (H/C) girl. He brushed them off, assuring them that he was just trying his best to recreate the happiness which the girl lost. But it didn't seem to work. Soon enough, certain members started to push her around, ignoring her or talking behind her back. Spreading rumours and untasteful remarks.

It seemed that it affected the male more than her as she was only sitting outside the garden, watching the scenery with an empty stare.

As days went on, (Y/N) seemed to become ill. Becoming weaker and weaker with every sunrise which followed. Soon, she was not being found outside but laying inside her room with the shoji door open, to bring some fresh summer wind into the square which caged her in.

The silverette made sure to visit her with each day. Bringing her the nutrients she needed along with the medicine which was prepared by his cult members.

„Douma...I'm grateful for the time we spent. Even though my life was not painted in colors...but whenever I saw you and spent time in the garden, it was filled up with them and brought me peace.“

Before he could respond, he was cut off by the female once again.

„I am aware that you cannot feel as I do. Or see as I do. Hate and greed, happiness and love. Those are emotions you do not possess. Maybe you never did. But let me confess you my love, at least now before I pass...“

Her voice was raspy and very quiet. If he didn't lean in closer to her, he would have barely caught what she tried to tell him.

(Y/N) proped herself up shakily, Douma helping her up as good as he could since he was clearly unsure how he could aid her. Once she somewhat sat up, she leaned against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. She was aware of his lack of emotions. Even from the early childhood days, yet she still grew to love him. No matter how empty and cold he was.

Pressing her soft lips against his cheek, she gave him a small peck before succumbing back into his arms.

Her last breaths were decorated with a genuine last smile she gifted the male, on his way through life without her. A talisman.

He burried her in the garden, next to the pond. Where she would remain one of his beloved lotus flowers. She was the reason why he grew to like them. And after the harsh winter and the visit of Kibutsuji, they were the only flowers which survived and stayed in the garden with him through all these years. The first and last memory of his humanity for a good while.

So fleeting. Like a rainbow after a summer rain.

——————

This was one of the two requests I received ! The next one will be another Zenitsu x Reader :) thank you for the love !

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.81

Lance was silently fuming in his grave. He’d lost his temper with his friends, and now he’d exiled himself to the backyard to avoid them. He didn’t want to be mad at them, but when they pulled stupid shit and made jokes over becoming a vampire, he couldn’t cope. Coming home to a home that kind of no longer felt like his was bad enough. He’d hoped that what Matt wanted to show him was him kicking Pidge’s arse at some video game and Matt was simply making fun of him. Not this. Not some half baked idea of investigating Lotor. Rieva had been so scared they’d been forced to return to Platt, and now she was happily conspiring with Pidge and Hunk, like that fear didn’t matter. There was a reason hunters existed. They took care of things like this. Not two werewolves and two humans who’d only just found out that things really do to bump in the night. He wanted his life back. He wanted things to go back to hunting dumb ghosts and the occasional yucky feeling of death when they did. Why couldn’t they understand how he felt? He shouldn’t have lost his stupid temper, but being a vampire wasn’t something to joke about.

Being the light of his undead life, Hunk was the one who came to talk to him. Shovelling off Lance’s death dirt, Lance faked death until Hunk made it impossible to ignore him

“Lance... I don’t know if you can hear me... but... Can we talk, buddy? I’m not used to this... You look dead in there and I don’t like how it feels seeing you dead”

That was the nicest thing Hunk had said in ages. That he didn’t like seeing Lance laying in his shallow grave

“I’m not changing my mind”

Hunk sighed, Lance hearing the way his clothes rustled as his friend sat heavily, just short of where he’d dug Lance up

“I don’t like this either... but Pidge wanted to help... and she needs someone there to keep her grounded”

Hunk was good at that. Provided Pidge was still listening and not swept away in an investigation

“She needs to leave it alone before she ends up dead”

“But you’re dead... and you’re okay?”

He wasn’t okay. He’d just gotten very good at existing

“I’m not going to watch her go through what I went through”

“What... I mean, you totally don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I guess... maybe I don’t see the problem with you being a vampire”

Hunk wouldn’t. He saw the absolute best in everyone. Even when they didn’t see it in themselves, he kind of... brought it out of you. Lance couldn’t tell him. He didn’t want Hunk to pity him. He’d barely been able to tell Matt without Keith’s support

“I... I can’t tell you. I can tell she should fear being a vampire. If Pidge was turned, she’d never be the person we know again. That’s if she kept her mind”

“But you... kept yours? You’re not secretly a serial killer are you?”

Lance could almost see Hunk worrying his pointer fingers together

“No. I was turned young. Too young... My mind and body were more flexible. When we get older we get set in our ways. Our sense of self evolves as we grow. That’s the secret to keeping your sanity. It’s holding onto every little bit of humanity you can find”

“That had to be rough... I...”

Hunk was so pure he wasn’t seeing the truth

“You don’t know what to say. You’re cautious. I can hear the way your heart beats increased. I did everything I could to keep you out of this. But that all went up in flames in an instant. Yeah. I knew Matt was a werewolf before he came back. I prayed Pidge wouldn’t find out... and look what that got us. A whole lot of awkwardness and mistrust. You guys can talk and laugh about it because you’ve never seen a vampire properly. You’ve never seen humans paraded around as fresh meals on a lead. You’ve never felt hunger that robs you of your sanity. Pidge only saw a sliver and you were there to witness what that did to her. This isn’t a game and we can’t just drink slushies to feel better after a bad hunt. A bad hunt means you’re dead. Throat torn out for the fun of it... if you’re lucky. If you’re unlucky... it’s not a quick death”

If you’re unlucky you turn out like Adam, but that wasn’t Lance’s secret to share.

Hunk fell silent. Lance’s hearing not good enough to hear the metaphorical cogs kicking over. It was a long moment before Hunk replied

“You’re right. We don’t understand. It scared me when Matt suddenly showed us his wolf. I don’t know how to cope with any of this. I can’t even tell Shay and she totally thinks I’m flaky”

That wasn’t fair. Hunk was only flaky in the sense he was like a warm croissant

“I know. Since I met you guys... I... I was scared. I’ve never had friends as close as family before. I’ve never loved having people around like I love you and Pidge. I’ve spent my adult life trying to atone for what I am. Realistically I should have died when I was a kid. I never enjoyed lying. My ego never thought I was better than you. If anything I envied you both. You both grow old. You grow old and fall in love. You make families and you know love. When you don’t age you get to watch everyone you love grow older and die before you. I love you guys warm and breathing...”

“I don’t think Pidge is going to give up. Her... um... dad... he like knows about this kind of thing. And her mum... she’s pretty mad at both of them”

That made sense. Kind of... He’d thought Colleen and Sam had some sense that he wasn’t human. Though how they knew hunters wasn’t as clear. Platt was a big place. Most vampires and werewolves knew how to keep their heads down when they really needed to

“I love her. I love her and I don’t know if I can support this. I can barely support Keith and he’s been a hunter for years now. I don’t... I spent a long time not being part of that world for a reason. Nothing good ever comes out of it”

“Keith did...”

Touché. Keith and Shiro... they were a different kind of hunter. Eyes opened by personal tragedy that should have left them blood thirsty

“Keith... with him... it’s different. He feels like... he feels like he’s been our friend for years. He was really hurt over what happened. He’s not the best with social cues and friends. He’s been through so much and I was so happy that you guys wanted to be friends with him”

“He’s... nicer then when we met him”

“That’s because he was convinced I was a blood sucking monster that fed on you as you slept”

“That doesn’t make me feel good”

“Relax. I swear I never ever fed on either of you. I had blood bags, and I never wanted to. I wanted to be human”

“Is there a way to cure vampire-ism? Is it “ism?”. Do you guys have like a preferred term?”

“I’m fine with whatever. But no. There’s no cure. I’m as dead as I can be without being in a hole in a ground”

“Dude, you are literally in a hole in the ground”

Touché again. He was kind of cold buried up to his shoulders... His poor death soil hadn’t been taken care of at all. Stupid dandelions had invaded... He’d always kept the garden so meticulous

“I know... Hunk, I don’t know what to do”

“I don’t know what to do either, bud. What would Keith say?”

“I don’t think he’s talking to me. I told him I was coming back here today and he didn’t reply”

“Oh, man... I’m sorry... I didn’t know you two were...”

Two were what? Fighting? Lance thought they’d made up...

“I don’t think we’re fighting... he just normally answers or he’s working... or sleeping. Shiro did get slightly drunk last night”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep. Curtis finally took him on a proper date”

“Like in public?”

“No. They went to this underground vampire fighting ring that serves great wings. Yes, in public. Just because Curtis is slightly cursed doesn’t really mean anything”

Lance could hear Hunk scratching the back of his head

“Dude. Relax. I’m joking. Curtis’s curse doesn’t mean he can’t go out and enjoy himself with Shiro. He styled his hair to hide his horn”

“So like curses and magic are real? That’s a real thing?”

“Yeah. I only found out about it not that long ago. Curtis used to be a hunter. I suppose he still kind of is, but he works for Coran now”

“Like you work for Coran?”

Hunk was curious, yet kind of freaked. Lance could hear it in his voice. He’d come out here for peace, but instead found himself having a much needed talk with Hunk

“I don’t work for Coran. Coran takes care of like all the supernaturals and hunters in Platt. I’ve known him since I was turned. He helped me and my family out a lot with adjusting to me being the undead”

“So if anything goes wrong...?”

“I go to Coran. He’d welcome you guys too. He’s heard all about both of you”

“I don’t know how that makes me feel”

“Nothing bad. Just... you guys really mean a lot to me. You’re not the first humans I’ve been friendly with, but you’re the most important people in my life to date. And Keith. I didn’t even tell him I was coming back today. I messaged him... but he didn’t reply...”

Silence fell between them again. Lance content to let Hunk take his time, which he did, before finally starting to talk again

“Lance. Is there a reason you left Platt? If you were happy there... you could have stayed to be with Keith if you’d wanted”

“I was in Platt because Rieva was concerned for our safety with Lotor around. Lotor comes from a really bad family. Like worse than every vampire movie you’ve seen put together. His mother’s worse than Elizabeth Bathory. Hell, she probably got her twisted ways from her...”

“Or from pop culture”

Lance shook his head, sending dirt across his face. That was the trouble with burying himself. Maybe it was time to invest in a nice body bag, or a proper coffin to keep the dirt out

“She’s been alive longer than pop culture has existed. If Lotor suddenly proclaimed she was Elizabeth, I don’t think I’d actually be surprised”

“Is she really that bad?”

“Rieva didn’t tell you? The woman’s got a screw loose up there. More like she’s walked into a hardware store, pulled every packet of screws off the shelf, opened them all, then thrown them everywhere as she then bosses the staff into cleaning up the mess she’s left”

“That doesn’t sound good”

It sounded like a total chaotic shit show. Kind of like how the Blades conveniently marched to the beat of their own drum

“Not particularly. Bud, I know you always see the good in people, but you need to see Honerva isn’t a person. Those invisible lines the of law that keeps us in line doesn’t apply when you’re that powerful. Going after Lotor could bring that madness down on all of you. Not just us, but everyone you love. I’m so happy you and Shay finally started dating, and I’m not telling you to choose but if you ever feel you have to, then please choose her. You two are so perfect for each other. I want to see you grow old together... I want you both to be happy”

Hunk sighed heavily

“I... don’t know if I can ignore what’s happening... I don’t want... I don’t want to see people hurt because I wasn’t brave enough to do something”

Because Hunk loved his friends as fiercely as Lance loved them

“Then... then I don’t know. But don’t chase anything. I can let Keith know, or Coran, but I can’t lose you, even if it makes you hate me. The world is a better place for having you and Pidge in it... always remember that. I’m going to take a nap out here”

Moving seemed like effort. Inside smelt like werewolf. The gremlin was cranky. Here seemed as good as any spot to wallow

“You’re going to take a nap?”

Hunk sounded surprised. Then again, he wasn’t used to Lance napping in the ground. Lance wasn’t used to Lance napping in the ground, but the soil felt kind of reassuring

“It’s fine. I spent three months making this soil. It’s actually good for me. Helps promote healing all that... I’ll be okay”

“I don’t like leaving you in there alone”

Lance snorted, mentally imagining Hunk trying to climb in beside him

“I’ll be okay. Just don’t let Matt pee on me. I think I need some me space”

“Should... should I cover you back up?”

