#and then today someone placed him in front of a morrisons sign in such a way that his big head makes the sign look like it says ‘moron’

[fingertipsmp3]

This is the spiritual successor to Four Seasons Landscaping. To me.

[sweetcheol]

sunflowers, sometimes

exo-l revival; week #3 — exo + flowers

— prompt: your co-worker and you have been competing on who can make the most impressive flower bouquet for a while now. little did you know that the person he wants to impress is you.

— au: flower shop, friends to lovers

— pairing: oh sehun x reader

— genre: fluff

— word count: 1.8k

— warnings: some curse words? 

— note: this was so much fun to write! i was looking up for participating in the challenge and i’m so excited that i finally had the chance to do it 💘 hope you like it just as much as i did! a chanyeol one might be coming either on tuesday or wednesday too! 

— songs to listen to while reading: sunflower, vol.6 — harry styles; you make loving fun — fleetwood mac; tupelo honey — van morrison

sunflower, my eyes want you more than a melody

you became friends with sehun quite quickly when you first started working at the shop

he had gotten there way before you did because the shop was his aunt’s, and working there had been his way of saving up a bit before college began

but somewhere along the many bouquets he had spent countless hours setting up, he actually started liking flowers

so he just kept working with them

but when his college schedule got a bit messed up, his aunt was forced to look for someone that could help and ease sehun’s schedule for a bit

and so in came you

you had, quite literally, ran into the flower shop’s flyer when walking home from class

some guy on a skateboard lost control and bumped in you, making you trip on the sidewalk 

and as you were getting up, your eyes locked on a bright-pink piece of paper that read “help needed !!!!!” in bold, capital letters

you were kind of discouraged at first when you saw it was about a flower shop

because you knew nothing about flowers

but after thinking about it for a bit, you decided the best way to learn about flowers was actually working with them

so you went to the shop and asked about the job

and sehun’s aunt practcially hired you on the spot

low-key because she had been trying to play match-maker with him for a while and knew, the second she saw you, that you’d make a nice couple

she literally didn’t care you didn’t know a thing about flowers

“don’t worry, my nephew can teach you”

and she told you to come back the next day

now, you wanted to make a good impression on your first day of work

given that you were kind of clue-less about the work you were going to do

so you dressed up quite nicely and showed up five minutes before your shift was supposed to begin

and no one was there

you kept looking at your watch and the “be right back!” sign on the door

until you were, once again, knocked off your feet by a moving figure before you even had the time to process it

“fuck, are you okay?”

you heard as a pair of white sneakers appeared in your field of vision

you merely nodded before you were offered a hand, and quickly got up as a thousand apologies rained on you

“shut up chanyeol, you did enough already”

turning to find the source of the voice, you encountered two tall guys, one that was looking at you in concern, and another, staring at you with eyes wide open while still muttering endless i’m sorry’s

and you mumbled an i’m fine, hoping that would make him stop

because as he kept apologizing to you, the other one grew anxious

and if they kept you on the street with their bickering, you weren’t going to notice the shop opening, and you would be late

or so you thought

“you sure you’re alright?”

the shorter of the two asked, fiddling with a key set and looking down at the time on his phone

“yeah, it’s not a big deal,”

and just before the taller one could go on another apology streak, the other one spoke

“listen, i can open the shop and you can sit down for a bit until your knee stops bleeding,”

and to be honest, you hadn’t even noticed you had actually gotten hurt, and it didn’t matter much to you, because had he said the shop? as in, the flower shop you were supposed to start working at?

you didn’t say anything as he unlocked the door and stepped inside, the scent of fresh flowers invading your nose

you walked in right after him and stopped at the counter as he made his way toward the back, leaving you in the front alongside his friend

“listen, i’m sorry, i’m still getting the hang of the board because i broke my bike and getting it fixed was way more expensive than buying the board, but i had never been able to skate and even when i’ve been practicing it’s still kind of hard for me, it’s probably because i’m so tall but -” 

“jesus fuck chanyeol, stop,”

he said as he returned with a stool in one hand and a water bottle in the other, handing them to you

“here, it’s not ice cold but you can use it to clean the wound,”

“do you work here?” you asked as you took the bottle from him

he answered with only a nod, tying up a black apron around his torso, protecting his clothes

“i’m supposed to start working here today, too,”

the taller one gasped, looking at you in surpirse

“i ... ran your co-worker over? fuck, your aunt is going to kill me”

“well ... more like skated me over, huh?”

and that had been the reason why you had spent your first day limping around the shop while sehun showed you around

he was surprisingly patient when teaching you about flowers

after all, he had once been in your place, clueless and learning as much as he could from his aunt

and so during the days when you shared a shift, you’d talk not only about flowers, but you’d start getting to know each other

and so you became friends

you even got along with chanyeol, the delivery boy

which was kind of weird because he kept on making deliveries in his skate board

but then sehun told you it was an extra job his aunt offered him so he could save up a bit of money

because the two of them had been friends since they were kids

and once chanyeol was able to put the incident behind and stop apologizing every time he saw you, you became friends as well

by then you’d already spent quite some time talking about movies and songs while sehun and you came up with arrangements

with chanyeol snacking on gummies or chips while he watched the two of you work

and it was during one of those ... sessions ? that your little competition began

you had been working on some bouquets for the shop’s displays when chanyeol started teasing sehun about how your bouquet was better than his even if you’d only been working at the shop for a little over a month

and it’s not that sehun minded

because it’s not like he hadn’t been crushing on you ever since he saw you fall down right in front of the shop

and it’s not like he wasn’t proud of how better you’ve become with flowers

but ... it was chanyeol ... teasing him

and so he made up his mind

he’d prove chanyeol he was the best florist

and if he could, impress you with the bouquets he could create

and so ever since that day you’d walk into the shop and find another one of sehun’s creation resting on the counter

he’d always include a card

some days he’d write something along the lines of top this or please tell chanyeol you liked it even if you didn’t

and you’d leave one of yours in return when your shift ended

you wouldn’t leave a note every time

but when you did, he always kept them

it didn’t matter how mundane and friendly they were

because sometimes they only consisted of you saying hi

other times you’d compliment his bouquet of the day

and those were the ones sehun really took to heart

because hey, that had been for you

even if you didn’t know

and to be honest ... he was fine with you not knowing

being your friend was enough for him, right?

until you were on a shift together

and a guy had walked into the shop, looking at the sunflower bouquet sehun had arranged for you

he had been working on an order for a wedding and didn’t notice at first how persistent the guy was with his questions

or how tense you looked when answering him

until she asked for the price of it

“it’s - it’s not up for sale, sorry,”

and you knew it was probably just because he thought you were cute

which ... who didn’t

and sehun was pretty sure he’d seen the guy around the shop before

but the way in which you were so hellbent in defending the bouquet ... 

that was something else

“it’s hers,”

he spoke up from the back, wiping his hands on his apron as he approached you

“it’s not on sale because it’s hers,”

“and how do you know?”

“because he made it for me,”

and he would’ve probably scream if he was alone

you ... you knew?

or were you only saying it because you were nervous?

“and he’s your ...”

“not that it’s any of your business but ... he’s my boyfriend”

and sehun didn’t know if it was your words, or the way your hand had found his almost as if they belonged together

because maybe they did

and it wasn’t only him who felt that

“it didn’t make you uncomfortable, did it? what i said?” 

you asked just as the guy had left the shop

and if sehun had blushed before, that didn’t compare to how much he was blushing then

“no - no, of course not”

and you knew

maybe it was in the way his fingers were still clutching his

and he knew

maybe it was in the way you were still pulling him towards you

softly and little by little

just the way you’d fallen in love

just the way your lips had found each other under the flower shop’s delicate lightning

professing your love for each other. softly and little by little.

right in front of the sunflower bouquet

the one that reminded him of you the most

because sunflowers ... they were you

bright and beautiful

and always searching for the sun

keep it sweet in your memory i'm still tongue-tied sunflower, sunflower

[songtoyou]

Chapter One: Move You

Would You Call That Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x Raina Morrison (OC) Rating: PG-13 (Will be 18+ for some chapters)

Description: There was always one person Chris Evans tended to turn to when he was not in a committed relationship, Raina Morrison. He could confide in her about things going on in his life that he did not feel comfortable talking to his family or close friends about. Chris and Raina were able to establish a way to communicate with one another openly but also being respectful of the other’s time and needs. It was the only constant “relationship” he had, but without all the nonsense of trying to build a life together. A “friends with benefits” situation.However, what happens when Chris starts rethinking his “relationship” with Raina and if either is willing to pursue something more?

Chapter Rating: PG

Warnings: Mention of anxiety

Word Count: 2,530

Note: This is the first fic I have written in ages. Everything about it is fiction. Sadly, I do not know Chris Evans and this is just a fictional take on his life. I do not permit this fic to be reposted on other platforms.  

Thank you to @southerngracela​ and @sullyosully for the support. I also want to give a shout out to @royallyprincesslilly​​ for the text divider. 

*Updated for grammar edits.

June 2019

The early morning sun was peeking out of the sky, and the air became crisper after a night of pouring rain. It was supposed to be a scorcher day in June, according to the weather reports. That was not something Chris Evans was looking forward to since he would have to be on-set partaking in outdoor scenes wearing sweaters, business suits, and heavy coats for most of the day. Despite the uncomfortableness his job could be at times; it was all worth it in the end. Acting was Chris’s passion, and he was fortunate to do it for a living. Chris knew he was lucky to be where he is at in his career. From the ups and downs to disappointing film projects that either went nowhere or were rejected by critics and moviegoers, it all helped steer Chris to become the actor he is today. 

With Captain America’s story arch now complete, Chris understood that it would take a while for audiences and some of his fans not just to see him as Steve Rogers. Taken on Marvel’s top Avenger’s mantle was one of the best decisions he ever made as it took his career to new heights. Yes, Chris had some reservations at first when he was approached for the role. He did not feel confident enough if he could handle the responsibility of playing such an iconic character. Chris was also worried about losing his anonymity. He liked being able to walk down the street with no one recognizing him or asking for a photo and autograph. Now Chris was lucky to make it a few blocks without someone yelling out at him or screaming “Captain America!”, it most definitely did not help ease his anxieties. 

“You got that Marvel money saved up. You can live comfortably while pursuing projects that people would not expect you to take. It’s a win-win situation for you,” said Raina, one of Chris’s best friends, when mentioning the project, Defending Jacob. 

“You sound like my mom when you say that,” Chris replied.

Raina laughed at that and said, “I take that as a compliment, you know.”

“Good. I meant it as one. You both don’t take shit from anyone. And I know you’ll always have my back as she does.” 

Raina and his mom kept telling him to accept the lead role as Andy Barber in Defending Jacob. And how it would not only be beneficial to his career, but also because 1.) the show was filming in Massachusetts so that he would be in his own home every night, and 2.) it was a role he never played before: a father.

Sipping his coffee, Chris stood on the porch of his house as he watched Dodger relieve himself. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you some breakfast,” Chris waved Dodger over to get inside. The pup was happy to oblige his owner and trotted up the steps into the house.

Chris heard his cellphone buzz just as he put down Dodger’s food bowl. Reaching over the counter to retrieve it, Chris smiled when he saw the name pop up.

Raina: Why didn’t anyone tell me that New York is always hot as balls! I can’t take it!

Chris: I warned you about that, but you didn’t listen to me. What are you doing up so early?

Raina: Couldn’t sleep. Nervous about the preview shows for Moulin Rouge. It is coming up quickly. 

Chris: Again, congrats on Moulin Rouge. You got nothing to be nervous about; you are going to be great. 

Raina: I’m just worried if people will like the show. 

Chris: You and the crew wouldn’t have gotten to Broadway if people weren’t interested in seeing it, especially with you as Satine. This is what you were born to do. Scott, Ma, and I will be there on opening night. Carly and Shanna won’t be able to come but plan to see the show on a girls’ trip to New York later in the summer. I know both are proud of you as well. 

Raina: Stop! You are going to make me cry. All of you are so sweet. Seriously, I am forever grateful to you and your amazing family for supporting me all these years.

Chris: Can you believe it has been ten years since we met at that Vanity Fair photoshoot for West Side Story. 

Raina: Oh God! Do not remind of that shoot. I was a ball of nerves that day.

Chris: I thought the paramedics were going to need to be called for you.

Raina: Haha. Seriously though, they probably would have if you didn’t help calm me down.

 January 2009

“Wait, what is this photoshoot about?” Raina asked her manager, Jerry, who sighed in response.

“Raina, I’ve already told you. It is to celebrate the Broadway revival of West Side Story. The photographer is re-creating scenes from the film version,” explained Jerry.

Now it was Raina’s turn to let out a sigh. Despite being in the music industry since she was 16 years old, the whole idea of photoshoots still did not make her comfortable. Plus, the long hours, the bright lights, and the shoots’ craziness left Raina feeling drained. It was now adding other celebrities to the mix brought on a whole new set of anxieties.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Jerry assured Raina and added, “Today’s going to be easy. You don’t have to worry about being front and center this time. You’ll be in the background so that you can relax.”

“If you say so,” Raina retorted with a small smile. She trusted Jerry.

When Raina finally arrived at the photoshoot, she was whisked away to hair and makeup and then onward to change her costume. She had already been introduced to her fellow photo mates, such as Ashley Tisdale and Robert Pattinson. Both were very pleasant and nice. 

“I am such a huge fan. I have all of your albums,” Ashley gushed admirably. 

“Thank you. That is very sweet of you to say. I loved your album ‘Headstrong,’ by the way. Such great bops,” Raina complimented, and Ashley’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

As the two made their way to the set, each shared what project they were currently working on until Ashley stopped dead in her tracks.

“What is it?” Raina asked, concerned.

“Chris Evans,” whispered Ashley and went on, “Chris Evans is over there.”

“Yeah, didn’t you know he’d be here? Oh my God, you guys didn’t use to date, did you?”

“Ha! I wish. He is just so cute,” Ashley said dreamily.

Raina just laughed and shook her head, “Yeah, he isn’t bad looking.”

They filmed the dance scene from the movie where Maria and Tony see each other for the first time. Camilla Belle and Ben Barnes were assigned the lead roles for the shoot. Raina had to admit; both looked the part. The photographer, Mark Seliger, gathered everyone around to discuss how the scene would go. He started placing people in their spots with Jennifer Lopez and Rodrigo Santoro in their positions as lead Shark dancers Anita and Bernardo, with Camilla and Ben on their respective sides. Ashley was assigned as a Jet girl dancing with Chris’s character, the Jets leader, Riff. 

Raina hid her smile when Ashley shook Chris’s hand and introduced herself. Poor thing looked as if she could faint. Settled in the back, Raina was one of the Sharks. She was perfectly content where she was at standing next to Minka Kelly and Jay Hernandez. The three would even make little side chat here and there. 

Overall, the photoshoot was going well. Until the bright lights, the loud music, and the uncomfortable costume started getting to Raina. She felt like she was going to pass out.  However, Raina was determined to pull through in fear of being labeled a “diva” or, worse, “difficult” to work with; that was not the kind of press she needed now. Remembering what her mother told her to do when the first signs of an anxiety attack were coming on was to breathe in and out. She did that a couple of times as she closed her eyes when Mark said they were changing film and wanted a couple more shots. 

Unsurprisingly, someone else was beginning to get restless during the shoot as well. Chris was not a fan of photoshoots. He always felt awkward and never understood what he was supposed to be doing. He would continuously worry if he were coming off stupid or looking like a fool. 

Chris was more cautious of the types of photoshoots he would take part in and made sure to steer clear of the ones wanting him to be viewed as eye-candy merely. He was working hard to make a trajectory in his career from heartthrob to serious actor. However, Chris knew he had more to prove to audiences and critics for them to see past his ‘Not Another Teen Movie’ or ‘Fantastic 4’ roles. 

Nevertheless, when he got word about Vanity Fair’s West Side Story photoshoot, Chris was immediately on board. He was a theater kid, after all, thanks to his mother. Similarly, with other shoots, it all starts the same. The photographer talks about the art direction of the shoot and expectations for the day.  

During the short breaks on set, Chris looked around to see the other actors and performers. While he knew some of the folks on set, he did not honestly know any of them personally. The only person he was more acquainted with was Camilla, and that was because both filmed the movie Push a year ago.

As Chris’s eyes roamed around the room, they landed on Raina, who was fanning herself with her hands. While others were making small talk, he noticed that Raina took deep breaths and her eyes were closed. She stepped down on the chair she was standing on to take a seat and put her head in her hands. 

Chris felt bad. He knew an anxiety attack when he saw one. Slowly making his way over to Raina, he kneeled in front of her.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chris asked in a whisper.

Raina jumped at the sound of his voice. She did not expect anyone to come up to check on how she was doing. She thought she was doing her best to be discreet.

“I don’t know. It’s too hot in here. The lights are hurting my eyes, and it’s hard to breathe,” Raina said, continuing to fan herself.

Instinctively, Chris reached out to hold one of Raina’s shaking hands to help calm her down. 

“Have you ever tried the 4-7-8 breathing technique?”

Raina shook her head no and said, “Never heard of that technique.”

“Trust me; it has helped me out a lot. Okay, so you’re going to breathe in for four seconds, hold it for seven seconds, and exhale for eight seconds. Do you want to try it with me? Breathe in 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and exhale 1, 2, 3, 4 ,5, 6, 7, 8. Very good. Let’s do it again,” Chris calmly instructed Raina.

“I’ll get you some water. Just keeping doing the breathing exercises, okay.”

When Chris returned, he again kneeled in front of Raina and handed her the water cup.

“Thank you,” said Raina as she sipped slowly.

“You’re welcome.”

Raina let out a little chuckle, “I can’t believe I had an anxiety attack. I told Jerry I was worried about this happening. Again, thank you. I appreciate you helping me out,” expressed Raina gratefully.

As Raina continued to sip her water, Chris took the time to look at her. She was attractive, and he could tell she was a little bit younger than him. While this was Chris’s first-time meeting Raina, he had seen her before at other Hollywood functions. Neither having their paths cross until now.

“Okay, folks, let’s get back in your positions!” Mark yelled to get everyone’s attention.

“You going to be okay?” asked Chris as he stood up.

“Yes. I’m going to be fine,” answered Raina, standing up as well.

Chris helped her back up on the chair, and he returned to his spot next to Ashley. It was weird. No one else seemed to notice what went on between the two. It was like for those few short moments, Chris and Raina were in their own world. 

Chris kept stealing glances towards Raina for the rest of the shoot. He kept telling himself it was to make sure she was okay, not that he was drawn to her or anything. 

‘Don’t go there, Evans. The last thing you need is to be in a relationship, and she doesn’t look like the type to do hookups,’ Chris scolded himself and added, ‘Most likely won’t ever see her again after this day.’

“I am glad that it didn’t take long for us to meet again after that day. We do have Scott and Shanna to thank for that, by the way,” Chris happily reminded Raina.

He decided to call her that morning after their text exchange. He preferred hearing her voice anyways. 

“Oh yeah, at my concert in Boston. It was fate. We were destined to be friends.”

“Yep. Even though you are a fan of the New York Mets and Giants fan, I still love ya,” teased Chris.

Raina groaned, “Let us not bring up sports, shall we. It can only get ugly from here. Anyways, I’ll let you go. I gotta start heading out for rehearsals. Talk to you later. Bye,” said Raina.

“Bye, sweetheart. Take care,” replied Chris and ended the call. 

He looked over at Dodger, who had finished eating and was now lying in one of his dog beds near the kitchen table. As Chris continued to sip his coffee, he decided to make breakfast and went to the fridge to take some eggs. Once he got everything ready to begin cooking, his mind drifted to Raina. Chris noticed that his mind had been doing that more recently lately. 

For Chris, his relationship with Raina was more than just a friendship. She was someone he could confide in about things he was not comfortable bringing up to his family or close childhood friends. Their friendship evolved when both began a “friends with benefits” type of relationship. This would only occur when both were not in committed relationships with other people. 

Surprisingly, this arrangement only managed to make them closer friends. The boundaries they agreed upon were put in place not to fracture their friendship. He went into the situation not wanting to build some domesticated life with Raina. However, at times, Chris kept thinking if he could turn his friendship with Raina into something more. Something more than friends, more than sex buddies, but as a life partner. A wife and mother to his children.

‘Stop lying to yourself,’ Chris’s inner voice spoke up, ‘You’re in love with Raina. Just admit it!’

Nevertheless, Chris could not admit to himself. He was not ready to deal with those feelings for one of his closest friends. 

Not yet, at least. 

[supermarvelgirl15]

One Man Band

Summary: Dean Winchester has played in the Los Angeles for a couple years, trying to get a break through with his music. He always felt like he was missing a melody in his life. That was until he possibly found someone to sing the tune.

Pairing: AU!Dean × OC Faith Ramsey (reader)

Word Count: 1,526

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi! This is my first one shot on here, so I apologise for any mistakes. Feedback is welcome! This is based off the song One Man Band by Old Dominion. Enjoy!

