#TV Woke Up From the American Dream

[ausetkmt]

The New York Times: In 2022, TV Woke Up From the American Dream

In the Peacock series “Killing It,” Brock (Scott MacArthur), an Everglades snake hunter and would-be YouTube influencer, gets shot in the face in an altercation over a sack of python eggs. It is the best thing that has ever happened to him.

The shooting leaves Brock minus one eye. But it’s captured on video, and the upload gets millions of views, giving him the lucrative viral success he’s wanted for years.

“American dream!” he says, beaming. “Getting shot in the face!”

On TV, 2022 has been the year of the American dream — with a catch. For many of the hustlers, entrepreneurs and strugglers onscreen, that aspiration still exists. But as Brock experienced, it can cost you an important part of yourself.

“Killing It,” created by Dan Goor and Luke Del Tredici of “Brooklyn Nine-Nine,” slipped under many TV watchers’ radar last spring, including, mea culpa, mine. In its first episode, it seems like a simple, wacky buddy comedy: Craig Foster (Craig Robinson), a Florida security guard with dreams of starting a prostate-supplement business, teams up with the ride-share driver Jillian Glopp (Claudia O’Doherty) in a contest to exterminate invasive pythons.

But as the season goes on, it becomes a broad, big-swinging satire of an adversarial economy that can seem to be booming and busting at the same time. (Tim Heidecker has a boisterous turn as a testosterone-pumped motivational speaker who preaches the philosophy of “Dominine,” which is one more than “dominate.”)

As Craig, Jillian and their opponents claw toward their prize, one foot of dead python at a time, they give us a tour of the hustler’s mirage, in which the promise of riches shimmers on the horizon, all yours if you only go to one more paid conference, pitch two more investors, take three more jobs.

The work experience of Jillian, an Australian immigrant, is especially bleak-comic. She drives an Uber that tows a mobile billboard (which doubles as her home), gets a TaskRabbit stint helping a rich woman (D’Arcy Carden) perpetrate a tax-fraud scheme and takes a job murdering birds at an airport, all with a heartbreakingly cheerful spirit of optimism.

The comedy is grotesque and blunt — Craig spends one episode with a dead snake nailed to his palm — but sneakily smart. In this hunt for the American dream, it says, every life form must find a lower life form to kill. And while the series is set in 2016, three years before the first stirrings of Covid, it feels pandemic-adjacent in its focus on the stratum of the work force for whom work is risky, physical and in-person. You cannot drive an Uber, or shoot a nail gun into a python’s skull, over Zoom.

The pandemic plays explicitly in Season 2 of Starz’s strip-club melodrama “P-Valley,” about a line of work that is defined by in-person interaction. The proprietor of the Pynk nightclub, Uncle Clifford (a resplendent Nicco Annan), who is nonbinary and uses she/her pronouns, spends much of the season sporting a bejeweled mask, enforcing 2020-era Covid protocols while trying to keep her business afloat at 50 percent capacity.

The Pynk is a magnet for dreams, and not only naughty ones. The “P-Valley” creator, the playwright Katori Hall, respects her pole dancers as artists and athletes, and she recognizes their work for what it is: a job that manifests the economy tangibly, translating desire into dollar bills flying in the air.

And because dancers age out so quickly, the job also renders the pressures of the economy in time-lapse: You have just a few years to rise up the pole before your tiring muscles pull you back down.

Every dancer enters the Pynk with an eye on something else — a showbiz life, a business career, or simply escape — but one of the most affecting journeys of Season 2 belongs to Mercedes (Brandee Evans), who comes to realize that she has reached retirement age without having figured out her next step. “You’re just going to have to learn how to dream new dreams,” Uncle Clifford tells her. That’s the price of dreaming: You can’t afford to wake up.

The summer’s surprise buzz phenomenon, FX on Hulu’s “The Bear,” focused on the pressures of a different sort of service industry. Carmy (Jeremy Allen White), a high-end restaurant chef, comes home to run his family’s struggling Chicago sandwich joint after his drug-addicted brother’s suicide. The pandemic isn’t a factor in the story. But the show’s depiction of work as a kind of barely restrained combat (which sometimes boils over into actual combat) feels like a bespoke fit for the post-reopening economy of labor shortages and supply chain issues.

The memorable, high-decibel work sequences make “The Bear” look and sound like a war story that happens to take place in a kitchen. Work here is furious, violent and relentless. Flames roar up the sides of pans, pots clatter like artillery, slabs of beef are dragged and hoisted like casualties. Hands are burned, fingers slashed; the pace of the prep rush turns the kitchen staff into sweating, shouting bodies, meat cooking meat.

All the while, Carmy flashes back to memories of being mocked and belittled by his Michelin-starred boss in the restaurant where he used to work. At times, you wonder why he chooses to stick with this job that often makes him so unhappy. In the season finale, reminiscing about his brother at an Al-Anon meeting, he seems to hit on an answer: Sometimes our dreams are not ours alone, nor are they even our choice. “Me trying to fix the restaurant was me trying to fix whatever was happening with my brother,” he says. “And, I don’t know, maybe fix the whole family.”

In politics, “the American dream” has long been used aspirationally, to evoke family and home. But as my colleague Jazmine Ulloa detailed earlier this year, the phrase has also lately been used ominously, especially by conservative politicians, to describe a certain way of life in danger of being stolen by outsiders.

The typical counterargument, both in politics and pop culture, has been that immigrants pursuing their ambitions help to strengthen all of America. (The Dream Act has its name for a reason.) But some recent stories have complicated this idea by questioning whether the dream itself — or, at least, defining that dream in mostly material terms — can be toxic.

The third season of Hulu’s “Ramy,” starring the comedian Ramy Youssef as a rudderless young Muslim from an immigrant family, takes on the theme directly. The title character’s parents, Maysa (Hiam Abbass) and Farouk (Amr Waked), have found prosperity tantalizingly out of reach, signing up with ride-share and grocery-delivery apps in their middle age.

Maysa has grown resigned, but Farouk remains in a poignant unrequited love affair with the dream. He chases real-estate deals; he gins up a hapless business selling ad space on takeout containers; he fantasizes about appearing on “Shark Tank.” (Ramy, meanwhile, has hit it big in the jewelry business, having partnered with some contacts in Israel, but finds himself more spiritually adrift than ever.)

In the season’s final episode, Maysa and Farouk, having come across a stash of hallucinogenic mushrooms, reminisce about their early days in the country when they would feed Ramy and his sister hot dogs, not knowing they contained pork. Stoned, they make a run to buy convenience-store franks, bite into the seductive, non-halal treats and realize that they taste disgusting. “Why did we sell our souls?” Farouk asks. “We gave it all up for hot dogs.”

Most recently, Hulu’s “Welcome to Chippendales” — about another kind of commercialized American meat — reconsiders the immigrant dream from the vantage of success. The story of Somen Banerjee (Kumail Nanjiani), the founder of the male-stripper empire, it is in many ways of a piece with this year’s glut of scam-and-scandal docudramas; it’s a rise-and-fall series in which the fall is less interesting and takes twice as long. (The creator, Robert Siegel, gave us the prosthetic fantasia “Pam & Tommy” earlier this year.)

The series stands apart, though, for showing how Banerjee, born in India, uses a learned idea of American appetites to pursue a received idea of the American dream. In some ways, being an outsider makes his success possible — much in America is novel to him, so he’s receptive to new ideas (like seminude dancers in bow ties).

But his embrace of Americanness (for instance, he goes by “Steve” rather than “Somen”) cuts two ways. He experiences racism before and after he hits it big, but he also uses discrimination as a business tactic, ending up in court because of a scheme to bar Black patrons (whom, he concludes from experience, will make white customers see his club as less “classy”).

Banerjee has perhaps internalized the American dream too thoroughly. He gets his first intimation of this when he returns to India for his father’s funeral, his suitcase stuffed with gifts of electronics and Velveeta, hoping to be welcomed as a conquering success. Instead, his mother scolds him for leaving the family printing business to run a fleshpot. “We are middle-class people, Somen,” she says. “We did not need saving by America.”

He leaves, weighed down with rejection and processed cheese. Beyond his mother’s personal disappointment is the verdict that he has stopped being himself, but in the process he has not really become a new person either. He is simply a reflection of another culture’s artifice, an imitation of an imitation.

This is the danger of the American dream when you scale it down from the national to the individual level. You risk devoting your life to wanting something because it’s what you’ve been told you should want. Everybody loves a Cinderella story, but sometimes your dream, in reality, is just a wish somebody else’s heart made.

and Women started directly responding to bs,

whoooooops, guess that blew his wig uhhhruh back

yeahhh..

[littlegrapejuice]

Saved his life | LS2

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

Summary: You come to check on Logan after qualifying at the Dutch GP, hoping to lift his spirits.

Author's Note: ok so this literally came to me in a dream😭 logan's replacement was announced on tuesday (still crying about it btw) and istg i woke up wednesday morning after having lived this plot during my sleep

You had been seeking him out after FP3, and were once again seeking him out after qualifying. Logan was nowhere to be found and you worried about the state he mentally was in since his crash. The backlash from his team as well as journalists had blown out of proportion, for they were all focusing on the damages suffered by the car before considering the health of the driver.

Similar to you, Logan's fans were doing their best to support him and wondered about how he was doing. You had seen many comments online about people complaining that neither Williams - as in James Vowles - nor commentators had expressed an interest in the well-being of the driver, only talking about ruining a newly upgraded car - which would be proven illegal later on.

Scouring the paddock, you were now going from garage to garage looking for Logan. Obviously, you had first gone to the Williams one but without any success in finding the American. You hadn't even known at first if he was actually at the track, but a quick shot of him on the TV screen had confirmed you that he was indeed in his garage.

This is why as soon as qualifying ended, you had waited for George to come back to the Mercedes garage so that you could notify him that you were leaving for the time being. You had plans together later tonight, meaning that he didn't mind you doing whatever you wanted until then.

And that's thus how you were still walking around the paddock, praying that it wouldn't take much longer to find Logan.

As you then thought you had seen him from afar, someone obviously had to come up to you and stop you in your tracks. You turned around at the tap on your shoulder and was met with a blonde driver, but not quite the one you would've rather faced.

"Hi Max," you said with a smile.

"Hey, you alright?" He asked both because he was genuinely interested in your answer and because he couldn't help but notice you frantically looking around.

"Yeah, I'm good! Congrats on P2, that's great at your home race." You gave a last glance to the side and decided to temporarily abort your mission as you had unfortunately lost sight of who you thought had been Logan.

"Thanks, I wish I could've gotten pole but I'll get the first place from turn one so that's alright."

"I'll be internally rooting for you, but you know I'll have to stick to my roots and publicly support my team."

"Of course," Max replied. "The Red Bull garage is always open if you ever feel like changing your mind. We also probably have better food than Mercedes." He let out a smile at your laugh before scratching his throat, as if he was thinking about his next words. "Listen, I-"

"Sorry Max," you apologised as you checked your watch and got afraid you would miss logan leaving the track. "I'd love to talk more with you but I was on the way to do something important so please make it quick."

"Yeah, hmm... did you have the chance to visit the city and its surroundings? I was thinking that..." Max hesitated before he saw you nodding at him, silently telling him to continue. "We could grab a drink or some food later on, and I can show you around? Seeing as this is my home country, I'm pretty familiar with it so I could give you a proper tour and you'd see things that you would never see with a regular tour guide and-"

"Sounds lovely yeah!" You felt pretty bad for interrupting him once again, but the clock was really ticking and you were getting more nervous. "I already have something planned for tonight though, so maybe another day?"

"Well, there's only tomorrow left then. After the race?" He suggested with hope in his tone.

"I'll get back to you on that. Depending on who's winning, I might be celebrating someone else you know."

"Of course, but I'm pretty confident that I can score another victory here."

"Great, then that's settled! Super cool to chat with you Max, I'll see you later." You waved at him and quickly started walking again to the direction you had last seen Logan several minutes ago.

You were gone so fast that you hadn't even heard Max telling you that he would text you his request again, as he had sensed that your focus had been on all but your exchange with him. You liked Max to be honest; he was a really sweet guy and could easily match your energy as a fellow yapper. However, he had chosen the worst moment to strike up a conversation with you. Thinking about how you could repay it to him next time you'd see him - probably tomorrow, all your stress was going away as you finally found the person you were looking for.

You stopped close enough to him that he would notice you, but a few metres away so that you had time to catch your breath without it being too obvious that you had been almost running around for him.

As he called out your name, you couldn't help the smile that lit up your face.

"You're good?"

"I am now, thanks. Been searching for you, you know? You're quite hard to find," you told him in complete honesty with a light laugh.

"Really?" Logan was surprised by your words. He hadn't expected anyone to come talk to him today, except for his teammate Alex or a couple drivers texting him for a check up.

"Yeah," you nodded. "I couldn't see you after practice earlier and I thought talking to you face to face was better than a text so yes, I was looking for you."

If you and Logan weren't surrounded by hundreds of people, he would definitely shed a tear at your kindness - not like anyone was actually paying attention to the both of you as you were on the side of the path. He didn't think a headline consisting of F1 Driver Logan Sargeant seen crying while talking with F1 Driver George Russel's long-time friend was a good idea though.

"And you wanted to talk to me about something important?" He wondered.

"That's what I said", you replied. "I wanted to talk to you, about you, I guess."

"That's not super-"

"It is," you immediately interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. You knew what he was about to say and you were definitely not letting him give voice to his thoughts. Seeing as he was still taken aback by your words, you kept going. "You're important, Logan. More than a random chassis, or an engine, or whatever they put in the shit car that they make you drive."

Hearing your own sentence, you were about to apologise for the strong opinion - Logan was driving said car so you didn't know if you were right to comment on it - but the chuckle that came from the American stopped you from doing so. It didn't last long as Logan quickly covered his mouth, thus shutting down the sound, but you suddenly wished you could hear it again.

And not because you're trash talking his team, but because you're, let's say, watching a movie together and a funny scene comes up; or because you're walking around a park and he laughs at your clumsiness when you almost trip on a random rock.

You just wished, right now, that you weren't at the track, in this paddock, with all those cars and people around. You just wanted to be with him, in a quiet place where you could just enjoy each other's presence without having to worry about a team principal that didn't take his driver's needs into account or about journalists that couldn't seem to see the human aspect of a driver behind the suit and helmet.

Your thoughts were however soon interrupted when a hand appeared in front of your face.

"Hello? Earth to whatever planet you're on?" Logan had a smile on his face. He wasn't laughing anymore but he didn't seem annoyed either at your silence. "Did you get lost in your mind?"

"Possibly", you answered with a nervous laugh. "Sorry, won't happen again."

"It's fine, don't worry."

You could see Logan was genuine in his eyes. The way they were being lit up by the sun suddenly made you wonder about what was hidden behind it. They often say that eyes are the mirror of the soul; but for now, you could only see yourself in Logan's.

"Hey Logan," you said after a few seconds of silence. He glanced down at you, which you took as a sign to continue. "Do you wanna hang out with me tonight? I- hmm I have this dinner with George, Lando, Alex, and their girls. And it could be nice of you to join. I mean, if you want to of course, and if you don't have anything planned already but yeah, that'd be cool. I'd like that."

When Logan didn't reply, you started to think that it was over and that your stress was so obvious, and that he wasn't going to accept the offer. But then:

"I'd love to." Your gaze was now filled with hope, until the next words left Logan's mouth. "But I think I need to be alone tonight. It's absolutely not against you or the others, but today hasn't been the best day for me as you obviously know and even though it could lighten up my mood, I'd rather focus on tomorrow's race."

"Oh, hmm... okay, yeah... I totally get it, no problem."

Logan was not dumb; he noticed your immediate change of attitude as you lowered your gaze, so he decided to add on to his explanation:

"It's just a raincheck, you know? I'm not going out tonight, but I'd absolutely be down for another day if we both find the time. Sounds good?"

"Yeah!" You nodded with a smile. "Raincheck, okay, got it."

"Sorry to cut this short, but I gotta go for now." Logan gave you a smile before checking his phone. "I'll get back to you for a hang out, but thanks for taking the time to talk with me. I truly appreciate it."

"It's normal, we're friends so... I wasn't really thinking twice about it."