“If you want to. I’m pretty cozy in here”

“But... don’t you need to breathe?”

“Eventually. I breathe. But I can also hold my breath a ridiculous amount of time”

“Dude... that’s so weird”

“Welcome to having a friend who’s a vampire. Seriously though. I really love you guys. I want to be here with you... I... Thanks for coming to check on me. I know this isn’t easy for you”

“Well... like... you know... we’re like best friends... right?”

“Best friends forever, buddy”

** I can’t help it. I love our boy interacting with his besties and being friends again**

[theshipsfirstmate]

Punisher Fic: I Found Peace in Your Violence (Can’t Tell Me There’s No Point in Trying)

Post-1x10 & 1x11 Kastle feels. That night, Karen finds herself standing in her kitchen, staring at a terra cotta pot of white roses.

A/N: HI I’M NEW AND KASTLE IS KILLING ME. Anyway, full disclosure: I have only watched select scenes of Daredevil, and Punisher (aka the Kastle scenes, essentially), and mostly-watched Defenders S1. But I love these two and I needed them to kiss, so I wrote a thing. It’s not any deeper than that (even though it got very out of hand), so please forgive any massive errors or oversights.

Title from “Silence” by Marshmello feat. Khalid, because it really screams Kastle to me rn.

I Found Peace in Your Violence (Can’t Tell Me There’s No Point in Trying) (wc: 3644 - AO3)

That night, when she finally gets home after a few hours of questioning, she's almost robotic with exhaustion. She goes through the motions, changing out of one more set of clothes ruined by the smell of smoke and blood and panic, using scalding hot water to shower off yet another brush with death, taking her first real, deep breaths in what feels like days. An hour or so later, she finds herself standing in her kitchen in her pajamas, staring at a terra cotta pot of white roses.

They’re fake — she could tell the second he dug them sheepishly out of his bag — but still, Karen wonders if Frank meant for her to keep them. She wonders if he meant to give her something so permanent. “I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy,” he had said, with a look on his face that was nearly a smile, and her foolish heart had skipped a beat in the pause before he explained the true purpose of the plant.

When he turned to leave that night, she had practically lept into his arms -- she almost has to laugh at the absurdity of taking The Punisher by surprise -- grabbing a hold of him tight. With two hands, her mind echoes. She remembers how they had swayed in the quiet warmth of her kitchen, how his arms spanned her back when he tightened the embrace, how it had felt, for just a fleeting second, so much like a normal moment between two people with normal lives.

She's thought a lot about that hug in the weeks that followed, sometimes with the burning flush of embarrassment on her cheeks, sometimes with the hot sting of tears. She hadn’t been sure at the time, or for a long time after, exactly what -- or who -- it was all about. Was it because of how impulsive she was with him, or the way his guard dropped around her? Was it his death wish or her newly-heightened sense of mortality? His angels or her demons?

Maybe it wasn’t even about them at all, some part of her brain that sounded a lot like Foggy had offered one time. Maybe it, like so many other things, was really about Matt. Maybe it was about the way Frank had smirked at her over a cup of coffee once, and told her -- like he knew better than she did -- how in love she was. Maybe it was more about the devil who died a hero, than those left behind in hell.

But maybe not.

Tonight, she picks up the pot of roses, and only when she hears the ceramic base rattle against the countertop does she realize her hands are shaking. She blames the end waves of the shock that's been coursing through her system for hours, and tries telling herself it has nothing to do with Frank Castle, that she might as well just toss the flowers down the chute because it'll be months again before she has to worry about him.

But it’s exhausting lie, and one she finds herself too weary for on a night like this. So instead, she thinks about Frank's forehead pressed against hers -- one moment of peace in this vividly traumatic day -- and she walks the roses across the room. She remembers the look in his red-rimmed eyes and sets the pot on her windowsill. Her rational mind catches up eventually, but still she leaves them there, crossing back to the kitchen and saying a silent prayer that he’ll return to her as readily as he did the last time.

Everything’s still right at the surface -- the icy terror that had sunk in when she realized he wasn’t following her out of the kitchen and away from the bomb, the solid warmth of his hands cradling her head after the world exploded around them, the agonizing sight of him climbing that elevator shaft with barely one good arm between the two. Karen's convinced that she just needs to see him to settle this turbulent feeling in the pit of her stomach.

It takes him less than an hour to call. She tries not to let herself think too hard about everything else that means.

“You okay?” She should have known not to expect pleasantries. His voice is Punisher-low, and it throws her off long enough to make him worry. “Karen?”

“I'm fine, Frank. Sorry, I--” It’s the worst possible time to find herself tongue-tied, but she can’t help it. They didn’t say goodbye earlier, not really, and the sound of his voice, clear and strong and alive, whites out her brain for a few blissful seconds.

“The flowers.”

“Yeah.”

“A mistake?” Something of a loaded question.

“No.” She silently curses at herself when she realizes she's blinking away frustrated tears. “I just… Can I see you?”

“I, I don’t--” His voice sounds pained for a brief moment and then he goes quiet for what feels like a very long time. “It’s not safe.”

She lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Okay.” She can't see his face, but she's so sure he wants to say yes. It might be the only thing keeping her from falling to pieces. “Okay.”

“Karen.” He puts so much into those two syllables of her name. He tells her an entire story in five letters -- and one she’s heard before, no less -- about how this thing only ends in an inferno.

“It doesn’t have to be tonight.” She’s trying desperately not to sound desperate, but there’s no time to appreciate the irony. “Just, when it’s safe. Whenever. Please.”

He doesn't answer, but she can hear him taking shallow breaths on the other end of the line. She wonders where he is, what blood-soaked new steps have been added to his list of plans. She wonders if he has the same look in his eyes that he did in the elevator. She wonders, if he was standing in front of her again, if he would lower his eyelids and tip his head to the side, just slightly.

“Frank?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Okay.” She sighs out a rush of relief, and hears something rustle on his end. “Please be careful.”

He hangs up after a gruff but similar sentiment, and Karen thinks that’s another one of the ways they say the things that can’t be spoken out loud.

Despite his agreement, she spends most of the next day going stir-crazy in her apartment -- on a temporary leave from work that Ellison had made clear was not up for discussion -- doing research and doubting she’ll ever see him again. It's become a bit of a habit for her, wondering with every half-goodbye if this time will be the one that makes them wish they had gone all in on whatever it is they're gambling.

She’s smart enough to know the danger didn’t die with Lewis, and now the whole city’s calling for Frank’s life too. The knot in her abdomen laces itself tighter with every article she reads.

Mercifully, he doesn't keep her waiting long. Just after one a.m. -- she’s sitting on her bed with her laptop, putting off the nightly struggle to close her eyes and keep them shut for any meaningful amount of time -- there’s a tap on the window by her fire escape. Karen barely even flinches, crossing to undo the latch and meeting his eyes through the thick glass.

“It’s still not safe,” Frank says before she has a chance to speak, sliding inside and looking her up and down. She’s suddenly very conscious of her sleepwear, even though it's a relatively modest zip-up and shorts. “Sure you're okay?”

She almost laughs in spite of herself at his concern, given the fact that he very nearly took another bullet to the brain less than 48 hours ago. “Yes, Frank, I swear. I -- are you okay?” He looks like hell, with an impressive collection of cuts and bruises, some of which appear to be worryingly fresh.

“I thought maybe it was--” He ignores her and then trails off, eyes darting around the room. She realizes he's sweeping the place. “Maybe it was something you couldn’t say over the phone.”

God, Karen thinks, what a pair they make. She looks at him and sees a dead man walking. He looks at her and sees a hundred ways to get her killed. Her hands itch with the need to touch him. “Thank you,” she practically whispers when his eyes finally make it back to hers, “for coming.”

Because all that tragedy doesn’t do anything to stop this pull between them. It didn’t stop his lips from finding her cheek that night by the river. It didn’t stop him from jumping in front of another bullet meant for her, and it didn’t stop her from rushing back towards a bomb he’ll be blamed for. It doesn’t stop them from reaching for each other when they should be running for their lives.

And it doesn’t stop him from showing up at her window just one night after he told her it was too dangerous. Even worse, once Frank’s certain she’s not in immediate physical danger, his eyes go sad and earnest. “I'm sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.”

She can’t help it then, looping her arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him close. He responds in kind, banding his arms around her back like they have before in this same space, but he seems wholly unprepared for when she turns, almost unconsciously, to press a kiss just above his ear -- where the thin red beginnings of a scar remind her, in centimeters, exactly how close she came to losing him.

Frank freezes in her arms, pulling back enough to meet her eyes with a questioning look that breaks her heart in a familiar way.

“I’m sorry.” She’s not, but she says it anyway, shuffling her feet nervously. “I just needed to…”

To see you. To touch you. To make sure that what’s left of your soul didn’t spill from your temple in that elevator shaft.

She remembers, in the moment yesterday, wondering how he was possibly standing with a head wound like that. She remembers swallowing down bile later, when she heard Madani tell one of the agents at the scene how Billy Russo grazed him as he ran down the stairs -- towards her. It’s been cleaned and stitched up now, but there's still something to the primal impulse she’d had to press her lips to his cheek, to stain her mouth red and tacky, to taste his pulse on top of his skin.

Tonight though, her chaster instinct has stopped them in their tracks -- Frank’s hands are warm but completely still on her waist while his eyes flicker down to her mouth. He doesn’t move, and she doesn’t have an end to the sentence she started. “I just needed to.”

She watches his throat work, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows what might be answers to the questions she's too afraid to ask. His hands come up to trace her own battle wounds, far less severe than his, as evidenced by the effort it takes him to lift his right arm. But he’s overwhelmingly tender when he frames her face, brushing a calloused thumb over the cut on her forehead, and she takes in a shaky breath.

“Christ, Karen. I tried to tell you.” He's gruff but not angry. In fact, there's something in his voice that she's never heard before. “How many times I gotta say it? I can’t have you in this with me.”

She bristles and pulls away from his hands, enough that he drops them back to his sides, and his eyes to the floor. “I’m in it, Frank. Like it or not.” She understands it’s his protective instinct, but this is not a conversation worth entertaining, not when every second is so valuable to them right now. “I was in the woods with you. I was in that kitchen. I was in that elevator.”

He shudders, and she wonders if it’s the thought of pressing a gun to her chin. She remembers how his eyes had gone black when she suggested the move, how he had spent precious time insisting there was another way. Mostly, she remembers how he was shaking so violently behind her that she was worried he was going to blow their whole cover.

In the end, they had settled for removing the clip from the gun, but even over the heart-pounding tension of the standoff, she could feel him hating every moment.

“I just want you to be safe.” This is why she can't trust anyone who only sees Frank as a killing machine, Karen thinks, the terror that fuels him is so clearly etched across his face. Her heart cracks when his voice does. “I need you to be safe.”

“I’m safe right now, right this second,” she offers wryly. “Maybe that’s all we can ask for, anymore.” It’s mostly a joke, but he flinches again. She reaches out to gently pull his right arm to her, checking the spot where the shrapnel had been embedded. He’s all patched up, though, so she traces her way down and tangles their fingers together. It’s a loose hold, but he doesn’t let go or pull away.

“I wanted to stay with you in that elevator.” She looks up when he speaks, but his eyes are focused on their intertwined hands. “If you hadn't told me to go, I would have... I wanted to--”

“I know.” Her words come out heavy, bringing forth the tears in the back of her throat. He takes a few sharp breaths and continues.

“I can't afford to make those kinds of mistakes, Karen.” His hand squeezes hers and she wonders if he meant to do it. “Not with what’s coming.”

You let me know if you find a way to shut it off. That’s what she wants to say. Instead, she just repeats herself, somehow even heavier. “I know.”

He sighs and looks up at her for just a second, before averting his gaze. “I don't know how many more ways I can prove I've got nothing left to offer you.” One step forward, two steps back. Karen furrows her brow and tells him the truth he won’t let himself hear.

“I’m not asking you for anything, Frank.” She tries to keep her tone sharp, but ruins it with a sniffle, and he looks like the sound physically pains him. “I just wanted to see you. It's not wrong to want things.”

His nostrils flare at her final words, and she prepares herself for a gruff reprimand on why she’s got it backwards. But that’s not what he tells her at all. “I haven’t wanted anything in a long time,” he admits, with an emphasis on the word that sparks something low in her gut. “But I did yesterday.”