××××××

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Dean groans as he sits up in his Impala, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He reaches for his phone on the dash and turns the alarm off. It was six thirty in the morning, giving Dean time to get ready for one of the busiest times of the day in Los Angeles.

Stepping out of his beloved car, he stretches out all of his limbs. Dean takes a deep breath as he looks around the parking garage that he had stayed the night in. Since the only way he earned money was from playing his guitar, he didn't have enough to buy a place to stay in a city such as Los Angeles, so his car would have to do.

He climbs back into his car and cranks it up, Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl blasting on the radio. Dean flinches slightly at the volume as he quickly turns it down. He changes the station until he finds a song the satisfies him before he pulls off.

Dean later pulls up to a familiar place with the lit up sign that reads ‘Benny's Café’. After he parks his car, he walks into the cafe, smelling the delicious breakfast that was being prepared in the kitchen. He sits in his regular seat, which was a corner booth, as he pulls out his notebook that was filled with songs that was written by him from his bag.

“Good mornin’, Winchester. I see that you're just in time to help clean the place before the morning rush comes through.” The chef and owner, Benny, says as he steps out of the kitchen.

Dean shakes his head, smiling slightly, before he looks up at his friend. “This place would be dirty as hell if it weren't for me,” Dean jokes as he stands up from his seat, closing his secretive notebook.

Benny shakes Dean's hand as he walks to the counter. “You might be right about that, brother. You know where the rag is, get to it,” Benny calls as he returns back to the kitchen.

Dean walks behind the counter to grab the rag and bucket, filling it up with clean water. He cleans the counter before he makes his round to each table. When he finishes, he washes the rag out and cleans himself up just as Benny turns on the neon open sign.

“Here's the usual,” Benny states as he lays down a plate of eggs, bacon, and hash browns, along with a black coffee. Dean mutters a thank you before digging into his delicious breakfast.

Under his coffee, he finds a twenty dollar bill. “Benny, we agreed that...”

“I know, I know. Just call it a head start on today's pay at the subway,” Benny interrupts. He waves off Dean's protesting as he welcomes the customers that had just walked in.

After finishing his breakfast, Dean puts his things back into his backpack and hesitantly slips the twenty into his pocket. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he waves goodbye to Benny. “Better see ya tomorrow, bright and early. Unless you finally get a gig somewhere,” Benny calls out. “That'll be the day,” Dean calls back before he walks out the door.

It was a little after seven o'clock when Dean arrived at the subway. He grabbed his guitar and stool out of the backseat before he made his way to his normal spot, laying out his guitar case in front of him. He placed the stool down to sit on as he began to tune his guitar.

People rushed passed him to get to their designations, some pushing and shoving. The city was a weird place to live when someone like him lived in a place like Lawrence, Kansas all of his life. However, the more people there were, the higher the chance of getting paid.

Dean begun to strum the chords to Always by Bon Jovi. He took a couple breaths before he sang the first verse. “This Romeo is bleeding, but you can't see his blood...”

Four Hours Later...

Around fifty, maybe sixty, bucks laid in his open guitar case. A couple of people that were waiting for their train had stop to listen to him, and an elderly woman complemented his playing and singing abilities. It was sometime after eleven, but Dean felt exhausted. Doing the same routine everyday was starting to get dull.

Dean grabbed his water bottle and took a swig out of it. The somewhat cool water was refreshing as it went down his throat. He decided that maybe one more song wouldn't hurt, then he would be back in time for rush hour that late afternoon.

Picking his guitar back up, he strummed some random chords, waiting for a song to come to him. Maybe some Lynyrd Skynyrd would do the trick.

He picked the strings to the melody of one song that he had played what felt like a thousand times over the years. However, before he could start with the verse, someone had beat him to it.

“If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?”

Dean immediately stopped playing, scanning the subway to find the voice that had mesmerized him. Across from him was a woman with a Virginia Cavaliers football hoodie, singing the song that he was previously playing.

“For I must be traveling on now, ’cause there's too many places I've got to see.”

She was singing aloud, a melody obviously playing in her head. A tin box was on the ground in front of her, so she was here for the same reason Dean was.

Before he even knew it, he picked up from where she had left off in the song, and started strumming it.

“But if I stayed here with you, girl, things just couldn't be the same.”

It was her who stopped this time to see who had joined her on her singing. She looked around until she made eye contact with Dean, smiling slightly to herself. They silently made the agreement to continue it together.

“’Cause I'm a free as a bird now, and this bird, you cannot change.”

They both continued to sing the song together, sometimes taking turns. Strangers would had thought that they had sung this song multiple times together before. People had stopped to listen to them, and it was the biggest crowd of people that Dean had gained for an audience.

Bills had found their way into both Dean's guitar case and the woman's tin box. This was the most money Dean had made on one song alone.

When the song came to an end, the crowd cheered them on, and Dean felt like he was on top of the world. He looked across to see the woman smiling, and God, it was breathtaking.

Soon after, the crowd had dispersed, and Dean had to talk to the woman that started the same melody as him. It would be idiotic if he didn't. He quickly put all the money in his bag, where it would wait until it was counted later, and placed his guitar into it's case. Dean ran his fingers into his hair to fix it up some and took a deep breath before walking over to her.

“That was... awesome,” Dean complimented her, mentally cringing at himself. The woman smiled up at him. “Yeah, I know. You can play the guitar very well. And your singing isn't too bad either,” she replied as she picked up her tin box.

Dean set down his guitar and stuck out his hand. “My name's Dean Winchester,” he introduced himself. The woman gladly shook his outstretched hand. “Faith Ramsey.”

“So, I haven't seen you around here before. Are you new in town?” Dean questions as he picks up his guitar. “Yeah, just got here a couple days ago. I've been trying to get here for a little over a year now,” Faith answers, shrugging slightly.

Dean gives her a sympathetic smile. “It's not all what it's cut out to be, is it?”

Faith sighs and nods, putting her tin box in her backpack. “But hey, I did just have a mini concert with a stranger I met in the subway. I'd call that a win," she smiles at him. Dean shakes his head, chuckling to himself. “I'd call that a win, too,” he says.

She throws her bag over her shoulder, looking down the poorly lit subway. “I guess I'll see you around, Dean. It was nice meeting you. Maybe we can do it again someday?” Faith says, looking back at him.

Dean's face falls a little, but he hides the disappointment that follows. “Yeah, maybe,” he replies. Faith gives him one last smile before she heads down the subway to the stairs that lead up to the unforgiving city.

As Dean watched her walk away, lyrics filled his mind. He didn't know where they came from, but he would have to write them down when he gets back to his car.

I found you like a melody

You were singin’ in the same key as me

We had ’em dancin’ in the streets

××××××

[walls-dmc5]

Walls - 1st chapter “Gathering”

Words: 3,6k

Warnings: none

Hope you enjoy! 🌹

The young woman swung her backpack over one shoulder after Kyle, she confirmed his name during the relatively calm drive through town, and some fellow soldiers brought her to the address these soldiers gave him earlier. She watched the light truck as it disappeared around a corner before she turned her attention back to the situation at hand.

She was standing in front of a huge, and seemingly also pretty old building with its ornate double front door and equally as huge windows; the building was almost striking in this environment. The huge neon sign above it kind of seemed out of place though.

However, her attention was immediately drawn to the car on the left. An older man was leaning onto it, a hand in his pocket. He was neatly dressed, she noted, and it also seemed to be the guy the soldiers were mentioning before. She was told that he would be waiting for her here at this address, and there was no one else in sight; the two streets leading to the left and right were completely empty; there were no other cars or people around, and only she could only see lights coming through the windows of the building in front of her. As the man approached her he took off his hat. There was a seriousness but also a kindness in his eyes that made it easy for her to meet him halfway.

“Mr. Morrison?”

“Yes, good evening, Miss…?” the young woman shook his hand as he offered his with a gentle smile on his face.

“Oh, it’s Cara Fiore, sir.” the young woman replied at the man’s unasked question. The man nodded.

“My apologies, ma’am, but the call I got from the base didn’t tell me your name. They just said their advisor would want to meet me because of what’s happening in Red Grave City. But please, you can leave the ‘sir’ be.”

Cara smiled. “Then likewise. My contract ended this afternoon, so there is no need for these formalities anymore for my part. And also, please, just Cara is fine.”

Basically she came here in private, she had no affiliations with the military or another organization at the moment, so dropping the formalities and letting other people use her given name felt really liberating. She just hoped now, that the man could help her or at least give her some answers. Some answers that could help her come up with an idea on what to do, to not let all these soldiers and people die in vain today, to get rid of these demons that overran the city…

“Well then, Cara, how can I help you?” Mr. Morrison asked and Cara couldn’t help but think that there was a urgency hidden in his voice as if he was low on time or actually did not have any interest to talk to her; although the latter seemed unlikely judging just by looking at his posture or how polite he was. She thought for a moment to gather her thoughts.

“I was in charge for the strategy behind the military’s mission to deal with what’s happening in Red Grave City,” she made a pause here and took a deep breath “I assume you know what happened. A lot of people… too many people died today. And while I know I did all I could,” she hesitated a moment as if she needed to convince herself of it again.

“I still feel like it’s on me. My knowledge should’ve helped today. But it did nothing. Absolutely nothing… The guys at the base said you’d know someone who can deal with this. And that’s why I wanted to meet you. I wanna help. I wanna do something.” She stopped as she felt she started getting emotional again. The man looked at her, listening attentively, only his brows furrowed a bit by the end.

“Do you have experience in dealing with demons by yourself?” he asked after a long pause.

“I’ve been hunting demons for most of my life.”

Cara was confident in her skills. Sure, she was human, so her abilities and skills were limited, but she never had issues facing demons so far. She was a fighter. That’s what she was raised to be after all. Mr. Morrison seemed to think for a long moment before he finally spoke up again.

“Please follow me,” he said, and turned around, heading right for the old building with the huge neon sign above its door; he put on his hat while walking again. Cara adjusted the strap of her backpack again and followed the man; a sense of nervousness but also curiosity settling deep in her stomach.

There was an instantly unnerving atmosphere hitting Cara like a gust of wind when she stepped past the threshold. She immediately noticed that something was just off. It wasn’t a depressive or even hostile aura, but intense nonetheless. There were four people in the spacious room. A man to her right simply standing in the room, one man sitting behind a desk in front of her, a woman in front of her sitting - almost laying - on the table, and another woman to her left, walking down a staircase that was leading to an upper floor.

And each one of them had their very own aura surrounding them, heavy and intense, and each of them seemed to collide with that of the others.

It made Cara feel uneasy.

Every single one of these individuals had a story to tell, a tale they all kept hidden within them but that was still all around them. Everything about these people, even the room they were standing in seemed to bear secrets to a story only they knew about and it created a wall around them hard, if not impossible, for a bystander to overcome.

Cara felt like an intruder.

The young woman tried to ignore the feeling of uneasiness setting in the pit of her stomach and observed the inside of the building just like she always did. Her eyes looking around without moving her head and without too many frantic movements. A habit and a means to protect herself. To shield herself from any potential danger, even if she was in a completely safe environment, but the atmosphere around her made all of her own walls come up immediately.

The entire place seemed pretty shabby as if it hasn’t been cleaned or tidied up in months. There were empty bottles, sheets of papers, random objects lying around everywhere, posters were half hanging off the walls, the carpet beneath the desk has probably never been cleaned; just the plant next to the desk seemed to be pretty healthy.

The persons have been talking when they came in but of course they stopped once they saw not only a friend (Cara at least assumed as such) entering but also a stranger.

The fact that she now had all the people in the room staring at her wasn’t what made her uncomfortable. She was used to that due to her work, especially with the military. After all she was the one who briefed the soldiers before the start of each mission that required her input. However, what made her uncomfortable was the fact that all this intensity that surrounded each of the present people was now directed at her. And also it seemed as if she just interrupted an important conversation between colleagues or – more likely – friends.

“Morrison,” the man behind the desk said, and Cara was incredibly relieved that the sound in his voice was rather optimistic, no hostility, no ill will, There was no strain or tension in his voice nor any discomfort because there was a stranger now in the room disrupting whatever was happening here. And still there was this air around him whispering that there was more behind that invisible wall. An air that got twirled with a sense of energy that Cara has felt before just never like this. It raised her suspicion, but also her interest.

“Didn’t expect you to bring a guest over after you left so suddenly,” the man said and gestured with his open hand to Cara.

“Must be someone important when you bring her here right before we depart.”, the woman on the stairs said. Cara couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was a judgemental tone in her voice, and while it also wasn’t ill willed it also wasn’t very welcoming. That woman was incredibly wary of Cara, two differently colored eyes staring directly at her and looking her over. Beautiful eyes, hard and watchfully. They told a story all of their own of hardship and conviction and yet they hid anything Cara was not supposed to see and know. But Cara also couldn’t blame her for the woman’s judgement and caution.

Was she any different right now?

“Why don’t you introduce her to us?” the blonde woman, who was almost laying on the table, stood up from and walked behind the chair where the man was sitting, putting a hand on the backrest of the chair. Her tone was friendly, just like the man she didn’t seem to be really put off by her presence at all. Even her expression was one of friendliness. But, just as the rest of them there was something about her. And with her it was completely different compared to the others. There wasn’t an air around her. It was an energy, similar to that of the man’s but more conscious like a sparkling electric wire wrapped around her promising Cara a tale of strength and endurance. Cara hoped it didn’t show on her face, but she knew that kind of energy. She’s faced it countless times before.

Cara couldn’t deny it, now that she knew these were friendly people, that she was incredibly curious about what secrets they kept hidden within and between themselves, and she could feel some of the uneasy feeling in her body fading. The tension that was left in her body was because of what’s happening outside of this building and in Red Grave City.

But not only that.

Cara could feel eyes burning into the side of her skull, and it bothered her. She didn’t turn to the side to look at the man that was standing there, but she knew he was staring at her, looking her over, analyzing, observing their newly arrived guest. It induced the same kind of atmosphere around her whenever she arrived at a new job and she could feel some nerves in her body starting to tingle as her shoulders tensed slightly.

“Ah, yes, this Cara. She was the leading advisor for the military operation in Red Grave City,” Mr. Morrison introduced her, taking off his hat again.

“Didn’t go as planned I assume?” there was an almost lighthearted tone in the man’s voice behind the desk, which irritated Cara immensely. People died?! Half the city got destroyed already and so many completely innocent people died while demons roamed the streets? Was that man serious? Cara frowned.

“It is Dante’s job,” Mr. Morrison nodded towards the man behind the desk, “to take care of that mess.”

So that’s the guy the soldiers at the camp were referring to… Cara couldn’t deny that the atmosphere that surrounded him spoke of strength and courage. One look was enough to tell he was capable of dealing with the demons, but she didn’t understand his almost cheerfulness. At all.

“Ah, indeed,” the man, Dante, got up and walked around the desk, rolling in shoulders while doing so. Cara couldn’t understand his enthusiasm, but… if it helped, and if it led to getting rid of that tree…

“We’ll take it from here,” the blonde woman said, confidence nearly oozing from her voice. If Cara’s assumption about the woman was correct, and she usually was never wrong with these things, then she actually had no doubt that these people could take better care of the situation now. Especially since even the military failed…

“The military probably should have stayed out of this from the beginning,” the woman at the foot of the staircase said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“We’ve faced demons before and succeeded easily. We weren’t prepared for such an invasion.” Cara countered, for the first time raising her voice since she came into this building. She has worked with the military for years and they never faced such difficulties. Neither she nor anyone of the military could have done anything to turn this mission around after all.

Still feels like I could have…

A short moment of silence followed before Dante rose to speak again. “Well, anyways, what do you want? I don’t imagine you’d just come here to say hi.”

Cara held his gaze, her own blue eyes colliding with his incredibly bright blue ones, and inwardly she gathered herself, reminding herself that she should stay professional. That she was here in the first place was based entirely on emotions, letting them win over her now again wouldn’t get her anywhere.

“I want to help.” Her voice was steady and even, but the hand that was holding the backpack on her shoulder clenched the string almost painfully. A gesture that probably didn’t go unnoticed. Especially not by the man that was still watching her who had the clearest view at her right hand.

“I know… I did my job, and I did it right. But…” She inhaled deeply, convincing herself again of the truth behind her words, “it still feels like it’s on me. So… I want to help. Someone at the camp said you could deal with this.”

“And how exactly do you think you can help, sweetie?” the question was almost instant even though Dante talked very slowly, that rather lighthearted expression still on his face. Cara wished she could follow his example and be a bit more optimistic. These people definitely held power, a strength she couldn’t fathom in this moment, but she knew they were her best shot at getting this situation right again.

“I’m a demon hunter too. Also I’ve studied demons for years-“

“I don’t think theories and books can win this,” the black haired woman cut in, though her tone was much softer than before. Cara’s face fell a bit. She already felt like an intruder from the beginning. She didn’t fit in here with these people, all of them were connected by secrets and tales. She could see how history bound them. These people weren’t just colleagues fighting for the same cause. These seemed more like family. How could she hope for these people to just accept her? Especially if they knew nothing about her. Even less so about her skills.

“Well, I think, Lady, our V here would disagree,” there was a mild teasing tone in Dante’s voice, though Cara didn’t pay much attention to it as she finally looked at the man who stood in complete silence and kept staring at her since she arrived here.

A tall, slender man, covered in a black leather vest stood close to the wall, leaning on a metal cane. Cara’s gaze was instantly fixed on all these twirling tattoos that covered his arms and parts of his open chest. They almost looked alive like waves of clouds and smoke traveling over his body. Fascinating patterns, which made Cara wonder if they served a purpose, if there was a meaning to them…

Cara met his eyes and had a hard time keeping the contact. They were beautiful, an almost objective fact, but the green in them was hard, not granting her a look behind that unyielding layer of color.

His posture spoke of confidence. He knew his purpose and intent in this room, there was no doubt in his stance, no question in his eyes.

And yet there seemed to be a hidden vulnerability about him that he hid well behind his walls of confidence. The shadows under his eyes, his lean figure, the cane… but these were visible, completely open facts, he did not allow a deeper look at him or what he hid beneath his appearance.

He was pressing his walls right into hers, while also trying to penetrate her own. He was observing, analyzing but didn’t allow her to do the same. He kept his barriers up well. It created an intimidating air around him, which was probably his intention and Cara couldn’t even catch a tiny glimpse at what laid beneath those deep green eyes.

She turned to face Dante again, now even more aware of the man, V, next to her.

“Please. Let me help,” she didn’t give the tattooed man a chance to speak, and her emotions were dripping from her words now. Dante studied her face for a moment, his brows furrowing, a sympathetic look on his eyes and still, Cara could see that he wasn’t about to let her tag along…

“I think, Dante,” Cara felt a shiver run down her spine as a deep voice sounded suddenly, a voice she didn’t expect and that caught her completely off guard, and Cara looked at the lean man again as he took a few steps forward, his cane in his hands and only leaning onto it again as he stopped walking.

“We can take her with us. Some help at the ground is surely in our favor,” the man was speaking really slowly as if he was contemplating his phrasing while he spoke, and Cara wished he could see his expression, wanted to see if there was a change in those green eyes. But she could only see his back now that he has taken some steps forward.

Dante looked at the man, his brows furrowed before he looked at her again and his expression changed to one of defeat and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Alright, but,” he held up his finger, pointing at her, “you stay away from the tree, this is my gig.”

Cara tried to ignore how he seemed to chastise her like a child. Instead she nodded, saying a quiet thank you, and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief that they gave her the chance of getting this right. She would do what she could to help. And right now she didn’t have a lot of options than to take what she could get. She knew going to Red Grave City to jump into battle all by herself would kill her. She needed help.

“That should also be the cue for us to get going,” the black haired woman, Lady was what Dante called her earlier(?), said as she grabbed a huge fire arm that was leaning against the stair case and swung it over her shoulder. Cara admired her for that. That thing must be heavy as hell.

“Right. Let’s get started, ladies,” Dante said clapping his hands together, an enthusiastic grin on his face. Cara still found it more suspect than admirable that he was so cheerful given the situation.

There was a little, sudden tumult as all these very unique individuals geared up apparently, grabbing weapons like swords and guns. Cara observed how them while they did that, feeling a little out of place in that building in that moment. She was not part of that team. There was nothing that bound her to these people. Unlike them. They knew each other and they shared something – a history – and Cara assumed this was something she couldn’t establish with them

She would help them. Get this right again. And then hopefully continue her life and work the way she has done before.

“Alright, then I leave this to you. Cara, I bid my farewell,” Mr. Morrison nodded towards her, putting his hat back on and after she thanked him for his help left the building. Cara admitted she felt a bit lost now. Mr. Morrison seemed to be on her side and now when that support’s gone… she felt a bit alone.

“Let’s go then.” The blonde woman had a huge fleshy sword on her back and Cara immediately wanted to ask her about it. She came across many demon arms in her life, either in person or in theory, but this was something completely new. It was disgustingly looking but it was also strangely fascinating.