"Then thank you for that as well. We'll see each other later, right?"

"Of course," you confirmed. "Race's tomorrow so at least then, goodbye for now Logan."

"Bye, take care."

He gave you a quick hug before departing, and next thing you knew, he was gone. You then turned around, ready to exit the paddock and go back to your hotel, so that you could get ready for your dinner tonight with your friends.

.....

"George, hey!" You called out to him as you saw him from afar. "Thanks for waiting, sorry I'm a little late."

"No problem," he replied. "I sent Alex and the girls inside to keep us a table. We're just missing Lando, but I think he'll be here soon."

As if on cue, you had received a text. Thinking it was from the curly haired man, you opened it in front of George before reading the sender and the content of the message.

Hi! Regarding our conversation from earlier, I decided to formally ask if you wanted to grab dinner with me tomorrow night after the race?

A smile unknowingly took place on your face, and George couldn't help but notice it.

"What's got you all happy?" He asked before adding a comment. "You're even blushing so I guess this is not Lando."

"It's no one," you said as you immediately locked your phone before George could look at the screen. "Just a friend I'm supposed to catch up with tomorrow."

"You have friends other than us in the Netherlands right now?" A familiar voice questioned from behind you.

"Lando!" George exclaimed as the last of your group was finally here. "Hey mate. Congrats on pole. Good quali you did there."

"Thanks man." Lando glanced at you while the three of you started walking inside the hotel, towards the restaurant. "So what's this about a friend of yours?"

"Drop it Lando," you replied, annoyed - although you could truly never be annoyed with him. "I'll tell you all about it when it's over if you still wanna know after the weekend."

"Of course I will! I'll even bring that up in the groupchat so you'll have to tell this wonderful and absolutely not suspicious story to everyone," Lando laughed as he nudged your side.

Thankfully, neither George nor Lando had brought up the topic with the others, even though they were still curious on what you were hiding. You were glad that they didn't because how could you even explain to them that you would be going out to dinner with a fellow driver? You honestly didn't think they would mind, but you also didn't want them to go and bother said driver when you knew that the paddock's walls had ears everywhere.

Hoping that it would be fine to reply to the text later, you had therefore waited until you were back in your hotel room to agree to the offer. Tonight's dinner had been amazing and you were always happy to spend time with your friends whom you didn't see much, but tomorrow's would be something even more special as it would actually be your first time hanging out one on one with the driver you were maybe fancying.

Before forgetting, you also decided to notify your friends of your plans - omitting the driver aspect of the 'friend' you would be seeing after the race - so that they wouldn't be surprised to not see you attend any celebration. Of course you would try and spend some time with the winner if he was part of your friend group, but at least you were in the clear to not go party all night with them.

.....

And you had never once regretted not attending the party that had celebrated Lando's win at the Dutch Grand Prix. He had told you that day after the race that you would have a myriad of other chances to attend another one as he was planning on winning more and more often - which he did.

Tonight's party, however, would be in your honour. As well as Logan's. And you couldn't see yourself anywhere else than here, in front of him. You truly didn't think you would one day end up in this situation, and neither did he. Logan hadn't really expected to experience such an event in his life, but he eventually did, all thanks to you.

You had saved his life. That day, when you reached out to him after qualifying, was unknowingly a turning point in his life. He had been at his lowest. He had known what would certainly happen following the Grand Prix; he had been expecting to be let go after the disastrous performances he was giving.

Knowing didn't make it less painful though.

He did get dropped by his team, Williams, which you cursed for as long as you could and still did from time to time. And even if Logan had achieved being a Formula One driver - which no one could ever take away from him, he had still felt like he was worthless after it happened.

He hadn't known how to process the sudden end of his short time on the grid and felt lost for a while, wondering about what would define him as a person now that the dream he'd had since he was a child was over.

But you had made him believe that it wasn't the end of the world and that something else was waiting for him. He could've ended it all, but you showed him a glimmer of hope and he chose to keep going, see what else was in store for him. He still had a future. And he had been right to trust you, as he was now here, facing you and about to be making you his. Only two words left to say before doing so.

'Thank you', he mouthed to you before the long-awaited sentence was to be heard out loud. "I do", he then confirmed without tearing his gaze away from your face.

..........

Okayyyy so this it lol

Hope y'all liked it🫶🏻 this was my 1st time ever writing for a driver since i got into motorsports and I feel really happy w it!! Thanks to my brain for making me dream ab logan, i think it kinda helps me cope regarding him not being the grid anymore (i miss him sm chat)

Idk when I'll write again for a driver if i ever do so, but don't hesitate to give feedback on this so that ik how to approach a future work🤍

[lovelytsunoda]

purple haze // charles leclerc

summary: writing a novel is a long an arduous process. luckily for y/n, she has a very supportive partner in crime, and when it all works out, he's the only person she would want by her side.

pairing: charles leclerc x author reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, talk of deadlines, book referenced is a good girls guide to murder by holly jackson. gets a lil steamy towards the middle but nothing comes of it. still not sure how i feel about this one, but i havent written for charles in forever and i got an idea i really liked but i don't know if it worked out when i put it on paper.

by the time y/n closed her laptop, she felt like her fingers were going to fall off. she leaned back in her desk chair, gutted to find that the monaco cityscape outside her living room window was now pitch black, as might had fallen on the city.

her first book had been a red-wine and oasis fuelled fever dream, the last three chapters being written to ‘don’t look back in anger’. and now, the final edits were done.

“I’m so proud of you, mon tresor.” charles gushed, bringing her another glass of wine.

“the last three years are finally paying off. a good girls guide to murder is done, and the world is ready to meet pippa and ravi.” she grinned, clinking her glass against her boyfriends.

she had poured three years of her life into that book, and Charles had been by her side for all of it. through numerous rejections, edits and late night idea-vomit, nobody was prouder than charles was so see it work out for her.

and now he knew she needed a break.

taking her hand in his, he gently dragged her out of the desk chair and towards the couch, placing their wineglasses on the coffee table as he urged y/n to sit on the ground between his legs.

his hands were warm as he began to massage her shoulders, attempting to release the tension caused by the last round of edits, which she had worked on almost from sunup to sundown.

“there’s still so much to do.” she whined, tilting her head back to look up at her lover. “now there’s arcs and extra promotions and finding advance reviewers and-“

charles cut her off with a kiss. “none of that right now. right now, you and me are going to finish this bottle of wine and watch something pointless on tv.”

smiling to herself, y/n got up from the floor and moved to the leather couch, slipping seamlessly into charles' lap and nestling against his chest. his body was warm, and his sweater soft. even if his cologne was a little bit too strong, he made her feel safe. treasured.

"that sounds perfect." she hummed, gently turning his face so she could kiss him. "thank you for supporting me."

"always, my love." charles smiled before kissing her again.

SIX MONTHS LATER

it was half past five in the morning when the phone rang. charles could sleep through just about anything, but it was the vibrations of the phone against her side table that woke y/n.

she looked over at her sleeping lover, pressing a gentle kiss to the smooth skin on his shoulder blades before slipping out of bed and creeping into the hallway to answer a call from her agent, cecelia.

"cece, its five in the morning. couldn't this have waited?"

ceclia cleared her throat. "i've just heard from the american office. the preliminary numbers for the new york times list are in."

"fuck. how did we do?" she closed her eyes, holding up her crossed fingers and praying to every god she wasn't sure she believed in.

and when cecelia spoke again, she almost dropped her phone.

"okay. thank you for letting me know, cece."

she slipped back into the bedroom, bare, dry feet sinking into the plush carpet at the end of the bed before she sat down at the end of the bed, gripping the phone so tightly that her knuckles had gone white.

"mon amour." charles rasped, exhaustion in his voice as he rolled over onto his back. "what's wrong?"

"i just got a call from cecelia." she started, trying not to let her emotions show through. "she's just been on the phone with our american agent with the new york times numbers."

charles sat up, one of his warm hands going to rest on her thigh. "and?' he asked hesitantly, his piercing eyes meeting her uncertain ones in the dark.

"i made the top ten." she shouted, grin spreading all across her features.

making the new york times list had made everything worth it. all the sleepless nights when she had woken up with an idea she was scared to lose, all the rewrites, the weeks of writers block. the rejections, the aggravation, the insecurity.

this was it.

she had done it.

"i'm so proud of you." charles beamed, folding her into a hug. "i knew you could do it, my brilliant girl."

she dropped her phone on the bed, red-faced and giggly as she kissed him, allowing her hands to wander across his toned chest. "wanna show me just how much?"

THREE YEARS LATER

the theater was almost silent when the lights came up, the end credits of the final episode fading out on the screen. she held her breath, fingers gripping charles' hand so tightly that she thought she might break the fragile bones in her husband's fingers.

oh, yeah. they had gotten married about a year after her book had come out, while she was in the middle of writing as good as dead, the conclusion to the series.

since a good girls guide to murder had come out, her life had changed for the better. she felt more secure in herself and her talent, and the words had never come easier when she started writing the sequel, eager ton continue the story. she had since written two more books to complete the trilogy, as well as two standalone novels: five survive and the reappearance of rachel price. around the time that rachel price was announced, she had gotten another call from cecelia, asking if she and charles could come to london and meet with representatives from the bbc.

they wanted to turn her first book into a tv series.

she had been hands on from the beginning, throwing herself into her work and doing her best to make sure that the version of the story the readers saw on screen was the version that she had visualized when she'd first explained the storyboard to charles, the driver helping her connect everything on their living room wall with red yarn.

and now was the time. the time to see if it had all paid off. the theater was filled with minor celebrities, influencers, and the tiktokers who had made her book blow up in popularity.

it all came down this night.

"it's okay. whatever happens, you know you did your best." charles whispered in her ear, running one hand up and down her bare back. underneath the flimsy straps of her red dress.

she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath when the roar off applause began to drown her.

she rode the rush of emotions, allowing the tears of gratification and relief to ruin her mascara as she let her body go slack, resting against charles as she watched the room rise in a standing ovation for pippa and ravi.

"we did it. we made it, charles." she laughed, tilting her head up to kiss him.

"no, cherie. you did this. they're all here for you."

she watched as the event's host, a former spice girl that charles knew through his paddock connections, stepped out into the middle of the small stage set up at the front of the theater.

"and now, the moment i'm sure you've all been waiting for, a few words from y/n /y/l/n-leclerc!"

she wiped her eyes and fixed her hair, taking a deep breath before she walked across the stage, taking the microphone from geri halliwell, and turning to face the crowd.

in the front row, there was charles. her one true love. her biggest supporter.

and in that moment, she truly allowed herself to believe that she had made it.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 2 - A New Kind of Tension

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Chapter title from American Idiot by Green Day.

Word Count: 5.8k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Soldier Boy is woken up, and you have to deal with the pitfalls of your idea. Contains usual tags.

Read on A03!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3

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When he was forced into this type of sleep, Ben didn’t dream. This type of sleep was more like death, with no part of him alive in any way that mattered. But in the few seconds before he woke, with chemicals leaving his system and consciousness returning, he felt pain.

Borderline unbearable, exhaustive and consuming pain. The last few times he had been woken up, the pain had made the bomb in his chest start to tick, tick, tick, building up and up, off the beat from his heart until they found a rhythm, and he would explode.

It never relieved all that pain, but fuck him if it wasn’t cathartic.

Every time he had woken up in Russia, he’d fought the scientists like a fucking animal. When that assfuck, traitorous Brit and his cum guzzling team had found him, Ben hadn’t hesitated to use teeth and fire, hellbent on getting out, on getting home. This time wasn’t any different, the beat in his chest was already banging against his ribs, save for the stark exception of his surroundings.

He wasn’t in a clean lab or disgusting tube. He was in a suburban living room, complete with potted plants, one of those new and weirdly flat TVs, and some of the most boring paintings of roses he had ever fucking seen. Not a single person was in sight, no tubes were hooked to his body, and no cannon barrels or gas-filled vents sat in his vision. A small part of him hesitated, wondering if he was suddenly dreaming, his body having adapted to fight back and allow him some hazy peace. But the fever in his chest was growing, and there was no goddamn world where he would ever find suburbia and floral-patterned carpets peaceful. No, this was someone’s attempt to trick him, to make him compliant. Maybe Vought, maybe the Reds, maybe the CIA, didn’t matter. They all died the same.

The nuclear explosion from his chest lit the room, tearing out of him with a rush. Ben braced himself for bullets and grenades as his captors realized their little plan had failed, but none came. And as the dust cleared, he realized that not only were there no soldiers dropping from the sky or weapons hurling at his body, but everything was… exactly the same. Well, the plants had been burnt to a crisp, but that was the only evidence of his power having ripped through the room. The TV was still smooth and clean, the sofa hadn’t moved an inch, and the paintings hung evenly on the walls.

What the fuck.

He paused, the drum in his chest having stilled, and listened. Bird song, running water below the floor, electrical hums through the walls, and…

There it was.

Heartbeats.

Five heartbeats. All sped up, all bouncing around in the chests of their owners. Three moved heavily and quickly, one rapid and staggered—that one reeked of terror—and one beat only a single mark off from steady, almost as if it were devoid of any fear. Interesting.

Ben searched the room for a camera, but settled on looking in the direction of the heartbeats.

“I know you’re there,” he drawled. “I can fuckin hear you. Come out, you pussies.”

There was a pause, all five heartbeats having stuttered at his words, before a door creaked down the dark, sconce lined halls, and footsteps sounded towards him.

The people who stepped from the shadows into the living room should thank the Lord that Ben didn’t kill them the moment they were in the light. Grace Mallory, the thin-lipped bitch, watched him wearily, with the backstabbing Billy Butcher to her left. Only a step behind them was the blonde broad that had blasted him in the face at Vought Tower, accompanied by her and Butcher’s gangly cocksucker. The only one he didn’t recognize stood at the very front, a woman who was looking at him with sharp eyes, arms crossed in front of her body and legs planted apart. This was the holder of the steady heart, unsurprisingly given her collected stance and cold gaze. It was almost amusing, the way she was looking at him, like she was a lion and he was a gazelle, like if she glared her lovely eyes at Ben enough, he might drop dead. But he turned his eyes from her tiny fury to Butcher and Mallory, giving them a smirk that made his murderous intentions clear.

“What the fuck is this?”

It was Butcher who answered, returning the false smile. “This is an intervention, mate. You have a problem, and we’re here to help.”

“The only problem I have is you. If you had half a brain, you’d start running.”

“Really? Because to me,” Butcher’s smile didn’t falter as he gestured around the room. “It seems like you’re having some performance issues.”

“Don’t make him angry,” the cocksucker mumbled from the back. Butcher only rolled his eyes in response.

“This, Soldier Boy, is an opportunity. We’re giving you a second chance to help us with Homelander.” Mallory said, watching Ben carefully.

“A second chance?” It was Ben’s turn to roll his eyes. “You should be grateful that I might not kill you all when I leave.”

“I’d start playing nice, Soldier Boy.” The blonde stepped forward with a scowl. “You don’t have the upper hand here."

"Oh, please, you blast me down once and think you’re some sort of god? You caught me off guard that time, doll. This time, you won’t be so lucky.”

Blondie opened her mouth to retaliate, but Butcher snorted first, a newer, more twisted grin on his face.

“Starlight’s no god, but she is,” Butcher nudged the steady-hearted newcomer forward. “Meet your new babysitter. Go on, Love, say hello.”

The woman stumbled slightly at the push, her already strong frown deepening, and had barely turned her anger to Butcher when Ben started to laugh. All eyes fell to him as he gave a loud snort of amusement, a broad grin on his face.

“Jesus,” he wheezed. “Didn’t think you were funny, Butcher, but that’s a fucking riot.”

“We’re being serious,” Starlight snapped. “You answer to her now.”

“Yeah,” Ben rolled his eyes, giving his alleged keeper a once over. “Sure. Sunshine over here is going to stop me from ripping all your heads off your bodies. Fuck, she won’t even stop me leaving this room.”

“Wanna bet?”

Ben paused as the woman spoke for the first time. It wasn’t just her heartbeat that was level and even. Her voice was smooth, unbreaking and calm with not a trace of anxiety. Her eyes were still watching him coldly, her pretty face set like a mask.