He doesn't tell her any more. He doesn’t have to, Karen’s breath catches at the sense memory. If she closes her eyes, she’s certain she'll still be able to feel the diamond-plated steel up against her back, the almost that he left on her lips.

But she can’t look away from his gaze, not any more than she can stop herself from asking, “And today?”

Frank nods, so softly and imperceptibly that she’s not even sure he knows he’s done it. It’s a nod like the one he gave her when she finally found the right wire on Lewis’ bomb. The metaphor practically writes itself.

He tugs on her hand and takes one step closer, putting them almost toe-to-toe. She stands her ground. She can feel the atmosphere get lighter once they’re sharing it, can feel every cell in her body magnetized in his direction -- but he has to be the one to pull the trigger. He’s in control, not because he's The Punisher, but because he's a man who's lost everything, more than once over. She won’t be another person who takes more than he's offering.

So she asks one more question. “What about tomorrow?”

“I’m going on the record for Madani first thing tomorrow,” he murmurs, tipping his forehead down to hers once again, so close she can feel the warmth of his words on her lips. “I don’t know what happens after that.”

It's intentionally vague, and she understands why. From Karen’s perspective, the Homeland agent seems trustworthy enough so far, but she knows as well as Frank does that there’s a chance he doesn’t even make it in the building for that testimony. Or out again afterwards.

“Frank--” She wants to lie and say it'll all be fine. She wants to tell him the truth about how proud she is. But her eyes have fluttered closed and his lips are on hers the second she says his name. One kiss, then two, until she’s losing count. True to his unspoken word, the flames between them roar to life as soon as the match is lit.

He smells like gunpowder and sweat, but he tastes like copper and cinnamon, and her eyes snap open and then closed again while one hand snakes around his waist and the other reaches up to stroke his stubbled cheek. He groans into her mouth, low and dark. It sounds like her name.

His lips are softer than they have any right to be. None of it's fair, really, not the way his calloused hands leave goosebumps when they skim down her sides, not the way her knees wobble when he pulls her flush against him, not the way he kisses her like it’s salvation. And especially not the way her heart thuds painfully when she realizes he's only doing it because he thinks he might not get another chance.

They stumble backwards towards her couch and, without breaking the kiss, he clumsily pulls her down to straddle his hips, anchoring her with warm hands on her waist, fingers curled around the waistband of her shorts. She grinds a little in his lap when he sweeps his tongue across hers, but the groan from deep in his throat calls to attention the rapidly approaching point of no return.

“If there’s anything left when I’m done with all of this…” Frank presses the words to her lips, deep and desperate, as his hands flex on her thighs, “if there is an after--”

Karen kisses him back just to keep him from making promises he’ll have to worry about keeping. Even still, his words deal the shattering blow to that piece of her heart that’s been breaking for him since they met. This is the moment, she knows it for certain. They can slow down and do things the right way, or carry on and let it all turn to ash.

Frank’s following her lead so closely that it's easy for her to drag their kisses to a lazy stop, once she’s able to talk herself into it. He doesn’t pull away completely, just keeps his forehead pressed to hers, palms smoothing softly up and down her legs. “Y’okay?”

“Yes.” She says it because it’s the truth, and when he answers her small grin with one of his own, she feels giddy and triumphant. “But I think, you know...” It’s hard to focus when his hands haven’t stopped moving. “I think we should--”

“Yeah.” he nods and stills, eyes going a little wider. He’s clearly, finally caught up, at least a little. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She gingerly climbs off his lap to a spot beside him on the couch and takes a beat to steel herself before she looks back up. His smile is gone, but in its place is something even more surprising -- something that looks almost like a confession. It lifts a burden off her chest and brings tears to her eyes, and she realizes it’s because she’s always expected that it would be an apology instead.

When she kneels up to steal one last kiss, Frank lets her take two. “Will you stay?” she asks as she pulls back, and the corners of his mouth turn up again. She wants to pinch herself. “Just for a little?”

He wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her close, tucking her up against his side. “C’mere.” For just a second, she flashes back to the elevator again, to reaching out for him when he was just too far away. But tonight Frank’s t-shirt is soft against her cheek, his chest is warm where she rests her hand, and it keeps her here with him. Once he presses a kiss to the top of her head and heaves out a deep, shaky sigh, she starts to drift off to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Karen’s not surprised that he's gone before she wakes, but she is surprised to find herself tucked into bed, a note on her nightstand the only evidence he was ever here. She reads it again and again, pacing the kitchen and eyeing the roses that still sit in the window. It's the most he’s ever asked of her and the most he’s ever promised, all at the same time.

Stay safe, he's scrawled on what looks like a page torn from a paperback book. And then, lower: If there’s anything left, it’s yours.

[etcwrites]

Missing & Unknown

Lancelot Week Day 2 @lancelotweek

Prompt: love/hate

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed

Summary:

Lotor is still new to the alliance and Paladins of Voltron are a touch distrustful. But no worries, Lancey Lance has the perfect solution: A party! (Post S04)

AO3 Link

“Regretfully, I must decline.”

A line appears between Lance’s eyebrows, confusion bleeding into his expression and creasing his otherwise perfect skin.

His immediate response is to ask why?! Why would Lotor decline his proposal?

From every viewpoint, attending a party should make perfect sense. Besides being extremely fun, (because, please Lancey Lance knows how to throw a fabulous party) it creates the perfect opportunity to socialize with allies, solidifying their newly formed alliance and allowing Lotor to gain a little bit of trust.

“Decline?!” he exclaims, voice going high before he could control it. “You realize that half of the alliance distrusts you and the other half hates you, right?”

Lotor doesn’t even blink but still Lance can see how his words hit at the core. The prince must realize his situation as well. With his strategical thinking and innate need to analyze, Lance knows that Lotor perfectly understands the delicate situation that he faces. With barely a month under his belt as the new ally of Voltron (and with the fact that he is Emperor Zarkon’s freaking son) he stands on thin ice.

“I’m aware, Paladin of Voltron.” Lotor replies, voice soft but his chin up, looking almost adorably stubborn.

“No, no,no, no, no stop right there!”

“I apologize-“

“No, it’s fine. Just call me Lance. Not-” Lance grimaces at the formal words. “Paladin of Voltron”

For a second confusion passes through Lotor’s face, elegant brows rising before tension bleeds out his shoulders, slowly transforming into a smile. Albeit not a nice smile, but still a smile.

“Lance…” he repeats, voice pleased, commanding, testing…

A shiver runs down Lance’s spine before he can understand what is happening.

“Uh-“ he stammers, already feeling the color rising to his cheeks. “Yes, so…the party! Uh- I think you should attend, you-”

Lotor leans back on his chair, eyes travelling up and down Lance’s body to finally settle on his face. “I realize this is a personal party, a celebration of a birth date.”

“Yes, a birthday.” He replies, trying and failing to keep the color away from his face. Why does Lotor have to be this pretty and have such a perfect hair?! “But it is hardly an exclusive event. We’ll have ambassadors from the coalition, even a few people from the Blades. And there will be cake and decorations! Oh man, you know Hunk makes a mean chocolate and chocolate chips cake that you can’t even believe your taste buds! And music! Pidge found a way to download songs from her archive so things might get pretty wild, if you catch my drift!”

Lotor makes a contemplative noise at the back of his throat, head leaning against his fist, and a small smile settling across his face as he regards Lance and his nervous rambling. This time the smile looks softer…

“You seem quite excited for this event.”

“Well…yeah.” Lance sobers up and focuses on Lotor. “I want this to work. To achieve peace throughout the universe, we must first get to know each other.”

“Get to know each other?... Indeed…”

“Uh-“ Lance blinks, heart leaping to his throat at Lotor’s suggestive tone. He must be dreaming… “I mean! We must try to understand each other! And, what better way than a party, right?!”

For a second silence hangs between them, time stretching out and filling space. Lance prepares himself for another rejection, the amused smile on prince’s face unhelpful at easing his suspicion. However, when Lotor uncrosses his legs and leans forward into Lance’s space, he is entirely unprepared.

“Such a compelling case,” Lotor murmurs, long hair brushing against Lance’s knees. Then fixing his gaze on the other, he smirks. “Count me in…Lance”

Heat suddenly burns inside his stomach, sucker punching and rendering him speechless for a few seconds. As Lance takes a sharp breath, eyes fleeting across Lotor’s face, the other leans back with fingers linking and a knowing smirk settling across his lips.

“Uh…good! Sure thing!” He mentally shakes himself, rising to his feet in a smooth motion and turning to leave. “I’ll let you know about the details.”

With an affirmative nod from the prince, Lance turns back and moves out, all the while feeling Lotor’s burning gaze down his back.

Strange…

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

“You did WHAT?!”

Lance can see a vine popping across Keith’s temple and wow, does it look malicious, much like Keith’s entire aura right now.

“Hey!” Lance retaliates, indignant and high pitched, because he has pride (and really believes this might help them secure another alliance, but that’s beside the point and it has absolutely nothing to do with how pretty Lotor looked just minutes ago! No! Nope! NOT happening! )

“There is nothing harmful about it, so keep your hackles under control, huh, mullet!”

“We don’t even know his intentions or his agenda!” Keith continues.

“Ahh, yes… I side with Keith on this one, man.  I mean, this is Lotor we are talking about, you know evil crown prince of Galra, massive planner, schemer, because he looks like a schemer… You guys remember how he was always one step ahead of us, right?!”

Lance swallows down his sigh. Of course he knows what Hunk is talking about and he loves his best bud but sometimes the big guy worries too much.

“Guys, relax!” he gestures with his hands, palms turned towards them. “Everything is gonna be just fine. C’mon, it is just a party!”

Keith still looks like he is ready to give him another piece of his mind but Lance swiftly turns towards the mostly silent occupant in the room. “Besides, Pidge is okay with it, and it is her birthday!”

Promptly every other face turns to the girl, who is typing on the transparent tablet. “It’s fine.” she replies nonchalantly, eyes never leaving the screen. Lance opens his arms towards her and gestures as if he is presenting something. “See!”

Now Keith looks constipated and Hunk looks quite a bit sick but Lance is almost convinced he can turn this around and stop the team from harassing Lotor when a shadow lands on four of them, causing every head to turn towards the source.

Over the seats of the common room Shiro stands, looking down at them and for a second Lance thinks he is going to be reprimanded for taking liberties, only to relax as Shiro shares his opinion. “I think we all should try to see this as an opportunity to get acquainted with Prince Lotor and introduce ourselves as well.”

“I agree” As Allura moves to stand next to Shiro, Lance feels a warm feeling settle across his chest. He can only guess what it means to lose all of your family, all of your people and yet, find the strength to overcome your pain and even accept the race that caused such a tragedy.

She is amazing, Lance thinks. More than amazing…

“This is a chance to gain new allies such as Prince Lotor and strengthen our relationships with our existing ones”

“Also,” Lance intervenes, plopping beside Pidge and pulling her close with an arm around her shoulder “to have fun!” Turning to wink at Allura, he smiles brightly. “It is a birthday after all!”

At the corner of his eye Lance can see Pidge sending him a look but up close he also notices the corner of her lips turning up.

“Ah-“ Allura says, suddenly embarrassed. “Yes, you are absolutely right, Lance.” Her voice has gone soft. “It is to have fun as well.”

Across the room Keith’s scowl has no rival. Lance suspects, it is because he is allergic to having fun.

But finally, he thinks ignoring all of that. Something is going right!

Turning back to Pidge, he grins.

“Just leave it to me!”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The party is… a disaster!

Well, probably that is an overstatement but where is the joy if it is not an overstatement!

Still…it is going pretty rocky for Lance.

And, don’t get him wrong, it is not the countless clueless aliens and their preferences towards juuust the right music. It is not the weird, weird gifts gathered around Pidge (seriously who gets a human being a purple acid bomb!).  Strangely… it is not Keith, with his stupid frown and sulking tense expression. It is not even Lotor, who is for the most part calmly nursing his drink beside the bar and basically keeping a low profile.

No! It is Matt and his stupid sibling love!

Lance grits his teeth as Matt once again hugs Pidge close, wide grins plastered across their faces and it is great to see them as happy as this, because a) cute, b) happiness is a treasure in vast freaking space and c) it means the party is amazing and Lance is proud of himself.

But…

It hurts.

Sighing Lance turns his eyes away and quickly excuses himself from the company of a few Balmerans. He seriously needs a drink to take the edge of, fingers clenching into tight fists as he desperately tries to control his feelings.