“I’m Trish by the way.” The woman smiled at her, laying a hand on her shoulder as she walked past Cara outside of the building and that intense feeling of energy was back again. A hidden power within that woman, lingering on her fingertips, threatening to spill over to Cara but never actually doing so. Cara felt a distinct tingle where Trish’s fingers touched her bare shoulder.

She seems really nice though, Cara thought.

V in front of her turned around as well, throwing his cane slightly up and catching it with the same hand again so he could carry it properly while walking. Cara followed that movement a bit too closely for her own liking. The tattooed man walked past her, a smirk on his features that made her heart skip a bit. It was intimidating. And again, it felt as if the walls he pulled up around him pushed Cara aside when he passed her, as if he had an invincible shield around his personal space that kept everything and everyone at a notable distance.

She wondered if this was the same situation for the others.

Or just her. A stranger. An intruder.

Someone you couldn’t trust.

Cara exhaled deeply through her nose and left the building, following the two other women and V, hearing Dante’s heavy footsteps behind her.

[dead-gay-bitxh]

This is a thing I did a month or two ago for my new favorite ship/ot3. It’s on ao3, on my account DeathDirt, so give it some love there, too. Anyway, enjoy! It’s 5k word count and T rating, just so you guys know.

Of all fucking days, it’s today. Today, Mako’s fucking birthday, the day Gabe said he’d be there one-hundred percent sure, that his sister has to break her goddamn leg. He’s not sure who he feels worse for - his sister, for making him miss such a big event, or his boyfriend, for having to go without Gabe for the whole day, if not longer. At the very least, as Gabe lifts Isabella up, cautious of touching her broken limb, he has to text Mako to tell him he probably won’t be at school or able to come over until the day after.

As usual, it’s a one-word reply: ‘ok’.

Gabe almost wishes his boyfriend would get verbally mad at him sometimes. But he can’t think on it long. Isabella is wailing - which is fair, she’s six - and Gabe needs to get her to the hospital before the bone gets pushed further out of place. Without any real materials to make a temporary splint out of, Gabriel pulls his hoodie over his head and wraps it tightly around Isabella’s leg, despite her continued crying. “Hey, hey, calm down, it’s fine. I know it hurts, but just calm down. I’m gonna take you to the doctor, get your leg fixed. Here, drink this and then we should be there,” Gabe quickly reassures, handing over a water bottle while he nearly launches himself into the front seat of the old beater he has been driving for a year now.

He’s still careful in his haste, but his anxiety is building. It doesn’t help that Isabella makes little whines every now and again between sips of water. Not to mention that the traffic town at this time of day was surprisingly thick. Morning rush hour was usually right before the high school morning bell. Just his luck that today, everyone was running late.

It probably only took twenty minutes to get to the hospital downtown, but the seconds dragged on like days. Gabriel grabbed his little sister, who had since stopped crying quite so hard, and pushed into the front door. Thankfully Angela was working an internship today, so the minute he walked in, she was waiting. “Gabriel! Over here!” She called, waving a hand to get his attention. There was a bed against the wall and Angela waved for him to put Isabella on it. The young woman called down one of the doctors while rewrapping Isabella’s leg as best she could. When the presiding doctor wheeled the bed off, Angela huffed. “You’re lucky he’s so intent on getting into my pants, Gabriel,” She muttered under her breath, “He might’ve stayed to flirt if he wasn’t.” Gabe snorted.

“What happened to being taken?”

“It doesn’t matter if I tell them Fareeha’s more than capable of knocking them on their asses, they just push harder. I’ve given up. Speaking of which, what have you told your parents?” Gabe sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. His mother would have a whole cow when she heard, and his father would probably be stuck trying to direct her to do something else while he took care of it. As of yet, he hadn’t given them any information, just that Isabella had gotten herself hurt.

“You aren’t making your case any-” Gabe waved her off. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m calling them. Do I have to wait here until…?” Angela nodded, hesitant. She knew exactly what day it was too, how much it meant to her friend. Even if she never really liked Mako or his friend Jamison, she appreciated how committed Gabriel was to spending time with them. Gabriel stepped away to make the somewhat-unpleasant call, and Angela took the opportunity to step away and check on his sister.

As expected, his mother nearly fainted on the phone. His father was a little less dramatic, just telling his son that he could stay home since he was already going to be so late to school, and that he’d be there in about an hour and a half to properly sign in and do the paperwork. Gabe slumped into the first chair he saw in the waiting room, empty as the abandoned buildings on the east side of town.

For a moment, he sat quietly, contemplating whether he should stay in the hospital or if his dad basically just gave him the go ahead to go back home. Before he could make an executive decision, his phone buzzed. A message, from Jamie.

Jam-Jam: hell happend? hoggy said you bailed

Gabe frowned at the words on the screen. He didn’t bail. His sister just didn’t mind the dozens of warnings not to play on the stupid rope swing until someone got around to fixing it.

Gabe: i didnt bail. sis had an accident, had to take her to the hospital. parents are probably gonna put me on house arrest for letting her get hurt Jam-Jam: awwwwwwww Jam-Jam: that sucks m8 Jam-Jam: ill tell mako Jam-Jam: tell bell i said hi Gabe: no problem. also don’t spam text, you numnutz Jam-Jam: fuk off mate

Gabe snickered as the dope on the other end sent a picture of a doodle on some test or homework of a rodent flipping him off. Even if he couldn’t see it, Gabe happily returned the gesture. Unfortunately - and also expectedly - nobody actually got to the hospital until noon, far past the hour and a half he was promised. But Gabe was used to waiting around. He entertained himself, flirting with the nurses that came by or teasing Angela or, on the rare occasion, making small talk with a patient or two. Mako had a habit of getting sick frequently, so Gabe knew some of the other frequent hospital visitors. He didn’t know half their names, but most of them knew him enough to talk comfortably.

When lunchtime rolled around, Gabe was almost ready to really bail out when his own father walked in the door. First Sergeant Gabriel Ignacio Reyes, Sr., six-foot-two, built like the Marines crafted him by hand (which they may as well have, in all honesty), all muscle from top to bottom despite the fact that he was reaching his forties. Sometimes Gabriel felt incredibly uncomfortable around his father; when he was young, all the neighbors would coo and swoon about how little Gabi looked so much like his papí, but now that he was older, the resemblance to his father was horrifyingly uncanny. In fact, other than perhaps the softer edges from his mother’s influence and the lack of facial hair, it was hard to tell the two apart.

“Gabriel, where’s your sister?” His father quickly demanded, keeping a soft voice while still holding an air of authority in his native tongue. “In a room. I’ll get Angela to show you which one,” Gabriel replied, leaving his seat to wave down the blonde. As soon as she spoke with his father, Gabe braced himself internally for the expected ‘I’ll deal with you when I get home’. Instead, the two walked with Angela down to the room, where she left them a small stack of paperwork, then left. “How are you, mija?” The girl sniffled a bit, and Gabriel fought not to snort at her obvious theatrics. From the barest turn of his lips, Gabe could tell his father knew exactly what she was doing too. “T-the doctor said I broke my l-leg,” Isabella whined, wiping at her wet, red eyes. “How did you break it?” The man asks gently. Suddenly his daughter is much more conservative with her crying, down to sniffling and occasionally wiping her eyes. “Isabella.” The sharp tone stuns the little girl out of her refusal. “I… I was playing on the rope.”

“The one me and your mamí told you not to play on?”

“Yes…”

“And did Gabriel know what you were doing?”

“No…” Thank God he was going to be out of the house before his sister could learn how to throw him under the bus. Isabella was still in the childhood phase of ‘honesty is the best policy’. It wasn’t a bad thing, just unrealistic, in Gabriel’s eyes. Long term, anyway. “Well,” Gabriel said, looking to his son behind him, “I’m going to have to punish you in some way when you get home.” Isabella whined, but her father stopped her with a look. “You ignored your mother and I when we told you not to play on that rope, and Gabriel didn’t know where you were. You know I don’t like to punish you two, but when I must, I must.” That made the teen wince, just a bit. He couldn’t remember if he did anything terribly wrong in the past week. Hopefully it was just his dad being fair while Isabella was upset and nothing else.

The doctor walked in, trying to comb his hair over his balding head with a free hand. He seemed to jolt when he walked in, but quickly resumed the expression of someone on the job. Albeit more forced. “Are you…Mr. Reyes?” Gabriel nodded, starting to follow as the doctor gestured, but stopped before he could leave the room. He turned, grabbed the papers Angela had delivered, turned to his son, and lightly knocked his shoulder. With a decidedly fatherly smile, Gabriel nodded his head towards the door. “Go on, mijo. I’m sure you’re ready to get out. Tell Morrison his old man still owes me a night out, too, if you see him tonight.” Gabe tilts his head. “Tonight?”

“Isn’t it your boyfriend’s birthday?” Gabe seems to be trying to sink into his hoodie. He really tries to keep his relationship away from the rest of his family, more out of respect than anything else. “Mijo, you’d better not stay home from this if you expect to get anywhere with him. Your sister is fine. Go out, have fun. While you can,” his father added jokingly as he left the room. Not but a moment later, his mother came in, halfway to tears. She seemed to be trying to hold it together, and not doing as well as she might’ve thought. “Go on, mijo. I’ll stay here,” she assured, voice shaky and decidedly not assuring at all. Gabe sighed, quickly making his way down to the entrance. If both his parents were telling him to leave, he’d need a padlock and heavy-duty chains to be allowed to stay.

Not that he was itching to. Hospitals were not his favorite place. They were sterile and cold and uncaring. Gabriel preferred places that were like his own house - warm and inviting, just begging to get dirty and used so they could get fixed and then dirtied again. It was an odd feeling, but maybe that was just what home felt like.

Probably why he liked Mako and Jamie so damn much. They weren’t afraid to get down and dirty, to play in the mud like kids, then clean up and relax in a big dog pile afterwards.

It was midday, so the parking lot was more or less empty other than the employees’ cars. Gabe opened up his beaten little sedan, pausing for a cursory sniff before he got in. The thing had a habit of picking up smells on a whim, as old cars do, despite the fact that Gabriel has washed the whole thing, inside and out, no less than four times. For a moment, he sits, waiting for something stupid. It’s only because he’s gotten worked up from his sister getting hurt, but Gabe is sure that any moment, some punk-ass white kids are going to break open the window and either pummel him to death or just shoot him. He sits for five whole minutes, minimum, before he gets a text from his mother asking why he’s still in the parking lot. Gabe blew out a sigh and smiled to himself - his parents were fucking saps.

Another text cheerily bleeped on his phone. Jack now.

Blondie #3: Gabe are you ok? Jamie said your sister got hurt. <:( Gabe: fine. bell was just playing on the rope mom and dad always tell her not to fuck with Blondie #3: That’s great! Blondie #3: Well not GREAT, but… I’m happy you’re not hurt. Gabe: wow, you care so much you dumbass Blondie #3: I’m SORRY Gabe: yeah yeah whatev. you have fifth with mako right Blondie #3: Yeah. Why? Gabe: want you to tell him ill be there tonight. thought my parents would ground me or something for letting isabella get hurt but dad’s chill with it

Jack sent back a happy face, which meant he was probably looking like an idiot in the middle of fourth period with his giant goddamn grin that he always got when he was excited. Really Jack, you couldn’t be any more subtle? Gabe shook his head and started the car up. It took a few tries, but once it did start, it was ready to go. He rolled out of the parking lot and into the quiet street, only occasionally passing another vehicle despite it being downtown. School was going to be out in about three-and-a-half hours, so there was time to get ready. Amélie and Olivia had taken the day off to get some little things organized for Mako’s birthday, so Gabe shot them both a text that he’d join them. Mel sent back a spider and Olivia sent back a skull. For some reason, those were just their signs for ‘ok’, even though it probably took more time to hit the fucking emojis than it did to just type it out.

“Oh, you’ll have fun big guy! Had spidey ‘n glitchy set the whole thing up. Promise ya, it’ll be just what ya like!” Jamie couldn’t stop talking, which was perfectly fine. That was just how he was. Rather than replying outright, Mako just nodded and huffed and occasionally snorted in laughter. He knew that the little gang of friends he’d managed to gather were absolutely crazy about this party, for whatever reason. If it’d been up to him, the whole event would have been condensed down into a weekend movie marathon, since it was Friday, but everyone - including the down-to-earth and blunt Akande - had insisted he let them do this.

The only bummer was that Gabriel wouldn’t be there. It wouldn’t have been the first time his boyfriend was forced to miss out on something like this because of something that happened that got him into trouble, but it stung more because they were technically official. Hell, even Jack, Gabe’s best friend since elementary, wasn’t sure they were dating until they came right out and said it a few months ago. But, such is life and all that. Mako supposed he could deal with the late night cutesie texting for a while.

His house didn’t look much different when they walked up to it from the street. But that didn’t always mean much - when they got into party planning, Amélie and Olivia got into it. Jamie peered in the window, then suddenly cackled with laughter. Mako only rolled his eyes, motioning for Jamie to get up to the door as he opened it. There was no immediate heart attack, so everyone had learned to go easy on the ‘surprise’ part of the surprise party. What Mako didn’t expect was for a tongue to just crawl right up the shell of his ear.

It wasn’t the worst thing to ever be done to him, but it was unexpected, so he turned with the intent of either elbowing or shoving the offender out of the way, except Gabe was grinning like an asshole. “Surprise,” he whispered, winking before he threw his arms around Mako’s neck. “Piggy pile!” Jamie yelled, immediately jumping right onto the other two boys. From out of absolutely nowhere, Amélie and Olivia joined in on the hug, everyone squeezing their older friend like he was about to go to war.

“You’re all mental,” Mako grunted, still revelling in the soft embrace he found himself in the middle of. “Don’t worry, hermoso, there’s plenty more coming,” Olivia assured with a quick kiss on the young man’s cheek. While the other three ran off to do whatever, Mako was left with Gabriel, who was perfectly happy to use his boyfriend like a personal body pillow. “Thought you weren’t gonna be here,” Mako mumbled, nuzzling into Gabe’s neck. Gabriel looked just a bit sheepish, enough for the larger boy to feel sorry for him. In return, Gabe squeezed just a little around Mako’s neck. “Didn’t think my dad would let me off easy when he came by,” Gabe confessed. He sighed against Mako’s shoulder, easing into the hand that settled on his back. Suddenly, he jolted up, looking frantically around the room until he spotted what he wanted, grabbed it, and held the box out to his boyfriend.

“Had this made a while ago. Figured this would be a good time to give it to you.” Mako took the box. It was light, barely any heavier than the cardboard that gave frame to the wrapping paper. Whatever it was, he trusted Gabe to not give him anything kitschy or cheap. Even if Mako was perfectly fine with kitschy and cheap. “If you wanna open it now…” Gabe trailed off, hands shoved into his hoodie the way he did when he felt nervous. It didn’t show on his face, but anyone who knew him well could tell when the young man was nervous. And if he was nervous, he probably spent some time making or thinking out this gift.

Mako decided to spare his boyfriend any more theatrics, tearing open the bright green wrapping paper to reveal a standard brown cardboard box. There were holes cut out in the sides, like an animal’s carrying case, and Mako is strongly reminded of the bright blue snake Jamie brought him once as a ‘gift’. He pushes through regardless, and opens up the box. Inside is a stuffed pig. It’s limbs aren’t quite symmetrical and the little tiara it had on was crooked, but it was obviously made with meticulous care and love. It also has a tiny collar on, with a card hanging off of it. Mako flips the card over. It reads ‘My name is Duchess. I am a miniature pot-bellied pig. I hope we can be best friends!’ in a very familiar script. The stuffed animal is black on its head and legs, with little pink ears and a pink splotch over its belly and one eye. Its eyes are matte black buttons, sewn on almost perfectly. The whole thing is also pretty big for a normal stuffed toy, big enough that Mako would have to hold it against his chest or belly if he only had one hand.

It was absolutely beautiful. Mako lifted the stuffed pig out of the box. The last time he remembered using or owning a stuffed animal like this was right before his family moved, when he was three. “Do you like it?” Mako glanced up to the young man nervously flicking his eyes from the stuffed toy to his boyfriend. “It was my first time trying something like that. I had help, but-” Gabe is cut off by thick arms pulling him close. Instantly, he relaxes against the warm body. “Love it,” Mako mutters, pressing a kiss into Gabe’s hair. Gabriel sighed, content, remaining as he was until the front door popped open. “That’s cute,” Moira commented dryly, brushing past the two into the back of the house. Gabe was about to tell her to fuck off but Mako’s grip on him made the young man relax again.

“Ooh! He gave it to you!” Olivia squealed. She practically bounced off the walls to get around the two in an attempt to see the stuffed animal. “Gabe said he’d worked on it for weeks! Didn’t ever say what it was, show it off, hombre!” Mako lifted the (now) favorite toy up for the girl to inspect. She looked over it with a critical eye, having a near-mountain of such toys at home. “Seams are a little crooked on its head and these arms aren’t lined up quite right,” Olivia mumbled in an analytic tone. “But it’s good for a first-time job. Atta-boy, Gabi,” she added with a punch on Gabriel’s shoulder. The young man groaned a little, both at losing his boyfriend’s great hug and at being hit.

Amélie poked her head in from the kitchen. “Are you bringing them or not?” She growled. Olivia gave a sprightly wave that belonged on a fairy instead of this heathen. “Just a moment, mi amor, uno momento,” Olivia called after the other girl, followed quickly by a wistful sigh. She waved the two boys into the kitchen. Apparently some other people had arrived or been here that Mako didn’t notice. Olivia, Amélie, Jamie, and Moira were all in there, as expected, but Jack and Angela stood at the door, and Akande was off to the side, pretending like he was disinterested in the whole proceeding when he looked just as disgustingly gleeful as everyone else. They all surrounded the center island, covered in what was basically a giant collection of toothaches.

Rather than a cake, there were cookies and brownies and cupcakes strewn all over the place, all in various colors and stages of done-ness. The mess wasn’t something to sneeze at either. Rather than the sandy granite, the counters around the perimeter of the kitchen were all covered in white powder and flecks of icing. A few rags were tossed here and there, so cleaning had at least started. “Everyone kept arguing about what to make,” Jack sheepishly admitted to Gabe’s reddening face, “We just figured we’d cut out the arguing and do whatever we wanted. Don’t worry, Gabe, I’ve got a half-decent mini thing on the way for you guys. Emily made it.” The reassurance was all fine and well, but Gabe had told them all exactly how it was supposed to look - clean and untouched, other than the center island. Whatever. Gabriel huffed. “I’ll clean it up, don’t worry about it,” Angela timidly chimed in, “I don’t mind.” Right.

Mako sighed heavily and chuckled. “You went way too big, Gabe.” Everyone was straining to contain themselves as it was, so Mako just waved at them to go right ahead. A bystander might’ve thought the gathered teenagers were disguised piranhas with the intensity that they devoured the sweets with. There were a few gags that made Mako more than happy to eat whatever was left over. If anything. Actually, he’d just play it safe and send whatever was left home with Jack. His sister ate sweet things like a maniac; it didn’t matter how good or bad, if there was sugar in Jack’s house, it was gone within the week.

By the time everyone was finished, there might’ve been half a dozen cookies left. Olivia’s, which she insisted on giving to Amélie. Gabe and Mako were perfectly content to retreat to the livingroom after everybody helped themselves, cuddling under the warm blankets that always seemed to be baby-soft while Angela and the others - after some chastising and eyelash-batting - cleaned the kitchen up. Jamie walked in long before everyone else, snorting flour out of his nose. “Kicked me out,” he mumbled sullenly at Mako’s questioning look. The blond flopped onto the other end of the couch, pulling himself up on the larger man’s side opposite Gabriel. Jamie had a much better full-body embrace than Gabe did, Mako thought. It wasn’t bad, just a little indicative of the types of people they were. Jamie was loud, annoying at times, always ready to pop a joke or laugh at the first thing that excited him. Gabe was quiet, a little more seclusive and definitely more of a home-body than Mako’s sure he’d like to admit.

He never says these things, of course. Either people will find out who they are or they’ll delude themselves for the rest of their lives.

Nearly twenty minutes after Jamie came in, the rest of the group walks into the massive room, all covered in different amounts of flour and sugar and icing. Olivia and Amélie both have little pictures on their cheeks drawn in purple icing, a spider on Olivia and a sugar skull on Amélie. They’re so not-subtly gay for each other that it’s disgusting. Everyone takes their usual seats on the wide U-shaped couch, leaning back or on each other, depending on how friendly they were. Expectedly, Jack and Akande took completely opposite sides of the couch, Amélie and Olivia were cuddling close enough that Gabe was tempted to tell them that girls needed to use condoms too until Jamie beat him to it, Moira was, as usual, on the floor, doing some kind of homework like the weirdo she was, and Angela was somewhere in the middle to act as somewhat of a peacekeeper if things got out of hand. Specifically between Akande and Jack, but it wasn’t uncommon for random bouts of violence to spontaneously occur either.