“Excuse me?”

“Would you like to bet that I can’t stop you?” She repeated slowly, as if he were a child.  “I’d advise you not to, but I don’t think you’d care for my opinion.”

“You think you can stop me, Sunshine? Are you fucking stupid?”

“No, but I don’t think my intelligence matters here. You’re not walking out that door.”

Part of Ben wanted to start laughing again. At her blatant lack of self-preservation to go up against him and not flinch. At her smooth claim of intelligence but painfully clear lack of understanding about the situation she was in. At her companions, who had all stepped back, undoubtedly realizing that their gambit had failed and leaving her in his line of fire.

Part of him wanted to be quick and brutal, make her an example before he left. But it wasn’t worth it, and her face was too nice to ruin, so he settled to just walk past her. He’d kill Butcher on his way out and figure out what he wanted to do from there.

He only had to take three long strides to reach the hall, making to just move past the woman, but she side-stepped, blocking his path. Ben looked down at her, finding his amusement at her misguided boldness fading into annoyance.

“Move, Sunshine. I’ll only ask once.”

She met his glare, no break in her resolve. “I’d say the same to you, Grampa.”

“I’m warning you. I’m not above hitting a lady.”

“I thought you were only going to ask once.”

That was it. Ben moved to grab her, to shove her aside and end her pointless little charade. He didn’t have time for her frivolous, self-indulgent bullshit, he had tried to warn her, and at this point her blood was really just on her own hands.

It happened fast. He reached to push her, she didn’t flinch, her face looking almost bored as Ben lunged, and his hand had barely landed on her arm before he let go, recoiling from her with a roar.

“What the fuck!” He looked at his hand, now raw and red, with blisters fading as soon as they had formed. His gaze shot to the woman’s unbothered face, she herself having neither flinched nor wavered. “Did you just fucking burn me?”

“I warned you,” she said. “I don’t play games I can’t win.”

Ben looked past her, where the small group remained, having retreated down the hall. Butcher’s face was painted with deep amusement as Starlight and Mallory held twin looks of satisfaction. Only the cocksucker still looked afraid, but his nervous eyes were trained on the woman, as though she might blow to pieces at any second.

“Somebody better start talking,” Ben growled.

“We tried to tell you, Governor,” Butcher said with an overly dramatic sigh. “She’s in charge here.”

“You think this will hold me? I-“

“You were unprepared, we got lucky, it won’t happen again. We all heard the speech you gave Annie.” The woman cut him off with a snort. “You need to start getting it into your head. You do not have the upper hand. The sooner you do, the sooner we can actually do something productive instead of peacocking like idiots.”

Ben stared at her, the drum in his chest growing loud once more, his anger serving as fuel. He didn’t bother to try and control it, simply letting it set to his heart and build and build. Just before the sound could drown out all his other senses, he heard the woman yell.

“Everyone out!” Her voice was slightly alarmed, but laced with no panic. And as the door slammed down the hall, Ben realized her heartbeat hadn’t retreated. She was still right in front of him. He hoped this hurt.

As the smoke cleared, Ben opened his eyes to, tragically and annoyingly, see the woman completely intact, unbothered, and in one piece. Most he could tell, she had only taken a step back.

“Are you done?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Bitch,” he said. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“Lovely,” she sighed. “You just tried that. Didn’t work. Won’t work. Not on me. Like I said before you started acting like a toddler, the sooner you accept that, the sooner we can help each other.”

“How could you possibly help me?”

She grinned. “I’m so glad you asked. Hughie! You’re up!”

The skinny little coward appeared over her shoulder, anxiety painted over his face. “Can’t Mallory or Butcher do this?”

“Nah, Mallory has a powerful resting-hater-face, and Butcher would get himself killed all over me, which would be gross. I don’t need that right now.”

The cocksucker pouted. “Annie?”

“No, I don’t think he’s her biggest fan, especially after the whole tower thing-“

“Stop talking about me like I’m not right fucking here,” Ben cut in.

“Fine, you baby. Hughie,” the woman nudged Cocksucker forward. “Give him the pitch.”

Ben didn’t listen to Cocksucker as he rambled, catching only the beginning and electing to ignore him once the words “article B-55XP2 allows” were said. Instead, he focused on the woman, whose brow was furrowed as she listened to her companion talk. Small tendrils of smoke were rising from her body, and Ben noted the way Cocksucker stood off to the side, attempting to somehow paradoxically hold and elude both Ben’s and the woman’s attention. Her lips were in a tight line now, and she was hugging herself slightly, curving into her own body. The smoke from her had begun to choke the room, and though Ben could hear her level heartbeat, he could also hear her gnaw on her lower lip and the tap of her foot on the floor. When her gaze abruptly slid to his, Ben held it unblinkingly, and the crease in her brow only deepened.

Before Ben could figure out what sat behind her sharp eyes, Cocksucker let out a cough and said a name that made the woman turn.

“Can you turn it down, please?”

“Oh, shit. Sorry, Hughie,” she mumbled, taking another step back as Cocksucker gave a nod of thanks.

“So the big thing to know…” Once again, Ben didn’t hear whatever it was being said. No, he was now fully staring at the woman, her name playing in his head. It wasn’t a supe name, like how Butcher had referred to Blondie. Almost every supe Ben had known preferred being called by their fancy little brand name, but he hadn’t even learned if this bitch had one. Fuck, he hadn’t even heard of her. Last time he had been introduced to a large number of new players, most of them weak, whining pussies with pathetic powers, but this woman was far from pathetic. He hadn’t heard anything about a fire-supe, let alone a doll faced, angry, bitchy one who had to have the resting heart rate of a whale. He bet he could pick it up to match the Cocksuckers, if he really tried. He bet he could make her scream, maybe from being ripped limb from limb, maybe from cumming her brains out all over him. A smirk started to grow on his face as he imagined it, her ice-queen demeanor crumbling from his irresistible charm-

“Are you fucking listening?” The woman herself broke him from his thoughts, her fingers snapping in his face.

“No,” Ben sneered. “Why should I?”

“Well, if you’d pay Hughie half the attention you seem to be paying to my tits, you’d be able to answer your own dumb question.”

“Don’t fucking flatter yourself-“

“Please, I’ve been told you stick your dick in anything with a hole.” She cut him off again, an action that, if she kept it up, would result in her being punched. “Tell you what, I’ll get you a real nice watermelon to play with if you just fucking listen.”

“Fine.”

She paused, but was thrown for only a second. “Ok, great, Hughie-“

“But you do the talking.”

She almost snorted. “Are you that fucking crow-brained that you can’t listen unless it’s something shiny?” She paused. “Sorry Hughie. No offense, you’re plenty shiny.”

The Cocksucker, Ben knew his name was Hughie at this point but couldn’t find himself fucked to use it, just shrugged. “No offense taken.” His attention shifted back to Ben. “Will you really listen if she talks?”

“She talks like a person. You talk like a boring army manual.”

“Could’ve just said book,” Cocksucker said with a frown, but stepped back nonetheless.

“This is fucking stupid,” the woman said with a glare that was somehow stronger than before.

“You wanted me to listen to your stupid little sales pitch, Sunshine. This is what will make me listen.”

She rolled her eyes further back than Ben had ever seen before, but started to speak, her voice dripping with contempt.

“Here’s the deal. You help us with our Homelander problem, we give you immunity for all the definite war crimes you’ve committed and keep you from being Sleeping Beauty for a third time. You’ll stay here, with me, until we have a clear and safe shot at Homelander. You’ll do your little Oppenheimer magic trick, and we’ll take care of the rest. After Homelander's dead, you’ll be free to leave America for good, and live out your shitty immortal life on some stupid island where no one knows who you are.” As she came to the end of her speech, Ben grinned at her.

“See? Wasn’t so hard.”

She didn’t even blink. “Any questions?”

“Questions? Nah. But you should know, this is fucking stupid, and I’m not participating in it. All I’ll get is a vacation, and I could have that right fucking now.”

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you can’t leave this room, let alone go on vacation. And I’d say what you’d ‘get’,” she used air quotes, and Ben wondered if he could throw her out a window. “Is us not knocking you out right now.”

“Also immunity,” Cocksucker piped up.

She nodded. “Also immunity. We’re offering you this once.” She gave him a sickly-sweet smile. “Act now and we’ll throw in a second watermelon.”

“I’ll fucking break out.” Ben snarled.

“Take your best shot. This safe house is more durable than a cold-war bunker, inside and out.”

“I’ll kill your team.”

“Try it. I’ll burn off your money maker.”

“I’ll heal.”

“Doesn’t mean it won’t hurt.”

“I’ll go back to Vought.”

“Please, you hate them almost as much as me.”

“I doubt that.”

Her voice was coated in visceral, hot rage when she answered. “Don’t.”

Ben paused at that, squinting at her. “Why do you hate them?”

She shrugged. “Not your concern. But for the record, if you did try something that ass-brained, I wouldn’t just burn your face.”

Ben almost flinched when he saw her eyes flick down.

“What if I fail?”

“You won’t.” Her tone made it clear that there wasn’t room for debate.

“What if I want to stay here after, then?” Ben snapped. “I just spent forty years away. I’m not going again.”

“Fucking earn it.”

Ben let out a slow breath. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew when he was backed into a corner. But he had been against walls that were far more dangerous, and far more painful. He would play this little game until he figured out how to take her, the only player aside from him that mattered, out. But he wasn’t going to make any of this pleasant. If they wanted pleasant, they shouldn’t have crossed him in the first place.

“I want my fucking shield and suit back.”

She smiled with teeth for the first time. “I’ll see what I can do.”

——-

This had been a mistake. Now that everyone had left, you could admit—to yourself and no one else—that this was a stupid, arrogant mistake.

The first day had been… rough. There were three bedrooms, all with identical queen beds and equally generic decor. Solider Boy had insisted on laying on all of them to “test their durability." When you had told him they were all the exact same, he had called you an “uncultured hick." You had explained that you were from Boston and currently lived in New York, two urban areas that rendered “hick” an unsuitable title for you, offering “street trash” as a replacement. He told you he’d call you whatever he wanted, utilizing his nickname of “Sunshine” once again. You reminded him of your threat to burn off his favorite part of himself, he said that you would be only depriving yourself of it, and you left the conversation before you could make good on the promise.

Eventually he came down the stairs and gruffly told you that the bedroom with the attached bathroom was his, before stomping back into the said room to do something undoubtedly disgraceful .

Day two was only worse. You had collapsed in the bedroom with the five horse paintings, as it had been closest to the stairs, and you were exhausted from a day of verbal sparring and worrying if you’d have to go back to MM, tail between your legs, and admit you’d been wrong. Now, having gotten a whopping 4 hours of restless sleep, you just wanted coffee. Mallory told you she would send someone to drop groceries overnight, the safe house door having a bank-like slot for packages, and she had made good on her word. You had been able to tell this because when you walked into the kitchen, it looked like a food bomb had detonated.

“What the shit is this?” You said, your voice more tired than angry.

Soldier Boy, sitting at the counter, glared at you. “You’re up late.”

“It’s 7am. In nobody’s world is that ‘late’.”

“I’ve been up for 2 hours.”

You shrugged. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“I had to eat a sandwich.”

“Yeah, that happens.” You survey the mess for anything that you can use, hoping to see a box of cereal buried somewhere. You find what you’re looking for, along with some coffee that you put into the filter and stare at with blank exhaustion. In your sleepy haze, you block out Soldier Boy’s ramblings of hunger and shitty, crunchy peanut butter, hoping he tires himself out and leaves you alone. 

You were startled out of your head by the sound of your name.

"Huh?"

“Whatever you’re making, I want some too.” That gets through to you, and your head snaps up.

“How do you know my name?”

"Cocksucker said it."

"Cocksucker?"

"The little puppy that follows Butcher and Starlight around."

"Hughie?" 

"Sure." He rolled his eyes. “So, what are we eating?"

"We?"

"I asked you, very nicely, to cook me some of whatever you're making too. Or are you fucking deaf?"

“I’m not cooking anything.”

His brow knit in confusion. “You’re not going to eat? I thought all the feminist shit stopped that.”

“I’m going to eat, Jackass. But I’m not going to cook anything, I’m just going to throw cereal and milk into a bowl. You can do that yourself.” You decided not to touch the feminist comment, focusing on pouring your coffee instead.

“Well, what are you going to cook for lunch.”

“Well, if Mallory followed my list, I’ll heat up chicken tenders.”

“Dinner?”

You tilt your head. “Not sure. That’s like, twelve hours away.”

“But you’ll. You’ll cook something.”

“No.”

“Why?”

You sighed. “I don’t know how to cook.”

“What?!” He looked horrified now. It would almost be funny, if it were any other circumstances. “How?”

“I never learned.”

“But you’re a woman!”

“Yeah, no. We’re not having this conversation.” You turned on your heels to leave the room, coffee in hand, trying to ignore the hot feeling bubbling under your skin. You paused only to call back over your shoulder. “And clean up your fucking mess!”

Thankfully, after that, the morning was uneventful. You avoided Soldier Boy, he avoided you. All the way into lunch, you were almost able to forget your situation.

Almost.

“Fuck!” You tripped over a bag of apples on the floor, your eyes having been glued to your phone as you entered the kitchen. You looked around, seeing the mess from this morning sitting just as you’d left it.

“Keep it down!” Soldier Boy’s voice carried down the stairs. You ignored his request, raising your voice to a shriek.

“Get your manwhore ass down here right now, before I make you!”

You stepped further into the room, the bubbling feeling returning, and surveyed the area that somehow looked worse than before. Picking through the melted frozens, scattered produce, and loose cans and boxes, a dirty knife and plate on the counter.

“What the fuck is a manwhore,” he grumbled as he walked through the door.

“What the hell is this?” You ignored his question, gesturing around you.

He frowned. “The kitchen.”

“No, you ass. Why is all the food still out.”

He glared at you. “Because I’m already doing enough for your sorry ass, I’m not cleaning too.”

“You didn’t even put away your dishes!”

Soldier Boy just gave you an annoyed look, turning to walk away. Your vision went red.

“Shit!” He howled, running backwards into the room before turning with a glare. “You bitch!”

It took you a second to understand what he was talking about. You only managed to clue in from the fading scars on his face, and the realization that the feeling in you had boiled over.

If you were a better, less tired and angry person, you might have apologized. Thank god you weren’t.

“I am not going to spend the next who-knows-how-many months cleaning up after you. If you want to make this as difficult as possible, turn this house into a shithole, feel fucking free. I won’t stop you.”

“You don’t know how many months we’ll be here?”

“There’s a lot of moving parts to this operation that don’t concern you, and-“ You held up your hand as he started to interject. “That’s not the point. Clean up.”

“You should be thankful I’m even still here, you bitch. If it matters so much to you, do it yourself.” He growled back.

“Are you really that fucking stupid, or did you not just hear me say that this is not my mess to clean?! Either you do it, or it doesn’t get done.”

“You couldn’t make me with a million dollars and a blowjob.”

“Good thing I’m not offering either.”

A cold silence settled in the room, your arms crossed over your chest, trying to keep yourself from exploding once more. His glare had developed a murderous glint in his eyes, his fists clenched at his side.

“Bitch.”

You raised your chin. “Cunt.”

“You know, if I didn’t think it’d be a shame to ruin such a nice face, I’d slam you into the oven and burn yours off.”

“Oh, so you are that stupid.”

“Watch yourself.” He said your name in a low voice, taking a rough step forward.

“Sorry, for a second there I thought you said you believed you could burn a supe with fire powers. I must’ve misheard you.”

“I could make this very painful for you.”

“As opposed to your cheery compliance so far?”

“Do you think I’m just going to roll over?” He hissed, taking another step forward. “Be you and Butcher’s little lap dog?”

Something grew taut in your gut, but you held his gaze. “I think that if you don’t back the fuck up, I won’t make you roll over so much as physically harm you until you’re crying on the floor.”

"You're fighting a war you can’t win, Sunshine. I’ll kick your ass.” He sneered. “I’ll make you sob back home to Daddy Butcher.”

Your blood felt cold, your jaw almost cracking from the pressure in your chest. “So do it. Or move.”