As he passes through the crowd he can feel longing settling across his chest, a sudden feeling of loss pulling at his heart. For a second his sister flashes in the shadow of Allura, in the way she flicks her hair over her shoulder , the next moment he can see his brother’s smile on Hunk’s face and –

Lance catches sight of Matt and Pidge -

-that warm feeling that surrounds his heart whenever his little cousin hugs him…

Lance turns his eyes away, heart squeezing painfully.

I miss-

No! He can’t deal with this right now. Not in front of all these people, not when it is Pidge’s birthday!

Moving towards the bar, he bypasses the various snacks and immediately reaches for the spiked punch.

Vaguely he is aware of another set of eyes watching him but at this point, he can’t find it in himself to care about anything. Pouring a generous portion, Lance turns towards the exit, the sudden need to be alone almost choking him. He needs space; he needs to be away from happy families, away from reunions, reminders and most certainly birthday parties.

Giving a fake half smile to one of the Olkari representatives, Lance pushes through the crowd, his eyes momentarily catching Lotor’s before turning away.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

In the silence of an empty corridor, Lance leans against the wall, knees folded and eyes focused on the flickering lights scattered across the vast space. He wonders if he will ever get the opportunity to see his family again, to feel his mother’s warm arms, to hear his dad’s joyful laugh…

Space is too large, Lance thinks, pushing at now the empty cup. And Earth is so far away.

The sudden forlorn footsteps pull him out of his thoughts, head reluctantly turning towards the intruder. He really doesn’t want to explain himself to the team, their faces too familiar, too close… And he doesn’t have the strength to pretend for a member of the coali-

As Lotor turns the corner, Lance can feel his brows rising in surprise. In the low light of the corridor Lotor looks divine, regal with perfect skin and piercing eyes…. and entirely out of place.

“Uhm-“ Lance stammers intelligently. “What- why- why are you here?”

One of Lotor’s eyebrows rises, an amused sly expression replacing his neutral one. “As one of your guests, can’t I enjoy the various corridors of your castle?”

Lance can’t help his frown. “That doesn’t even make sense. There is nothing interesting here-“

“You seemed upset”

Lance’s voice hitches at his throat, a lump settling right at the center.

“I’m fine,” he tries, avoiding the other’s gaze and turning his head towards the stars. “Just needed some space.”

Lotor stays silent but takes one more step towards Lance. “Would you mind if I stay here for a while?” Before Lance can complain, the other leans against the wall beside him. “It was getting rather…tense surrounded by coalition forces.”

Sneaking a look, Lance pushes down his sigh. “Sure,” he says. “Though I find that hard to believe. And you should be trying to make friends, not hide in a corridor.”

“Ah!” Lotor murmurs, amusement clear in his voice. “Such a sound advice.”

This time Lance turns to glare up at the prince. “Hey!” he complains “I’m fine! This is just tempor-“

“You were excited for this party, were you not?” Lotor diverts, looking away from Lance and focusing on the stars. “ What changed?”

“Uh- nothing!” Lance exclaims, voice suddenly spiking. “Nothing changed… It is just-“

I miss-

Swallowing he stops, words choking him and his heart breaking under the weight of space, of distance, of endless war. He doesn’t know if he will ever be back, if he will ever see his cousins, his aunts and uncles, his siblings, parents… mom…

Before he can stop himself words tumble between his lips.

“My family…” Lance starts, vision blurring “when I was back home…”

He tightly closes his eyes for a few seconds, forcing himself to calm down, to gain control of his voice. When he reopens them, they are shinning with a new force. “We used to have these huge birthday parties.” He pushes on, voice getting stronger with each word, memories providing strength instead of causing pain, as he continues to share.

“And, ah- everyone came in. The house would be full! My cousins, all of them! They are all younger than me and oh, you should have seen it! When it comes to parties the first year is always the best one!”

Vaguely Lance can feel Lotor sliding down the wall to settle beside him.

“I remember Phillipa! She took her first steps on her birthday, that little rascal! She was adorable, trying to stay upright with her chubby hands grabbing onto the sofa-“

Suddenly stopping Lance bites his lip. Why was he even talking about these things?!...

“I guess…” he admits, voice small and low but finally ready.  “I- I miss them. There is only somethings you can share with your family”

Beside him Lotor hums, though Lance isn’t sure if he understands.

Silence stretches between them, filling up the space and almost becoming deafening.

“Where are your Generals?”

At the sudden question, Lotor’s jaw clenches, his fingers growing tense then gradually, deliberately relaxing.

Lance bites his lip. Abort, abort!, his brain screams at him. “You,” he starts, nervously cleaning his throat. “You don’t have to tell me. I just thought…it was odd.”

As Lance watches, Lotor looks away, eyes searching the endless space. This time the silence that comes between them is oppressive, restricting, almost making it impossible to breathe.

“It was me,” Lotor says, in the end, successfully throwing Lance into a loop.

“You? How so?” Leaning forward Lance rests his head on his palm.

For a second Lotor looks like he might give an honest answer, eyes thoughtful and fingers linked, before his face closes off. “Galra do not have the sentiments you have described.”

“Pffft! I don’t know what you are talking about” Lance argues, letting it go and trying to keep things light. “Keith is half Galra and he is such a ball of sunshine when it comes to friendship.”

Lotor looks unconvinced but soon his features relax as he catches up to the joke.

“But,” Lance continues. “ He still cares…”

The other turns towards the window once again. “I understand he is no longer a paladin.”

A sudden anger rises inside Lance, disappointment squeezing around his heart. Vaguely he realizes this might be a ploy by Lotor to gather more information, to identify their weaknesses and divide the team, but sometimes you gotta give in to get something in return. “He wanted to go another way, yes. But that doesn’t mean-“ A sudden lump clogs up his throat. And he knows he had agreed with the others when Keith asked to join the Blades of Marmora, he knows they had this giant group hug, showing their support and acceptance but still…the thought of Keith leaving -  It still hurts…

“-that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about the team.”

Lotor hums once again, voice soft and contemplative. “Perhaps.” Then turning towards Lance he fixes his gaze on the other. “For Galra, loyalty and sincerity don’t come naturally. We-“  He pauses for a second, expression staying forcefully neutral, before continuing. “Survive… and do anything to ensure our goals, whatever they may be.”

Oh-

“It sounds lonely.”

That wasn’t what Lance had meant to say but once he says it, he can see how true it is. Beside him, Lotor looks surprised and even though it only lasts for a few seconds, it is enough.

Lance pulls his knees towards his chest, linking his long arms around his bent legs. “Whether in the shape of kin, relatives or friends, family is important.” He murmurs, looking at the floor. “They love you and stay with you even though you are not at your best. They are there to support you, to keep you in line, to show you what can be better, how you can be better. And-“

He pushes his lips together, fingers biting into his arms.

“- and I’m sorry you didn’t have the chance to find yours yet.”

When he looks up there is confusion on Lotor’s face as if Lance is an alien life form, hatching right before his eyes and once again Lance waits for that look to turn calculative, even turn into something similar to how he had regarded Lance before the party, amused, flirty, manipulative… But it stays the same.

Cleaning his throat Lance then leans back and shoves Lotor’ arm slightly. “Besides,” he points out, trying to lighten the mood. “You can’t really do worse than Zarkon. The guy literally tried to kill you.” Smiling Lance gives the prince a wink. “You can only go up from there.”

Shock is evident on Lotor’s face, brows raised and eyes wide open but before Lance can try something else to pacify the situation, the other speaks.

“You are a peculiar one, aren’t you?”

“What?! Peculiar? I’m peculiar?! I’ll tell you what Prince Lotor-“

Then suddenly there is a laugh, barely and short but it is a laugh, from Lotor nonetheless.

Lance grows silent, his eyes fixed on the other.

“I apologize” Lotor says his voice loaded with amusement, eyes soft. Then…

“Thank you…Lance.”

A new exciting energy passes through Lance, the way his name sounds in Lotor’s voice causing a shiver to run down his back. However, it is different than before. Now it feels warmer… better.

Lance cleans his throat, feeling color spreading across his cheeks.

The other gives him a half smile, a second later his face slowly closing off and smile turning into a calculating smirk.

But Lance can tell a first step when he sees one.

And for now, he’ll take what he can.

[maitre-kuroneko]

[1. From A Dusty Bookshelf] [2. All That Great Heart Lying Still] “The nightingale is still locked in the cage The deep breath I took still poisons my lungs An old oak sheltering me from the blue Sun bathing on its dead frozen leaves A catnap in the ghost town of my heart She dreams of storytime and the river ghosts Of mermaids, of Whitman's and the ride Raving harlequins, gigantic toys A song of me song in need Of a courageous symphony A verse of me verse in need Of a pure-heart singing me to peace All that great heart lying still and slowly dying All that great heart lying still on an angelwing All that great heart lying still In silent suffering Smiling like a clown until the show has come to an end What is left for encore Is the same old dead boy's song Sung in silence All that great heart lying still and slowly dying All that great heart lying still on an angelwing A midnight flight into Covington Woods A princess and a panther by my side These are Territories I live for I'd still give mt everything to love you more [3. Piano Black] A silent symphony A hollow opus #1,2,3 Sometimes the sky is piano black Piano black over cleansing waters Resting pipes, verse of bore Rusting keys without a door Sometimes the within is piano black Piano black over cleansing waters All that great heart lying still and slowly dying All that great heart lying still on an angelwing [4. Love]* I see a slow, simple youngster by a busy street, with a begging bowl in his shaking hand. Trying to smile but hurting infinitely. Nobody notices. I do, but walk by. An old man gets naked and kisses a model-doll in his attic It's half-light and he's in tears. When he finally comes his eyes are cascading. I see a beaten dog in a pungent alley. He tries to bite me. All pride has left his wild eyes. I wish I had my leg to spare. A mother visits her son, smiles to him through the bars. She's never loved him more. An obese girl enters an elevator with me. All dressed up fancy, a green butterfly on her neck. Terribly sweeet perfume deafens me. She's going to dinner alone. That makes her even more beautiful. I see a model's face on a brick wall. A statue of porcelain perfection beside a violent city kill. A city that worships flesh. The 1st thing I ever heard was a wandering man telling his story It was you, the grass under my bare feet The campfire in the dead of night The heavenly black of sky and sea It was us Roaming the rainy roads, combing the guilded beaches Waking up to a new gallery of wonders every morn Bathing in places no-one's seen before Shipwrecked on some matt-painted island Clad in nothing but the surf - beauty's finest robe Beyond all mortality we are, swinging in the breath of nature In early air of the dawn of life A sight to silence the heavens I want to travel where life travels, following its permanent lead Where the air tastes like snow music Where grass smells like fresh-born Eden I would pass no man, no stranger, no tragedy or rapture I would bathe in a world of sensation Love, goodness and simplicity (While violated and imprisoned by technology) The thought of my family's graves was the only moment I used to experience true love That love remains infintie, as I'll never be the man my father is How can you "just be yourself" when you don't know who you are? Stop saying "I know how you feel" How could anyone know how another feels? Who am I to judge a priest, beggar, whore, politician, wrongdoer? I am, you are, all of them already Dear child, stop working, go play Forget every rule There's no fear in a dream "Is there a village inside this snowflake?" - a child asked me "What's the colour of our lullaby?" I've never been so close to truth as then I touched its silver lining Death is the winner in any war Nothing noble in dying for your religion For your country For ideology, for faith For another man, yes Paper is dead without words Ink idle without a poem All the world dead without stories Without love and disarming beauty Careless realism costs souls Ever seen the Lord smile? Allt he care for the world made Beautiful a sad man? Why do we still carry a device of torture around our necks? Oh, how rotten your pre-apocalypse is All you bible-black fools living over nightmare ground I see all those empty cradles and wonder If man will never change I, too, wish to be a decent manboy but all I am Is smoke and mirrors Still given everything, may I be deserving And there forever remains the change from G to Em”

*Part 4 is not in the video, the album version of this song is 13 minutes long ^^;

[multi-goodness]

My Heart Led Me Back to You

How is everyone holding up? I’m still so broken. Damn writers. Only thing making me feel okay is writing this so here ya go! Enjoy!

-------

Sylvie had no clue on why she was crying, it was just seeing those two teens happy after the tragedy was inspiring. And to be honest, all she wanted to do right now was run to Antonio and tell him they both made a huge mistake. If there was one thing Sylvie learned time and time again with her job was that life was short and at any time they can lose their life. Was this worth it? 