After about ten minutes of silence, Olivia groans out loud and throws her hands up. “Is this really what we’re down to?! Just sitting around like a bunch of dead cats? Dios mio, Gabe, fuck your four boyfriends or something.” Gabe kicked at his cousin, scowling in her direction. It wasn’t mean, just annoyed. Olivia was insufferable when she was bored and the ‘four boyfriends’ comment was always the first thing out of her mouth when she got bored. Just because he was close and had - perhaps - experimented with some more risque ideas with Akande and Jack and Jamie before trying them with Mako was no reason to say they were all together. Gabe actually wasn’t sure that polyamory would be allowed - Mako could be surprisingly possessive at times.

Well… He’d be fine if it was just Jamie. Those two may as well have been dating anyway with how much Jamie would come along on Gabe and Mako’s days out.

“Go get a movie or something then,��� Gabe grouses, burrowing into his actual boyfriend’s neck. Almost in sync, Akande and Jack move to try and comfort him, but Jack is on the wrong side of the couch, and so has to suffer with the smug glare sent his way by Akande. “You two are impossible,” Amélie groans as Olivia rises to search through the high shelves for some kind of decent movie to watch. It’s hard to tell which “two” she was referring to, Olivia and Gabriel, or Akande and Jack. Both pairs were equally annoying to deal with even on a good day.

With Olivia and Gabe, it was a simple matter of family. Olivia and Gabriel were cousins, and so had the right to beat the shit out of each other on physical and verbal levels until they felt like stopping. Akande and Jack, however, had a whole different set of problems. Gabe had met Jack on his first day of kindergarten, and they’d bonded almost immediately. They did absolutely everything imaginable together, whether it was playing at recess or doing their grammar homework. Then high school rolled around, and with it, Akande Ogundimu. New to the states, Jack didn’t mind him at first. Was very nice and comely like the white boy he was. Then Akande started showing interest in Gabe. Still, Jack was able to give him the benefit of the doubt. But after a while, Jack got jealous of the young man. He was suave, flirty, confident, all without coming off as bull-headed or stupid. Basically everything that everyone else expected Jack to be that he tried to pull off and just never came close to whatever Akande did. Gabe still loved both of them, but the way they fought for his attention was uncomforting, at best.

Mako cleared his throat. “I’m goin’ to bed. Anyone else?” He didn’t wait for anyone to reply, just got up and strolled right on over to the flight of stairs leading to the next floor of the house. The young man glanced behind him halfway up to see Gabriel and Jamison following like dutiful puppies.

The first floor of the house was wide and open, but the second floor was taken up mostly by a single hallway, three bedrooms and two bathrooms branching off on either side. Which Mako found strange. The only time he could think when more than one bedroom was used at a time was when he invited friends to stay the night. Even on holidays, his mother and father were off doing work. It was convenient, though. Mako basically had free reign over the house so long as he kept it clean. And he did make his friends clean it if they made their own mess.

Since his parents were hardly ever home, Mako had taken over the master bedroom, gradually moving his things into it until it was his, whether his parents liked it or not. It still had the bed frame from when they’d moved in about sixteen years ago, but the mattress had been replaced several times. At the moment, it was a king size mattress, covered with fairly new sheets in a monochromatic geometric pattern, along with as many pachimaris and other such plushies that could fit until they spilled off the bed into their own pile facing the window. A comfort place.

The three boys pile onto the bed all at once, not unlike the way they had on the couch. Gabe and Jamie each laid against Mako on either side, all three bundling themselves in a collection of blankets and plushies until they’d settled. Between Mako’s warm body, Jamie’s energy-fueled twitching, the hoodie Gabe has on, and the blankets on top of the three of them, it more than makes up for the aggressive A/C that everyone else insists on. Gabe burrows into the blanket den, almost purring in the little mound he was part of. Through some miracle of faith, Gabriel doesn’t notice as he’s moved between Mako and Jamie.

With another near-miracle, Jamie is able to wiggle himself beneath Gabriel without waking him. Now that both of them were in a more compact spot, Mako could comfortably put an arm around both boys.

Everyone downstairs were perfectly oblivious to the cuddling upstairs.

[megsblackfirewrites]

The Devout and The Heretic: Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The walls of the House of God were shaking with the power of their voices. The hymns had never been sung so powerfully or so full of devotion, of that Jack was certain. His wife’s beautiful voice quivered in the air beside his, harmonizing perfectly as they led the hymn. It wasn’t even intentional; everyone simply knew that Jack and Blaire Morrison were the ones that led the rest of them in song.

The final note hung in the air before the congregation sat down as one. Jack’s heart never felt lighter than after he had finished singing. His big chest rose and fell as he held his wife’s hand in his lap, smiling up at the Father as he took his regular place at the stand.

“Ah, there is nothing more beautiful than a congregation singing in perfect harmony,” Father Matthew sighed happily. “Well done. Now, as is our tradition, I would like to turn the floor over to you, my lambs, and inform everyone of the wonderful moments in your life this week.”

“We’re expecting our third child,” a woman said as she got to her feet. “I’m four months along and the baby is healthy. The doctors expect that I will have the same complications-free pregnancy as the other two.”

The congregation cheered as the woman sat down. Another man rose to his feet and smiled.

“My construction business has gotten its first out of town contract and I expect to bring a good amount of income back to our wonderful city,” he said.

Everyone cheered as the man sat down. Jack lifted Blaire’s hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles before he got to his feet.

“The mother cat I have been looking after has had her litter and I woke up this morning to find her placing the last of her three kittens on my face,” he said.

Everyone laughed as he sat back down. Jack’s happiness always came from the animals he cared for; he was devoted to his wife and his job, but they did not cause the same elation that caring for a shy cat or a skinny dog brought him.

The sharing continued for another ten minutes before the Father took over. “To hear such good news warms the depths of my soul,” he said. “God shines his love heavily upon us. I will close out today’s congregation with a reading from Genesis.”

Jack tuned out the Father as he looked at the cross above his head. He knew his elation would leave as soon as he was given his weekly charity assignment. It wasn’t that he didn’t love giving back to the community, it was just that he felt it was less charity if it was not given freely from the heart without prompting. This just felt like they were being forced to give back because it was expected of them rather than because they wanted to.

The congregation rose to their feet and Jack followed, filing up to the front to speak with the Father. He was handed his folded up slip of paper and the Father rested his hand on Jack’s head, calling for God to look favourably on his devout son. Jack thanked him before stepping to the side to wait for Blaire.

“I’m working the soup kitchen again,” Blaire huffed as they made their way to the car. “That’s the third time this month.”

“They need a lot of hands there,” Jack smiled at her. “More than half of the papers are for the soup kitchen.”

“And what is your assignment?” she asked.

Jack unfolded the paper and slipped into the car. “Tourist Information Bureau,” he said. “Interesting.”

That wasn’t one he even knew was an option. The Tourist center was outside of their little community, closer to the edge of the city where the drifters came and went. It was much less devout there and he had heard rumors that devil worship was widely accepted. He tried not to shudder at the thought. How could anyone worship such a vile, corrupting individual that wanted nothing more than to control the souls of humans to fight God’s divine right to rule?

“Ugh,” Blaire wrinkled her nose as they left the church parking lot. “I’ll send you with holy water so you can douse anyone that wears the badge of a heretic.”

“Blaire,” he laughed. “Our goal is to help those that have strayed down the wrong path, not chastise them. That is for God to decide their fate.”

“Well, I hope they all burn in Hell; I don’t want to share heaven with them,” she shuddered.

“Blaire,” he scolded. “My darling that is not the way.”

“No,” she agreed sullenly. “But it would be nice not have to share Paradise with them.”

Jack hummed softly in agreement. He didn’t like the idea of those that did not earn a place in Paradise walking through those eternal fields of splendor. It was almost a slap to the face for a devout like him. He worked hard to earn his place and someone that did not care was allowed into the Heavens? No, it wasn’t fair.

He pulled into the driveway and turned the car off. The birds were singing in the tree and he smiled as he headed into the backyard. He pushed the door to the rabbit hutch open and smiled as Hana-bunny came hurrying over. The others hopped along behind her, their floppy ears dragging through the hay as they came to investigate.

“Hello, my babies,” he cooed as he started filling water and food dishes. “Come and eat. Did you have a good morning? Daddy did.”

Hana-bunny followed him around the hutch as he tidied up and spread new straw for his five little darlings. Zarya decided that the aglet on his shoes were better than her bunny pellets and he had to shoo her away before she made herself sick. Lucio stood up on his hind legs, sniffing at Jack’s pants before he bounced off excitedly. Mei flopped over happily beside Zarya, her little pink nose twitching as Zarya turned to groom her best friend’s face. Only Satya seemed interested in the food, turning her head to watch him as she munched the pellet.

“Everyone happy?” Jack asked as he checked the litter and cleaned it out. “If it’s nice after lunch, I’ll let you run around the backyard, okay?”

He knew his bunnies couldn’t understand him, but the excited hop that Hana-bunny gave made him smile. He left the hutch and locked the door tightly behind him. He went to the other shed and let the goats out, smiling as Junkrat immediately bounced off, not minding his two new legs at all. He was taking to the prosthetics better than he could have hoped and he was beyond happy to see the kid running around the backyard. Roadhog followed at a much slower pace, little black ears swivelling as Junkrat raced around.

“Well, good to see you’re in a good mood,” Jack teased.

Junkrat immediately hurried over and headbutted Jack’s knee gently, his little sandy brown tail wagging. Jack knelt down to scratch the kid’s ears, smiling as Junkrat bleated happily. He heard the backdoor to the house open and Soldier came trotting over, immediately trying to herd Roadhog away from the vegetable patch. Junkrat bleated his displeasure as the old white German Shepherd tried to get him away from Jack. Jack chuckled at their antics before he got to his feet.

“Keep them out of trouble, Soldier,” he said.

Soldier cocked his head to the side before going to move Roadhog away from the garden again. Jack headed inside to get changed into a much looser set of clothing than his Sunday clothes. Blaire was already making lunch, bustling around the kitchen and humming happily. He smiled at the sight as he came downstairs.

“And how’s the most beautiful woman in Hope’s Rest?” he teased as he walked over to kiss her.

“I’m doing fine, my equally beautiful husband,” she said as she turned to kiss him in return. “You going to call the tourist stand?”

“After lunch,” he said. “I want to enjoy my time with my wife. God has graced me with her presence and I intend to make my love known.”

Blaire laughed at him as she set their sandwiches out on the table. “Oh, you charmer,” she teased. “Get eating, Jack, before the bacon gets cold.”

Jack smiled as he started eating his sandwich, but he didn’t miss Blaire’s smile fade as she watched him. His stomach sank; what had he done to earn that face? Was she really that annoyed that Mondatta had brought her kittens to him? Or was it that he went out to tend the rabbits before going to get changed? His babies needed to be taken care of before he ate. It would be unthinkable of him to do otherwise.

They ate in silence and when Jack had polished off his plate, he got up to call the tourist station. After briefly explaining that he was with the Church Of Dawn’s Saints, the lady on the other end of the line let out a relieved laugh.

“Oh, good. Could you come down here right now? We’re swamped,” she said.

“Oh, right; there’s that festival down at the waterfront this week,” Jack said. “I’ll be there shortly, ma’am.”

“Thank you; what is it you boys like to say? Saints bless your kind heart?” she laughed.

“Something like that,” he laughed.

He said his goodbyes before returning to the kitchen. He kissed Blaire’s cheek before he went to get his jacket. He flipped the collar up as Blaire walked over, a large frown on her face.

“You’re heading out?” she asked.

“They need help right now on account of the festival,” he replied. “I’ll be back later. Love you.”

He gave her one more kiss before he headed out to the car. The drive over to the tourist information building was uneventful; there wasn’t even a crazy driver on the road to honk at. Jack appreciated it as he parked and headed for the front of the building. He really did not enjoy getting angry at others; it was such a waste of his energy.

“Jack!” Hana shouted as she came running over. “Yes! The cool teacher to help alleviate our boredom!”

Jack chuckled as he gave his favourite student a hug. “I highly doubt that, Hana,” he said. “I’m here to volunteer.”

“I know that,” she rolled her eyes. “That church of yours is actually good for something other than throwing nasty looks at everyone not in that cult.”

“It’s not a cult,” Jack sighed as he shooed her along ahead of him. “It’s just a different Protestant religion. We have our purpose in the world and we do what we can with it.”

Hana rolled her eyes as he signed the volunteer check-in book and took his place behind the counter. He had a few minutes to breathe and reassure Hana that no, there wasn’t homework due tomorrow in his class, before people started swarming the information center. He did his best to be as helpful as he could, handing out pamphlets to people and pointing them in the right directions for particular landmarks around the city.

He’d barely been there an hour before someone walked in that made Hana’s jaw drop open. Jack finished helping a nice elderly couple that were hoping to do some bird-watching at the national park a few miles out of town and turned to see what the gawking was over. His jaw almost fell open in shock to at the sight of the biker shaking his hair out. Jack momentarily appreciated that the man’s leather jacket wasn’t covered in spikes, before he noticed that the man had both ears pierced with a giant chunk of black rock sitting in the lobe, a bar through his eyebrow, a lip ring, his nails painted black, and his long hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.

“Is there a problem, sir?” Jack called as he waved the man forward.

The man’s grin would have made any teenage girl’s heart melt. Jack could only label the man as “trouble” with all the tooth the man was showing. The man removed his sunglasses and fit them onto the collar of his shirt. Crow’s feet crinkled at the corners of the man’s eyes, pegging him as far older than his powerful body would claim. The warm, brown pools drew Jack in before he was ready to resist, making him drown in their depths as butterflies decided that his stomach was the best place to start flying around.

“Well, that depends, cutie,” the man said in a voice that was both confident and soft; again, teenage girls would be falling at his feet by now. “You got a name?”

Jack let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sir, that is not what I meant,” he said. “Do you often walk into establishments with the express purpose of annoying the staff and wasting their time?”

“Ow,” the man pressed his hand against his chest. Big hands and rather calloused by the looks of it. Man did a lot of physical work; interesting. “Now you’ve cut me real deep, sir. I was just asking for the name of the man that was helping me.”

“Jack,” Jack sighed. “Now, how can I be of service?”

“Heard there was a dragon boat festival in town,” the man said. “Thought I’d check it out.”

“That particular event isn’t until Tuesday,” Jack said as he handed the man a pamphlet. “But it is a sight to behold. Most of the boats are manned by international competitors.”

“Nice,” the man said as he looked the pamphlet over. “Uh, what’s going on tomorrow?”

“Well, the morning would be sailing lessons,” Jack said, “and then there’s supposed to be a beer garden in the evening after a large barbeque to kick the week long celebrations off. It is always a treat.”

“What would you suggest?” the man asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I’m particular for the history walks and tours,” Jack smiled. “But that’s a personal bias since I’m a history teacher. Most visitors rave about the amusement park set up on the south end of the pier, but it’s geared towards a much younger age group so I wouldn’t recommend it for a man your age.”

“My age?” the man grinned.

“Early forties,” Jack shrugged. “Don’t think you’d get a thrill out of the teacups. You’d probably get stuck in them; I would.”

The man pursed his lips before dropping himself forward onto the countertop and propping his chin in his palm. “You didn’t answer me; what would you suggest?”

Jack looked at the man for a moment before he snorted. “There’s a custom cars and motorcycle show on Wednesday. Lot of mechanics love it.”

“You going?” the man grinned.

“No,” Jack replied.

“So you wouldn’t recommend it,” the man chuckled. “I really want to know what you would go for. I think I’d enjoy it more if you were into it.”

“I don’t see how,” Jack frowned at the man. “We do not move in the same spheres.”

“You sure?” the man grinned.

Jack lifted an eyebrow. “Unless you intend to tell me that you attend church dutifully on Sunday, complete mandatory weekly volunteer hours, and keep a hutch full of rabbits, yes, I’m certain,” he said.

The man stared at him. “You have rabbits?” he whispered.

“They’re adorable,” Hana cackled as she handed a pamphlet off to a young woman that was almost drooling on herself at the sight of the man in front of Jack. “Satya’s still really shy, but Hana-bunny loves everyone.”

The man let out a long sigh before he looked at Jack. “Don’t suppose I could pay to see those bunnies?” he asked. “I love animals.”

“He’s free on Tuesdays!” Hana grinned. “No history classes at summer school.”

Jack gave her a cold look before he let out a long sigh. “I do not require to be paid, but if you want to bring some rabbit food, I would appreciate it,” he said.

“So, Tuesday,” the man mused. “Say, around noon?”

“Very well,” Jack sighed and gave the man his address. “Please don’t wear anything that dangles; the goats like to nibble.”

The man’s mouth opened in shock. “You have goats?!”

“Two,” Jack replied, trying not to grin. “Like I said, no dangling pieces on your clothing unless they’re secure. I do not need my kid eating something dangerous to his health.”

“It’s a date,” the man grinned as he pulled his sunglasses off of his shirt. “Name’s Gabriel, by the way. But you can call me ‘Gabe’.”

“Very well, Gabriel,” Jack shook his head. “See you Tuesday.”

Gabriel winked at him before he put his sunglasses on and left the building. Hana playfully waved her hand at her face and let out a long sigh. Yup, Gabriel was definitely a teenage girl magnet. Jack opted to ignore Hana’s attempts to tease him and returned to his job. He still had a few hours left to work before the building closed up for the day.

[evion]