Soldier Boy’s face was a portrait of rage, and you felt like he was dissecting with his cold green eyes. Looking for any weakness, any exploitable fallacy on your mask, any crack in your head that he could pry open and fill with poison. Make your lungs collapse into your ribs, make you claw and claw in desperation-

“Hm,” he grunted. He pulled himself to his full height before turning and leaving, leaving your anger sizzling at nothing. You watched as Soldier Boy, with controlled and rigid movements, stepped away from you, leaving the room without another word. Leaving you in the slop of the kitchen. He was getting further and further away from you, too far you to do anything about it, except maybe-

Before you could stop yourself, your hands were wrapped around the knife on the counter and the knife was flying across the room. It bounced off of Soldier Boy's back with a pitiful sound, but he stopped in his path, turning slowly. He glanced down, eyes finding the abandoned utensil on the floor before he dragged his gaze back to you.

“Did you just throw a fucking knife at me?”

“Clean up.”

He stared at you with the same eyes as before, the only betrayer of his emotions the twitch of a muscle in his jaw.

“It’ll take more than a bad throw to make me pussy enough to be your maid, Sunshine.” With that, he was gone.

———-

Ideally, the woman Ben would be forced into a lockdown with would be fun. She would give him sweet smiles and syrupy words, laugh at his jokes, and sprout similar ones. She wouldn’t be a sulking, useless, bitter prude whose greatest talent seemed to be finding issue with every word out of his mouth. Every time they had spoken, he had felt that beat in his ribs grow and grow, and it was nothing short of a fucking miracle it hadn’t gone off.

He hadn’t cleaned the kitchen, and he wouldn’t. It was beneath him, and she was the one who had chosen to be here, not him. In a brief moment of weakness, the stench from the rotten produce almost breaking his resolve, Ben had eyed a vacuum cleaner, only to realize he couldn’t use it if he wanted to. There were far too many buttons, weird twisty things lining the handle and bag, and he would take the first flight to Russia before he asked her for help.

They skirted around each other with success for two days after the knife incident, sneaking into the kitchen at odd hours to look for somehow edible food and leaving every possible door in the house locked behind them. A beautiful and well executed arrangement, broken only by her sudden appearance in the living room a few days later, standing behind him as he watched TV.

“We need to talk.” When Ben didn’t answer, she walked around the sofa, and grabbed the remote, turning off the screen. “Now.”

Ben scowled. “I was busy.”

“Watch a re-run of Jeopardy? With categories you don’t even understand?” She crossed her arms in front of him.

“I understood enough.”

She snorted. “One of the categories was ‘Celebrity-Inspired Products’. Name one modern, non-supe celebrity.”

Ben paused. “Marlon Brando.”

“Marlon Brando died in 2004.”

“Gene Wilder.”

“2016.”

“That one funny guy who was on the rise. In that stupid book movie.” Ben frowned. “William Robinson.”

She titled her head. “William Robinson… Do you mean fucking Robin Williams.”

“I was close,” Ben said with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, not really, cause he died in 2014. Now can we please talk.”

“Are you here to apologize?”

“Yes, actually.”

That got Ben’s attention. “Well then. Go on."

She had started to chew her lip again, her nose wrinkling like she smelled something bad. Though, to be fair, she probably did. The milk in the kitchen had become a problem. “I am sorry.” She took a needlessly labored breath through her nose. “I shouldn’t have thrown the knife at you. It was childish.”

Ben waited for her to continue, and when she didn't, he leaned forward. “That’s it?”

“Yep.”

“So you’re going to clean the kitchen?”

She let out a dry laugh. “Nope.”

Ben lounged back. “Then your apology is worthless.”

The now-familiar look of anger had returned to her face. “I am not your maid.”

“And I’m not yours.”

“I didn’t make the mess. And I’m not going to clean it just because you think you’re better than me.”

“I don’t think I’m better than you,” He retorted. “I am better than you.”

“Because you’re a man?” She jeered. “A big whiny baby with muscles?”

“Because I built up the company that gave you your little sparkle show. I am Vought. Those ungrateful backstabbing assholes wouldn’t be anywhere without me.”

She fell silent at that, the victory pumping its fists inside Ben’s head slowing the drum in his chest. If he had observed one thing about her, it was that there was almost never a time she lacked in words. Also, she listened to her stupid music deafeningly loud and had an impressive arm. He had felt that knife hit him, sharp end first, right on his spine, still burning from the heat of her touch. Another deep breath escaped her, a fog that had formed on her face clearing.

“Power and greatness have nothing to do with cleaning. Vought won’t hear about your refusal to run a dish washer and grovel on their knees for your forgiveness.”

“Because when I’m through with them, they won’t have knees.” Ben smiled at the fanstasy on a wheel-chair bound Stan Edgar.

“No, because they couldn’t give a shit about it. I don’t love being here any more than you, but I have to be. This is a marriage of convenience, so we-“

He snorted. “I'm not marrying you, Sunshine. You’re pretty, but too much of a bitch for my taste.”

“It’s an expression, you fucking idiot. It means a weary alliance hinging on a favor. We don’t need to like each other, but we can’t kill each other, or this will be a net loss.“

“Sure.” Ben gave her his cockiest grin. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

“You couldn’t handle me, Grampa.” Despite her mocking voice, her small step back didn’t escape Ben’s notice. Though her heart was steady, he dismissed it as anxiety. Obviously, nobody had helped her relieve any of that clear, needless stress plaguing her in a while. He would. Make this whole situation a little more bearable. Maybe, once she had a good fuck, she’d turn out to be just half as pleasant as his fantasy.

“I fucked Marilyn Monroe. I almost made her leave that pussy, Kennedy. You’d be lucky if I looked at you.”

“I’d say I’m lucky right now. You’re too busy trying to fuck your own reflection to look anywhere else.”

“And my reflection thanks me every fucking night.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” she gave him a toothy, arrogant smile. Ben knew she thought she’d won.

“If you ever want someone to pull that stick out of your ass, I’d be happy to help.”

Her smile faltered quickly, but was plastered back onto her face just as fast. “I’m sure it’ll fall out on its own.”

“In case it doesn’t, my door is open.”

“Thought I was a bitch?”

“You said we didn’t need to like each other to get hitched-”

“Never said hitched.”

“So if you ever want to ‘not like each other,’” he winked at her. “As hard as possible, my door is open. I’m a gentleman, you’d have fun.” He reached to take her, and he had hardly brushed their fingers when she jumped back, recoiling like he was covered in warts.

For the first time, Ben thought that the look on her face might be fear. She rubbed her hand like it had been burned, a part of him thought she might bite through her lips, and her heart had become erratic. But when she spoke, her voice was just as level as always.

“Clean your dishes, and keep your door fucking closed. Or next time I throw a knife, I’ll aim for your eye, and I won’t miss.”

She stomped up the stairs, the room lingering with smoke long after she left.

[pigeocore]

Are we fucking with Dethklok mom headcannons? Idk I have some very specific thoughts about Murderface and Toki's moms. More very long but fun info under the cut

Tammy was born and grew up in the same trailer park that her son would ultimatly inhabit. She was a louzy student, didn't care about grades, loved skipping school and there wasn't a single class she didn't spend chatting with the other girls. No suprise that she ultimatly dropped out of high school. For a while she worked odd jobs to justify Stella not kicking her out of the trailer up until she was a young adult. That's when she found her new purpouse: to become a star. She moved to the big city with big hopes and dreams, sighned up to every audition possible for pretty much everything, ready to take the hearts of Americans by storm. Anyway she quit that two months in because it was too much work and got hired as a waitress instead.

Murderface's dad, who I don't feel like giving a name to, was a regular at a diner that Tammy woked at. He was a middle class guy, a few years older than her with a relativly good job and a wife. He saw something in her and soon enough, Tammy became the other woman in his relationship. Although their affair wasn't strictly limited to intercourse, anything other than that was rather messy and the two were constaly on again and off again. That is until Tammy got pregnant and in a suprising decision, Murderface's dad decided to step up. He divorced his previous wife and married her instead, turning her from a poor waitress to a full-on picket fence housewife, something that he'd come to quickly regret. Their relationship started falling apart pretty much immidietly. When they weren't having screaming maches or mediocre sex, they didn't talk at all. He'd spend the whole day working or sitting in front of the TV drinking and she'd tend to the house. This tension was what would ultimatly lead him to commit the infamous murder-suicide.

Now, Tammy was not good at her job. In fact, she kinda sucked. Her cooking was terrible, she'd constantly half-ass any task she was given and would not take any criticism. Still, it was at least good enough to not make the house explode. Her not being nor striving to be the picture-perfect housewife was what ended up alienating her from a lot of other women around her. Still, she didn't care about fitting in with those girls, she saw the as "pompous bitches" and continued doing her thing

A lot of that attitude also carried over to her parenting. She was very irresponsible, although most of her behaviour stemed from lack of knowlage rather than anything purpouseful. Tammy was totally the kind of mom to leave her baby alone in the car while she went shopping or let it crawl around the house unsupervised. Once again, she would not take ANY criticism about her parenting techniques. Still, she did geniuanly love Willy a lot for what it was worth. Her son ment the world to her and god forbid anyone call him ugly. Whenever her husband, who unlike her had a lot of distaste for their baby, tried to say anything on the matter she'd fight him until the neighbours were calling the cops due to noise complains

She also had a bit of a morbid side to her. She loved violent movies and would sneak into grindhouse theaters on occassions, especially when she was younger. Truly a shame she died before Texas Chainsaw Massacre came out. She would've been ecstatic to hear her son joined a death metal band, although I don't think she would've supported all of his shenanigans.

Also she looks like Murderface because I think it would be really funny if he just looked like every woman in his family lol

Anna, nicknamed Andzia by her family was born in the polish region of lubelszczyzna in a fictional village of Jagiellonki Książęce Kościelne trzecie A-Kolonia. It was the kind of village where there was nothing except a church, roadside shrine and a few homes. Her family were farmers, she spend a good chunk of her childhood picking fruits and tending to farm animals.

In school, she was considered an excellent student, both due to her behaviour and preformance. She was very quiet and well behaved, always stuck in her own little world and never getting in any trouble. She also had really good grades. Andzia especially excelled at language learning, something that'd come to be very useful for her in the future. She wasn't very interested in persuing an academic career though and cared more about other stuff, including helping her parents around the farm

Another thing she cared about very deeply was her religion. She went to mass every sunday, pray every day before going to bed, took part in every possible church activity and even sung in the church choir. She was proud of being a christian, always looking for ways to become even more devoted. However, she wasn't always the nicest about her belifs and tended to secretly judge other christians who did less than her

Andzia met her future husband through complete coincidence. They both happend to be on seprate pilgrimages to the same holy site, it was tradition in Aslaug's cult that before taking the role of the reverend the man must go on a spiritual journey for one last time. The two just kinda bumped into eachoter and ended up clicking. Andzia saw Aslung's belifs as a way for her to become an even better christian and Aslaug saw her as a good fit for a wife. She stayed with him after her group departed from the site and within a month, the two were engaged and organizing a way for her to leave Poland. Andzia came to Norway and officially joined the cult through marrige a few months later, something that would've probably happend sooner if leaving Poland through less legal means at the time was a bit easier. She took the name Anja Wartooth in order to assimilate better into her new Norwegian family. Toki was born a year later

I know a lot of people like to headcannon Anja as a victim of abuse in the same way that Toki was, but I personally see her as someone who was very much complicit in her son's treatment. Although I don't think Aslaug was the best husband to her, she still treated Toki just as badly as he did and though she now thinks she may have sometimes went bit too far, she doesn't really see herself as in the wrong

Overall her and Toki's relationship is not good. TLDR: She always saw him as a dissapointment and if she could, she would've had other kids to replace him with (Unfortunatly she and her husband didn't have any luck conceving again, which they blamed on Toki too for some reason). He on the other hand really wants to love her but can't help but rightfully feel resentful and hate her for all she did to him

Despite that, Anja cared enough for her son to teach him a bit of polish and some facts about their culture. Toki then continued learning from the polish books she brought with her from back home (He didn't have much to do inbetween work, praying and punishments) and actually ended up being almost fluent in it at some point. Currently he has gone rusty but still knows enough to read some signs and order some beer at the bar, which was enough to impress the band at their first international tour

One last fun fact: As you can guess, Aslaug's cult dennounced the pope which was really hard on Anja because like every polish person at the time she fucking loved John Paul II. He was her secret true love/celebrity crush, despite everything she secretly kept a picture of him in her room. When she discovered he died somewhere during the events of Dethfam she was DEVISTATED. Toki on the other hand is a rzułta morda meme connosiour.

[quixtrix]

rayman, eden's feel good american dream story; an analysis

guess who's back with taking ubisoft's silly guys and cutting them open. yknow, if you strip rayman of his personality, of all the behind the scenes we get of him, we get a run of the mill news reporter that is an immigrant, who by face alone serves as a shining ray of hope. he's easily something that by all means, can be classified as a diversity hire. immigrant, nonhuman (which in the world of clh can be considered to be equated with poc irl), and notably the only one in his work environment. don't believe me?

we rarely ever see anyone other than rayman on the show in the form of a coworker. the only time we do see other eden affiliated people, they are both white. "but you can't see red's face!!" there is a reason his dialogue makes you think of more right leaning people with their claims of 'wokeness is destroying everything' under something like april from tmnt being black and not ginger. he's a caricature meant to represent a specific group of people under fascism; those who have successfully consumed the fearmongering and have let it turn from fear of those that they are told are beneath them into hatred for them. there is also the fact that on live tv he throws up a middle finger, refers to an implied group of immigrant people as 'filthy interdimensional alien scum,' and seemingly gains no backlash for it. yes, the other reporter does try to give red a chance to go back on his words, but he sticks to it. and despite all of this, we get no indication that neither red nor the niji 6 had to apologise or received punishment for this. in fact, red is possibly given more chances by eden due to him being weirdly in charge of bullfrog's containment in a way? (i'm not entirely sure WHY he was there, but as he is one of eden's tv personalities, he's at a possibly televised trial of a terrorist.) now if you compare this to rayman, who also acted inappropriately on tv by literally saying fuck, you'd come to realise that rayman was treated so much more harshly. he was IMMEDIATELY replaced by a clone of himself, with no warning nor any indication that eden would do such a thing. it's very likely this was one of, if not the first time that rayman has slipped up like this on live tv. maybe it's a repeat offence considering his personality, but then you could argue that red is a repeat offender of the same shit and then you have to wonder why a soldier like red was not easily replaced but someone who is the literal face and voice of eden was with ease. it's because rayman made himself more than jus a story, he humanised himself by showing a peek of his raw feelings. remember that cute little exposition of the rayman kids show about hybrids? where we see all of these hybrids working as society's grunts and the kids are told to be thankful for hybrids? it's very sweet and gives a good message! now the rayman kids show is a product of eden propaganda, but rayman very much has a hand in it, most likely as a writer. he uses his platform to speak on issues that has happened and affected him. this can be seen in his biopic.

jus sit with this image for a moment. you ever think about why rayman is specifically made as an alien? why he's specifically an immigrant? in real life news reports and speeches, there is a difference in implications when people use immigrants and not aliens. you wanna know why?

as someone apart of an immigrant family myself, i live in a community of other immigrants. majority of them are hispanic, and while i myself am not hispanic, i am very aware of how hispanic immigrants were referred to and treated by politicians under trump's presidency. how couldn't i? even as children in middle school and elementary, we had discussions about what trump was saying because it directly targets my friends and their families. they are people targeted by a man who specifically uses derogatory terms to dehumanise them, to make it easier to justify in the average american mind that the government is doing the right thing by keeping out and protecting america from these so-called 'invading animals.' makes what red was saying earlier feel very on the nose, right? adi shankar, the showrunner for captain laserhawk, is also an immigrant man. immigrated from india, which by the way, did you know has a lot of people immigrating for the purpose of having a better life? that's a common sentiment that can be found in every single immigrant family's story. i've asked my filipino mother why she took an opportunity to live and work in america, and she told me it's because she wanted to give her children a better life than what we would have had in the philippines. hell, i bet if you share a similar background to me, you can ask your own parents the same thing and get the exact same answer, regardless if you came from latin america or africa, or asia. it's because of the concept of the american dream. everyone who has ever engaged with any degree of immigrant discussion has heard of the american dream. it's a concept that seems to be consistently proven via word of mouth, with the biggest examples being celebrities. they will always, without fail, eventually speak about the american dream within their backstories. and typically, they will use their platforms to further empower others within their community. it's why people from specific ethnicities tend to group together, why people make art meant as something akin to a homage to their people. it provides hope to the masses, makes you relate to the person on the screen, and believe that this society is truly a gracious one by providing opportunity. because yeah, it may be bad, but it could be worse. i mean we appreciate you! just look!