If tomorrow she died, would Antonio say he had no regrets letting her go? Could she say the same? Right now she wasn’t so sure. Her thoughts were interrupted when Gabby wrapped her arm around her shoulder. She let out an embarrassed laugh.

“I have no clue why this is getting to me.” She said sheepishly as she wiped away the tears but they kept threatening to fall.

“Hey, we all had a rough day. Many lives were lost. It’s nice to some see happiness after this senseless tragedy.” Gabby pointed out. But even she can see it was more than that.

“I’m just so tired.” Sylvie said.

“We are all, sweetie. Let’s go home and rest.” Gabby said, not understanding what she meant by that.

“No, Gabby. I mean, I’m just so tired of being sad over the breakup with Antonio. I’m tired of feeling like I’m surviving but not living, you know?”

“So, what are you going to do?” Gabby asked as she headed out of the hospital. “Are you going to try to date?” She questioned.

“Oh no, god no.” Sylvie looked horrified at those words. “The last time I tried to move on, I almost got married.” She said, letting out a chuckle at the memory.

“Well, this time, just try to have fun, not get married, you weirdo.” Gabby said, playfully nudging her with her shoulders.

“Could you do it?” Sylvie asked as she turned her attention to her friend. “When you and Matt broke up, could you move on, knowing that you still have feelings for Matt?” She asked as she got inside the ambulance. Their shift was over, they just had to returned the ambo back to the Firehouse.

“No, I mean, it wouldn’t have felt right. It’s never a good idea to get involved with someone while you have feelings for someone else. Even small feelings, it wouldn’t feel right.” Gabby said, truthfully. “I know this doesn’t make you feel better saying this, but I’m just being honest.” She looked apologetically to Sylvie.

“No, you’re right. You’re absolutely right. As much as I tried to downplay my feelings for Antonio, the fact is I still have deep feelings for him. Which is weird because we only dated for a few months.”

Gabby started the ambulance and she pulled away. “I’m sorry.” Gabby said to Sylvie. “I know I wasn’t always the most supportive person when it came to you both. But in a way, I was trying to save your feelings. But I will say this---let something come out of this tragedy. It may not mean much to others---but let it mean something to you.”

“Are you saying to talk to Antonio?” She questioned, shaking her head. “He made his feelings pretty clear.”

“Antonio has the habit of running at times, running to his work mostly. But remember, he’s hurting from this tragedy also. This may have hit close to home with all of us, but it hit closer to home for him. He worked with Al, he met Lexi, he’s hurting. And the last thing he needs when he puts away the monster, is to go home to an empty apartment.” Gabby parked into their spot and she glanced over at Sylvie. “And that’s all I’d say about this”

Sylvie sat in the ambulance for a few more seconds, letting over what Gabby said. As much as she usually listened to Gabby, right now she couldn’t. She made a promise to herself that she would give Antonio space and let him come to her. It was just the way it had to be.

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

A few hours later, Sylvie heard about the vigil and she really wanted to go. They were always trained that after treating patients that they should forget about it and move on. Drop them off at the hospital and walk away. But when a tragedy hit an entire city, it was impossible to do that. Sylvie wanted to pay her respects, especially after finding out Lexi died. Such a young woman that didn’t deserve to die---hell no one who died deserved to die. 

Her thoughts were on Antonio the entire day, knowing that he may have needed someone to lean on. But she made her decision and this was a decision that she couldn’t sway away from. The last thing she wanted to do was show up at Antonio’s apartment and him looking at her like she was desperate. No way, no hell. 

Before she made it to the vigil, she stopped to pick up flowers. She wasn’t sure what to bring to this, but she wanted to pay her respects. It was the least she could do in this senseless tragedy. As she made it through the people already there, she sighed. As much as she wanted to see Antonio, she hoped she wouldn’t bumped into him. This was already too much for her, just seeing him right now would become too much for her.

She noticed a few people from the firehouse and she made her way over to them. She stood next to Chief Boden and she nodded her head at him. They didn’t say anything to each other, she just placed the flowers down and she stood up. She bowed her head down, saying a few prayers that they find the scumbag that did this to these innocent people and pay for his crimes. She was sure the intelligence team and Antonio and his team would make sure of that.

---------

A few days had passed, and as much as she would have liked to say things were getting back to normal, she wasn’t sure it ever would again. The city would always think of this tragedy and would be apart of them forever, but hopefully soon the guy who did this would be charged and pay for his crimes.

It was finally her day off from work and as much as she would loved to be working while forgetting this tragedy, she needed the break. She needed the peace and quiet and just the thinking to herself. 

When she heard the news about the guy getting charged with murder, she was sure she felt what everyone felt at this moment, she felt relieved. But she also knew as much as everyone was relieved, they also knew deep down inside, this should have never happened. But at least he didn’t get away with it. 

She was heading home from running errands when she looked up at Antonio’s apartment. She wasn’t even sure how she got here, but maybe it was her heart that led her here.

As she stepped out of her car, she realized that she was making a mistake. This tragedy was making her vulnerable and she had to leave. For one, who was to say that Antonio wanted to see her? And for two, this wouldn’t change things. He still had a crazy ex-wife that wanted to make them miserable.

When she turned to head back inside her car, she was stopped by a familiar voice.

“Sylvie?” 

Crap, she thought to herself. She was busted. At least if he was inside his apartment, she could easily get away without it being known that she came. But as she turned around to looked at him, she realized the main reason she came here in the first place. To make sure he was okay.

“Sorry.” She apologized to him. “I mean, I know you’re busy and all...and just got done with a tough case---”

He smiled slightly at her, realizing at this moment how much he truly missed her. “No, it’s fine. I’m just a little confused---why are you here?” Maybe if those words came out of someone’s mouth she would have taken offensive, but noticing the look on his face, it was more curious than anything.

Sylvie shrugged her shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Do you want to come inside? It is pretty cold out here.” He offered.

What could Sylvie say to that? She couldn’t easily say no only because if she did, she would have looked like a stalker. She knew Antonio wouldn’t thought of that, but still.

“Sure. If that’s okay with you?” Sylvie didn’t want to be in the way if he didn’t want any company.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” He nodded his head and he led her into his apartment building. 

The walk to his apartment was silent, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. More like they were trying to process all this. The tragedy and maybe why they were doing this. They knew they needed a break and the first sign of trouble, the first tragedy that happened, and Sylvie ran to Antonio. But why? And why didn’t he tell her this was a mistake? It was all confusing to her, and she could tell he was also confused. 

He unlocked his apartment door and he headed inside. “Sorry for the mess, I haven’t been home really in days.” 

It was funny to her because her definition of a mess was a lot different than his. She couldn’t look at Antonio’s apartment and think of mess. Her apartment on the other hand, yes. While she wasn’t a snob, not by any means, she was also a woman and her clothes made her apartment a mess. 

She laughed. “If in your eyes, this is a mess, please don’t stop by my apartment right now.” She thought making a joke could calm her nerves. How the hell Antonio Dawson still made her nervous was beyond her. 

Antonio smiled at her as he closed the door behind her and locked the door. He took off his coat and he hung it up in the closet. “I’m sure it isn’t that bad.”

“Maybe not.” She agreed as she walked over to his couch and sat down. It felt strange being here since the last time she was, they were happy together and Laura didn’t ruin things yet. 

“So, I know I should have called before I came. I really don’t know how I got to your apartment.” She admitted truthfully. “I heard about the case and everything---and I know it must have been hard on you. So---” Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure if she sounded weird or whatever, since they were broken up. They weren’t even friends right now---she didn’t feel like it anyway. It was too soon to try to become friends.

“You came to check on me then?” He questioned as he sat down next to her on the couch. They were sitting far apart on the couch, but it was the closest they have been since their breakup.

“I guess, yes.” Did she have that right? Not really. But as she looked around the apartment, she could tell that he would have came home alone tonight and with the tragedy, the last thing he needed to be was alone.

“I’m fine, Sylvie. Really.” He couldn’t help but smile, knowing that she was worried for him. His face then turned serious. “How are you doing?” He questioned.

“I’m fine, Antonio. Really.” She repeated the words back at him. 

He let out a laugh. “Smart ass.” 

She was glad that it wasn’t awkward that she showed up here. But then she thought back to the teens who found happiness in such a tragedy. “Sometimes I wonder why I do this, you know? Especially with a tragedy like this. Not being able to save everyone sucks. It always kills me knowing that I couldn’t save everyone. So, I guess because of that, Gabby and I kind of found a cause that made us feel better.” She paused to see if he was even interested in this story, but she noticed his intense gaze on her. It took a few seconds to remember what she was talking about. Damn Antonio Dawson, she thought to herself. “During the fire, Gabby was helping a teenage boy who was asking for a girl in the pink dress. I know, typical Sylvie gushing over this right?” She said jokingly, but she saw him crack a smile at that. “Gabby didn’t know where she was at, naturally we thought--you know?” She was a paramedic and professional at that, but it was still too soon to say the words. “But we later found out that she was in the hospital. Long story short, we reunited them. And I don’t know why--but I just started crying.” She admitted. 

“Probably from the pressure of the day.” He wanted to comfort her so badly, but the last thing he wanted to do was send her mixed signals. He thought they needed a break, to sort out their feelings, but was it worth it? Now, he wasn’t so sure. 

“But that wasn’t even it. I mean, yeah, the day was hard on everyone involved. But that wasn’t what got to me. I guess I just started thinking about us. Or the lack of. I know we both made the decision we needed time apart, and I still agree with it. It’s just hard sometimes.” She shook her head from the thoughts. “Anyway, I’m sure I took enough of your time. I should leave you alone since you’re probably tired.” She said as she stood up but she was stopped by his hands gripping her arm gently.

“I know this may be selfish for me to say--but don’t go. All day today I kept thinking if we did the right thing. Lexi died and she barely lived her life. She was only 19. When I was 19, I felt like my life just started. My point is, if someone as innocent as Lexi can die, so can we. Our jobs are more dangerous than her being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Hey, you aren’t selfish Antonio, you are the least selfish person I know.” She sat down next to him, moving closer to him. “But you’re right. If there is one thing I keep learning over and over again is that life is too short.”

“I just missed you so much.” He confessed as his lips crashed against hers.

Sylvie was surprised of the kiss at first, but it only took a second for her lips to respond, kissing him back. God, how she missed his lips. How she just missed being close to him.

A few minutes later, she pulled away from the kiss. “As much as I would love to continue that kiss, and god I want to. But we can’t until we talk. I can’t let myself get that hurt again. When we broke up, it nearly destroyed me. I was crushed. I just don’t want to go through that again.”

Antonio nodded his head. “I know, Sylvie. I know I can’t go through that again. But I also know I can’t keep doing what I have been doing. Barely sleeping, barely eating, working all the time to keep myself from missing you. You have no idea how many times I almost drove to your apartment, wanting to beg for you back. I made a huge mistake, probably the biggest mistake of my life, when I let you go.”

These were the words she wanted to hear ever since they broke up. She had many dreams about this, and now that it was actually happening, it felt amazing. 

“You never have to beg for me back. It isn’t like you cheated on me or anything.” She almost laugh at her words, because Antonio was a lot of things, but a cheater was never one of them. “I just want to make things work between us.”

“I do too baby, more than you know.” He said as he leaned forward, kissing her again. 

But like before, Sylvie pulled away. This time, she earned a groaned from Antonio. “What is it?” He asked, frustrated.

Sylvie laughed, patting his cheek with her hand. “Hey, stop it. But if you were barely eating before this tragedy happened, then I can guess you barely ate since it happened. So, come on.”

“Come on, where?” He asked confused. “Sylvie, I don’t feel like leaving my apartment right now. And you aren’t leaving either.” 

She found him being bossy hot but she wasn’t about to say that. “No, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going to cook you dinner.” Sylvie walked in his kitchen to see if he had anything in there.

Antonio stood up from the couch and he followed after her. “What? Sylvie, you don’t have to do that. I’m not hungry.”

Sylvie took a deep breath. “Just humor me, okay? I would feel a lot better if you ate.”

“Then let’s order in. You can cook for me some other time.” He said, pleading with her with his eyes. Finally, after what felt like forever, she nodded her head. 

“Fine. But I’m only agreeing to it because you need to go food shopping.”