It is important to know the political and physical geography of today’s events. First, there were five distinct groups. The Trump supporters were based in Terry Schrunk Plaza. They tended to wear flags, fatigues and red Trump hats. A handful of minorities were present. Surrounding them were four different groups. A peace group began their protests outside Portland City Hall. The diversity in this crowd ranged from different ethnicities, to clothing, to age (young children and their parents, teenagers, millennial, boomers, and a group of 80+ year olds who have been part of Portland protests for decades.) By 11:30, when I arrived, City Hall walkway and the sidewalk in front were packed, making it difficult to walk along the sidewalk. The crowd shortly was filling one of the lanes of traffic along 4th avenue. A number of religious and ethnic community leaders gave speeches. Chanting and loudspeakers were directed towards the small group of Trump supporters who came to the west end of the park with signs and flags. This was, by far, the largest of the anti-Trump groups. On the east side of Schrunk Plaza a group made up of Union members and an older crowd with a megaphone taunted the Trump supporters closer to the stage in the plaza. The chanting was robust from both sides. And in Chapman Park there were two groups, though at times difficult to distinguish between them. The color of the day was black. Some were covered head to toe. Others wore t-shirts with slogans attacking both the Trump administration and the Portland police. There were a number in the park who were there to protest the Trump rally and call for peace. And then there were those itching for a fight: Angry at Trump, his supporters, the media, and the Portland Police. Perhaps especially the Portland Police. The largest area with direct contact between the opposing protestors was between SW 4th and SW. 3rd on Madison. That is where the largest conflict occurred. It made sense this was the area that police heavily patrolled. A concentrated line of police in riot gear spaced just a few feet apart, three to five feet off the sidewalk. At times one lane of the street included patrol cars or vans with running boards and handles on the outside that acted as transport for twelve or more police. One lane was always open to cars on SW 4th, 3rd, and Madison. That made it easy for police and security teams from at least three of the groups to ask, (Yes, “Ask”, This is Portland) people to stay out of the street. Those in Chapman Square, Schrunk Plaza, and along Madison Street had either a barrier of police in riot gear or yellow police incident tape to show them where the demarcation lines were. Perhaps the most obvious part about the Portland police presence was whom they were watching. The anti-Trump demonstrators outnumbered the Trump rally by estimates of 20:1. And the police approach was clearly that Trump supporters were considered in danger. Police stood facing Chapman sometimes shoulder to shoulder. To the east and west of Shrunk Plaza they were not as concentrated, 8-10 officers with one or two facing the Trump supporters. The rest focused on the peace group at City Hall or the union chanters at the Federal building. That focus was commented on constantly. Along with those comments was a memory of the action several weeks ago when buses were ready to transport Trump marchers back to the starting point when they marched through a multi-ethnic neighborhood chanting anti-immigrant slogans. No riot police presence was evident then, so police are seen as protecting Trump supporters while aggressively agitating those against the Trump administration. About 30 minutes before the scheduled end of the Trump rally things began to change significantly. I stood at the Northwest corner of SW 4th and Madison starting around noon. I could see straight down the line of the police facing Chapman Square. I could also see the peace groups gathered at City Hall and the small contingent of Trump supporters in constant shouting. I could see into Chapman Square itself only a few feet. Lots of black clad people concentrated in the SW corner of the square, making it hard to see much in the center. It was a busy corner. For a time, there was almost a joyous atmosphere to the crowd. But it was not without its tension. At one point, as I was talking to a friend, a group of Trump supporters carrying various flags and paraphernalia came through the crowd outside City Hall. They made it a point to shoulder their way pushing people. When they got across the street, one of them had his red hat knocked off of his head. It fell to the ground and a heavyset black clad fellow in his 20’s grabbed the hat and started to walk away with it. My friend intervened and told him, “We don’t do that,” effectively de-escalating the incident and sending the anti-Trump guy across the street to Chapman Square and the Trump supporter on his way north on 4th. A white truck circled the blocks several times. It seemed to want someone to get agitated as it constantly sped up to trap people in crosswalks. A number of individual incidents took place with police isolating people for a time and searching bags, taking away poles, and then releasing them. Then the scene got intense around 3:20. Scores more police arrived with insignia from several agencies. A loudspeaker announced the “Because of Criminal activity, people need to move to the center of Chapman Square.” Something had happened. We could not see what that was from the corner next to the Portland Building. Standing where I was, NOT in Chapman Square, across the street, I figured I’d be able to watch the situation. But that was not to be. As I stood there, I was suddenly pushed by a Police officer with a baton telling me that I had to move. I said, “the announcement said people in the Square. I am not in the Square. And I am observing as an elected official.” (I had my little magnetic nametag on my right side of my shirt.) His response was to say, “Hello Lew. We’ve met. But you still need to leave this area.” So I started walking north along 4th watching the Square. It became clear that more was going on there. Within a few minutes several large reports rang out. Smoke of some form was evident. Angry voices rang out across the park. I could see batons being swung. I could not see whether people or objects were being hit. I called to one of the activists I saw in the center of the square to come my direction. He was helping a woman who was clearly disoriented and upset. They came under the chain that surrounds the park and into the sidewalk and street, yelling at the police for what was likely tear gas or pepper spray of come kind. What sounded like a series of pellets being fired could be heard. The next announcement said that police had been assaulted and that the gathering had been declared illegal. Eventually the line of police stopped a few feet in from Main Street while still in Chapman Square. By that time I’d seen a number of water bottles and rocks thrown at the police. I did not see who threw them. But they landed near the front of the police line. A new announcement said Lonsdale Square had also seen criminal activity and that it too must be cleared. I started walking that way. At one point a group of folks threw several newspaper vending machines into the center of the street. Then came several orange cones. Remembering the fire that was started at the May Day march, I walked directly over to the growing pile and stood there for a while. A masked friend from the crowd yelled at me to watch out because tear gas weapons were pointed at me in the center of the street. I decided to stand there a while to see if anything more would take place. Nothing did. I left to go closer to the stand off line. There a few individuals were yelling at police. One attempted to get others to join him at the front of the line. It was only marginally successful. But something had changed. The large group of black clad people gathered to march north along 4th. The police line dispersed and moved back to the Madison Street location. I looked down 4th to see the group chanting and heading towards Morrison, possibly Burnside, with Police in pursuit. (Note that because 4th and 3rd avenues had been blocked, the peace groups at City Hall and the Federal building were separated from the smaller groups in Chapman Square. I wonder how they would have handled the pushing and shoving. Some folks had simply sat down in Chapman Square, only to be moved forcibly with batons.) By this time the Trump rally was officially over. It was clear from looking across the street that those in Schrunk Plaza were agitated and looking to the police for directions out of there. Those directions had a small number walking out the SE exit and up Jefferson Street. I walked up to City Hall. (Hearing along the way from ACLU legal observers that flash and tear gas canisters had been used around 4th and Morrison and that the group had been surrounded and everyone arrested.) At City Hall the numbers had diminished somewhat, but the enthusiasm had not. Chants were still going. I do not believe the group at City Hall knew that the Trump rally had ended until police started letting a larger number of folks out of the Plaza on the west side. Anti-Trump demonstrators formed a gauntlet for them to go through for a time on the corner of Jefferson and 4th. There were a few punches thrown before police broke up that gauntlet. Only to see another one form half a block down. And then still another skirmish in the next block. That seemed to be the case along a path that went several blocks south and then doubled back on 5th avenue to the Portland building. By the time I got to Madison again, a pepper spray incident had taken place involving the police. Demonstrators were treating several people, including a photographer. As I left down town I unsuccessfully tried to find the larger group that had moved north. Helicopters were circling. I did not find them. But I saw both brief skirmishes and measured conversations taking place throughout the downtown. Take a ways: If the message was that Portlanders reject the Trump agenda, that came through loud and clear. Were the Black clad folks heading into the streets to create more problems? Possibly. Did Portland police give clear directions? No. Was the strategy simply to move the more volatile elements away from each other before the end of the Trump rally? Well, that worked. I’ve been told that at least one brick was thrown at police prior to the closing of Chapman Square. That would likely be grounds for some action. Was it over reaction? Did the isolation approach work for the five rally groups? The peaceful groups continued to make their views clear. At what cost to future demonstrations? I know one former state senator who lost a great deal of respect for the Portland police after being manhandled and tear gassed while standing in what she had been told was a safe place to be. I have not seen the media coverage beyond one article that spent ¾ of the time talking with and about the Trump supporters. I get it. The huge numbers of people protesting them were there because of them. And I think it was also likely that the reporter had not met or talked with that group before. I’d also say that the reporter decided to lump all of the protestors in one easy meme rather than understand the differences and how that played out on the streets and parks downtown. And of course the adrenaline spikes when there is action. Understanding the deeper issues or differences takes time for broadcast news and greater history and awareness for print. These days’ reporters are given neither time nor support for providing context. Finally. It, frankly, could have been a lot worse.

Lew Frederick, Oregon State Senator (via Facebook)

[readerwatch]

Could we maybe get some cute head cannon with Lucio and 76 having a crush on a male reader and maybe how'd they'd confess to him?? If it's not to much trouble!!

This sounds adorable!!! Here you go anon, I hope you enjoy!

Lucio:

- He’s had a crush on you for a very long time

- Probably since he met you. He fell in love with the way your hair framed your face, the way you laughed when he told a cheesy joke. The way you looked at him when he was doing a concert, your eyes full of life as his music rang throughout the arena.

- You’ve supported him with his music career, coming to all of his concerts and sitting in the front row, cheering as he performed. You always wore a green t-shirt with his symbol on it as another sign of support.

- You two were hanging out backstage in his dress room after a show, he’d just finished a concert in Numbani (this was your first time being in Numbani, it was quite a beautiful city and you were excited to be here)

- He was asking you how he did on stage, even though he knows you will always tell him he did a wonderful job.

- “You did great, Lucio! It’s always so amazing seeing you on stage, you get so absorbed in your music and it’s always a sight to see.” Your face lit up as you talked, that look he loved so much beaming from your face.

- Lucio laughed, looking over at you. You were sitting in a large, red chair that was three times your size. It made you look so tiny, even though you were the same height as him.

- You looked at him, confused. Why was he laughing at you?

- “It’s things like this that make me glad I fell in love with you.”

- OH.

- Your jaw dropped a little. “What did you say?”

- “I-I uh, uhm..” Lucio stammered.

- “Did you just say you love me?!” you shouted, your voice squeaking. You placed your hand over your mouth when you heard yourself make a high pitched noise, trying to contain yourself.

- “M-maybe!” He shouted, audibly embarrassed by what he had just said. He turned around quickly, staring at the mirror that was attached to his dresser. “Did I just say that? I just said that.” Lucio thought to himself.

- “It’s okay, don’t be so shy about it. I love you too.”

- You’ve never seen him blush so much before. It was adorable.

Soldier 76:

(I wrote this in the setting of prefall!Overwatch, so he’s “Commander Morrison”.)

- You were one of his agents, part of an elite team directly under Commander Morrison.

- Everyday you went through rigorous training to hone your skills, and keep you sharp. When you weren’t training, you were on a mission.

- Today was an exception, he had called training off for the day in order to catch up with paperwork. Being the commander of Overwatch, there was always lots of paperwork. Mainly paperwork that had to do with repair costs, after some of the Overwatch recruits had recklessly destroyed parts of a city in the most recent mission.

- One of those recruits happened to be you. And man did you feel bad for it.

- You felt the need to go apologize to him. After all, it was partially your fault that he was cooped up in his office, answering the plethora of invoices he had been sent by the ministries of Oasis.

- You walked up to the glass door that was his office, peering inside, watching him type away on his holo-pad.

- You watched his face; he looked tense. His jaw was clenched slightly, making his jaw line more prominent.

- As you were looking in, he looked up from his holo-pad, noticing you looking inside.

- You blushed, embarrassed by the fact that you were caught staring at him.

- He chuckled, and press a button on his desk. A loud whoosh ensued, and the door to his office slid open.

- “What brings you to my office on your day off, agent?” He asked.

- You walked in the room, still embarrassed from moments earlier. “I thought, uh..”

- Commander Morrison cocked an eyebrow. “Out with it, agent. I don’t have all day.”

- “I thought I would come here and apologize for what happened the other day, in Oasis.” You bit the inside of your cheek nervously, expecting some sort of backlash.

- Your Commander sighed, looking at you in an almost amused manner.

- “Agent, in all of my years of being Commander of Overwatch, not once have I ever had someone come to me and apologize for damaging parts of a city.” As he finished his statement, he held his hand up and ushered you over to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit.”

- You were visibly confused, but complied, walking across his office to sit in the floating black chair.

- “This is why out of all of the agents here, you’re my favorite.” He proclaimed as you sat, stiffening for a moment as he realized what he had said.

- Was that a confession? That was definitely a confession.

- You laughed. “And you’re my favorite too, Commander Morrison.”

[overweirdos]

Soulmate!AU: Jack Morrison x Reader - Ineffable (Part 3/3)

Ineffable - (adj) too great to be expressed in words

Summary: Six years have passed since the fall of Overwatch. Now everyone has returned to a boring, uneventful life, witnessing the second Omnic crisis arise with their hands tied. All you can do is watch until a certain scientist decides that he’s had enough.  Pairing: Jack Morrison/Soldier: 76 x Reader Warning: No pitiful flirting this time (though Admin Macaree keeps trying to convince me it was far from pitiful. It would have worked on her, after all). Genji doesn’t need healing either. We’re all safe.  Some swearing at the end.  Use of alcohol, well, more like a mention of alcohol.  A passage towards the end could be considered a mention of rape.  (We just want to list everything that might be problematic in advance, trying to save us some trouble. Some people might interpret it as alcohol abuse or something like that, so we like to be safe.)  word count: 6,874 Author’s note: Yes, we know it has taken us months to publish this third chapter and we deeply apologize! We hope you still enjoy this part as we’ve put a lot of work and dedication into it! 

It was dark. You could barely make out any contours outside of the window; the moon had decided to hide away behind the clouds tonight and left you all alone with your thoughts. Well, not exactly alone of course. Winston was busy downstairs, working on his shield generator that kept refusing to produce a long-lasting barrier, making him more and more agitated. You could faintly hear him argue with Athena in the distance, apparently, she had decided to remind him of his lack of cardio training, something he absolutely hated. At least their discussions kept your stay here entertaining. 

Around a week ago, you had decided to pay a visit to Watchpoint: Gibraltar. This smaller base of Overwatch was left abandoned after the Petras Act was signed. All activities of the organization were instantly deemed illegal – just as you had predicted – forcing the members to leave everything and everyone behind. It’s almost been six years now. Have you ever heard of your old friends again? Have you ever made an effort to contact them? Not really. Why not? Would it have made it a difference? Every single one of them went their own way, followed their own special dream; they were now scattered all over the planet. Every single one of them was busy enough trying to forget the painful disbandment and finding a new path. There was no use in opening up old wounds.

Therefore, finding Watchpoint: Gibraltar locked up, run-down and eerily quiet came to no surprise to you. CLOSED BY EXECUTIVE MANDATE KEEP OUT PETRAS ACT These signs were everywhere. You barely recognized the place; it used to be so full of life, laughter, and excitement. Now it was only an empty shell of what Overwatch used to be.

You did come across a surprise, however. When you entered the compound and the main building you found it to actually be far from empty. No spider webs, no thick layer of dust, no graffiti on the walls. Reuniting with Winston was just crazy. You almost mistook him for an enemy when you entered an old laboratory and found him working while humming an unknown song to himself. Thankfully, you managed to recognize who has made these empty halls their new home before engaging in a fight. You two spent hours talking about what’s been going on and you had to admit that you must have missed the scientist more than you originally thought.  He informed you about his want to initiate the recall of Overwatch, considering how the second Omnic crisis kept on claiming more and more of lives of innocent people and that the UN didn’t seem to be handling the situation well enough. They needed the heroes, you definitely agreed with Winston on that point. But you also had to keep reminding yourself that bringing Overwatch back to life held a great risk. It would probably make the situation worse for all of you, in case the United Nations discovered the reunion, possibly resulting in arrests. Or worse.

Though you were unbelievably glad to see your old friend again, it wasn’t as tear-jerking as you had expected it to be, it mostly consisted of laughs about a few old stories that you shared. You felt content, comfortable, at home. You even decided to ask about how the others were doing, if Winston knew anything about them. Mercy was still working as a medic for the military, though Winston wasn’t sure where exactly she was now. Tracer had moved in with her long-term girlfriend Emily and was now living peacefully near King’s Row. Maybe too peacefully, you assumed. The Brit wouldn’t last long without some kind of adventure. Reinhardt and Torbjörn had moved back to their home countries in order to be closer to their families again. Apparently, Genji was spending time in Nepal, finding his true self, frequently writing letters to his soulmate. The others weren’t heard of. You prayed they were doing fine. They had to be, they were heroes after all.

And you, you were still sitting in an upstairs room in Watchpoint: Gibraltar, silently staring outside with a blank mind. You had decided to stay with Winston a little longer since you had recently taken a short vacation from your new job in a small hospital. There was plenty of time to catch up.

Speaking of catching up, you decided to head downstairs; there was a question you really wanted to ask Winston. After all, you never inquired about his opinion about you still seeing colors. You tried telling your other comrades multiple times before Overwatch completely broke down but the responses usually just left you disappointed. “You must be going crazy! The commander’s death must have taken quite a toll on you, hm?” “It might take some time to set in. There’s no way he would have survived this, you should try and let him go.” “You can still see colors? Maybe he wasn’t your soulmate after all.” The last one usually hurt the most. No, he definitely was your soulmate. There was no other way to explain the unfaltering love between the two of you. And he still had to be alive. What puzzled you, however, was that he hadn’t bothered showing up yet. It’s been six years; he was obviously still alive somewhere but hasn’t even tried contacting you. Wouldn’t that have been the first thing for him to do? To make sure his soulmate was healthy, both physically and mentally? But no, there were absolutely no signs. You weren’t sure what to believe anymore. Maybe you were actually going crazy. You hoped that Winston would be able to help and not ridicule you because of it. He might be looking at the situation from a different point of view as a scientist, so you prayed he would come up with a solution. 

You found Winston sitting in front of his computer, munching on a banana and watching the news with a concerned expression. 

“The Second Omnic crisis continues to devastate Russia. The conflict between omnics and humans has now claimed over 15,000 lives. So far the international community has been reluctant to intervene…”

He gulped, his concern fading and being replaced by a look of anger as he quickly typed on his keyboard. INITIATE OVERWATCH RECALL? Y/N

“Winston, we’ve talked about this”, you interrupted the scientist and he jumped in surprise, looking like a child that had just been caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. “I know how much you want this and I do too, honestly. But whatever we decide to do after the Recall would be illegal. We can’t allow ourselves to cause even more trouble.” “You’re right. That’s just how the world is, huh?” You watched him turn away from the monitor with a saddened expression, turning to gaze at the group photo you took back when Winston and Tracer became a part of Overwatch. The good, old times. Opening up these old wounds was never part of the plan, yet it all came crashing back down as you stared at these pictures. These were merely memories now, slowly but steadily fading away. If someone asked you today to describe your former friends and teammates, could you still do that? Sure, there were photos and videos left but those would never do justice to the real heroes you’ve met. You longed to see them in person again, just once. You would give everything to undo what happened back then if you could only be with them again. Buy yes, like Winston said, that’s how the world was now. There was no way to go back in time.

A weird noise from outside made you and Winston snap out of your thoughts. A bang? Here, at this time of the day, or rather night? You took a look out of the window and you could swear you saw something move down there. “I’ll take a look at what’s going on outside”, you muttered towards Winston, swiftly grabbing your gun off the table, just in case. He gave a quick nod in return and warned you to take care. 

When you got outside everything seemed normal, nothing was out of place. There wasn’t a single trace of any animals or even intruders so you scratched your head in confusion as you questioned your own sanity. Were you starting to hallucinate? 

INTRUDER ALERT

Athena’s voice boomed from inside. Well, it seemed like you weren’t wrong after all, someone must have gotten inside unnoticed after all. You made a move towards the door; you had to get back and help Winston! He may be big and strong and terrifying if angry but depending on the number of enemies even he could be in serious trouble. But apparently whoever just intruded Watchpoint: Gibraltar didn’t want you to join the party. The door wouldn’t budge, not at all. You could faintly hear the commotion going on inside, including Winston’s enraged roars. Frantically searching for another entrance that wasn’t locked, you remembered the vents at the side of the building. If you managed to get up there you could easily get back inside without getting noticed by the enemies.

If only the act of actually getting to the vents had been as easy as you thought. It took you a good five minutes to get up thanks to your height and lack in jumping power. But hey, at least you made it. Slowly crawling through the narrow shaft you tried your best to scream at the spiders that kept trying to invade your personal space. God, they were everywhere! You picked up the speed in order to reach an exit as soon as possible and to escape this dusty hell. Ah, there it was! You gave the bars leading to freedom a strong push and jumped out, gracefully landing in one of the empty halls. The ruckus inside had stopped. Did Winston manage to scare them away? Or had he possibly lost? Only one way to find out. 

You darted off towards the direction you assumed the meeting hall to be in – you barely remembered any locations inside this huge building – and kept running at full speed until you rounded a corner and crashed into someone. Or rather, something? You fell on your back, dropping the gun in the process but immediately stood back up to face whatever just intervened with your plan to return to Winston. 

You came face to face with black smoke that slowly took on the silhouette of a human. You couldn’t help but watch in amazement as the smoke swirled into its form and revealed a person with a mask and a black coat. And two shotguns aimed right at your face. Perfect.

There was no way out of this. Your gun was laying a few feet away from you, by the time you would have gone to grab it, you’d be shot in the head. At least thrice. Fighting back without a weapon was not an option either; this figure clearly had way more muscles than you could ever develop.

“What are you waiting for? Just shoot me already!” you growled, accepting your death and hoping that this person would at least get it over with quickly. Only a miracle could save you now, like Winston getting his ass up and actually finding you here. But that seemed quite unlikely. The figure snorted aggressively while looking down at you in an intimidating way. “Didn’t know Overwatch was having a reunion. Why isn’t the handsome strike commander tagging along?” the voice snarled with a derogatory tone. His question made you huff in annoyance. “He’s dead. In case you haven’t noticed.” “Oh, really? I believe you have a different opinion on that matter.” Your eyes widened slightly. Did he know more about Jack? 

“Even if he was alive, how the hell would I know where he is? He hasn’t bothered showing up for the past six years, why would he now?” “So that damn scout by hasn’t returned to you?” His masked face inched closer and closer to yours. But wait! What did that weirdo just say? Scout boy? As you slowly began realizing what that person had just revealed about himself the figure noticed his mistake. The black smoke started forming again and began making its way towards the vents you had just used to enter the building. Before it could make an escape you managed to grab a hand as it was about to dematerialize. “You’re not leaving me like that, Gabriel.” A growl escaped his lips as he turned around and lunged at you. His strong hands pinned yours above your head against the nearest wall. “Don’t you dare say that name again! These people have destroyed me, turned me into a monster! You will all pay for what you’ve done to me.” His voice became quieter the closer he leaned into your ear. “But not today.” he let go of you, making you fall to your knees. “Morrison’s alive. You’ll have to be the one to find him. Look for some old, grumpy vigilante.” 

Those were his last words before he disappeared. You kept sitting on the ground, looking at the spot Gabriel had still stood in a few seconds ago. He was alive. But he was telling the truth; he was not Gabriel Reyes anymore. You didn’t know exactly what he meant. What have they done to him that made him hate Overwatch this much? What truly happened that fateful day? And if he truly wasn’t your best friend Gabriel anymore, then why hadn’t he just killed you on the spot? What reason would he have for telling you about Jack if he wanted to see all of you dead? Speaking of Jack, the figure’s words would barely be able to help you. An old, grumpy vigilante? Good enough but he could be anywhere in the world, there were hundreds of people like that. How were you supposed to find him considering that your former Overwatch teammates would still not believe his survival? No, you’d have to keep it to yourself for now.

Recalling the old Overwatch agents didn’t take as long as you expected. Only two days after the incident at Watchpoint: Gibraltar and Winston’s decision to initiate the Recall after all, Tracer had arrived. Mercy, Reinhardt, and Torbjörn followed shortly after. Genji also sent a letter stating that he would be joining the group in about a week, McCree agreed as well, announcing his arrival to be in a month. The reunion consisted of dozens of hugs, pats on the back, and shared stories of both the past and present. The atmosphere was playful and relaxed until Winston reminded everyone of why exactly they were called in. The Second Omnic crisis seemed to be at its peak, claiming more and more lives while the UN watched helplessly. Overwatch was needed, there was no way to deny that. 