dont mind the fact that the majority of opportunities allotted to you is grunt work, the work where you at the base of the pyramid, with the harder jobs and the jobs no one wants to do. dont mind the fact you will be actively dehumanised, forced to work for hours in conditions we wouldn't put anyone else in, but hey. we appreciate you. we thank you. and yknow, you can become more than what you are. yknow, we let someone just like you be more than what you are! nevermind the fact that if they slip up, they'll be met with MUCH harsher criticism in comparison to someone who isn't you! aren't we so gracious? i probably sound a bit like matpat's insane out of context real world examples, but this show is filled with political imagery, so let me be. anyways, let's get back to eden and rayman. rayman, despite being specifically from dimension x as an alien, keeps hybrids in mind when he's doing his work.

people of colour tend to share solidarity with one another due to the fact that surface wise, we share similar struggles. to grossly oversimplify things, we all face discrimination through our appearances and are oppressed by the rules of a society created by our white oppressors. again, hybrids and dimension x immigrants can be equated to irl poc, and despite being different from each other, there is still community. rayman keeps them in mind, hoping to make things better for the overall nonhuman and nonnative (native as in naturally born) population of eden. but, rayman is not what he believes he is. because despite everything he has worked for, despite what he has tried to do, he is still a facilitator of the fascist regime that has an active hand in the perpetual oppression of his own people. one of the core concepts within fascism is us versus them. it's an easy way to instill fear (which is very much needed in fascism to make it easier to lie to the masses) and it's used in multiple layers, beginning with a large group (ex. us versus ussr, capitalism vs communism), then progressively sizing down (ex. saying all eastern europeans are communist, then going smaller and say all those affiliated with eastern europeans are communist) with the goal being to put people against each other and break up community since if you put your minds together, you'll start to realise that the fascist system is bullshit. what i've personally come to find is that in order to hide the fact that there is fascism lurking is that someone that can be considered a 'them,' an other, will be given a seat at the table. it's so they can be used as an excuse, a human shield, when they inevitably slip up and can be paraded to the masses as proof that the other is not as smart or powerful as 'us.' the 'other' within the 'us' is used as something to look down at, while also justifying to oneself that they have a place, that they are not being oppressed. they have an opportunity as much as anyone else! so long as they don't mess up. rayman messes up, and is shunned from 'us.' hes a mistake, impure, clearly not like 'us,' 'us' who had been so gracious to give this 'other' a place. he's cut out and discarded because he has well worn his purpose, and clearly, they can just get another little puppet. they'll dress him up and make him worthy of being one of 'us,' and make sure that this one won't fall to the fault of his little ideas. which is exactly what leads to rayman's transformation of ramon. being forcibly forced out and discarded by eden because he showed his true ideas makes him realise that there was no real place for him within the system. because what good is his work if it leads to what he tried not to create? it's worthless, just as the system it attempts to thrive in is.

tl;dr, rayman is a representation of the american dream, specifically celebrities. he tries to do what he can with his platform, but the fact is that within a fascist system, his impact is not entirely felt in the way he wants it to. that is why he becomes ramon.

anyways if you reached the end of THIS LONG ASS PIECE GOOD LORD thank you!! always open to discuss this and take criticism, my ask box is open in the lil 'who's asking' :^]

[thechurchofsplatterdaysaints]

Golly, mister. That drink sure does look awful refreshing!

Bad dreams woke me up @ 4am. While it 110% tracks that my birthday turned into a national gd tragedy I can live without wrestling my own gd head too. Kindly lift boot from neck, Universe. Let her breathe free today.

In 2001 I woke up to Times of Grace on the turntable and mom crying in my ear saying "turn on the tv the world is ending." What a choice of words. That's both tragically american and a great twilight zone title.

UGHHH. Fuck this shit. Not letting the ghosts of some past bs ruin my mf day. Will, however, get pretty for violence and let some ground and pound do me right.

Made grilled chicken salads (Pixburgh style, obvs) for lunch that were gtfoh good. Maybe a new Absolut flavor to mix things up. Definitely music. Smooth those rough edges with some dabs, even.

Kindly keep a good thought if you're of a mind to. Quite the lil Virgo clique we've got!

HANDS UP CHIN DOWN! LFG!

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - December 10th

Here’s a very short list because it’s been a very busy week. Enjoy and be sure to leave your author comment and kudos. 

Triple-A Rated by iam93percentstardust 

Three assassination attempts in two weeks. That's gotta be some kind of record. Three attempts - and that doesn't even count the Ten Rings. Tony's pretty sure that Stane's trying to kill him again. Fury's pretty sure of the same thing, which is why he starts sending agents to protect him. It's just that Tony doesn't like any of his new bodyguards - except one.

Do-Over by gottalovev 

Steve woke up six months ago into a future that leaves him indifferent. There is work, and not much else. His current mission is a basic search and rescue operation to retrieve an American who was kidnapped by a terrorist group ten days ago. He won't let the fact that the hostage is Howard's son be a distraction.

From The Ground Up by thatsweetmysteryoflife 

The first time Steve had seen Tony Stark since SHIELD had fallen, he was on TV.

Or, how a team became a family, and friendship became love.

Unsaid words by Herogers 

And he was moving on.. well, he was getting on with it. It was fine, really.

Well, at least he felt fine, until he saw Tony for the first time in years and the words felt like they were scraping their way up from his chest, begging to be let out.. He was fine. This is work, this is for something more than him, more than both of them. So if the sight of those honey brown eyes piercing through his blues were almost nauseating.. It had to be fine.

Zero to One by magicasen 

Steve returns the Stones, comes back to 2023, names Sam the successor to Captain America, and sets off on his bike. Life is transient, and grief is all-encompassing, until Steve starts dreaming of Tony every night.

Truths and Roses Have Thorns About Them by FestiveFerret 

Steve has a secret. And then he makes a poorly-timed joke to a reporter, and suddenly he has two secrets.

One: He's in love with his best friend.

Two: Despite what the press thinks, they're not actually dating.

and you think love is to pray by StevieVixxen

It’s a betrayal that cuts deep…

Soft Skills by Lady_Ganesh

"So," Bruce said carefully. "You're saying that your tower became a big target for an alien army, so you're going to rebuild it as an even bigger target?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds stupid," Tony said.

The team tries to bring Steve Rogers into the 21st Century. It mostly works.

As my beta CaptainBlue said: Also I love how you did a fic about Avengers team building and still managed to make it 100% about Cap. You have a gift. This is why I love her. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Think Again by KandiSheek 

Tony doesn't understand why Steve always makes him run laps or do push-ups before sex. Steve doesn't know why Tony doesn't like his kind of foreplay. After all, everyone gets turned on by exercise. Right?

Cat's in the Cradle by Last_Chance_Anna

Steve starts thinking about his father and the affect he had on his life. Tony is there to offer support and comfort.

Santa Claus is Coming to Town by Last_Chance_Anna

Steve and Tony throw a Christmas party, and Steve rediscovers his jealous streak when it comes to Tony. Luckily Tony knows the cure for that. Spoiler alert: It's sex.

Not a Perfect Man by Neverever

Steve and Tony are back on track as friends and spending a lot of time together as they form a new Avengers team. But Steve is again in a rocky relationship with Sharon and Tony is dating a new woman. Steve struggles as his long-dormant crush on Tony comes back with a vengeance because he's supposed to be a good man and he doesn't want to lose Tony as a friend. What is he supposed to do as a friend when Tony's new girlfriend turns out to be not good for Tony?

Running out of Time by Lenalena 

Prompt: "After the events of IM 1, Tony joins the expedition searching for Captain America as a holiday to get away from all the media speculation and stock value crash hate he was getting from the board. He's testing out new kit, working up a new portfolio of technology to boost the company back up, when he finds a plane wreck, buried halfway under the Greenland ice sheet."

That is how he ends up hiding Captain America in plain sight, while the man gets adjusted to the 21st century. He is just doing him a favor, okay?

What could possibly go wrong?

[laughroditee]

Your Ghost | a COD fanfic - Part 1 - Knight of Swords

CW: this story takes place after Soap's death and contains supernatural elements, tarot, mentions of death and blood

I didn't want to make the chapters too long (I'm unsure what the proper netiquette is for word count), so it will continue in subsequent posts.

Summary: An American tarot reader finds herself inextricably linked to John MacTavish, whose ghost needs a favor from her before he can rest.

Mood Music:

The first time I knew something was wrong was a few months ago when, out of nowhere, an excruciating pain shot through my head, causing me to scream and promptly pass out.  The dreams that followed in my unconsciousness were heavy and sad: bagpipes at a funeral playing their mournful melody for a person I didn’t know.  I had been at work that day, like any other day, but when I woke up, I was in the hospital.  Doctors ran so many tests on me, thinking perhaps I’d had a brain aneurysm, but scans of my brain were clear, and subsequent tests showed that I was right as rain.  Totally healthy.  I returned to my everyday life, with the only complication being the inexplicable migraines that continued to plague me.

Then came the wanderlust.  The nasal sound of bagpipes continued to wheedle their way into my dreams, and pretty soon, I became possessed with the need to go to the UK.  It became a matter of life and death.  I didn’t even have a passport, but knew I had to go.  Where exactly, I wasn’t even sure.  Scotland would make sense, considering the bagpipes, but my gut said no.  No, that’s not right.

So I did what any good woo-woo witchy person would do: I pulled out a map of the UK and my pendulum and asked for assistance narrowing down my intended destination.  Stilling my mind, I took a deep breath, focusing on the amethyst pendulum dangling from my hand.  The crystal twitched and spun before swinging slightly right, south on the map.  I followed the pendulum south over Scotland, past Northern England, toward London, but the crystal had other ideas, sending me back north.  It spun in circles around a location: Manchester.

That’s how, months later (had to wait for my passport), I found myself at the Brittania Hotel in Manchester, in one of their “standard twin rooms without a window.”  I never really knew how much I liked windows until I didn’t have one, but that’s beside the point.  At least I got a private bathroom, a coffee maker, and a TV, so I can’t complain too much for $44 per night.  Besides, this entire trip was an exercise in insanity, so why not add in some sensory deprivation while we’re at it?

As soon as I stood on UK soil, I knew this was the right place; that intuitive nudge felt like a soothing affirmation.  And that’s a great thing because simply being up in the air triggered another migraine, and I was afraid I’d puke on the guy next to me.  After unpacking my bag in the hotel room, I flipped a card from my tarot deck: The Knight of Swords.

The Knight of Swords talks about action, as all Knight cards do.  There’s a sense of motion, movement, and moving forward inherent there, with The Knight of Swords having the connotation of almost overwhelmingly swift movement; in fact, you can interpret it as needing to take heed that you’re not leaping before you’re looking.  (What irony.)  But that’s only one part of the story as the suit of the card will tell you what’s moving.  Swords in the tarot represent the element of air, so all things related to logic, ideas, communication, words, writing, and thoughts.  Holistically, you can interpret The Knight of Swords as needing to make sure you check your words before you say things so that you become aware of any potential obstacles on this path that you’re charging down. But, ultimately, you have the clarity of mind to overcome any challenges.  Where there’s a will, there’s a way.

However, the court cards in tarot can also signify people: kings as men or masculine energy, queens as women or feminine energy, and pages as children or youthful energy.  Knights, though, are tricky.  They can symbolize people of any gender, anywhere from age twenty-five up to forty, people who move in and out of our lives, physical travel, change, or pure energy and where you’re focusing it.  It can be hard to know what the “correct” interpretation is in any given reading, with so many meanings to consider, but I usually just go with my gut or pull some more cards for context.  In this case, why not both?

Pulling two more cards from the deck, I laid them out on the bed next to the first one: Death and the Three of Swords.  Contrary to popular belief, the Death card doesn’t usually mean death or foretell of someone dying.  It means change and transformation, the end of a cycle and the beginning of a new one.  The Three of Swords features an illustration with three swords stabbing through a bleeding heart: heartbreak, but sometimes literal heart health problems.

"Wow, bad day," I said as I looked over the cards.

I suddenly felt a presence in the room that wasn’t there a minute ago, the hairs on the back of my neck and my arms standing on end.

"Ye finally made it, lass."

My head whirled around so fast that the ends of my bobbed hair stabbed me in the eye.  I shot to my feet, spilling the rest of my cards to the floor.  “Fuck!” I whined, cradling my stinging, watering eye as I stumbled backward. 

Deep, apparently very amused laughter rang out in the room, and I was astonished to see a man there, wearing some kind of military getup, a mohawk cut into his dark brown hair. Oh, and he was semi-transparent.

I backed away slowly, my hand clapped over my eye.  There is no way in Hell.  “What the fuck, are you a ghost?” 

His expression sobered as he nodded his spectral head.  “Unfortunately.”  

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice a couple of octaves higher than it would typically be.  The urge to scream was overwhelming, and he put his hands out placatingly. 

”Easy, love,” he cooed, keeping his voice as soothing as possible so as not to spook me further.  “We have a blood tie.”

“What?”  The man — ghost? ghost man? — could tell me he was king of Scotland, and I don’t think that would change my hesitation or the level of existential panic I felt at that moment.

“We’re kin,” he said with a little more force, trying to reach me through my brain-melting anxiety.  “Family.  Somewhere along the line, we share blood.  Is it so hard to imagine?  Big world like this?”

“I’m literally talking to a dead man,” I say as my inner thoughts bleed out of my mouth.  Either my imagination is amazing, or I’m having a breakdown.  Maybe there really was something wrong with my brain, and they just couldn’t find it.  Maybe the migraines were making me hallucinate.

“Evangeline!” 

That caught my attention, my blue eyes snapping to his in shocked confusion.  “How do you know my name?”

He had the audacity to sound frustrated.  “Like I said, we share a blood tie.”

"Oh, of course.  That obviously explains everything.  I’m so relieved."

He smirked.  “Yer a wisearse ye are.”

Well, he did get one thing right anyway.  “How come I don’t know your name then?”

”Because I’m dead, and ye’re not.  It’s John, by the way.  John MacTavish.”

Examining him warily, I ask, “So we’re, like, cousins or some shit, John MacTavish?”

He shrugged, pushing his long sleeves up his forearms, which is such a mind-boggling thing to think about a ghost doing — like, what’s the purpose of that? Is he too warm?  “I dunnae know exactly, lass; I just know that I was pulled to ye.  And ye answered.”  It was then that I noticed the ghostly blood on the side of his head, his presumably fatal bullet wound in the exact place where I felt my migraines.

My stomach dropped into what felt like a vat of ice.  “Oh… Oh no. I’m not a medium!  I don’t see dead people!” I desperately pleaded with him, trying to convince him he'd gotten the wrong girl. “I just sling cards; I don’t do any of that other stuff!”

”And yet, here I am.  Here ye are.”  He put his hand on his hip.

“Yes, but… Why?  Why are you here?  What do you want from me?”  Then I saw his tattoo.  With a sudden motion, I moved quickly forward — I think I actually startled him — and I bent my head down to look at his forearm.  Nested inside of laurels was a sword with wings, topped by a knight’s helm and crown.

”Knight of Swords,” I breathed, astonished.  Rushing back, I grab my card from the bed, brandishing it as I return to where he stands.  “This is you?  You did this?”

The ghost of John MacTavish looked down at me with a serious expression.  “I did.  I need yer help, Evangeline.  Yer the only one who can do it.”

Part 2

[dreamcatchers-husband]

Holiday Season

Male reader X Billlie Tsuki

Length: 6600 Words

Tags: Creampie, Breeding

A/n- Happy thanksgiving. Not my best work but i hope you don't mind it. Tsuki is beautiful and should get more love. Gonna try to put out another fic next week so wish me luck.