Antonio laughed and he walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her. “Thank you for coming back to me, baby. I know I can be stubborn as hell and even though I still feel like you deserve better than me, I’m crazy about you.”

Sylvie smiled and she was about to say something when she felt his lips crashed against hers again. She pulled away slightly, placing her hands on his face. “My heart led me back to you. And I have a feeling that it always will.”

Antonio smiled and he leaned back into the kiss, lifting her up in his arms. This sudden movement made Sylvie squealed in surprise. “Antonio, the food!” She would really feel better if she knew he ate something, but truthfully, she wanted him more at this moment than food, than anything else really.

“We’ll eat later, Sylvie.” He smirked at her as he leaned down, kissing her again as he headed straight to his bedroom.

[clobov]

February 2020 is set to see some of the best movies from 2019 hitting the DVD rental service as well as a few other gems in the mix for good measure.

In case you missed any of the January 2020 new additions we’d advise you to head back and check them out. You missed the new Zombieland movie, Parasite (which is securing all the big awards) and Jay and Silent Bob Reboot.

Ford Vs. Ferrari (2019)

Netflix DVD Release Date: February 11th

This movie comes from 20th Century Fox and is about the epic battle that took place during Le Mans 1966.

It stars Matt Damon and Christian Bale and both critics and audiences thought it was superb.

Ford Vs. Ferrari was one of my personal favorites of the year and if you have a good sound system crank it up when watching this.

Fleabag (Season 1)

Netflix DVD Release Date: February 11th

If you’ve been unable to catch Fleabag thus far, now is the perfect opportunity. It stars Phoebe Waller-Bridge who plays the role of a woman trying to cope with a recent tragedy and navigating life in 21st Century London.

If you’d prefer to stream the series, sadly, it’s not on Netflix as the domestic streaming rights were bought up by Amazon.

Maleficent: Mistress of Evil

Netflix DVD Release Date: February 11th

The big Disney release of the month is the sequel featuring Angelina Jolie that is Maleficient.

In the new movie, we see Maleficent and her goddaughter find the meaning of their world coming into question.

Knives Out (2019)

Netflix DVD Release Date: February 11th

It felt like Rian Johnson had a point to prove going into Knives Out after the cloud hanging over his head after The Last Jedi.

It’s safe to say, however, that this movie absolutely knocks it out of the park. The murder mystery movie hits all the right notes with a fantastic ensemble cast that’s incredibly enjoyable. Don’t miss this.

For those unaware, Netflix’s DVD platform (known now as DVD.com) is a video rental platform that serves the US exclusively. Through multiple plans you can rent some of the biggest blockbusters and boxsets of all time. Netflix DVD also has an excellent blog which includes recent entries such as the most rented Martin Scorsese Films.

Now let’s move onto the full list of what’s coming to Netflix DVD in February 2020 and as a reminder, new releases come every Tuesday.

Coming to Netflix DVD on February 4th

Arctic Dogs (2019)

Doctor Sleep (2019)

Dragonheart: Vengeance

Grand Isle (2019)

Keeping Faith: Series 2

Last Christmas (2019)

Masterpiece: Sanditon

Perfect

Playing with Fire (2019)

Serendipity

The Good Liar (2019)

The House That Jack Built

The Nightingale (2018)

Trauma Center (2019)

Villains (2019)

Waves (2019)

Coming to Netflix DVD on February 11th

First Love (2019)

Fleabag: Season 1

Ford v Ferrari (2019)

Maleficent: Mistress of Evil (2019)

Roma (2019)

The Great War (2019)

Wild Nights with Emily (2018)

Coming to Netflix DVD on February 19th

21 Bridges (2019)

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (2019)

By the Grace of God (2019)

Disturbing the Peace (2019)

Frankie (2019)

Jojo Rabbit (2019)

Midway (2019)

Scandalous (2019)

Snatchers (2019)

The Twilight Zone: Season 1

Coming to Netflix DVD on February 25th

Color Out of Space (2019)

End of the Century (2019)

Give Me Liberty (2019)

Knives Out (2019)

Synonyms (2019)

Here’s a quick preview of what’s coming to Netflix DVD in March 2020. Highlights currently include Uncut Gems, Titans season 2 boxset, Spies in Disguise and the latest Charlie’s Angels.

from What's on Netflix http://bit.ly/2NVeiSc

[everettwilkinson]

TRUMP heads to Texas as epic floods continue — POTUS ‘unusually silent’ after top aides challenge him — REMEMBERING MICHAEL CROMARTIE — MICHAEL SCHERER to WaPo — B’DAY: Neil Gorsuch

Good Tuesday morning. PRESIDENT DONALD TRUMP is headed to Texas at 8:30 a.m. to survey the devastation in the wake of Hurricane Harvey. THE PLAN: Trump will arrive in Corpus Christi, receive a briefing, and then head to Austin for a tour of the Emergency Operations Center and a meeting with the state’s leaders.

— UNDER THE DOME: D.C. IS BEGINNING TO TURN ITS ATTENTION to the likelihood that it will have to pass a massive emergency spending bill to help rebuild Houston. It will take a while for Texas and the federal government to fully assess its needs. But President Trump yesterday promised “rapid action from Congress,” not to mention his vow that the water-logged state will be “up and running very, very quickly,” something that emergency managers and Texas officials have pushed back on.

Story Continued Below

A FEW PATHS THE LEGISLATING CAN TAKE, per insiders we’ve spoken to: Congress can provide an initial down payment by passing the first installment of cash for Texas. That would give lawmakers the opportunity to show they’re on top of the situation, while leaving open the possibility that they’d have to pass a second — and larger — bill. This has upsides and downsides. Upside: it shows immediate action. Downside: Congress would have to act twice. It’s hard enough for the institution to do something once.

Another option is to attach a disaster relief bill to a government funding measure. Upside: As long as the bill didn’t include funding for the border wall, this would help ease the passage of a bill to fund the government and could stop a September shutdown. Downside: Any time Congress lops one measure onto another something could go wrong.

**SUBSCRIBE to Playbook: http://politi.co/2lQswbh

— THE REALITY, via Julie Turkewitz in Houston, Richard Perez-Pena in New York and Jack Healy in San Antonio with Dave Montgomery in Austin, Dave Philipps in San Antonio, John Schwartz in New Orleans and Henry Fountain in New York, on A1 of the the NYT: “Local, state and federal officials conceded that the scale of the crisis was so vast that they were nowhere near being able to measure it, much less fully address it. Across a region that is home to millions of people and includes Houston, the nation’s fourth-largest city, no one has a clear idea how many people are missing, how many evacuated, how many hunkered down or were trapped in their waterlogged homes, or how many inundated houses and vehicles are beyond saving.” http://nyti.ms/2wFm5MD

— L.A. TIMES: “By Monday evening, the death toll had risen to nine. Officials in Harris County, which includes Houston, reported at least six ‘potentially storm-related’ fatalities. A 60-year-old woman died Monday in Porter, a small community north of Houston, when a large oak fell on her mobile home. Another person died in the small coastal town of Rockport, near where Harvey made landfall. A 52-year-old homeless man was found in La Marque, a small city near Galveston.” http://lat.ms/2gldb0n

HOUSTON POLICE CHIEF ART ACEVEDO to the AP: “We know in these kind of events that, sadly, the death toll goes up historically. I’m really worried about how many bodies we’re going to find.”

PULLING BACK THE LENS — “Bracing for Harvey’s return, worry renews: Is worst to come?,” by AP’s Michael Graczyk and David Phillip in Houston: “The disaster is unfolding on an epic scale, with the nation’s fourth-largest city mostly paralyzed by the storm that has parked itself over the Gulf Coast. With nearly 2 more feet of rain expected on top of the 30-plus inches in some places, authorities worried the worst might be yet to come. The Houston metro area covers about 10,000 square miles, an area slightly bigger than New Jersey. It’s crisscrossed by about 1,700 miles of channels, creeks and bayous that drain into the Gulf of Mexico, about 50 miles to the southeast from downtown.

“The storm is generating an amount of rain that would normally be seen only once in more than 1,000 years, said Edmond Russo, a deputy district engineer for the Army Corps of Engineers, which was concerned that floodwater would spill around a pair of 70-year-old reservoir dams that protect downtown Houston.” http://bit.ly/2vo9i1v

— UNBELIEVABLE STATS in today’s HOUSTON CHRONICLE: “Tropical Storm Harvey was producing 1 to 2 inches of rain per hour Tuesday morning, which would ultimately worsen the city’s flooding problem, according to the National Weather Service.” … “The amount of water expected to hit Fort Bend County by late Tuesday could reach levels seen only about once every 800 years.”

— WHAT YOU’LL HEAR A LOT ABOUT IN THE COMING DAYS: “Storm water starts rising in neighborhoods near Addicks and Barker dams,” by the Houston Chronicle’s John Harden and Lindsay Ellis: “The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers began releasing water from the Addicks and Barker reservoirs early Monday morning, hours before officials planned to release rainfall from the two dams, according to the Harris County Flood Control District.

“The flood control district reported almost an hour later that storm water has started rising in the neighborhoods adjacent to Addicks and Barker. Heavy rainfall forced reservoir officials to begin releasing water from the dams sooner than previously planned. Col. Lars N. Zetterstrom with the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers had announced late Sunday afternoon that rising levels in the two reservoirs would force authorities to release water from both dams. The rising tides within the dams are forcing the water to swell and spill upstream into neighboring communities that sit against the dams.” http://bit.ly/2wFpNpJ

CLICKER — “The Unprecedented Flooding in Houston, in Photos” – 28 pix on one page http://theatln.tc/2vzWrW4

****** A message from the American Bankers Association: Bank customers deserve both safety and convenience. That’s why America’s banks created innovative ways—like mobile banking and remote deposit—for you to safely access your money 24/7. And we’re just getting started. Learn more: http://politi.co/2w4RZRG ******

MATT NUSSBAUM: “Trumpian branding meets national tragedy”: “President Donald Trump has deployed his knack for marketing as Hurricane Harvey has ravaged Texas, calling the storm ‘epic,’ ‘historic,’ and the ‘biggest ever.’ ‘Even experts have said they’ve never seen one like this!’ Trump declared on Twitter. But Trump’s showmanship is about to collide with the devastation on the ground as he heads to Texas on Tuesday, and while natural disasters usually call for a certain presidential demeanor, Trump’s response so far has been distinctly his own.” http://politi.co/2vAp7hi

THIS COULD BE A PROBLEM — “Texas Republican vows to fight for flood insurance overhaul,” by Zach Warmbrodt: “As his state’s largest city is pounded by extreme rain, Rep. Jeb Hensarling is digging in his heels on a conservative vision for overhauling the heavily indebted National Flood Insurance Program, which protects millions from the risk of financial calamity. The Texas Republican, who as chairman of the House Financial Services Committee is spearheading efforts to revamp the program before it expires next month, will call on his colleagues to pass his proposal as soon as they return from recess.

“His committee has drafted legislation that would renew the program for five years but also shrink its footprint, make coverage more expensive for policyholders, and ease the pathway for private companies to sell their own flood insurance policies. Opponents say the changes would make coverage less accessible for many homeowners. … In an interview Monday, as the devastation in Houston began to bring the policy issues to the fore, Hensarling said he was ‘pressing on the accelerator’ — not the brake. ‘It’s more urgent than ever we get this bill done,’ he said.

“His characteristic steadfastness puts him at odds with other lawmakers, aides and lobbyists who suggested Congress was more likely to advance a less ambitious flood insurance package, including potentially a short-term extension bill without significant reforms. ‘Hurricane Harvey makes a rapid reauthorization of the NFIP — in its current form — more likely,’ a House Republican leadership aide said. ‘Considering the ongoing disaster in Texas and the fact we are not even halfway through hurricane season, I think there will be immense public and political pressure to get this finished.’” http://politi.co/2wOgJzn

— HENSARLING HAS STRUGGLED for years with changes to the flood insurance program.

NORTH KOREA, UNCOWED — WAPO’S ANNA FIFIELD in TOKYO: “North Korea launched a ballistic missile Tuesday morning that flew over the northern Japanese island of Hokkaido, the most brazen provocation of Kim Jong Un’s five-year-long rule and one that elicited strong condemnation from U.S. allies Japan and South Korea.