“We all know the dangers. Even us meeting here like that is most likely highly illegal. There is no way the United Nations are going to allow this” Angela reasoned, apparently still struggling to make a decision for herself. Was this right? “Of course it’s illegal. But we can’t allow this war to continue, we need to intervene! As long as we do that in the most secretive way possible, they can’t bust us!” Lena was determined to help all these innocent people who kept becoming victims for no reason. “I’m pretty sure they would find out at some point, our faces are still very well-known after all…” The Medic had trouble accepting all the risks that came with the recall. You didn’t. “Then we need to show them our good intent. We have to prove that we are capable of stopping this war. They won’t be able to ignore our attempts at rescuing this planet. They have no other option but to put their trust in us.” Angela went quiet. She was lost in her thoughts for a few seconds before nodding with a faint smile. Everyone agreed. The least you could do was try it.

Now that you had decided on rebuilding Overwatch, another problem surfaced. “We need a leader.” A breath hitched in your throat at Reinhardt’s words. He was right; the organization wouldn’t be able to work without anyone to guide them. 

You remembered how Overwatch almost completely broke down when Jack got sick for a few days. He managed to catch a cold, which wasn’t too much of a problem but of course, he refused to stop working. At least until he passed out one evening and you didn’t allow him to even look at any paperwork for a while. Ana and you took shifts watching Jack and taking care of his work. It gave you an interesting insight on all the trouble your soulmate had to deal with. You couldn’t remember another time where you had slept as little as back then. You were amazed at how he had managed not to go insane yet. Obviously, Ana and you weren’t able to handle this job as well as Jack would have. Ana had some experience but it wasn’t enough for an important and busy position like this. While Jack was resting, you and Ana accidentally assigned three healers and two defense heroes to an attack mission. It went well in the end but a mistake like this should have never happened in the first place. Ana also messed up while responding to some e-mails, resulting in multiple newspapers reporting about a secret fight club for children within Overwatch. Oh, there was also that one time where you ordered way too many new weapons. The faces of your teammates were priceless when they suddenly received a hundred shotguns instead of the ten actually needed. Both the new recruits and veterans were extremely stressed out because nothing would go according to plan. Luckily, Jack recovered quickly and somehow even cleaned up the giant mess you’ve made. 

“Any recommendations?” Torbjörn asked. “Winston!” was your quick reply. He was the one who initiated the recall; he was the mastermind behind all the future plans and technology. He was young but definitely the most fitting person for this role. “I feel honored but I’d rather recommend you” Winston objected. You looked at him with a confused expression. Was he serious? Had he forgotten about the last time you were in charge? The others seemed just as puzzled as you were. “I`m not kidding. I believe you would be the best choice for now. Your soulmate led Overwatch for years, you know how his mind worked, what he would have done. And even thought your first attempt at leading Overwatch back then didn’t go too well…you know what’s best for us.” You didn’t want to admit it but Winston was right on a few points. You had spent so many nights talking with Jack about his newest plans and ideas, how he wanted to further improve even the smallest things. You might have been able to do it, however, you didn’t want to. Jack was still out there somewhere. If you ever found him, he could return to his former position, he’d be the better choice. It just felt so wrong to take his position so you shook your head. “I don’t think anyone could replace Jack. I appreciate it, Winston, but maybe we should just wait a little while. We’ll see how far we can get with rebuilding Overwatch and everyone can prove their abilities. We may decide on a leader later, how does that sound?” The others nodded in unison. Thank god you got out of that.

The group made the decision not to move back into Watchpoint: Gibraltar yet. It would only raise suspicion. You would all be returning to your homes and wait to receive missions from Winston. He’d be staying back and scout the news for any opportunities to help and then inform the agents who would fit best. 

Things had gone back to normal after that, sadly. You returned to your job at the hospital, always ready to leave on a mission. But for some reason, those never came. Winston barely managed to find any missions that wouldn’t raise too much attention. You became restless. You finally wanted to help but the few opportunities that the scientist found were given to the other agents. You didn’t seem to fit the requirements of the missions so far. 

So you started engaging in your boring, repetitive daily routines again. You hadn’t heard from Winston in two weeks when your phone suddenly rang just as you were finishing up your shift. With a sigh you reached into your pocket, expecting it to be a colleague calling in sick and asking you to take over their shift as well. When you saw the scientist`s name show up on the display, you furrowed your brows. Was he calling to tell you that there wouldn’t be any missions again? Or had he finally found something suitable for you? 

“Hey there, Winston.” “Ahh, it’s great that you’re still up! I need you at Watchpoint: Gibraltar as soon as possible!” You shot a glance towards the clock in the dressing room. Right, you had completely forgotten it was already midnight. “I should be able to catch a flight in the morning, will that be fast enough?” “It’ll have to do, I suppose. Anyways, I’ve got a mission for you; we need every available member for this one. It shouldn’t take too long to complete so don’t pack too much.” “Got it!”

At least you’d finally get some kind of excitement. 

The mission would lead you to Dorado. Right after the fall of Overwatch, a gang named Los Muertos decided to raid the ruins of the headquarters, taking important blueprints that survived the explosion. These documents were extremely valuable, Winston would be able to improve the weapon systems and armor with these plans. Luckily, Los Muertos didn’t seem to have the capabilities to actually realize those blueprints, contrary to the new reformed Overwatch and their genius scientist.

Winston had everything planned out perfectly. You would leave for Dorado soon and stay in a hotel there for a few nights. Staying in a large aircraft for days would just cause trouble. The next thing to do was finding a proper way into Los Muertos’ hideout. If possible, you would infiltrate their base and take the blueprints back without getting noticed.

You were assigned to this mission along with McCree, Tracer, and Reinhardt. The latter would wait outside and only join the three of you in case you ran into enemies and needed help. Everything seemed quite simple, nothing you hadn’t done before. 

The mission went smoothly. Making out the location of their hideout and finding a proper way into it only took around two days, these guys didn’t exactly know how to be subtle and quiet. Another day later, you had worked out a plan on how to take back the blueprints they stole all those years ago and leave without any disturbances.

Right now you found yourself situated on the roof of an old warehouse with McCree. Tracer had already gone inside to scout the area and notify you of the amount of Los Muertos members present. Reinhardt was waiting at the back entrance, ready to charge in at any moment.

“So, how’s your soulmate doing?” If you had to wait for Tracer’s report, you might as well have a little small talk. You could see a soft smile make its way to the cowboy’s lips, his cheeks taking on a slight red tint. “Perfectly fine. Recently got a new job. Must have gotten tired of all these cowboy hats. Kinda miss her, though.” “Then we should get this over with as quickly as possible. I really don’t need you dying of homesickness I the middle of a mission. As long as we don’t cause too much trouble, you’ll be home in no time.” He nodded with determination and right in that moment, Tracer responded back to you. “There are around seven of them in the whole building, mostly asleep though. We should have absolutely no problems.” “Got it. We’re going in now.” You quietly opened a hatch on the flat roof, tying a rope to a nearby antenna, hoping that it would support yours and McCree’s weight.

As you reached the bottom you quickly noticed how quiet it was. Dangerously quiet. These were their headquarters, surely there must have been someone patrolling the building. Would Los Muertos really let their guard down like that? You knew something had to be wrong. There’s couldn’t just be seven members of this huge gang present, peacefully sleeping, there had to be more somewhere. Did they know about your arrival? Was this all just a trap? Or maybe these weren’t their headquarters, after all, just a small base. You noticed McCree stiffen next to you. His confused expression spoke volumes, he must have noticed as well. “What are we gonna do now?” he asked in a hushed voice. “Search the building, I suppose. We don’t know what’s going on yet, we can just hope that they are on some sort of vacation and that’s the reason why no one’s here.” So that’s what you did for the next hour. However, the only thing you found was the group of sleeping gang members, cuddled together like a bunch of kittens. You would have found it cute if these men weren’t brutal murderers. At least they were completely lost in whatever dreams they were having so they didn’t even notice you pass by. 

You explored the entire building but your efforts were fruitless. There was absolutely nothing. No secret doors, no important Los Muertos documents, and definitely no blueprints. You, Tracer, and McCree had decided to split up a while ago so Tracer’s voice kind of surprised you until you realized it came out of your earpiece. “I’ve found nothing…maybe we should just call it a day and continue searching for the real headquarters tomorrow.” “Haven’t found anything worth mentionin’ either. Love that plan, Tracer. I could really use some sleep now.” You had to agree with them. This wasn’t going anywhere. “Let’s meet outside the back entrance, where Reinhardt’s been waiting’. Poor guy must be bored outta his mind.” You couldn’t wait to get out of there; however, you remembered that Winston gave you a special task to take care of. “Hey, listen. Why don’t you guys go ahead and return to the hotel? I promised Winston to take some photos of whatever hideout we find, write down its layout in case we return here in the future. It might take a while and I don’t want to keep you guys from getting your well-deserved sleep.” “Are ya sure? What if these guys wake up?” “I’m sure they won’t as long as I keep quiet. Also, I do know how to handle myself, in case you forgot, McCree.” “I guess. Just know we’ll start searching for ya if ya don’t return to the hotel within an hour as well.” “Understood.”

You were glad that you could work on your task in peace. Not that you minded company, no, you just weren’t sure if the results would be the same if you couldn’t work in complete silence and concentrate properly. You couldn’t disappoint Winston on your first mission. Scribbling down the layout of the hideout didn’t take too long; it was structured in quite a simple way, only consisted of a few large rooms. As you finished taking notes in one of the rooms in the basement, something caught your attention. Behind a bookshelf, on the wall…was that a safe? You took a step closer. Only a small part was peeking out from behind the bookshelf but you were sure this had to be a tiny safe. With a swift motion, you managed to push the piece of furniture away from the wall and took a closer look. The safe was rust and old, the door seemed like it would fall apart at any second now. Well, it just screamed Open me!

You should have known better. After all the stories you’ve heard of Los Muertos, with all your experience from training and working with Overwatch, you should have expected this. As you started working on opening the door a quiet beeping noise made you halt your actions. You thanked God for giving you these quick reflexes as you barely managed to jump behind a desk before the safe exploded. The blast wasn’t too big but still managed to do a lot of damage. Especially to your earpiece. You could feel it crumble and took it out of your ear. It was completely broken. Then the realization hit you. You were completely alone in a hideout of Los Muertos. You could not reach your comrades in any way right now. The gang members sleeping upstairs must have surely been woken up by the noise. You were in a basement, without any windows enabling you to escape. You had to get upstairs somehow.

Without really thinking about it, you started to sprint, making your way to the staircase leading to the main floor. Not bothering to look back, you passed the room the gang members had been sleeping in. You could faintly hear them talk behind the door, they seemed too confused and sleepy to realize what had happened. This was your chance. maybe there was still a way for you to make it out of there. Alive, preferably. You managed to reach the back entrance without any problems, slamming the door open and breathing in the cold air of the night. You made sure to run a few streets away from the building before collapsing against a wall. This was definitely enough excitement for today. All you needed now was a hot shower and your warm, comfortable hotel bed. And maybe a glass of whiskey. 

“So, I guess you’re the little shit that just blew up our precious basement?” Five members of Los Muertos had suddenly appeared in front of you out of thin air. How did you not even notice them following you? Obviously outnumbered you slowly raised your hands, signaling defeat. You swallowed hard. There was no way you would win this fight but you still had to try. You couldn’t just go down without fighting back. “Oh, you’re giving up already? Well, if you’re being this submissive, we might not kill you. Why not have some fun? You’d be a nice asset to our gang, the way you look, sweetie.” Okay, you’re planning on playing and then killing them from behind but this was going too far. Before the man in front of you could react, you had grabbed the knife out of his hands and hit him in the temple with its handle, knocking him out cold. Of course, the other members were quick to grab and pin you against the wall, growling at you in anger. “No fun then, I suppose. Just a brutal, painful and slow death for you!” Great, just great. No shower, no whiskey, no warm bed. But instead, death. Just fantastic.

You saw one of the men’s fist fly towards your face and closed your eyes. Bracing yourself for the pain, you were surprised when it didn’t hit you. Instead, you heard someone cry out. Shouldn’t you be the one screaming in agony? Daring to open your eyes again, you saw the Los Muertos guys suddenly backing up in fear, staring at another man in front of you and their friend lying on the ground, obviously dead. “Not you again! Fuck off, old man; we’ve dealt with you too many times! Leave us alone!” You let yourself slide down the wall in exhausting as you stared up at the stranger before you. He had his back turned towards you, His hair was gray and short, he wore a dark uniform with the number 76 printed on the back of his jacket, a pulse rifle in his right hand. His form was intimidating. You tried getting away from him for a second before realizing that you had nowhere to go. The wall was behind your back, the stranger in front of you, Los Muertos on your sides. Well, the latter wouldn’t be much of a problem for long, you soon found out. They tried attacking the man all at once, hesitantly and with scared looks on their faces, but he was able to predict their movements and take them down one by one. There had to be a reason why even Los Muertos feared this man. You wanted to run, get away from this potential danger until you noticed something familiar. 

You brushed the dirt from your uniform and stood up to face the stranger who had just saved your life. The two of you simply stared at each other for a few seconds, his red visor lighting up the alleyway until he abruptly turned around to leave. Oh no, he wasn’t just going to disappear like that. “Wait, don’t just leave! Tell me…what’s your name?” you inquired as you quickly grabbed his wrist. The mysterious man glared daggers at you over his shoulder; at least that’s what you assumed he was doing since you could only see the movement of his eyebrows. “My name is not important.” His voice was low and gruff, not showing any emotion except for a small hint of annoyance. “Well, will you at least let me reward you somehow? You did save my life just now; I would have surely died if you hadn’t intervened!” You desperately tried to stop him from leaving but he didn’t care at all. He was trying hard to escape from you for some reason. “I don’t want a reward. I don’t deserve one either.” “Let me just give you something…ahh, I know!” Before he could stop you, you had placed a small kiss on his cheek, or rather, his visor. But hey, it did the job and his reaction was exactly what you had expected. The man turned away from you and his ears took on a rosy color. A chuckled escaped your lips. 

“Did you really believe you could fool me out of all people, Jack?” You’ve known it from the second you first laid your eyes on him. His posture, his fighting style, the way he perfectly analyzed the situation and predicted the movement of his enemies. Even if he hid his face, his hair had already gotten a little gray and his voice sounded quite different from what you were used to, you recognized him immediately. His body visibly stiffened. He didn’t react for a while, trying to look for the right words. “That’s not my name anymore.” He tried to leave again, an annoyed sigh leaving his lips. “Stop right there, mister! You think you can fake your death, disappear for six goddamn years, and then just leave me, your soulmate, in the dark? Hell no!, You’re coming with me now!” He had absolutely no time to react to your lecture before you grabbed his hand and pulled him through a few dark alleyways of Dorado towards the hotel you were residing in. 

As you were about to head towards your room, you noticed McCree sitting at the hotel bar and staring at you in confusion before wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. You rolled your eyes before quickly giving your soulmate the keycard to your room and signaling him to go ahead. After making sure he wouldn’t try to run away again, you strolled over towards your teammate. “I thought you wanted to go to bed, why are you down here?” “Didn’t know ya were into one night stands, sugar:” He completely ignored your question. “I’m not, McCree. This is far more difficult, I might explain tomorrow, okay?” “Ya don’t need to explain to  me that yer sexual needs gotta be taken care of, I get it.” “It’s…really not what it looks like, got it? Anyways, don’t you have a soulmate to call? I’m sure she’s worried out of her mind.” His eyes widened as he remembered, he must have totally forgotten about her. McCree frantically searched for his phone. You were glad that the attention wasn’t on you anymore, now you’d get to take care of the really important things. As you headed towards the elevator, you could hear bits of McCree’s conversation, making you smile in amusement. “No, I haven’t slept yet, honey. Yes, everything went well. No, I’m not injured, really. No, not even a bruise. What? Why would I be sleepin’ with someone else? Where are ya getting’ that from all of a sudden? Yes, I’ll take a shower before we head back. No. Yes. Yes. What? Oh, of course. Yes, I love ya too. Take care. Bye.”

As you finally entered your hotel room a few minutes later, you were glad to find your soulmate actually there. His back was turned towards you again, he looked out of the window, lost in his thoughts. 

“Take it off. That visor. I’m not gonna have this discussion with you when I can’t even properly look you in the eye.” He didn’t move. He didn’t take it off, just kept staring out of the window. “You won’t like what you’ll see.” “For god’s sake, Jack! I said take it off!” “I’m not the same man anymore.” “Take it off.” “I’ve become old.” “Take it off.” “You don’t want me to-“ This wasn’t going anywhere so you decided to take matters into your own hand. You reached up to cup his cheeks, quickly finding the buttons you were looking for. A hissing sound filled the room as steam was released from the mask. You threw it on the bed. 

He averted his gaze to the floor. You took in his features, his familiar face that was now marked by two large scars, his slight beard stubble, and his crystal blue eyes. You could understand why he was worried, he had changed a lot but not in a bad way. Jack appeared a lot wiser ad manlier than ever before. Those events had marked him but he was still the beautiful man you had helplessly fallen in love with. 

“You had absolutely no reason to hide from me, poster boy.” “I’m not that golden poster boy anymore. Just look at me.” “To me, you still are, Jack. And you will always be. You should have known.” He still wasn’t looking at you so you turned his head. “Why? Why didn’t you reach out to me? Just…one single message. One message that you’re alive and well but can’t meet me yet. Anything but this.” You felt the tears streaming down your face. This situation was too overwhelming. As soon as you looked him in the eyes again, the colors returned to shine as brightly as before. The dull world was forgotten, everything was back to how it was supposed to be. These eyes with the color of the sky staring into yours again. This was everything you’ve ever wanted for the past six years, to be back to normal. But would everything be able to turn back to normal again? You had only just met for the first time in ages, would things get back to how they were?

“I’m sorry, I really am. I know there is no excuse for what I’ve done. It’s just…I was too afraid to face you. After all these scandals about Overwatch coming to light…after what has happened to me, I was scared you would reject me.”

“Jack, did you completely forget about the concept of soulmates? I could never hate you. Well, I am currently hating you a little bit for leaving me in the dark all those years but what matters to me right now, is that I’ve found you. Just do me a favor and don’t ever disappear again. I couldn’t stand to lose you one more time.”

You instantly wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your face against his chest and inhaling the scent you’ve missed so much. He slowly returned the embrace, though still hesitant. “I won’t leave you again, I promise.” “You know you’re terrible at keeping promises, right?” He looked down at you in confusion. “You didn’t take me out to my favorite restaurant that night.” A deep, bitter chuckle escaped his lips. “Well, something kind of got in the way. I’m sure we can make up for it some time.” “Good. Because you still owe me something.” You pulled out a necklace from under your shirt and slowly fidgeted with the engagement ring attached to it. Jack’s eyes went wide in surprise. “You kept it?” “Obviously. I knew you weren’t dead so why would I give up on this?” You could see his lips form into a soft smile. It was the first time you had seen him smile ever since he had left you behind in his bed that morning.