Holidays. Some are recognized throughout the entire world while others are specific to just certain countries. Thanksgiving was a time for family and being grateful for what you have but you honestly didn’t have anything. 

The death of your mother and father was sudden but it affected you deeply. They were the only source of comfort you had in life. Once they were gone, you honestly didn’t feel like you belonged anywhere. A few months went by as you made a giant change in your life. You decided to move to your parent's home country of South Korea to get back in touch with your heritage.

One of the few things left for you was the old home your father grew up in. With a little bit of work, it soon became the place of your dreams, the place to start all over again. That brings you back to today, thanksgiving day. 

South Korea didn’t celebrate thanksgiving but they had their version called Chuseok. Sure it wasn’t the same but people understood that they could be seen as a bit similar. With the company you worked at knowing you’re American, they decided to let you have the day off to celebrate the day. 

Taking advantage of the day off, you decided to catch up on some sleep. You weren’t sure what time it was but the sudden sound of a lawnmower woke you up from your deep slumber. Stretching your limbs, you reached out for your phone and picked it up. 

Looking at the time, you saw it was already 2 in the afternoon. Getting up from bed, your legs brought you over to the bathroom. In a matter of seconds, your clothes are off and you are in the shower. Turning the nozzle, the water begins to shoot out from the shower head. The sudden rush of cold water quickly woke you up as you began your shower. 

A few minutes passed as your daily routine came to an end. Walking out of your bathroom you made your way over to your dresser and pulled out some clothes for the day. Once your shirt and sweatpants were on, you threw yourself back on top of your bed and turned on the tv. 

The latest drama trending in the country happened to be doing a rerun. Guess it’s your chance to catch up on what you have been missing. Hours seem to go by as you begin to feel a growl come from your stomach. Knowing it was time to eat, you jumped off your bed and began to walk to your kitchen. 

The walk to your fridge was quick but you were hit with a sense of disappointment looking at the empty refrigerator. The sadness you felt was gone as you heard a sudden squeak from your backyard. Recognizing it as your backdoor gate, you went to your sliding door and looked into your backyard. 

Just like your empty fridge, you were met with a surprise except this was a big one. In your backyard stood some of the members of Billie, dressed in hanbok taking pictures. That’s right, the rookie K-pop group Billie is in your backyard. You never did specify what your job was. Every day you woke up early to be one of the managers of the group. 

As you open your sliding door, your eyes couldn’t pry away from a certain girl twirling around in her hanbok. Despite it being one of her few times wearing one, Tsuki just amazed you with how beautiful she was in the hanbok. As the girls continued to spin around, one of them finally saw you and waved at you. 

“Oppa. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Well thank you Suhyeon. Not that it’s bad to see you guys but what are you doing at my house? Better yet, how did you even know where I live?” 

“You pointed at the house once before Oppa. And we may have asked a few people to just look it up on the company computers.” 

“Well, that’s a bit of a security concern. Either way, I’m still wondering what you are doing here?”

“Well, it’s Thanksgiving! We figured you probably were just gonna stay home all day so we came to celebrate with you.” 

“Don’t you girls have schedules?” I could have sworn you guys had things to do.” 

All the girls then giggled a bit as they got closer, Sua stood in front of you and began to speak. 

“Yeah, we actually didn’t have anything to do today. We just made it look like we had things scheduled today to surprise you.” 

Hearing that made your whole body fill with joy. You honestly didn’t expect them to be here but your friends were here. Before you could get another word out you felt a pair of arms wrap around your body. Your nostrils were filled with the smell of flowers suddenly, letting you know who just hugged you.

“Happy thanksgiving Oppa. I hope today is a great day for you.” 

“Thank you, Tsuki. Should we head inside guys? It’s a little cold out here right now.” 

With a nod, all the girls followed you inside as the group sat down in your living room. 

“So where is the maknae line?” 

“They are at school. It’s not a holiday in this country so they couldn’t get the day off sadly. They send their best.” 

“Well, I’m glad they are at school. This really shouldn’t be a big thing.” 

Saying those words seemed to anger the girls a bit as Sheon spoke up. 

“Well too bad. All you need to do is shit here while we prepare everything.” 

“Prepare what?” 

You didn’t get a response as all the girls stood up from their seats and went to the front door. Following behind, you saw the girls getting handed containers from a delivery driver. As their hands got full, you ran over to take a few of the remaining things and said thank you to the driver. With a kick, the door closed as you ran to the kitchen with the hot aluminum containers. 

Once in your basic kitchen, you set down the full containers on your table and looked around. The familiar sight of your girls joking around blessed your eyes. As they opened the containers massive amounts of steam poured out of them. All around, you could see platters of typical thanksgiving food sitting in your kitchen. 

The aroma of the Mac and cheese, the stuffing, and the green bean casserole hit your nose. Despite all those great foods, the strongest smell came from the remaining container that was covered. Once the aluminum lid was removed, your entire kitchen was filled with the scent of oven-roasted Turkey. Your mouth began to water as your eyes sparkled at the golden brown skin of the bird. 

“We honestly weren’t sure what classified as thanksgiving food so we checked on Naver. Once we saw what types of food were needed, we managed to find a local company in Seoul that prepares dinners for Americans here in South Korea.” 

Hearing from Haram the efforts they went to get you this food made you tear up. As a few small tears fell down your cheek, the sudden warm feeling of an embrace caught your attention. Looking down, you saw all of the girls hugging you. The small tears in their own eyes were apparent as the sound of sniffling filled the room. 

You aren’t quite sure how much time passed as the giant group hug finally ends. Cleansing the tears from your eyes you smile at the girls and finally speak up. 

“Ok Suhyeon, you can grab the plates. Sheon, grab the ladles for the mashed potatoes and such. Sua, make sure to get plenty of utensils for everyone. Tsuki and I will cut up some of the turkey.” 

Once the Game plan was told, everyone went to do what they were told to do. Pulling out the biggest knife at your disposal, you made your way over to the turkey. As the rest of the girls began to put small portions of the various sides on their plates, Tsuki took hold of a pair of Tongs and held the piece of turkey you needed to cut. 

One by one, each of the ladies came up to take a piece of the bird and sat down at the dining room table. All that was left was Tsuki as well as your plate. 

“What do you want on your plate, Oppa?” 

“Well, I’m a big guy so I want a little of everything. But you have already done enough. Let me serve both you and myself.” 

Before Tsuki could argue, your hands went towards each of the spoons and ladles. First, the mashed potatoes were put on each plate and topped off with some gravy. Many of the dishes you mentioned earlier begin to fill up your plate. The sight was similar to an avalanche as the food moved all around your plate. 

Finally arriving at the turkey, you stretched out your hand to grab the knife but felt a sudden slap on it, stopping you. 

“I will serve you this at least. You are the guest at this dinner.” 

“But it’s my house?” 

“Sush Oppa. Now what piece of the turkey do you want?” 

The glare that came from the girl’s eyes let you know she was serious. 

“I’ll take a turkey leg then.” 

With a nod, Tsuki took the knife and cut the turkey leg off the bird. As Tsuki put it at the top of your plate, you found yourself playing a balancing game with all the things on your plate. Once Tsuki cut a small piece of the turkey Breast off, you both ran to the dining room table. 

Laugher could be heard from the rest of the girls as they saw Tsuki as well as you juggling the mountain of food. Placing down your plate, the two of you took your seats and looked around the table. Seeing a few glasses of soda on the table, you knew everything was all set to start eating. 

“Well. I am starving so let’s all dig in!” 

With cheers, everyone grabbed a fork and started to eat. Some of these foods were things they had never tried before but the new flavors seemed to be great as their eyes got wide as saucers. 

“This casserole is delicious.”

“Oh god, the stuffing is amazing. I could eat a whole plate of just this.” 

“Well, I’m glad you guys enjoy this meal. I guess I should say welcome to your first thanksgiving. I wish you would have brought a change of clothes though.” 

“Oh don’t worry we did. Plus We have worked in hanbok plenty of times where it’s not uncomfortable.”

“Oh well, I’m glad you are ok with the Hanbok, Sheon. I’ll assume it's the same for the other girls as well.” 

“Well I’m still getting used to this but it’s not a pain.” 

“Well, I thank you for wearing it, Tsuki.” 

As the rest of dinner continued, you began to notice Tsuki would keep taking glances at you and smiling. You couldn’t help but smile back at the girl. Despite you all eating, you saw Tsuki was also a bit more quiet than usual. 

Once everyone’s plates were empty you clapped your hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Now for a thanksgiving tradition, we are going to go around the table and share things we are thankful for. Who would like to go first?” 

With much enthusiasm, Sheon brought her hand up to start things off. With a quick nod, Sheon began to talk. 

“Now we all have things we are thankful for but what I am the most thankful for are my mom and dad. They have given me support at times when I needed it.”

“I’m glad your parents have helped. I’m sure we all have that one person and people who helped us when we needed it. Who else would like to go?” 

Suhyeon at that time raised her hand and spoke up. 

“I am thankful for our dear Belllie’ve. No matter what, they are always there ready to cheer us up. The support we get from them always helps me to keep going in this industry.” 

“That's great Suhyeon. Your fans are amazing. Haram? Would you like to go next?” 

“Well it might sound a little dumb but I’m thankful for the company for taking a chance on us debuting.” 

“The company would have been stupid for not taking a chance on any of you. The talent you guys have shown this past year just helps cement you all as the rookies to keep an eye on. Now, who is next then?” 

Sua raised her hand and spoke up. 

“I am thankful for my brother. With the advice, he gives me I am certain I will be able to make a bigger impact in the K-pop industry.” 

“I’m glad he gives you advice. You have already established yourself as one of the best K-pop rappers of the fourth generation. I’m sure your impact will be massive for years to come. I guess this leaves Tsuki last. What are you thankful for, bunny princess?” 

A slight blush appeared on Tsuki’s cheeks as she picked up her fork and ate a bit more of her food. Assuming she wanted a bit more time to think, you decided to speak up yourself. 

“Well, I am thankful for all of you girls. All of you welcomed me with open arms when I became your manager. I honestly wasn’t expecting you to all be so kind to me and it was what I needed after such a big change in my life.”

“You are family Oppa. At times when the schedules can get crazy, you are always there with snacks and water and such. Other managers, we had as trainees didn’t care as much as you do. I’m sure I speak for everyone here that we are thankful for you as well.” 

Hearing those words from Haram made you happy.

Smiles were all around as you all looked at each other. Finally, it was Tsuki’s turn as you all faced her to listen to her response. You couldn’t help but notice the blush still on her face. 

“I-I’m thankful for……”

The red shade on her cheeks began to spread to her entire face. Tsuki continued to repeat those three words, not being able to get to the next. Just as you were about to say something you heard a cough from the right side of the table. Looking in that direction, you saw it was Sua getting everyone’s attention. 

“Um, let's just get some dessert. There is an apple pie already cut up. Everyone can go sit down in the living room and set up a movie to watch. Tsuki and I will get the pieces of pie for everyone!.” 

Everyone around the table suddenly stood up and began to move around. Following their example, you followed the other girls to the living room and sat down on the couch. You didn’t even get to choose the movie as Suhyeon grabbed the remote and decided on watching home alone. You wanted to argue why this movie was even on some platforms already but the thought of it being thanksgiving only for a few people in the country came to your mind.

As the sound of footsteps brought you out of your mind. Looking in that direction you saw Tsuki as well as Moon Sua walking over in normal clothes as well as having several plates in hand. Handing out plates to each person, you were the last person waiting for his dessert. Tsuki at that time came over and handed you your plate of pie. 

As soon as the plate was on your hand, Tsuki took a seat right next to you. 

“Oppa we are gonna go change. Feel free to start the movie and eat your pie.” 

Soon the living room was occupied by only you as well as the other two girls. Taking a bite of your pie, you could almost cry at how delicious it was. Sua shrieked at how tasty the Apple pie was. Somehow the rest of the Billlie came out in their change of clothes already and got comfortable. 

As the movie played, everyone continued to enjoy this thanksgiving. As you got another bite of pie on your fork, you raised it to take a bite but felt a tap on your shoulder. Looking for the source, you saw it was Tsuki as she kept her mouth wide open for a bite of the food. As you fed her the bite of pie, her wife shot open as she jumped up and down. Seeing how happy Tsuki was from just a bite of sweets made you happy. 

As you all continued to watch the movie, Tsuki seemed to get closer and closer to your arm. Eventually, you felt a head lie down on your shoulder. Small giggles filled your living room as you saw all the other girls looking at you and Tsuki. 

Rolling your eyes, you just look forward to the tv screen and continue to watch the movie. As you fed Tsuki some more of your pie, the girls continued to make whistling sounds towards the two of you. As more time passed, the more comfortable Tsuki got laying on you. The small glances you took at her continued to fill your face with a smile. 

The constant motion from your face must have had some effect on you as your throat began to feel parched. You didn’t want to move but that familiar feeling of thirst was getting to you. Reluctantly, you tapped on Tsuki’s forehead which helped remove her head from your arm. 

“I’m gonna go get a drink. Does anyone want anything?” 

Everyone but Tsuki shook their heads no. 

“Can I get a hot chocolate!?” 

The hyper girl nearly jumped out of her seat as she mentioned the drink. She's really girlfri-. No, you shouldn’t think something like that. 

“Yeah Tsuki. I’ll make us both one.” 

As your feet carried you to your kitchen, your ears picked up giggles and whispers coming from the girl's direction. They did seem to talk to themselves a lot tonight. As you walked around your dirty kitchen, your hand managed to reach the fridge door and open it. 

As your eyes wandered around the barren fridge, you finally saw the thing you were looking for. Pulling out the heavy plastic container, you placed it on the side and looked for some mugs. Thankfully next to your mugs were the hot chocolate packets so you didn’t need to search for them. Placing the items on the counter, reaching back up you got a large glass and placed it down on the counter as well.

Raising the milk jug, you emptied some of its contents and filled the large clear glass. Once filled, the glass returns to your hold as you click to open the microwave. Once open, you placed the glass in the device and closed its door. The repeated beeps and whirl sounds hit your ears as the cup began to spin in the machine. 

While that was going, you found yourself pouring the cocoa mix into the mugs as well as placing the milk gallon back in the fridge. With a bit of spare time, you took the moment to think back on girls. You were really glad they came but you kept wondering why they were all giggling so much today. As you continued to think about the girls, your mind went back to one specific lady. Tsuki was full of smiles and wanted to spend more time with you. 

The bunny was the girl you felt the closest to out of all the girls, but today she was a bit more touchy and feely than normal. You couldn’t complain though, you always had a crush on the young girl. The more time you spent with her, the more you fell for her. Your thoughts were interrupted by the beep of the microwave. 

Pushing the button, the steam coming from the microwave hits your face. Flinching a bit, you waited a few seconds until the glass cooled down. Wrapping your hand around it, you felt the heat from the glass hit your hand but it didn’t burn you. Pulling it out of the machine, you brought the cup above your mugs and began to pour. 

Each mug got filled to the top with warm milk. Using a spoon you had ready, you combined the contents in both mugs until they were perfectly mixed. Once hot chocolate was ready, you grabbed each handle of the mugs and made your way back to the girls.

As you entered the living room, your eyes immediately picked up on the lack of people in it. The only two people here were Tsuki and yourself.

“Wait, where is everyone?”  

“They actually had something to do so they had to head out but I was free so I decided to stay to keep you company for a bit more.” 

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that. All of you already did so much today. I don't want to be a bother to you.” 

“YOU AREN’T A BOTHER!” 

You jumped a bit at how aggressively Tsuki yelled that but you just put it as her being hyper like normal. Taking a seat next to Tsuki, you smiled at her and spoke again. 

“Well, I’m very thankful for you staying. Here is your hot chocolate also.” 

Handing the glass to the young girl, Tsuki began to drink the beverage at a rapid speed. It was surprising as the hot chocolate was still hot, yet she didn’t seem to burn herself. 

“Wow, you must have been thirsty. I’m glad I didn’t make any drinks for the rest of the girls also. It would have been a waste. Also, I’m kinda sad Sua and the rest of the girls didn’t say bye to me.” 

“O-Oh. Don’t worry you will see them again tomorrow.” 