“The launch poses a further challenge, in particular, to President Trump, who has made North Korea a favorite rhetorical target. Trump said earlier this month that he would make Kim ‘truly regret’ harming the United States or its allies. In Japan, the prime minister was visibly agitated by North Korea’s actions. ‘A missile launch across Japan is an outrageous act that poses an unprecedented, grave and serious threat, and significantly undermines the peace and security of the region,’ Shinzo Abe said after an emergency national security council meeting. …

“In Seoul, President Moon Jae-in, a liberal who has promoted engagement with Pyongyang, ordered an ‘overwhelming show of force’ in response to the missile launch. South Korea’s military aircraft dropped eight bombs on a shooting range on the southern side of the border with North Korea.” http://wapo.st/2wepm4p

THE BIG PICTURE, NYT A18 — “Two Bankers Are Selling Trump’s Tax Plan. Is Congress Buying?” by Julie Hirschfeld Davis and Kate Kelly: “Gary D. Cohn and Steven Mnuchin have spent months behind closed doors with Republican congressional leaders sketching the contours of an elaborate and politically difficult tax overhaul that is President Trump’s top priority. … Already, their ambitions have drifted from the president’s original mark: A 15 percent corporate tax rate proposed in April is now likely to move to the 20 to 25 percent range, say two people familiar with the officials’ recent thinking. And a proposed 35 percent ceiling on the highest personal income tax rate could be shelved altogether, leaving the current 39.6 percent cap intact.

“For Mr. Cohn and Mr. Mnuchin, quiet competitors since their days as new partners at Goldman Sachs more than two decades ago, the task is a consequential test of whether real-world experience in finance has equipped them to carry out a delicate political negotiation, and whether two Jewish New Yorkers who have been lavish supporters of Democrats can succeed in Mr. Trump’s Washington. ‘Goldman has thrived by hiring strong individuals with very different backgrounds and putting them together on a team,’ Lloyd Blankfein, the chief executive of Goldman Sachs, said in an email. ‘Gary and Steven are both steeped in that tradition from their years working side by side on the trading floor — not a bad training ground for the pressure cooker that is Washington.’ …

“In a meeting with a group of Senate Democrats this year, according to people who were present, Mr. Cohn jokingly dismissed concerns about the wisdom and cost of repealing the estate tax, remarking, ‘Only morons pay the estate tax.’ A source close to Mr. Cohn denied that he had used the word, saying he had been referring to ‘rich people with really bad tax planning.’” http://nyti.ms/2iEVQjO

TRUMP V. HIS CABINET — “Trump rejected China steel offer his officials backed,” by FT’s Demetri Sevastopulo and Shawn Donnan: “Donald Trump last month rejected a Chinese proposal to cut steel overcapacity despite it being endorsed by some of his top advisers, as he urged them instead to find ways to impose tariffs on imports from China. One week after the July G20 summit in Hamburg — where Mr. Trump criticised China for flooding the world market with cheap steel — Beijing proposed cutting steel overcapacity by 150m tonnes by 2022. But Mr. Trump twice rejected the deal, according to several people familiar with the internal debate. … Wilbur Ross, U.S. commerce secretary, endorsed the deal and brought it to Mr. Trump, but the president rejected the proposal. Mr. Ross, a long-time friend of the president, floated the deal again the following week during the two-day meetings with Chinese vice-premier Wang Yang, but Mr. Trump once again refused to accept it.” http://on.ft.com/2xu5bhQ

DEPT. OF BARK NO BITE — “Trump unusually silent after aides challenge him,” by Josh Dawsey, Ben White and Eliana Johnson: “President Donald Trump is not happy with Secretary of State Rex Tillerson and Gary Cohn, director of the National Economic Council, for publicly criticizing his response to violence in Charlottesville, Virginia. But it appears there is little he is planning to do about it, according to people who have spoken to him. The unusually direct challenges from a Cabinet secretary and senior administration official seemed to make little more than a surface ripple in the swirling melodrama of the Trump White House, even as the president fumed privately about it. … Cohn told associates that he hadn’t heard a word from the president about his supposed anger — and that he didn’t regret one bit having made his comments.” http://politi.co/2vFswL1

— BUT, BUT, BUT … “Trump Punishes Longtime Aide After Angry Phoenix Speech, Sources Say,” by Bloomberg’s Jen Jacobs and Kevin Cirilli: “Donald Trump was in a bad mood before he emerged for a confrontational speech in Arizona last week. TV and social media coverage showed that the site of his campaign rally, the Phoenix Convention Center, was less than full. Backstage, waiting in a room with a television monitor, Trump was displeased, one person familiar with the incident said: TV optics and crowd sizes are extremely important to the president.

“As his surrogates warmed up the audience, the expanse of shiny concrete eventually filled in with cheering Trump fans. But it was too late for a longtime Trump aide, George Gigicos, the former White House director of advance who had organized the event as a contractor to the [RNC]. Trump later had his top security aide, Keith Schiller, inform Gigicos that he’d never manage a Trump rally again, according to three people familiar with the matter.” https://bloom.bg/2vo1Fb9

REVOLVING DOOR — “Another RNC data guru heads for the exits,” by Alex Isenstadt: “The [RNC] is losing its fifth staffer in just over a month. Conor Maguire, who has been working at the committee since 2011, is expected to depart in the next few weeks, according to two senior Republicans familiar with the move. Maguire, who served as director of external support, joins a wave of aides who have exited the committee’s data department amid a change in leadership among its top ranks.” http://politi.co/2vnVBiO

IN FOGGY BOTTOM — “Tillerson moves to ditch special envoys,” by CNN’s Elise Labott, Nicole Gaouette and Jeremy Herb: “Secretary of State Rex Tillerson is moving to eliminate or downgrade special envoy positions at the State Department, including the representative for climate change, a step that is sure to ignite vociferous opposition from some members of Congress. In a letter obtained by CNN and written to Senator Bob Corker, the Tennessee Republican who heads the foreign relations committee, Tillerson said he would end or transfer as many as three dozen special envoy positions. … Special envoys for Syria, Sudan and South Sudan, and the Arctic will be eliminated.” http://cnn.it/2wdQ39q

BANNON VS. TRUMP — “Bannon wages war against Trump-backed candidate in Alabama,” by Alex Isenstadt: “Just-departed White House chief strategist Steve Bannon is breaking from President Donald Trump in the closely watched Alabama Senate special election. During a closed-door meeting with powerful conservatives in Washington last week, Bannon declared that he’s supporting former state Supreme Court Justice Roy Moore over Trump-endorsed incumbent Sen. Luther Strange, according to two people who were present. … Appearing before a meeting of the secretive Conservative Action Project, Bannon made it clear that he supported Moore, a favorite among evangelicals, but was careful not to cast it as a break with the president. Rather, he said, it was an act of opposition toward Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.), who is supporting Strange and has made the race a top political priority.” http://politi.co/2wee68i

— THIS WILL NOT be a fight that McConnell will shy away from. He and his allies have gone up against Bannon in primaries before — and won.

IT’S BEGINNING … — “The 2020 campaign just kicked off in a New Hampshire strip mall,” by Isaac Dovere in Manchester, New Hampshire: “Just like that, the 2020 retail campaigning for president began right here in a strip-mall campaign headquarters Monday, when Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti showed up for what he called ‘the most important race in the country.’ He was talking about the Manchester mayor’s election. Joyce Craig, the Democratic candidate, invited him to join her for an afternoon that also included a speech to the Manchester Young Democrats and a fundraiser. Garcetti worked the crowds, introduced himself as ‘Eric,’ and took a bumper sticker and put it on the back of the black SUV he was driving around in. … On Tuesday, Rep. John Delaney (D-Md.), the only one to have already officially announced, will be here for a two-day trip, trying to get attention for his long-shot bid.

“On Labor Day, both Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) and Jason Kander, the Democrat who narrowly lost his U.S. Senate bid in Missouri last year, will be back. And on Thursday, Sanders — who was in Indiana and Michigan last week 00 will be in Iowa, along with Sen. Amy Klobuchar of Minnesota. Sen. Jeff Merkley of Oregon will be there in October. Former Vice President Joe Biden, who made his own teasing stop here in Manchester at the end of April, is headed to South Carolina in September.” http://politi.co/2vFtqas

COMING ATTRACTIONS — “Senate chairman eyes Sessions testimony this fall,” By Seung Min Kim and Elana Schor: “Senate Judiciary Chairman Chuck Grassley is preparing for testimony by Attorney General Jeff Sessions as soon as next month — a high-stakes appearance for Sessions, who’s likely to face tough questions over the ongoing investigation into President Donald Trump’s ties to Russia. Grassley (R-Iowa) wrote to Sessions on Monday that ‘unfortunately we still do not have a confirmed date’ for the committee’s usual Department of Justice oversight hearing. Staff-level discussions have zeroed in on Sept. 19, Sept. 27, or Oct. 3 as open dates for Sessions’ testimony, Grassley wrote, asking Sessions to reply no later than Wednesday.” http://politi.co/2wY4orF

THE JUICE …

— TWO FUN SPOTTEDS: IVANKA TRUMP last night at a table with five other women at Barcelona Wine Bar on 14th Street (“half price wine night”) … Huma Abedin lunching at Sunset Beach in Shelter Island on Monday with her son Jordan and other friends.

— HOT JOB: The Des Moines Register is hiring for a new politics editor who will oversee their coverage of the 2020 caucus cycle (as well as the 2018 gubernatorial race and the 2020 general election). http://bit.ly/2wF0i7H

— HILLARY FALL BOOK TOUR CITIES: 3 STOPS IN CANADA! D.C.; Toronto; Broward, Florida; Davis, California; Montreal, Canada; Ann Arbor, Michigan; Chicago; NYC; Milwaukee; Atlanta; Boston; Philadelphia; Seattle; Portland; and Vancouver. http://bit.ly/2iELyjH

— MICHAEL SCHERER is joining the Washington Post as national political reporter. He has been Time’s Washington bureau chief since 2013. http://wapo.st/2vF6N6b

PHOTO DU JOUR: Rescue boats fill a flooded street as flood victims are evacuated as floodwaters from Hurricane Harvey rise on Aug. 28 in Houston. | David J. Phillip/AP Photo

THE NEVER-ENDING RUSSIA STORY …

— WAPO’S ROS HELDERMAN, CAROL LEONNIG and TOM HAMBURGER: “A top executive from Donald Trump’s real estate company emailed Russian President Vladimir Putin’s personal spokesman during the U.S. presidential campaign last year to ask for help advancing a stalled Trump Tower development project in Moscow, according to documents submitted to Congress on Monday. The request came in a mid-January 2016 email from Michael Cohen, one of Trump’s closest business advisers, who asked longtime Putin lieutenant Dmitry Peskov for assistance in reviving a deal that Cohen suggested was languishing.

“‘Over the past few months I have been working with a company based in Russia regarding the development of a Trump Tower-Moscow project in Moscow City,’ Cohen wrote to Peskov, according to a person familiar with the email. ‘Without getting into lengthy specifics, the communication between our two sides has stalled. As this project is too important, I am hereby requesting your assistance. I respectfully request someone, preferably you, contact me so that I might discuss the specifics as well as arranging meetings with the appropriate individuals. I thank you in advance for your assistance and look forward to hearing from you soon,’ Cohen wrote. Cohen’s email marks the most direct outreach documented by a top Trump aide to a similarly senior member of Putin’s government.” http://wapo.st/2wOFETi

— NYT’S MATT APUZZO and MAGGIE HABERMAN: “Trump Associate Boasted That Moscow Business Deal ‘Will Get Donald Elected’”: “The associate, Felix Sater … predicted that building a Trump Tower in Moscow would highlight Mr. Trump’s savvy negotiating skills and be a political boon to his candidacy. ‘Our boy can become president of the USA and we can engineer it,’ Mr. Sater wrote in an email. ‘I will get all of Putins team to buy in on this, I will manage this process.’ …

“Mr. Sater said he was eager to show video clips to his Russian contacts of instances of Mr. Trump speaking glowingly about Russia, and said he would arrange for Mr. Putin to praise Mr. Trump’s business acumen. … Mr. Sater said it would be ‘pretty cool to get a USA President elected’ and said he desired to be the ambassador to the Bahamas. ‘That my friend is the home run I want out of this,’ he wrote.” http://nyti.ms/2iEZg68

FOR THE PRESIDENT — “Mueller Team Asking If Trump Tried to Hide Purpose of Trump Tower Meeting,” by NBC News’ Julia Ainsley and Tom Winter: “Federal investigators working for Special Counsel Robert Mueller are keenly focused on President Donald Trump’s role in crafting a response to a published article about a meeting between Russians and his son Donald Jr., three sources familiar with the matter told NBC News. The sources told NBC News that prosecutors want to know what Trump knew about the meeting and whether he sought to conceal its purpose.” http://nbcnews.to/2vnrk3Z

ISAAC DOVERE’S “OFF MESSAGE”: “How Detroit’s Mayor Became Unbeatable,” in Detroit: “Something weird is happening in Motor City: Government is working. And the guy in charge is about to get re-elected in a landslide because of it. Detroit used to look like how America ends. Abandoned skyscrapers downtown. An 18-story abandoned train station looming at the edge of the skyline like a Roman ruin. Collapsing car factories, block after block of grass growing high over lots where the houses had burned or been abandoned. Bankrupt, with the governor putting a city manager in charge, looking at selling off its art museum’s collection to pay the bills—all while the glass towers of General Motors’ of-course named Renaissance Center stuck up high above neighborhoods where it wasn’t safe to drink the water.