“Will you please just kiss me now? I need to make sure you know what you’ve been missing out on.” Jack had never been happier to oblige to one of your requests. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 

[jessejackreyes]

Twilight of an Empire chapter one

I have decided to post this while I have a few minutes available. I am working on fosterwatch and DoPaF, but I got stuck on this and needed to finish it before I could get back to other things. This is much rougher than the prologue, but I wanted to mix up writing styles and techniques. It's a bit more practice than anything but it's fun and I like it. Chapter One “Today is a day of remembrance, but also of celebration,” The words of Katya Volskaya reach across the world as the keynote speech from the UN floor. “Five years ago a reign of terror came to an end and we were able to reclaim what we fought for from those who would deny us our freedom,” “I and many others fought with all We had against the strike commander’s reign and even though our victory did not come entirely on our terms, we celebrate our freedom. But, we also do not forget our servitude. We do not forget what was taken from us,” The crowd is energized by her words, her audience in the hundreds of millions as the signal that is being broadcast cut out suddenly. Even the monitors in the room where she is giving her speech go dark. A purple skull appears across every screen that had tuned in, the calling card of the hacker group known only as Sombra. Moments later the screen displays an image that most people over twenty or so in the crowd instantly recognize. A man in his thirties wearing a dark cowboy getup. Boots, spurs, hat, chaps, everything you would expect from a movie cowboy. The black hat and bright red serape pull attention upwards. He advertises the side he is on with his fashion choices, black hats were not worn by the good guys after all . He is flashing a devilish grin at whatever camera had captured this picture, he is far more charming than he has any right to be. Name: Jesse McCree Alias: Deadeye Age: 37 Height: 6’ 1” Affiliation: Overwatch (Blackwatch) Known Living Associates: Dragon, Tracer Believed to be hiding out in the Midwestern United States Last Sighting: Houston Train Incident History: Jesse McCree, was recruited into Overwatch’s black ops division by order of the strike commander himself. At seventeen he was working with a gang of gunrunners out of the American Midwest, the Deadlock gang. The gang came into conflict with Overwatch and, in an operation to clean it up, all known members of the gang were killed save for one. Sources say young Jesse McCree killed seven highly trained agents by himself and instead of being summarily executed when he was subdued, he was offered a chance to join the organization instead of dying like the rest of his gang. He quickly chose to join. McCree was trained by Ana Amari to master his already incredible skills with a gun. He quickly became a sharpshooter of nearly unrivaled skill and speed. He was given the callsign Deadeye because if he could see you he could put a bullet between your eyes before you could react. His expertise in stealth and accuracy made him an accomplished assassin and a feared combatant. The name Deadeye is still known to strike fear into the hearts of people who had the misfortune of meeting him. It is hard to track down an exhaustive list of his deeds while in Blackwatch, much of the information is unrecoverable, but a brief list of notable deeds includes: The assassination of the United States president Hernandez after the Horus Massacres, destroying and stealing the plans for the Volskaya Ares prototype mech, the murders of Alexei and Galina Volskaya, the Numbani incident, too many accounts of kidnapping children of influential individuals to count, the televised execution of the entire New European Liberation Front’s leadership, the kidnapping and torture of at least six individuals to force NewClove to restore production of his preferred cigarillo. An entire list of confirmed and suspected acts is attached at the end of this file. McCree was well liked by all accounts throughout his tenure in Overwatch. Sources tell us that the young gunslinger developed a close relationship with strike commander Jack Morrison and was often sent on missions that Morrison could trust to very few people. The serape he wears was a gift from the strike commander after his successful assassination of the president of the United States. He was known to informally refer to the strike commander as “boss,” similar privileges were afforded to very few members of Overwatch. He disappeared after the fall of Zurich like many of the most prominent members of Overwatch. He has caused a bit of trouble now and then, but stayed mostly out of notice before Houston. The Houston Train Incident Two weeks ago, on a luxury bullet train heading through Houston, TX, footage was captured as Jesse McCree snuck on board, murdered the security professionals and stole an unknown object of unknown worth and origins. Given the nature of the crime and the conversations overheard, it is our opinion that this event should be treated as potentially indicative of future threats from Deadeye and whoever he may be working for. As a result it is believed that the identity of who Deadeye is working for should be investigated immediately and without worrying about the potential costs of such an investigation. Attached is a copy of the most important pieces of the security footage obtained from the incident. The screen shifts to a video feed. The video opens on the interior of a train car. The landscape flying by rapidly is visible through the windows as the people in the car dine, the quiet murmur of conversation is heard. The scene is oddly out of place juxtaposed to the wanted criminal people call Deadeye. Then there are gunshots from out of view of the camera. People scream and three fall over on screen, blood pouring from wounds between their eyes. “Now, now, y’all need just stay in your seats and calm yerselves down,” An oddly cheerful voice drawls from just outside the frame. “Keep yer heads on those tables down and ya get to finish yer little trip,” The entire car freezes briefly before the passengers place their heads down, staring away as a familiar man in a getup straight out of a spaghetti western stalks into the car, hat black as night, serape sanguine like the blood he spills. His left arms is mechanical, something that the profile picture earlier did not show. Jesse McCree saunters his way through a dining car full of seemingly rich passengers and it's as if the last five years have been a dream. The fear the people in the video feel as this man so casually threatens their lives, as he grabs a bottle of bourbon from a table within reach and takes a swig, it's mirrored by the fear of the crowd now watching the events unfold. They were not supposed to need to be afraid of Overwatch anymore. The view suddenly switches to another camera, the time stamp informing them that it takes place several minutes later. Deadeye drags someone working for the train, the conductor perhaps into the car. He tosses the man to the ground in front of a large safe, presumably where they kept particularly precious cargo. “Relax,” The outlaw drawls once again, though it could only really be a joke. “I jus’ wantcha to open this ol’ safe. Do that and I let ya go on yer merry little way,” To the man’s credit, despite the tear streaming down his face he shakes his head and refuses. “Yer funeral,” The gunslinger’s revolver quickly presses to his prisoners temple. “Sure you don't wanna reconsider?” “I'm the only person on board who can open it!” The conductor all but shouts hastily shutting his eyes reflexively. “That so?” The man nods frantically. “Reckon that's why yer bein’ so brave. Can't kill ya til you open it,” McCree laughs at the relieved sigh his captive lets out. “Good thing I came prepared then ain't it?” Deadeye saunters passed the vault without a care. “It's hilarious how no one bat an eye when I registered luggage under my name,” He drags a locked case from further back in the storage car. “Property of Jesse McCree,” He laughs showing the tag attached to the case. “They probably thought it was a joke,” The conductor gapes as he sees that the case was indeed brought on board and registered under the name of one of the world's most wanted criminals.. “Y'all really should be more careful,” The cowboy remarks as he turns to gather another case tagged with his name. The conductor watches in silence as McCree gathers three rather large cases in front of the man. “Go ahead and open one o’ them Will,” The cowboy receives a confused stare. “That is your name right? William Walker, born and raised in Louisville, divorced, father o’ three. I could go on, but I'm sure you want to get to yer surprise,” Deadeye laughs again and tosses the man a key. Walker slowly moves toward the case nearest to him. Kneeling done he hesitates before placing the key inside and turning it. The case all but springs open revealing what appears to be a young boy, maybe 10, curled up into a ball, bound with an oxygen mask around his mouth. The conductor gasps, eyes wet with tears as he realizes who is in the case. “Jeffry?” The name is choked out as he frantically searches for signs of life. He’s breathing softly, but not moving. He moves frantically to the next case and opens it. A girl, slightly older than the first child. “Bethany,” The third case is opened, tears running down his eyes. “Sean…” It's another boy even younger than the first. “Told ya I was prepared. I always know my targets inside and out,” A terrifying grin creeps onto the gunslinger’s face and Walkers face blanches in terror. “See I need you alive, not them,” Every tiny ounce of bravado that the conductor had managed to hold against Deadeye vanishes at the threat, not to himself, but to his children. “Now why don't you be a pal and open that vault door fer me,” William Walker moves now with a purpose. The vault door accepted the code that he input, then it accepted his fingerprints and retinal scan. After a minute or so of security systems the vault locks twisted and he wrenches the door open. The angle of the camera does not allow a good look inside. “Now hop on in there and grab that glowing box,” The conductor hesitates for the briefest of moments, but he hears the spinning of Deadeye’s revolver chamber and bounds in. He returned a minute later, slowly dragging a strange box that glowed a bright purple. “Thank ya kindly,” McCree thanks him mockingly. He grabs his prize from the scared father and his gun fires loudly, the conductor falls to the ground screaming and clutching his leg. “Jus’ be glad I'm in a good mood and these kids get to keep their daddy,” The man stalks away from the scene whistling a tune. The camera switches back to the first shot as He returns to the dining car, that had mostly been emptied of people. A single anxious and scared server remains however. He clearly does not want to be there and that only worsens as Deadeye reenters the car and sat down at one of the tables, relaxed, with his feet resting on the table in front of him. “Get me somethin’ good to eat,” He orders the server who ran off with a quick ‘yes sir.’ “And something with bite to drink!” He shouted after the man. A communicator buzzes loudly, a call that Deadeye answers with a sigh. “Howdy,” A brief silence ensues. “Yeah I got it. Nah I'm still on the train. I'm hungry. I'll be fine. You'll have the package in a few days don’ worry. Have I ever let you down before?” Another pause. “Oh come on that doesn't count and you know it,” Deadeye laughs, a bright smile on his face. “Alright, see ya soon boss,” The server returns with some food and a bottle of whiskey just as McCree is finishing up his call. The video speeds through an extended scene of the man casually eating a meal as the train continues on its way. The server stands off to the side nervously, clearly hoping the crazed gunman likes the food. His mechanical hand pulls out a cigarillo to relax himself as he finishes his meal. He then turns to face directly at the camera observing him. “Hope y'all enjoyed my little show. I do look so good on camera after all,” he drawls with a laugh. The last picture the camera picks up is the gunslinger pointing his revolver at the camera and hearing a loud bang before the picture cuts out. The celebratory and energetic atmosphere is gone from the room as the purple skull returns to the screen. The skull fades away to the message ‘Do not let the past repeat,’ The screen goes black at the words before returning to the camera feed that was recording Katya’s speech. Though Ms. Volskaya is no longer at the podium, instead she storms off the stage quickly, clearly irritated. This day does not end in the celebration that was planned, instead worry and fear are left to fester.

[dodadum]

Mercy76 week - Day 1 “Firsts”

I just realised that this old draft kinda fits with the theme of day 1! First "date" and first kiss. I hope you enjoy my first published Mercy76 fic! (I am super nervous about posting this hahaha)

(Btw, the song I quote is The Devil by Michael Mott performed by Sierra Boggess. Go listen to it! It’s a great song ❤)

Jack, you really don’t have to do this..“ Angela groaned as Jack pushed her along with him out of the building. She could admit that she had been locked inside her office for a bit too long, but she had things to do! Jack couldn’t just barge into her office and force her with him outside. Not that she didn’t like it, she enjoyed having someone care about her own health for once.

“Oh yes I do! Angela you’ve been glued to that desk for three days now, you need to get some fresh air.” Jack said in a very scolding manner, but laughed it off. They exited the building and walked out into the chilly November weather. It wasn’t snowing, but it was still quite cold. Angela immediately felt her cheeks redden from the cold, as she was used to the heating in her office.

“Where are we even going?” Angela asked, tightening her scarf around her. She asked, a little irritated as she thought about all the work she still had to do when she got back. This had only delayed her research even further.

“It’s a surprise. And would you stop thinking about work? I can tell just by the look on your face that you’re thinking of that big heap of papers on your desk. Can you please try and relax? Just for today? For me?” Jack smiled and looked down at her with his puppy-dog eyes. Angela sighed and pouted her lips.

“I might try.” The corners of her mouth turned up into a soft smile.

“Alright, we’re here! You don’t even know it yet, Angie, but this is gonna be your new favourite restaurant.”

They rounded a corner and Jack pointed at a medium-sized building with a tiny sign in front of it that read “Maurice’s Angel Bistro”. Angela snickered and Jack glared down at her.

“What’s the deal? Are you mocking me for my taste in food?”

“No, no..” Angela laughed. “You do know that I know Maurice, right?”

Jack’s jaw fell to the ground.

“You know THE Maurice? How?!”

“I thought that’s why you brought me here.. He and I met while I was studying for a year in France and after meeting me he decided to branch his restaurant into Switzerland. I’ve been a loyal customer ever since. He’s like family! But we haven’t spoken at all since I joined Overwatch, so I doubt he’ll recognise me..” Angela gave a half-hearted smile and put a strand of her hair behind her ear. They stepped inside and the warm atmosphere was like a shock from the cold air outside. Before they were even barely inside they heard heavy footsteps quickly approaching them. Angela felt a pair of thick arms around her as she was swept into the air.

“Angela! Mon ange!” The man named Maurice exclaimed with a large smile. Angela smiled back with a laugh as Maurice put her back on the floor.

“Hello Maurice, it’s been way too long.”

“Indeed it has, mon cheri. You should know better and call every now and then!”

Jack could barely hear the man trough his thick French accent. He chuckled as Angela was put back down on the ground. That’s when Maurice looked at him.

“My my, isn’t it Jack Morrison, the poster boy of Overwatch itself? What are you doing with my angel out like this?” Maurice raised a brow and leaned in close to him. He was a very tall man, and easily overshadowed Jack.

“Oh, it’s nothing like that Monsieur! I’m just treating Angela dinner.”

“That’s a shame, she’s a very good girl you know.” Maurice whispered to him and grinned with a chuckle. Jack blushed.

“Come on, l’ll get you two a table before I go back into the kitchen.” Maurice led Jack and Angela to a table by a window, a little separated from the rest, and left them with some menus as he went back to the kitchen as he said he would.

Jack noticed there was someone up on the stage playing piano music and an empty mic standing in the middle of the stage. Perhaps it was open mic night?

“Maurice can be a bit overwhelming the first time you meet him, but I promise he’s a good man once you get to know him.” Angela said as she looked up from her menu.

“Oh, that was nothing. He seems nice.” Jack chuckled and closed his menu, having already decided on his dish. “Pick whatever you want, by the way. My treat.”

Angela wanted to resist and urge him that she could pay for herself, but knew she would be starting an already lost argument. She smiled in response and looked back into the menu.

“I’ve never been here on an open-mic night before. You think anyone will sing?” Jack asked as he looked back at the stage, making him miss Angela’s eyes widening with an expression similar to fear.

Not today. Any day but today, she thought to herself.

“I-I don’t know, no one has ever sung when I’ve been here!”

She tried to laugh away her nervousness but failed horribly.

Not long after they had been seated Maurice returned with a expensive-looking bottle of wine which he poured up in two glasses and placed them in front of Angela and Jack. They made their orders and Maurice took the menus. That’s when he glanced at Angela with a smirk.

Angela shook her head furiously.

“No, Maurice I am not going up there! I haven’t…”

“Nonsense! Pierre is here, he remembers your song well! Couldn’t you do it, just for this old fool? S'il vous plaît? For old times’ sake!” Maurice batted his eyelashes which made Angela laugh. Jack was staring at the two, wondering what in the world was going on.

Maurice then suddenly grabbed Angela’s arm and pulled her out of her seat.

“I’m very sorry, Monsieur Jack, but I am going to have to steal your angel for one moment. You will see her again soon, I promise.” Maurice winked and hurried with Angela towards the stage.

“I’m sorry, Jack!” Angela called back to him with a nervous smile before she was rushed away. Jack just chuckled, still very confused about the whole situation.

Jack watched Angela get put onto the stage and sat down on a bar-stool type of chair by the mic. The man by the piano finished his piece and looked at Angela, awaiting her call. She looked very nervous. Somehow Jack’s eyes met hers despite the distance between them and Jack gave her a reassuring smile. It seemed to calm her down as she smiled back and looked at the man by the piano who started playing soft notes. Then she started singing.

“Oh, the devil has a secret… And he’ll keep it as long as he can… He will mask his face any time or place, but beneath is one hell of a man.”

Jack was absolutely baffled and mesmerised by her voice. He could never have imagined that she could sing, especially like that. His heart seemed to flutter just listening to her.

“But when he calls out my name, I submit to his game… I remember the night when he followed my light as he came face to face with my flame…”

Jack never wanted that magical moment to end, but as the song drew to a close he cheered and clapped loudly along with the rest of the audience. Angela bowed with a wide and bright smile on her face before she made her way down from the stage back to their table. As she saw his gaping mouth she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Should I take that as a positive response?”

“Angela, that was absolutely amazing! I had no idea you could sing like that.” Jack gave her the most genuine smile he could as they sat back down and their food arrived. During their dinner, Angela couldn’t help but glance up at Jack’s few times, who looked very handsome in the candle light. She caught Jack’s glance a few times as well, thinking she had been caught when it in fact she caught him staring at her.

They said goodbye to Maurice on the way out of the restaurant to brace the great outdoors. It had already gotten dark and the only light now came from the moon and the dim streetlights. It had also started snowing, which left the both of them shocked. But it served as a reason for Angela to stay close to Jack so they could both be warm.

“Well, here we are.” Angela said as they closed up on her apartment building. She stayed close to him, wrapped around his arm all the way to the door.

“I had a great time at least, filled with lots of surprises.” Jack chuckled and looked down at her.

“I had a lovely time as well. Thank you for dragging me out here, Jack.” She smiled up at him. She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek but Jack’s head turned at the last second, by accident or not she’ll never know, and their lips met with a weird mix of cold air and warm breaths. What surprised them both was that neither of them pulled away at first, they simply stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity. Jack’s arm wrapped around her back and held her close, even when they parted. They both had a deep blush on their cheeks. Then they started laughing. Her laugh was one the most beautiful things he’d ever heard in his life, tied with her singing.

“Goodnight, Jack.” Angela smiled and kissed him on the cheek this time before slipping out of his grip and walking into her apartment building. She waved goodbye before she was completely gone. Jack’s heart felt like it was beating a thousand beats per minute and he grinned to himself as he made his way to the bus stop.

He just kissed Angela.

This had surely been the best day of his life.

Thanks for reading ❤

[pearlsephoni]

i have homework i need to do

plso here’s a list of questions that are supposed to be sent as asks but i felt like answering them myself rip productivity and sleep leggo