Looking at Tsuki, you saw a small twitch come from her eyebrow. Despite the smile on her face, you could tell Tsuki was hiding a bit of annoyance.

“Tsuki what’s wrong?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m not stupid. I can pick up on the hint of annoyance on your face.” 

The smile that was on the energetic girl’s face disappeared at that moment. 

“Oh, you can pick up on that but not anything else?” 

“What does that mean?” 

“WHY ARE YOU SO DENSE OPPA? CAN’T YOU TELL I LOVE YOU?” 

Those words shocked you at the moment. Was it really what you just heard?

“W-What?” 

“Oppa. I love you. Why haven’t you picked up on this?” 

“I just thought you were touchy with everyone. I mean look at how you act with the members.” 

“I mean yes, I’m very touchy with my members but how many men am I kissing on the cheek and hugging constantly?” 

Taking a look back, you finally noticed it really was only you Tsuki who did those things with. It’s been a while of her doing all those actions with you. 

“Tsuki. I have feelings for you too. How long have you been feeling like this?”

“M-Months. Do you really l-like me too?” 

“Yeah Tsuki. I just thought it was me crushing on you. I guess I really was oblivious.” 

“Yeah, you were. Even the girls could tell. That’s why they even left a bit ago. They wanted me to finally confess to you.” 

“And I’m guessing bringing up other girls would be annoying. I’m sorry Tsuki.” 

You didn’t even get a response as Tsuki wrapped her arms around you. Her tiny frame somehow packed a lot of love. Each second that passed, The more you were taking in small things about her. Her long hair, the scent of roses that came from her body, the softness of the skin on her arms. Despite enjoying the embrace you received from Tsuki, the young girl began to pull away from the hug a bit. 

As Tsuki’s face appeared in front of your face, the smile from earlier filled her face. At that moment your eyes met with Tsuki’s. Those large brown irises of hers mesmerized you with each second that passed. As you continued to look at Tsuki’s eyes, you noticed they seemed to be getting closer and closer until you felt a sensation on your lips. 

Recognizing it as a kiss, you closed your eyes and put your hands on her cheeks. The small kiss quickly became more as your tongue tried to push its way into Tsuki’s mouth. At first, your tongue was met with the bunny’s teeth but as Tsuki felt you trying to get access to her mouth she opened a bit to let you in. 

Once in, your tongue began to fight with Tsuki’s as you fought for dominance. The young girl quickly surrendered as your tongue moved around in her mouth as you wanted. Picking up the subtle taste of chocolate from her mouth somehow made you hungry for more of her. 

Laying Tsuki down on her back, your tongue continued to move around her mouth until you needed to surface for air. Looking down at Tsuki, you could see a smirk appear on the girl's face as she yanked you back down. The sudden aggressiveness from your friend surprised you but you weren’t against it at all. 

With your lips reattached to Tsuki’s, your hand began to move up and touch her leg. At that moment you could feel the soft skin of her thick thighs. As much fun as Kissing Tsuki was, your lips moved to her neck as you began to pepper it with kisses. As much as you wanted to mark the young Idol; you knew she had a photoshoot the next day and couldn’t risk it. 

Tsuki seemed to know this as you reached up and put your face into her hands. 

“Sorry, Oppa. No Marks on my neck but take this shirt off and you can mark up my breast.” 

That offer was one you couldn’t refuse as your hands reached down to her shirt. The light blue from the collar of her shirt went by in a flash as you removed it from her body. The sight of a white bra On Tsuki made your cock twitch from inside your pants. Raising her upper body, Tsuki unclipped her bra and took it off in a rush. 

“I felt that cock move. Hurry up and mark me so we can sleep together.” 

Lowering your face, you put your lips onto her erect nipple. Starting slowly, your mouth began to give the pink nipple small suck's as Tsuki’s mouth released small moans. Despite it being only a short time of you sucking her nipple, you had a different job to do on her breast. Releasing her pink nub from your mouth, you began to give her mound small kisses and licks. 

Soon you began to give her tit small sucks and bites to mark the young girl. Not much effort was needed as her pale skin quickly turned red from all of your sucks and bites. Usually, you were the type of person to savor your sexual experiences but this was just rushed, lust taking over the actions of the two of you. 

Moving to her left breast, you gave it many kisses as well as marked it as its twin. Moving down from her tit, you made your way down her stomach giving it kisses and small licks. Reaching the hem of her shorts, your hands went up and grabbed them from each corner. Pulling down the fabric, you see that you pulled down her panties with the shorts. The blessing of Tsuki’s wet folds was exposed to you, making you feel thirsty. 

Spread open her legs a bit more, you could see the juices leaking out of her snatch. Your body just reacted on its own as your digits spread her lips. A small gasp left her mouth as she looked at you. Impatience got the best of you as your index finger pushed its way into her pussy. The resistance you met was quickly gone as you pulled it back and pushed your finger back in. 

The movements were still a bit slow but once you pushed another finger in, your speed picked up. The sound of her wet pussy got you harder and your body craved her even more. The fluids that leaked from Tsuki went down your arm a bit. Finally giving in to your thirst, your head went down to her folds and began to lick it. 

The moans from before continued as you began to give Tsuki stimulus from both your fingers and mouth. The movement from your fingers helped expose a small but that was down in her private parts. Recognizing what you were seeing, your tongue quickly began to flick her clit, causing her to jump all around. You weren’t doing much but the young girl was squirming all around from your tongue and mouth. 

The smell of lavender filled your nose as you continued to eat her pussy. Soon the girl's movements became errant as she began to pant more and more from your actions. 

“Oppa, fuck that’s so good. Keep eating my pussy, please. Quench your thirst with my juices.” 

Those words were music to your ears as you improved your efforts to make her cum. Your speed increased with each second that passed, indulging in her tastes. As you reached the best of your efforts, Tsuki finally started to yell profanities all around. A sudden rush of fluids hit your face as you drank as much of her juices as possible. You nearly drowned from how much of her fluids shot out of her pussy. 

Pulling your face back a bit, you began to lick the remaining liquid off of her thick thighs until there was nothing left. Pulling back from her legs, you finally get a chance to breathe and see your handy work. The Japanese idol was panting for air after that orgasm. The smile that was all over Tsuki’s face made you happy. Despite seeing the innocent expression on her face, your dick just continued to twitch in your pants. 

The smile on Tsuki’s face turned into a smirk as you began to grind yourself on her leg. 

“Thank you for that. Now stop your teasing and pull that cock out.” 

You didn’t need to be told twice as your hands undid your belt and pulled your pants down. Standing back up, you removed the pants from around your legs and pulled your shirt off. The sudden wet sensation was felt on your chest as Tsuki began to kiss you there. Moving down, the young idol began to reach closer and closer till you felt a small kiss on your tip. 

Goosebumps went all over your body as you felt a small warm hand wrap around your shaft. Nothing needed to be said as Tsuki began to stroke your dick. Such a basic action from Tsuki felt amazing. Maybe it was the thought that an adorable girl was doing such a nasty thing with you but it didn’t matter. After a few more strokes from the idol, you heard a little gasp leave her mouth. 

“Wow, Oppa. You’re already leaking. Is this for me?”

Starting from your balls, Tsuki began to give them a few small sucks to get as much of your Precum out. From your balls, Tsuki brought her tongue to your shaft, moving up and down, teasing you. Just as you were about to say something, a tight sensation surrounded the head of your length. As your tongue did earlier, Tsuki’s began to move all around your cock head. 

With a few small slurps, the girl began to savor as much of your precum as she could. With no warning, Tsuki shoved your length down her throat. You nearly exploded down her tunnel as Tsuki pulled her head back gasping for air. The young girl was always such a sweet girl, but right now she was acting like your common street whore. 

Bobbing her head, Tsuki continued to fill her mouth with your cock, not giving you a chance to breathe. Your hands seem to have moved on their own as you grabbed two handfuls of her hair and began to move more aggressively in her tunnel. With these handles, you moved your hips faster and faster till small tears came out of Tsuki’s eyes. 

Slowly your peak began to arrive as you tried to move as fast as possible. The keyword was tried as Tsuki pulled her head off of your length. You were disappointed but the brown-eyed girl had other plans. 

Getting on all fours, Tsuki looked back at you and shook her ass at you. 

“The only place your load gets to go is my pussy. So hurry and shove that thing in me.” 

Following the Girl’s instructions, you lined your length up with her folds and pushed your way into her cavern. Despite all you felt from Tsuki earlier, this restricting feeling from her walls was the best of all. Moving slowly, your length filled Tsuki to the brim as she gasped. 

Hitting the end of her walls, the small girl looked back at you and just smirked. 

“Stop being gentle and fuck my brains out.” 

You weren’t going to say no to that. Pulling back, your length began to enter and exit her pussy. The speed at which you fucked her continued to pick up as the girl began to copy your movements. When you pulled back, Tsuki pulled her hips as well. Once you pushed your length back in, the girl threw her ass down on top of your shaft. 

Putting your hands on her hips, you continued to fuck the young idol nonstop. Raising her upper body, Tsuki then got closer to your face. Puckering her lips, you reattached your lips to her giving her the affection she wanted. 

Despite the nasty activities you were doing with Tsuki, the small kisses you gave her made your heart flutter. You knew you weren’t gonna let this girl go anywhere but for now, you had to reach your own peak. Despite knowing you shouldn’t, your lips moved to Tsuki’s neck and began to kiss and suck on it. 

The young Idol seemed to want to stop you but the sensation was too much for her as she began to pant harder and harder with each kiss. The speed at which Tsuki matched your movements got messed up as the girl moved erratically. With your hands still on her hips, you stop her and fucked her at your pace. 

The rapid pace seemed to be enough as the girl began to yell. 

“O-Oppa I’m gonna cu-“ 

Her sentence didn’t even finish as the young woman shook all over. A rush of fluids hit your couch as well as your legs. The young girl nearly dropped dead from her orgasm. Holding her up with your strength, you let the young girl rest. Peppering her neck with more kisses you began to leave more marks, showing she is now yours. 

A minute passes as Tsuki comes back to her senses, moving her hips again. 

“Sorry, Oppa. It’s your turn to cum now.” 

“Hey, we can just stop here Tsuki. I can tell you're tired.” 

The warm feeling around your cock left as Tsuki pulled her pussy off your length. Expecting Tsuki to just rest, you get ready to clean up. Laying her back on the couch, Tsuki looks back at you and smirks once more. 

“I want the load in me. I just want you to look into my eyes as you shoot it in me. I’m a bunny, right? Come fuck me like one.” 

Lining your rod back up with her folds, you began to slowly enter her pussy. A sudden slap to your ass made you fill Tsuki instantly. You were already close all this time. In your mind, you knew you wouldn't last much longer but you were still gonna have fun.

Your thrusts continued as they did earlier, fucking the bunny. Raising her upper body once more, Tsuki wrapped her arms around your body and put her lips next to your ear. 

“I said fuck me like a bunny Oppa. What, can't you do that properly?” 

A fire grew in you as you began to strengthen your thrusts into her. The small pants from Tsuki were music to your ears as the idol continued to encourage you. 

“Oppa. I’m such a sweet-looking girl but with you, I’m just a bunny in heat. I want the load in my pussy so fucking hurry and d-drop it in me.” 

The filth that left Tsuki’s mouth was amazing as you used all your remaining strength to fuck her tunnel. 

“Y-You really are like a bunny in heat. Asking me to cum in you. Well, get r-ready then.” 

A few more seconds passed as the gut feeling in your stomach rose to its peak. The throbbing from your length made the bunny gasp. With one final thrust, you shoved your length into her. The sudden shots of your load began to fill Tsuki to the brim with your semen. Your neck began to get small kisses and bites from Tsuki as she marked you as her own as well. 

It honestly could have been seven shots of semen that caked from your cock. Despite being inside of the bunny still, your load began to leak out of her cavern. Finally, your peak ended as you dropped down on the couch, and on top of Tsuki. 

A minute passed as you lifted your upper body off Tsuki. Her face was full with a smile as she began to laugh. Your own laughter as well as hers filled the room. Pulling your length out of Tsuki, your load began to leak even more out of the bunny’s cavern. 

Once the two of you relaxed a bit more, you pulled Tsuki closer and kissed her on the lips. 

“God. I never expected you to really act like a bunny in heat.” 

“Oh, that was just the beginning Oppa. Your little bunny girlfriend will have all the time in the world to show you how wild she can get.” 

Picking up Tsuki, you ran to your bedroom to continue the rest of your night with the idol. 

The next day came as you heard your alarm go off. Next to you, Tsuki slowly began to wake up as well and hug you. 

“Back to work Oppa. Let’s get ready.” 

The rest of your morning goes by quickly as you get ready and eat breakfast. And you may have also had a quickie in the shower. 

Walking up to the door, you unlocked the door and entered with Tsuki. Making your way to the sound of laughter, you saw all of the girls eating breakfast in the kitchen. Looking over, they saw your hand holding Tsuki’s and began to yell. 

“Finally! Our plan worked! Thank you ladies for leaving early with me to get them to talk.” 

“Yeah yeah Sua. Now finish up your breakfast and let's go to work.” 

“Got it Oppa! I hope your thanksgiving was great then!.” 

Looking over at Tsuki all you could do is laugh and nod your head. 

“Yeah, Sheon. That was a great holiday.” 

[thedemonfella]

THE SILLIEST FUCKING DREAM JUST HAPPENED TODAY WHEN I TOOK A NAP AND I WANNA TYPE IT OUT BEFORE I FORGET TOO MUCH OF THE DETAILS. Okay so in this dream i was the scout and was in a match a lot of it was just me firing and running like scout is known to. I was getting chased by a pyro and accidentally gave away my spies position (which was the blu spy) and he was so pissed that before he died from the flames he tried to slap me. I was just hiding in the corner next to some lockers and got out scot free. Cut to a bit later i was at a fairly big american styled dinner on a date with the red sniper. We walked into a room with a load of tables away from the bar area. There's a tv in there next to one of the tables WHICH THE FUCKING MUTANT NINJA TURTLES are at watching the tv i think there was a birthday cake and it was one of their birthdays. We sit at a table kind of far from them at the back. Instead of being a normal person sniper sticks some of his fingers in my mouth and i though of uh... getting a bit silly but of course the ninja turtles are there and they are minors so instead i just sat there biting at snipers fingers and he just let me do it with no questions. What a nice date. Cut to later Medic and heavy in an ambulance drop me off near my house and medic almost talks to me like i'm his dumb son saying "now you tell me if zhis sniper is any trouble." I walk down the road and SUDDENLY ASCEND OUT MY BODY and suddenly i'm seeing the entire history of this immortal within his cyan colored species as he is personally ranting to me about how he though he was destined to rule his species and went up to the leader like a bitch saying how he was entitled to it. The current leader gets so pissed that he banishes him from their land. I then wake up on the ice with multiple characters from many medias around me and apparently we are celebrating christmas and some of them are ice skating. Suddenly REAPER FROM OVERWATCH comes in singing slurring his voice and ruins everything by turning the place into a bootcamp and bullying the shit out of everyone. And that my friends is how reaper fucked up christmas. And then I woke up in a cold sweat.

[beardedmrbean]

ASSIS BRASIL, Brazil (AP) — Dozens of migrants sleep in a mosquito-infested six-bedroom wooden shelter in the Brazilian Amazon, their dreams of a better life in the U.S. on hold because of President Joe Biden’shalt on asylum.

Johany “Flaca” Rodríguez, 48, was ready to leave behind the struggles of life in Venezuela. She has been waiting in the shelter holding 45 people in Assis Brasil, a city of 7,000 residents bordering Peru, because others told her how difficult the journey to the U.S. has become.

Migrants, police, officials and analysts say Biden’s actions have caused a wait-and-see attitude among migrants who are staying in Latin America’s biggest economy, at least for now. Like anywhere along migrants’ routes toward hoped-for new lives, local communities are finding it hard to meet new populations’ needs.

After sleeping on dirty mattresses and in half-torn hammocks, and eating rice, beans and ground beef, Rodríguez decided this month that she and her dog Kiko would spend a few weeks with friends in the southern state of Rio Grande do Sul.