“‘I was appalled at so many things,’ Mayor Mike Duggan told me in an interview for POLITICO’s Off Message podcast, recorded in his office. ‘That the buses just weren’t running and people stood out on the corners in the winter for hours at a time. That every vacant building in the city was covered with graffiti and nobody cared. The lack of anybody caring was heartbreaking.’” BONUS: The previously unreported showdown he, Mitch Landrieu and Bill de Blasio had with John Podesta at Clinton campaign headquarters last year over what they warned was an economic message too long and complicated to work. http://politi.co/2wemsg1 … Listen to the full podcast http://apple.co/2e2dLvm

JOHN BOLTON in NR, “How to Get Out of the Iran Nuclear Deal”: “Although candidate Donald Trump repeatedly criticized Barack Obama’s Iran nuclear agreement, his administration has twice decided to remain in the deal. … Many outside the administration wondered how this was possible: Was Trump in control, or were his advisers? Defining a compelling rationale to exit Obama’s failed nuclear deal and elaborating a game plan to do so are quite easy. In fact, Steve Bannon asked me in late July to draw up just such a game plan for the president — the option he didn’t have — which I did. … I offer the Iran nonpaper now as a public service, since staff changes at the White House have made presenting it to President Trump impossible. Although he was once kind enough to tell me ‘come in and see me any time,’ those days are now over.” http://bit.ly/2wOLKmH

— Foreign Policy’s Dan DeLuce: “A source involved in the Iran policy discussions at the White House confirmed that Bolton was in and out of the Oval Office for at least several weeks. At one point, he was even offered the possibility of serving as deputy national security advisor, with the idea that he might eventually get to replace H.R. McMaster. The source said Bolton declined, preferring to wait until he was offered the top job.” http://atfp.co/2wew5eZ

****** A message from the American Bankers Association: America’s banks play a critical role in generating economic growth while delivering safety and convenience for customers. The two million women and men who work for America’s banks safeguard $12.9 trillion in deposits and originate $2.4 trillion in home loans. They provide $331 billion in loans to small businesses and $175 billion in loans to farmers and ranchers. Banks’ fraud protection measures stop at least $11 billion in attempted fraud each year. And thousands of banker volunteers deliver financial literacy lessons annually to millions of young Americans to help them become financially successful adults. Find out more at www.aba.com/AmericasBanks, #AmericasBanks ******

SPENCER ACKERMAN in THE DAILY BEAST — “Paul Manafort Teamed Up With Obama’s Lawyer to Help Putin Ally: As the examination of pro-Kremlin influence-peddling continues, Democrats are coming under scrutiny, too”: “It wasn’t just Republicans. When Paul Manafort needed a powerful D.C. law firm to bless an alarming act by his clients in Kiev’s pro-Kremlin regime in Kiev, Donald Trump’s future campaign chairman turned to attorneys with significant ties to Barack Obama’s administration.

“In exchange, a team led by Obama’s former White House counsel Greg Craig at the firm of Skadden Arps produced a report that whitewashed the pro-Putin government of Viktor Yanukovych for jailing Yanukovych’s anti-Kremlin predecessor. Manafort consulted for Yanukovych’s Party of Regions. And they did it all for roughly $13,000—a conspicuously small amount for top lawyers at a prestigious law firm. (Prosecutors in Ukraine have reportedly alleged a million dollars more in secret payments.)” http://thebea.st/2vzJQSx

MIKE STEEL in the CHARLOTTE OBSERVER — “Dean Smith statue in the U.S. Capitol? He beats who’s there now”: “The furor over removing Confederate memorials offers North Carolina an opportunity to tell a new, more positive story about our state and our values. One modest proposition: We should replace North Carolina’s statue of a Confederate veteran in the U.S. Capitol with a new statue of the late, legendary college basketball coach Dean Smith.” http://bit.ly/2vo0YP5

BUSINESS BURST — “At Whole Foods, Amazon Takes Rare Lead in Cutting Prices,”by WSJ’s Laura Stevens and Heather Haddon: “Amazon.com on Monday put itself in the unusual position of being a first-mover on price cuts when it slashed the sticker price on more than 100 items at Whole Foods Market many by more than 30%. Amazon typically relies on algorithms that scrape competitors’ prices before automatically matching or narrowly undercutting them on its website. It focuses on items that are most popular on the site and that drive traffic, according to former executives in Amazon’s retail divisions. That gives the retail giant a reputation for having the lowest prices, part of its strategy of driving more shopper traffic.” http://on.wsj.com/2vFM69X

VALLEY TALK — MARK ZUCKERBERG posts on Facebook: “Priscilla and I are so happy to welcome our daughter August! We wrote her a letter about the world we hope she grows up in, and also hoping she doesn’t grow up too fast.” With the letter and a pic of the whole family http://bit.ly/2vzP7cL

MEDIAWATCH — Paul Farhi (@farhip): “Pres/CEO of @Newseum, Jeff Herbst, suddenly steps down. Interim head will Jan Neuharth, chair/CEO of Freedom Forum, Newseum says.”

REMEMBERING MICHAEL CROMARTIE – Christianity Today’s Kate Shellnut: “Cromartie, a Washington networker who helped rebrand America’s image of Christian political engagement, has died of cancer at age 67. The news of his death was reported Monday on Twitter and confirmed by colleagues at the Ethics and Public Policy Center, the DC-based conservative think tank where he served for more than 30 years. Cromartie brought Christian thought leaders and secular journalists under the same roof at the Faith Angle Forum, held every year since 1999. … In a political arena often dominated by competition, power grabs, and culture war debates, Cromartie stuck out by offering a friendlier, humbler approach.” With remembrances by Michael Gerson, Russell Moore, Michael Wear, John Stonestreet, Pete Wehner http://bit.ly/2glyRti … 2013 profile http://bit.ly/2weDElW …Friends’ memories of Michael on his Facebook page http://bit.ly/2x00u19

TRANSITIONS — Julian Castro, former HUD secretary and San Antonio mayor, is joining the faculty of the LBJ School at UT Austin as the dean’s distinguished fellow and fellow of the Davila chair in international trade policy. … Maggie Hollander has joined MSNBC as a media relations manager. Hollander was previously an international communications manager at Viacom. … George Selim has been named SVP of programs at the ADL. He’s the former DHS director of the office for community partnerships.

OBAMA ALUMNI — MICHAEL GOTTLIEB, partner at Boies Schiller Flexner and former W.H. associate counsel, has been named to National Law Journal’s D.C. Rising Stars list – what he says is his biggest win: “I am proud to have helped James Alefantis, owner of Comet Ping Pong, fight back against fake news attacks falsely claiming that Comet was running a child sex ring. We helped Comet restore its business, and obtained an apology and retraction from leading conspiracy theorist Infowars.” For NLJ subscribers http://bit.ly/2xtBq0r

WELCOME TO THE WORLD – Ryan Brevard, adviser at the Institute of International Education, and girlfriend Bri Fett recently welcomed Magnolia Marie Brevard. Pic http://politi.co/2xGfK0v

WEEKEND WEDDINGS – Hayley Andrews, director of government affairs and policy at the Charles Group and travel blogger at Navigate Abroad (http://bit.ly/2tjP2ff), on Sunday married Eugene Gelfgat, a lieutenant in the Army. Their small wedding was at Meadowlark Botanical Gardens in Vienna, Va. The couple met as GW students on a Birthright Israel trip in 2010. Pic http://bit.ly/2vnE9v9

— Scott Rausch, legislative director for Rep. Alex Mooney (R-W.Va.), on Saturday married Patricia Simpson, director of career programs at the Leadership Institute. “The couple met at a birthday party at the home of Brent Gardner, chief government affairs officer at AFP, the day Scott moved to D.C. to begin his job as a lobbyist at the NRA.” Pic http://bit.ly/2xFhdUv

BIRTHWEEK (was Sunday): Ashley Koerber of Fox News

BIRTHDAY OF THE DAY: Robert Rubin, former U.S. treasury secretary and co-chair emeritus of the Council on Foreign Relations, celebrating at Daniel in New York. A fun fact about Bob: “A fun fact is how I found out who Jimmy Buffett is. When I was at Treasury, I told the Republican House majority leader that Warren Buffett was opposed to cutting capital gains taxes—as was I. (And I still am.) He responded that Warren Buffett might be opposed, but Jimmy Buffett is in favor. I started to say, ‘Why should I care about Warren Buffett’s son?’ but I didn’t. Later, someone told me that Jimmy Buffett is a famous singer, so I called Alan Greenspan to see if he had heard of this Jimmy Buffett character. He said it was probably Warren’s son. I later told President Clinton about my exchange with the majority leader. The President laughed at me for not knowing who Jimmy Buffett is, and I told him that Greenspan also thought he was Warren’s son. President Clinton said that for some reason this didn’t surprise him.” Read his Playbook Plus Q&A: http://politi.co/2vFATX0

BIRTHDAYS: Supreme Court Justice Neil Gorsuch … Gary Shapiro, president and CEO of Consumer Technology Association … former Treasury Secretary Jack Lew … Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) … Connie Milstein (hat tip: Tammy Haddad) … Politico’s Nancy Scola and Rachael Cusick … Charlie Spies, leader of Clark Hill’s national Political Law practice … Amy Nathan … lobbyist Tom Jolly … NYT’s Sewell Chan … Rich Cooper … Sacha Zimmerman, senior editor at The Atlantic … Andrew Adair … Guam Gov. Eddie Baza Calvo … Rep. Dave Reichert (R-Wash.) … Stacey Hughes, president and founding partner of The Nickles Group … Sal Albanese, former 15-year NYC city councilman now running for mayor … former NY Assemblyman Richard Brodsky …

… Ed Wyatt, SVP of Sphere Consulting … Jerr Rosenbaum, partner at HLP&R Advocacy … Duncan Neasham, comms director at tech trade group ITI (h/t Jose Castaneda) … Roger McShane, Cairo bureau chief for The Economist … Anna Adams-Sarthou … Tim Warner … Kendra Marr Chaikind … Sam Hudis … Molly Phillips Fogarty, SVP of corporate affairs at Nestle … Paul Coussan … Catherine Hill, director for Brunswick Group in SF and San Francisco Rec League Soccer Star (h/ts Nick Massella and Suzanne Merkelson) … Meagan Bond … Beth Mlynarczyk … Suzanne Henkels … Christina Silva, news director at Newsweek … Ryann DuRant … former Sen. David Pryor (D-Ark.) … Ben Martello … Allan Lengel … Adam Shapiro … Sarah Smith-Clevenger of Louisiana … Amy Storey … Susan Markham … David Morehouse … Barb Worcester … Kevin Sweeny … Paige Ennis … Alison Schwartz (h/ts Teresa Vilmain)

****** A message from the American Bankers Association: America’s banks play a critical role in generating economic growth while delivering safety and convenience for customers. The two million women and men who work for America’s banks safeguard $12.9 trillion in deposits and originate $2.4 trillion in home loans. They provide $331 billion in loans to small businesses and $175 billion in loans to farmers and ranchers. Banks’ fraud protection measures stop at least $11 billion in attempted fraud each year. And thousands of banker volunteers deliver financial literacy lessons annually to millions of young Americans to help them become financially successful adults. Find out more at www.aba.com/AmericasBanks, #AmericasBanks ******

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