200: My crush’s name is: lol people I know irl follow me they don’t need to know this 199: I was born in: Galle, Sri Lanka 198: I am really: sleep-deprived 197: My cellphone company is: AT&T 196: My eye color is: Daaaaaaaark brown 195: My shoe size is: 6 194: My ring size is: I don’t actually, but I guess one of the smallest sizes 193: My height is: 5′1 192: I am allergic to: pet dander 😢 191: My 1st car was: still don’t have my license rip 190: My 1st job was: working in a lab! 189: Last book you read: Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison (I’ve been working on like five other books for the last year why am i like this) 188: My bed is: a lofted long twin, gotta love dorm beds 187: My pet: don’t have one 186: My best friend: got three, love them all 185: My favorite shampoo is: SheaMoisture’s Coconut and Hibiscus Curl and Shine has been great  184: Xbox or ps3: PS3 183: Piggy banks are: wonderful 182: In my pockets: my headphones 181: On my calendar: so many projects and presentations and finals rip 180: Marriage is: what you make of it 179: Spongebob can: ...do whatever he wants? i don’t care 178: My mom: is one of the best people in the world 177: The last three songs I bought were? Dead Girl Walking, La La Latch, and the 21 Chump St soundtrack 176: Last YouTube video watched: What If? feat. Daniel Radcliffe, by Anna Akana 175: How many cousins do you have? 7 174: Do you have any siblings? nope 173: Are your parents divorced? nope 172: Are you taller than your mom? we’re the same height 171: Do you play an instrument? Piano (badly), and I used to play clarinet 170: What did you do yesterday? classes, lab work, IRO meeting, then stayed up Way Too Late finishing an assignment [ I Believe In ] 169: Love at first sight: nah, I believe in attraction at first sight tho 168: Luck: Yeah 167: Fate: Yeah 166: Yourself: Working on it 165: Aliens: Yeah 164: Heaven: um 163: Hell: uh 162: God: haven’t thought about it as much as I probably should’ve 161: Horoscopes: not usually, but they’re fun 160: Soul mates: I kinda do, but I wish I didn’t, because it’s such a stressful concept to me 159: Ghosts: not really, but I’ll still get spooked at haunted places 158: Gay Marriage: YES???? 157: War: no 156: Orbs: don’t really know anything about that 155: Magic: no, but I wish I did [ This or That ] 154: Hugs or Kisses: Hugs 153: Drunk or High: never been high 152: Phone or Online: online 151: Red heads or Black haired: black haired 150: Blondes or Brunettes: brunettes (all my crushes have been brunettes, idk how or why)  149: Hot or cold: Hot 148: Summer or winter: summer 147: Autumn or Spring: spring 146: Chocolate or vanilla: vanilla 145: Night or Day: both  144: Oranges or Apples: Oranges 143: Curly or Straight hair: Curly 142: McDonalds or Burger King: McDonalds 141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: Milk 140: Mac or PC: PC 139: Flip flops or high heals: flip flops  138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: Sweet and poor 137: Coke or Pepsi: Coke 136: Hillary or Obama: hoo boy, Obama 135: Burried or cremated: Cremated 134: Singing or Dancing: Dancing 133: Coach or Chanel: Coach 132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: lmao Taylor Hicks what a throwback tho 131: Small town or Big city: Big city 130: Wal-Mart or Target: Target 129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: Ben Stiller (unfollow me if you pick Sandler omg) 128: Manicure or Pedicure: Manicure 127: East Coast or West Coast: East Coast 126: Your Birthday or Christmas: Christmas 125: Chocolate or Flowers: Flowers 124: Disney or Six Flags: Disney 123: Yankees or Red Sox: Red Sox [ Here’s What I Think About ] 122: War: unnecessary  121: George Bush: really don’t like this weird “kind grandpa” tour he’s going on. appreciate him acknowledging his mistakes though 120: Gay Marriage: Should be accessible to anyone and everyone, and the continued persecution of gay people (and people of every non-hetero sexuality) is disgusting  119: The presidential election: Hell On Earth 118: Abortion: Should be accessible to anyone and everyone 117: MySpace: Let it die 116: Reality TV: Let it die 115: Parents: I’ve been blessed with amazing ones, but not everyone is, and everyone should be able to define their relationship to them without society trying to enforce judgement on them 114: Back stabbers: been on both ends of that 113: Ebay: where I go for kpop things rip my wallet 112: Facebook: I’m embarrassed by how much I still use it 111: Work: nice. people at Wharton can be so stuck-up though, why are theatre kids like this 110: My Neighbors: Love them!  109: Gas Prices: pls 108: Designer Clothes: I think they’re super pretty, but they’re just not something I could personally invest that kind of money into 107: College: Should be accessible to anyone and everyone 106: Sports: wow I really don’t give a fuck outside of the Olympics. wish I did.  105: My family: Love my parents, love my maternal grandmother, wish I had a better relationship with the rest.  104: The future: Wow! Fuck! Terrifying!  [ Last time I ] 103: Hugged someone: Saturday night 102: Last time you ate: Eating chocolate rn lol 101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: yesterday when I saw one of my asshole high school classmates twice in one day what kind of fuckery 100: Cried in front of someone: oh wow...it might have been the day after the elections? or my first therapy session? I don’t remember which came first oops 99: Went to a movie theater: March 24th, to see the Beauty and the Beast remake lmao 98: Took a vacation: Spring break, went to NYC with one of my close friends  97: Swam in a pool: Jamaica, the first week of January 96: Changed a diaper: over the summer, while babysitting 95: Got my nails done: never gotten them done professionally!  94: Went to a wedding: uhhhhhhh I must’ve still been in pre-school I think 93: Broke a bone: never happened to me g bless 92: Got a peircing: when I was a baby lmao 91: Broke the law: I guess underage drinking counts, so this past weekend lol 90: Texted: an hour? ago? I think?  [ MISC ] 89: Who makes you laugh the most: Leslie  88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my parents, my mom’s cooking, the kids on my street  87: The last movie I saw: Split (unless the last ep of Black Mirror counts because that was a 2 hour doozy) 86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: Going to Mexico this summer 85: The thing im not looking forward to: finding out how my crush feels about me 84: People call me: smol, cute, sweet, angry 83: The most difficult thing to do is: confrontation 82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: nope 81: My zodiac sign is: Bull 80: The first person i talked to today was: my linguistics prof 79: First time you had a crush: elementary school  78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: my mom and Jaylen 77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: Lizy, last week 76: Right now I am talking to: no one  75: What are you going to do when you grow up: be a doctor? hopefully? and travel? ahhhhhhhhh 74: I have/will get a job: yee 73: Tomorrow: I have a test in Spanish and have to work on a group presentation rip 72: Today: NEED TO GET THIS DAMN PROPOSAL DONE 71: Next Summer: this coming summer? going to Mexico, still don’t know what I’m doing for the second half why does this keep happening 70: Next Weekend: Working Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time! so excited, I’ve been looking forward to this show for the past year 69: I have these pets: none :’(  68: The worst sound in the world: screams of pain 67: The person that makes me cry the most is: my mooooooooom (because I love her so much)  66: People that make you happy: my parents, my friends, I’ve been blessed with the people in my life 65: Last time I cried: probably two weeks ago, my mind wouldn’t shut up before bed  64: My friends are: the most patient people in the world 63: My computer is: doing its best, wish it had more memory 62: My School: is great!  61: My Car: nonexistent 60: I lose all respect for people who: voted for Trump 59: The movie I cried at was: the last one was Lion 58: Your hair color is: black 57: TV shows you watch: Too Many 56: Favorite web site: Facebook, Tumblr, YouTube 55: Your dream vacation: living in Paris for 1+ month 54: The worst pain I was ever in was: all of junior year of high school 53: How do you like your steak cooked: I’m pescatarian lmao 52: My room is: small, but lovely 51: My favorite celebrity is: uhhhh Viola Davis 50: Where would you like to be: Paris, NYC, Disney World 49: Do you want children: still not sure honestly 48: Ever been in love: unrequited, but yeah 47: Who’s your best friend: my mom, Jaylen, Riley, Leslie 46: More guy friends or girl friends: woah so many more girl friends 45: One thing that makes you feel great is: getting enough sleep 44: One person that you wish you could see right now: my parents, my crush, Jaylen 43: Do you have a 5 year plan: kind..of...it depends on a lot of variable tho 42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: tentative, but yeah 41: Have you pre-named your children: nah 40: Last person I got mad at: does sean spicer count 39: I would like to move to: NYC, Madrid, Paris (why am i so bougie why am i like this)  38: I wish I was a professional: actress [ My Favorites ] 37: Candy: sour patch kids, airheads xtremes, cotton candy 36: Vehicle: Volkswagon Beetle, the last generation when it was still round rip 35: President: Obama? 34: State visited: California 33: Cellphone provider: AT&T i guess 32: Athlete: Simone Biles 31: Actor: at the moment, Dev Patel 30: Actress: at the moment, Phillipa Soo and Viola Davis 29: Singer: at the moment, Bruno Mars 28: Band: at the moment, EXO and Royal Pirates 27: Clothing store: Rue 21 26: Grocery store: Meijer and Kroger 25: TV show: at the moment...shit, I don’t really know 24: Movie: at the moment, Amelie 23: Website: tumblr, facebook, youtube 22: Animal: elephants 21: Theme park: Disney World 20: Holiday: Christmas 19: Sport to watch: Figure skating 18: Sport to play: uh badminton I guess 17: Magazine: Entertainment Weekly 16: Book: The Night Circus 15: Day of the week: Friday 14: Beach: Galle 13: Concert attended: Bruno Mars’ Moonshine Jungle with Jaylen 12: Thing to cook: omelettes 11: Food: my mom’s food, spicy ramyun, macarons 10: Restaurant: Boiling Pots 9: Radio station: 98.7 in Detroit  8: Yankee candle scent: don’t really know 7: Perfume: Marc Jacobs Daisy 6: Flower: plumerias, cherry blossoms, roses, daffodils 5: Color: piiiiiiiiiink  4: Talk show host: I still miss Oprah tbh 3: Comedian: John Oliver, John Mulaney, Mike Birbiglia (I know, I need to diversify my choices)  2: Dog breed: corgis, samoyeds, labradors, goldens, poodles 1: Did you answer all these truthfully? I tried? 

[doctorcanon]

The First Time Devonte calls Sookie “Bubblegum”

I’ve been hoping to write something about Where the Grass bleeds in a while. This is just a study of Sookie’s experience with Gender Dysphoria and her transition. Bear in mind that Sookie’s view on her identity does change as she gets older. She’s not as well adjusted as she wants to believe. For now, keep in mind that Sookie doesn’t take E and has no voice training. Also may or may not be the first sign of Devonte’s crush.

Sookie doesn't have the car today so they take the bus to her house instead. This town is such a ancient mess, Devonte's surprised to see the subdivisions roll by. He's so used to downtown and the stench of white washed history. He didn't think Morrison Falls knew how to how to be new. It's a lot of construction. He can smell the saw dust on the air. There's comfort in building something new but you also have to lead something behind. He hopes someone is taking care of his mother's grave.

The bus rolls to a stop in front of Brighton Gardens, a pleasant little slice of suburbia with brightly colored houses. These houses seem  a little older than the other subdivisions and a little closer together. Sookie nudges Devonte. This is their stop. He follows her off the bus and Sookie watches as he friend just stands there taking in the scenery.

“Take a picture, man.” She says impatiently. Devonte snaps out of his little daze and rushes to catch up with her. “You okay?” She asks, knowing he'll lie. He does and tells her everything's fine. They walk in silence and Sookie lets him take in their surroundings. Devonte's new here, he's never seen this part of town. He's a quiet guy and sometimes it's best to let him be quiet. The other kids getting off the bus give them a wide berth, eyeing them suspicious. Sookie flips both birds since Devonte isn't paying attention and they reach her house without incident.

Devonte can't help but marvel at the light blue stucco house, lined with gray bricks. There are bird feeders in the windows, plants in the yard and a good luck charm hanging over the window. The mailbox proudly boasts that it belongs to the Park Family in bold Korean. It's covered multi-colored hand prints, some older than others.

“Which one's yours?” He asks. Sookie gives him a look but she never complains. She just points to the dusty pink one she placed on it when she was five. Devonte smiles a little, happy he guessed right.

“Hey...about mom...” Sookie warns. “She's gonna hug you. Just be prepared for that.” Devonte nods dutifully. He wants to impress Ms. Park. If he can't impress her, he can't hang out with Sookie and that is just unacceptable. Sookie unlocks the door and the first thing Devonte notices is the smell. Whatever Ms. Park is cooking, it smells deliciously spicy. “Annyeong, eomma!” Sookie slips out of her shoes as Devonte struggles to toe off his Converse. Ms. Park shouts something back in Korean. “Don't be nervous, okay? She's harmless.” No promises. This is nothing like Devonte's house. There's life here. There's decorations, house plants and family photos. It's brightly lit and the TV is playing something other than the early afternoon news. He likes this place. It's loud but it feels safe.

“Is this Devonte?” Ms. Park has a very accent but her English is perfectly coherent. She rounds the corner into the living room, taking off a soiled apron. She's short compared to her daughter. Her blue floral shirt nearly matches her house. It's easy to see where Sookie gets that smile of hers. He panicks upon realizing the question isn't rhetorical.

“Um...yes. Yes, ma'am.” He says, warmth creeps into his face and he scratches the back of his head. He must've done well because Ms. Park looks absolutely delighted.

“Oh my goodness! You're so polite!” Here comes the hug. It's as awkward as he expected and Ms. Park doesn't seem to notice. People in his family don't hug. He doesn't know if he should hug her back or pat her back. By the time he decides that he has to do something, Ms. Park lets him go. “Not that I expect anything less. Sook-yin knows better.” She grabs pats her daughter's cheek affectionately. “I heard that you like spicy food so we're having Dakgangjeong tonight.” Devonte looks to Sookie for translation and she just mouths “fried chicken”. Awesome, he's never had Korean Fried Chicken before. He had no idea it was supposed to be spicy.

“We're gonna be studying for a while, eomma, but if you've got the time could you show Devonte your herb garden?” Sookie asks. Devonte fights to suppress a grin of excitement.

“Of course! If you're finished with your studying by then.” Ms. Park says with one last smile at Devonte. “I'll call you when dinner's ready.” Sookie pats Devonte on the shoulder and goes to lead him upstairs. Hallway to upstairs is filled with even more photographs. There's one though, that catches Devonte's attentions.

It's a new years portrait. All ten members of the Park Family are dressed to the nines in Hanbok posing with what he can only assume is an old family dog. Sookie can't be older than eight years old here. She's wearing a little boy's hanbok and her hair is cropped short. Wow, even at that age Sookie perfected the art of smiling without looking happy. He wonders how this child become the girl he knows now. She must've been so unhappy back then. Maybe that's why she understands him so well.

“Hey, Sookie?” He asks. Sookie's already in her bedroom, putting her backpack and jacket away. She pokes her head out. “Isn't having this picture up kinda weird for you?”

“Not really.” She replies. “It's the last photo we have of Bomi before she died.” She means the graying German Shepherd at the bottom of the photo.

“I mean...”

“I know what you mean.” Sookie says before he feels the need to explain himself. “It's not a big deal to me, really.” She says examining the photo. Wow, Dad looks so weird with that mustache. It occurs to her that this is the first time Devonte has seen her before her transition. This little boy in the photo is a stranger to him. To him, that's not Sookie. He means well, she's sure but that's not how it works. “That's still me.” She explains. “I've always been Sook-yin.” Devonte just looks confused. “Everyone grows up to become something, Dev. I grew up into a girl and being a girl makes me happy. My name has always been Sook-yin, that little boy isn't dead. I just grew up to become someone different. Can you honestly say that you're the same person that you were when you were a kid?” Devonte shakes his head even though it's a rhetorical question. “Sook-yin is a girl now and not to brag but I make a damn good one.” Something stirs in Devonte's chest when Sookie looks back at him. She's different here. He's so used to seeing her school persona, wearing her loud, brash battle armor. Everyday is a battle. This is the first time they've let their guard down. There's something special about this house.

“You know...” Devonte says turning from the photo to his new friend. Her gloss covered lips grin widely and he finds nothing but fondness in those dark gray eyes. Her pink hair, dark at the roots, shines in the sunlight from her bedroom window. Usually so sharp and brutal, she trusts him enough to take off her pastel armor in front of him. He will respond in kind. “You're pretty cool, Bubblegum.”

[pcndemoniums]

VERSE: KNOCKED UP CHARACTERS:  SURI MORRISON YEAR: SPRING 2004 LOCATION: ADDICTION RECOVERY CENTER FOR TROUBLED TEENS, NYC

In 30 days you’ll be fixed. By 29 days she’s already counting down. Even when in school Suri had never found much use for a calendar. Rarely did she wake up in the morning realizing that it was her birthday or Christmas or some other stupid Hallmark holiday. Despite this, there are 24 days to go and she still remembers. “Honey you have to sign your name on the line for me.” Suri sighs and reluctantly grabs the blue erasable pen out of the nurse’s hand. This is her first week of rehab but the withdrawals as not as bad. Not with methadone anyway. “Here you go, sweetheart.” The nurse hands her a cup with a small round white pill inside it for her to take on the spot. Then back to her room. Suri doesn’t mind being alone so much. She’s never really alone anymore, anyway—there’s a constant barrage of health nurses, therapists, and parole officers, social workers, group homes, and foster mothers. And on Tuesdays, from 5:30 to 7:00, there’s Dr. Kearning, with his disgusting fat rolls in his armpits.  Everyone else around here is dynamic, non-permanent, mere visitors coming in and out of her life. 

Sleep doesn’t come easy. But when it does, it’s vivid. There are creatures. Gnarly rows of snapping teeth and muscles that could give a pro-wrestler a run for their money. Day 21 is where the panic sets in, and she realizes– with more unavoidable clarity than before– that yes, she will be out of this hellhole in 21 days, and she has no idea what she’s going to do. Avoiding temptations is easy when they are not in your face all the time. And she doesn’t want to go back to that school where everyone thinks she fucked the math teacher. Her mom mentions in one of her calls that they might be moving away. She mentions California or Washington State. That her father might be landing a job in either San Francisco or Seattle. All up in the air.  

“…and then I went through this trip in my mind where he and I were fetuses. After opening my eyes I saw that we were coated in this kind of fleshy sack and when I broke free and fell on the floor it felt like I’d given birth to him and me. I had both pissed and puked all over myself. I started to panic and that’s when I realized that I had a serious problem.” Applause. Everybody always applauds except for her. “Suri? Are you sharing with us today?” Her silence says it all. Suri still has trouble with the idea of this so called circle of trust. Every single time she comes here there’s someone with some crazy story about running around naked or waking up next to an inflatable clown in the middle of a parking lot. They expect her to share and part of her wants to feed them some bullshit and be done with it. Maybe next time.

A palette of leaves crunch under her feet as Suri makes her way across the garden, trying to find a good place to hide and have a cigarette. Is not that hard to get one from other patients around here. It feels hot between her fingers as she takes a drag, smoke rolling off her tongue like melted sugar. It doesn’t take long for her to find a bench and sit down, closing her eyes to listen to other patients wandering by. “It’s not that bad you know?” She’s so lost in her own thoughts that she doesn’t notice him when he seats down beside her. “What?” Some guy from group. Her eyes recognize him but she doesn’t know his name. Sure she’d heard it at some point or another. Gelled hair and leather jacket; perfect white teeth and a gruff southern accent. “Group. Talking. It’s not that bad. I know it ain’t easy but it helps to get all of that shit out.” He offers a sympathetic gaze, but Suri doesn’t feel like talking or sharing. Not during group therapy. Not to Dr. Kearning. Not to this guy. She just wants to swallow that pain until it starts eating her insides.

“I wasn’t too keen with the idea of telling my story either when I first got here. Thought it wasn’t their business to know. It’s not about them. It’s about being able to express your pain with words instead of drowning them with vodka or … whatever it is you do.” She wants to tell him to fuck off but deep down she knows he has a point. She’s here because she’s addicted to drugs but her problem is deeper than that. If she’s going to get any better and really fix herself, then she needs to stop running away from her pain. “Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. Leave you to it. I’m Brad by the way.” The entire time he’s talking Suri just keeps her gaze towards the lake in front of her bringing her cigarette to her lips acting like she isn’t listening. Suri tosses the cigarette butt on the ground and crushes it under her sneaker. When he introduces himself she finally meets his eyes. Blue. They say blue eyes are the devil’s door. “Suri.” He smiles, showing her his pearly whites once again before getting to his feet. “I know.”

The day gets easier for a while, because really, that’s the only direction things can go in. She hits her lowest – the long, tear-filled hours that follow– and then start moving back up, up, up. Hit something. Fall. Get back up. Again, only one direction things can go in. There will be no making things too easy, too good, because that would spell disaster. Especially for her. She wouldn’t be able to take it a second time. Sometimes Suri thinks she has lived her whole life in a box.

[newsfundastuff]

Four people are in custody after 50 people were killed and 20 more were seriously injured in shootings at two mosques in the New Zealand city of Christchurch. New Zealand Police said there had been "multiple fatalities" following what they described as a "tragic series of events" in the Canterbury region on Friday. Follow this developing story live here What has happened in Christchurch? Officers first responded to reports of shots fired in central Christchurch at about 1.40pm local time (12.40am GMT).  Two shootings took place at two separate mosques in the city, one at Masjid Al Noor mosque on Deans Avenue and another at Masjid Mosque, Linwood Avenue. Police said they also defused a number of improvised explosive devices found on vehicles after the shootings. All schools and council buildings were put on lockdown and members of the public were told not to go outside. The lockdown has since been lifted.  Christchurch Mosque shootings Attack 'streamed live' New Zealand police have warned that "extremely distressing footage" exists relating to the shooting in Christchurch and have urged that it not be shared. A video reportedly streamed live on Facebook showed a gunman filming himself firing at worshipers inside the Al Noor mosque. Facebook later said they had removed the video and disabled the account.  The suspects Four people were taken into police custody following the attack. A white male dressed in camouflage, army-style clothing who identified himself as Brenton Tarrant filmed himself opening fire in the Al Noor mosque.  Twenty-eight-year-old Australian Brenton Harrison Tarrant appeared in court on Saturday charged with murder over the attack. Police said more charges would follow. Wearing handcuffs and a white prison shirt, the Australian-born former fitness instructor and self-professed fascist sat impassively as the judge read the charge against him. He did not request bail and was taken into custody until his next court appearance scheduled for April 5. New Zealand mosque massacre - In pictures Jacinda Ardern said: "This individual has travelled around the world with sporadic periods of time spent in New Zealand. "They were not a resident of Christchurch, in fact they were currently based in Dunedin at the time of this event. "Inquiries are ongoing to establish whether the other two who were arrested were directly involved with this incident. "The forth person who was arrested yesterday was a member of the public who was in possession of a firearm, but with the intention of assisting police. "They have since been released." Tarrant  left a 74-page anti-immigrant manifesto in which he explained who he was and his reasoning for his actions. He said he considered it a terrorist attack. Ms Ardern says the suspect held a Category A gun licence which enabled him to legally obtain semi-automatic weapons. She says the country's gun laws will change in the wake of the attack. A still image taken from video circulated on social media, apparently taken by a gunman and posted online live as the attack unfolded Credit: Reuters Tarrant said he was of Scottish, Irish and English stock and moved to New Zealand temporarily to plan and train and then stayed there after deciding to conduct the attack. “I have read the writings of Dylann Roof and many others, but only really took true inspiration from Knight Justiciar Breivik,” he wrote. Australian Prime Minister Scott Morrison said: "I can confirm that the individual who was taken into custody I have been advised is an Australian-born citizen," he told reporters in Sydney. "As family members with our New Zealand cousins today, we grieve, we are shocked, we are appalled, we are outraged, and we stand here and condemn absolutely the attack that occurred today by an extremist, right-wing, violent terrorist." Tarrant appeared in court on Saturday on one count of murder and is remanded until April 5. Brenton Tarrant, gestures as he is lead into the dock for his appearance for murder in the Christchurch District Court on March 16, 2019 in Christchurch, New Zealand Credit: Getty The victims New Zealand's Prime Minister has confirmed 49 people dead with another 20 seriously injured in today's attacks. Several of those killed or wounded in the shooting rampage were from the Middle East or South Asia, according to initial reports from several governments. Jacinda Ardern said her government was working with consular officials from countries including "Pakistan, Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Bangladesh, Indonesia and Malaysia," to deal with the aftermath of the attack. The Bangladesh cricket team was arriving for Friday prayers when the shooting occurred but all members were safe, a team coach said. Thirty-nine people remain in Christchurch Hospital, 11 of them in intensive care. Police and ambulance staff help a wounded man from outside a mosque in central Christchurch, New Zealand, Friday, March 15, 2019 Credit: Mark Baker/AP New Zealand's 'darkest day' A solemn New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern said Friday the deadly mosque shootings in Christchurch had plunged the country into one of its "darkest days". "Clearly, what has happened here is an extraordinary and unprecedented act of violence," Ardern said in an address to a shocked nation. "Many of those who will have been directly affected by this shooting may be migrants to New Zealand, they may even be refugees here," Ardern said. "They have chosen to make New Zealand their home, and it is their home. They are us. The person who has perpetuated this violence against us is not." "They should have been in a safe environment," she said. Terror in New Zealand | Read more Gun Law Ardern reiterated her promise that gun laws would change in New Zealand, and said the firearms used in the mosque shootings appear to have been modified. She said: "New Zealanders will question how someone can come into being in possession of weapons of this nature. "The guns used in this case appear to have been modified. That's a challenge police have been facing and a challenge we will look to address in changing laws." Sign up for your essential, twice-daily briefing from The Telegraph with our free Front Page newsletter.

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