Wearing a headband, leggings and a small backpack, Rodríguez woke early to walk more than 100 kilometers (62 miles) for two days to a nearby city of 27,000 residents. There, she hopes to make some money and take a bus to Brazil’s south, then reach the U.S. one day.

“I have to stay here until it is safer to go,” Rodríguez said. “I am not super happy about staying (in Brazil), but that’s what I can do.”

Brazil saw waves of migrants passing through to North America in the first part of the year. There were Indians, Bengalis, Senegalese and Nigerians, among others, said Rêmullo Diniz, the coordinator of Gefron, Acre state’s police group for border operations,

When Biden said he was going to crack down, many people in those groups began staying in their countries instead of heading to Latin America, Brazilian government officials and independent analysts said. For citizens of South American countries, it’s easier. Brazil allows residents of its 10 neighboring nations to stay visa-free for up to two years.

The Biden administration said last week that arrests for illegal crossings from Mexico fell more than 40% since asylum processing was temporarily suspended at the U.S. border with Mexico on June 5. Arrests fell below 2,400 a day for the first time during Biden’s presidency.

Acre state offers a snapshot of the attitude among many migrants, and raises the possibility that Acre and other resting spots will become long-term hosts.

The city of Assis Brasil has little to offer to migrants but the wooden shelter where Rodríguez was staying and a school gymnasium where 15 men can sleep. There are two small hotels and a bus stop used by vans crossing into Peru. It has five restaurants scattered along its main road, two grocery shops and an ice cream parlor that has Amazon flavors like local fruits cupuacu and tapereba. Migrants frequently beg for money at the city’s only square.

There are three daily flights into state capital Rio Branco, where 21-year-old Jay came from India en route to the U.S. to study engineering. He declined to disclose his hometown and his last name.

Wearing a white cap reading “RIO DE JANEIRO,” he said that “it would take too long if I just sat and waited,” in India.

“It is a long trip, very risky. But it is my dream to study there and I will accomplish it,” he said.

Brazil’s westernmost state is a remote enclave in the middle of the rainforest, used by tourists as part of an alternative route to visit Cuzco, once the capital of the Inca empire in Peru.

One of Assis’ main attractions for locals is sitting on the benches of its main square Senador Guiomard to watch soccer on TV and eat barbecue. The small city’s founders came to the Amazon in 1908 to start a rubber plantation that 50 years later became a city. Not much has changed since, despite the BR-317 road that runs by it, the only land connection between Brazil and Peru. When residents of Assis Brasil are bored, and they often are, they go to neighboring Peruvian city of Iñapari to have a drink, generally a pisco sour.

Venezuelan migrant Alexander Guedes Martinez, 27, said he will stay as long as needed to get more cash and maybe in a year go to Houston, where he has family. He came with his 17-year-old partner and their 5-month-old baby.

At the Assis Brasil shelter where they were staying last month, he said that he hopes “to go (back) to Venezuela and get key documents to try to cross in a better fashion.”

“I want to be cautious because of my daughter,” he said. “Being here helps.”

Acre state’s patrol has about 40 agents to inspect 2,600 kilometers (1,615 miles) of border with Peru and Bolivia. A main road connects the three countries, but local police say that many migrants also move through the forest, some of them carrying drugs.

Cuban migrant Miguel Hidalgo, 52, tried to get to the U.S. years ago. He left the island to Suriname, then came to Brazil and doesn’t plan on leaving any time soon.

“I like Brazil. I have been here for a short time, but people are not prejudiced against me, people are lovely,” he said. “I want to live like a human being. I am not asking for any riches. I want to live in tranquility, help my family in Cuba.”

Acre Gov. Gladson Camelli said in a statement to the AP that he is worried about a bigger influx of South American migrants coming soon.

“Our government has tried to do its part in the humanitarian support,” he said.

Assis Brasil’s Mayor Jerry Correia also is bracing for more demand. City hall is feeding about 60 migrants every day and voters are feeling upset in a year of mayoral elections.

“This is all on our back. This is a policy that has to be handled by the federal government,” Correia said. “People don’t know what happens on our border. We need to be seen.”

[breezytealy]

Vividly dreamt last night that they'd made a cheesy, early 00's style live-action "dragon ball next gen" TV show, and TruTen was canon?

It was completely Americanised, though the cast were of Asian heritage

The quality and shooting style was very power rangers/supernatural/charmed style - cheesy TV with a small effects budget, but the show owned it

There was a theme song - it was very chill and plodding, grungy-but-00s, "bah ba ba buh bah badah bah ba bad ba bada" with deep female vocals. I didn't grab any other lyrics than "oh yeah" at the end of the lines

In the episode I was "watching" we opened on some big monster peril in an American town, on a wide "Main Street" - the super powers were very fan-video After Effects shimmery/a slapped on correction layer with lots of reds and oranges. Trunks and Goten were late 20s.

Trunks was just a nickname and his real name was Robert???

He also only had an electric blue(!) section of hair on one side, but still with the parted style

There was a scene where Trunks and Goten were imagining how they could have met as adults, with Goten describing (and us seeing) this elaborate story of Trunks saddled with a baby (dressed as Darth Vader to represent Vegeta/Briefs fam ruthlessness ig) from his totes beard marriage picking up hitchhiker Goten, and Goten being smitten with this attentive Dad, and then Trunks liking him back but outcast from his family for doing so and for abandoning his life plan. Trunks and Goten then lived happily ever after renting cramped city apartments and dancing in laundrettes. When asked what he thought how they could have met, all Trunks could imagine was seeing Goten walk by and saying "hey dtf? I'm that Trunks" and Goten saying "aite bet" which we, as the viewers, apparently knew was more realistic given their characterisation in the show, but guiltily Trunks just says "oh yeah, same" to placate Goten. (Why, brain?)

The Gravity Chamber was instead generated by a portable device and generated over a domed area. Trunks was sword training in Grecian temple ruins atop a grassy hill with the daytime city as the backdrop. Someone from the Mayor's office disturbed him and in his panic to ensure the civ didn't get hurt, Trunks accidentally hit the boost button and trapped himself to the ground for a bit, again with shimmery and vibrating effects.

As Trunks recovered and was distracted in conversation, an Evil Lady TM stole the gravity bubble(?) machine. Presumably she tested it on a minion in part of the episode my brain skipped over, as she was later giving a shoulder massage to an anthro red squirrel (full squirrel head with hard to read, animalistic expressions, plus human body) and apologising profusely to him.

Anyway sadly that's when I woke up. During the dream I was so psyched for the casual queer rep and for the show in general that I thought it was real for a good thirty seconds, before frantically rolling over and typing up notes before it faded LMAO

[wintersandthebeast]

20. Redfield

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Link to Master List

Just before he woke, Ethan’s dreams were punctuated with a faraway voice.  Eva, calling out in German.  Then the pounding on the door commenced.  Ethan bolted up, realizing he’d broken into a cold sweat.  When the pounding continued, he moved from pure instinct, sliding from his bed, past Rose’s crib, to the window.  It was the front parlor door, visible from the window.  From this angle Ethan could see the dark figure, and parked on the gravel in the front, the BATT UMG.  Behind it, shadows of the team, in full tactical gear.  

Oh, shit.

He swiftly grabbed Rose, remembering the trauma of that night when Chris took her from him.   Ethan turned and entered the hallway.  As he ran out the door, Ethan almost crashed into Alina, Maricara’s oldest daughter.  They’d spent the evening earlier discussing American TV shows.  Now Ethan met her eyes, saw the fear in them.  He spoke urgently, but kept his voice low, as the pounding continued.  

“I need you to take Rose upstairs, and don’t come down until I come and get you.”  He wanted to say so much more, but there was no time.  She took the grumpy, awake redhead and dashed toward the back staircase.  

Ethan bolted forward, hearing a door slam further down the hall.  Shit .  Karl was up. 

Now Ethan, barefoot and only in pajama pants, skidded around the dining room corner, flew through the parlor, and lunged toward the door.  When he pulled it open, already knowing who was on the other side, he pushed Chris backwards, hissing a venom-filled, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Chris Redfield’s light eyes sparkled when he saw Ethan, but he only had time to marvel in awe for seconds before a loud commotion was heard and his glance fell over Ethan’s shoulder; Karl had flung his hammer onto the dining table as he sped around the corner and the large antique wooden top broke.  

Everything on the table crashed to the floor as Karl now took the living room in two leaps, drawing his hammer back.  Shirtless and with nearly glowing eyes, he looked like an angry pagan God as he advanced.  

Chris scowled and took quick steps back; Ethan turned and put his hands on Karl’s shoulders, as if it would do any good.  The pair slid across the doorway as though Karl were a steam engine and Ethan was the wind; soon they were in the yard.  Ethan had succeeded in blundering Heisenberg’s backswing; Karl flared his nostrils and pushed past him.  But  in the time it took him to pull the hammer back again, Chris and, behind him, his team, had their weapons drawn. 

The sound of this distracted Heisenberg, but only momentarily.  Within moments the hammer was held up, began to spin, and a sound drummed in Ethan’s ears.  He could feel the magnetic field.  Before he could get between the two men again, all of the guns were yanked into the air, Heisenberg now laughing like an amused child as he magnetized the triggers, sending a spray of bullets into the air.  Chris made an exhausted sound and snapped at his team to get back.  They heeded the warning, but Karl wasn’t done.  He tried to magnetize their armor, realized it had been reinforced with carbon, and instead turned his rage to Chris.  

Redfield now withdrew a large knife, and readied himself in a combat stance.  He spoke directly to Heisenberg, who was now melting the remaining bullets with inductive heat, and tearing the weapons apart while he bellowed. 

“I JUST WANT TO TALK TO ETHAN!” Chris yelled over the uproar.  

“YOU DESTROYED MY FACTORY, YOU MOTHER FUCKER,” Karl spat in the loud, metallic-toned echo.  Lightning sparked from the man’s body and Chris took another step back.  Ethan finally saw the moment where he could get between them without connecting with the deadly hammer, and he took the chance.  Then he had an idea, and pressed into Karl’s shoulders with his palms again, sending them to the liminal space.

The world looked the same, but Chris was gone.  Karl stared into the emptiness, confused, and then glared at Ethan.  The murderous stare on his face showed nothing other than pure insanity, unhinged rage, but Ethan held steady--he couldn’t see Chris.  Ethan was in two worlds now, and he knew that Redfield and the others would hear and see them.  “Easy, big guy, it’s me.  Easy.”  He spoke as if he were talking to an animal--more or less, he was.  

“Karl.”  He put one hand over the man’s heart.  It almost burned to the touch.  “I need to talk to him.  And--” he raised his voice when Karl tossed his head at this, “I need to do this now.  I have to…. We have to end it.”

“I’m gonna end it,” Karl growled.  “Put me back, Ethan.” 

“Heisenberg,” Ethan said shrilly, and he realized Eva was nearby, watching with a mixture of interest and fear.  “Please.”

“Put me back ,” Karl growled dangerously.  Ethan frowned, and then said in a less patient voice, “Remember, I’ll be here after whatever you do.  Depending on what you do.  And I’ll have to deal with it.” 

This actually gave the raging man pause, and they finally made eye contact again.  Heisenberg seemed to understand the gravity of what Ethan said, and his eyes softened.  Only for a moment.  He took one hand from the hammer and gripped Ethan’s elbow, pulling him into a halfhearted embrace.  It was an agreement.  And then…

They were back.  

Karl rounded on Chris, smirked at the man’s long, carbon-fiber blade, and then waved his hands toward the UMG in a grabbing motion.  Chris and Ethan watched rather helplessly as the vehicle twisted with a sickening crunch, glass splintering, and when it was compressed into a shred of what it had been, Karl squeezed his hands together, wringing them.  The vehicle exploded, no doubt from more heat pressure, and now Karl flung his hands and the debris flew toward the rest of the team, who were already fleeing for cover.  The large chunk of twisted metal rolled across the gravel, coming to rest fifty feet from where it had started.  

As the vehicle smoldered, lighting Karl’s face and torso, giving his skin an orange glow, he glared at Redfield before moving his lips almost into Ethan’s ear.  He never broke eye contact with the other brunette as he growled, “You have ten minutes.”  

Ethan, a rather embarrassed look on his face, turned to Heisenberg and nodded.  

Now Heisenberg forced himself to look from Chris to Ethan, his expression unreadable as he gazed at the blond’s lips.  His voice was less of a growl, but still full of fury when he added in his sing-song Trans-Atlantic, “I’ll…put on some coffee.”

 Chris looked shocked, appalled at the small smile Ethan stole to Karl as the other stalked off toward the house.  When Heisenberg was far enough away, Ethan stared mutely at his former friend and finally began, “Do..you want to come in?”

“Ethan, if you need us to get you out of here--”

The blond smirked in a way Chris had never seen, as though he were full of secrets.  Now Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, shook his head and tried again, “Let’s go in, I’m cold.”

“Yeah, all right,” Redfield mustered, and the pair turned back toward the manor.  As they walked away from the smoking, melted wreckage, Umber Eyes called out, “We’ll uh…stay and watch the car?”

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

Chris looked even more tired than when they were in the village together.  Ethan fell rather than sat onto the couch, and Chris warily lowered himself, removing a backpack and sheathing his knife while glancing toward the kitchen.  Finally, he studied Ethan.  Redfield didn’t mince words.  

“Ethan, I’ve been…I can’t tell you how much I regret not telling you about Mia and Miranda.  She moved so fast, faster than my team and I could….” He threw up a gloved hand, shaking his head, and Ethan simply stared in response.  “There’s no excuse.  I was worried you had been infected, Rose too.  I just wanted to get the hell out of there.  I didn’t know….I didn’t mean.”

“I understand,” Ethan said honestly, but his expression was contemplative.  

“Where’s Rose?  Is she okay?”  The sincerity of the man’s questions, his concern, had an unexpected softening effect on Ethan.  He remembered Chris then, as he really was.  Not the Chris that he’d thought….those long, confusing nights where his entire sense of being was one betrayal after another.  One abuse after the next.  Karl would utterly ring Ethan’s neck if he said it, but the two men were a lot alike.  Both with good intentions, sometimes mixed effects.  Bruteish in their methods of protection.    

“She’s fine,” Ethan said proudly.  His heart was never fuller than when he said those words, even though they carried an edge.  An unspoken, even though you used us to bait Miranda with her and she was used in a horrifying ritual. 

“Ethan…are you?”  Chris leaned forward, and glanced toward the kitchen.  “Heisenberg…”

“--saved me,” Ethan interrupted.  “I know how that sounds.  But I’m in the right place.”

Chris’s skeptical look transcended all human language, but Ethan continued to stare at him almost as if accepting a challenge.  

“And,” Ethan added, “You didn’t finish the job.  The center of the village, under all of that?”

“I know, we saw,” Chris muttered, actually rubbing his temple.  “Had eyes on the ravine that night…”

Ethan continued with a slight frown.  “But…the center is still alive.  I don’t even know if I’d be alive if it wasn’t, at this point.”

“I know,” Chris sighed.  “Ethan…listen.  I didn’t come here to drag you and Rose away.  I didn’t even come here to…” he glanced past Ethan again.  “...deal with anything or anybody from the village.  As far as the US government, Romanian government, The EU, INTERPOL, the BSAA and all other entities are concerned, this area is neutralized.  I had already sent them the footage of your death at Miranda’s hand, and we have the video of Rose…of her..…”

“The ceremony?” Ethan said in a disgusted tone.  Chris nodded.  

“You’ve been through enough for a lifetime, and I’m…I’m sorry that I had anything to do with that, Ethan. I really am.  It’s time for you to live your life, for you.” 

Alina entered the room with a tray; on it were cups of coffee, creamer, and sugar.  The young woman’s eyes were wide as she took in the sight of Chris Redfield, and she gently placed the tray near them.  Karl appeared in the doorway, still shirtless, still seething, and glared at Chris until Alina went to his side.  

“Baby still sleepin’?” he growled, and she nodded.  Karl put a hand on her shoulder and tossed his head.  “Thanks.  Get some sleep.  Ethan will come get her.”

The girl looked relieved at this, and disappeared from view.  Now Karl stalked slowly into the room and sat across from both men, draping his arms over the chair back and one leg on his other knee.  

“Go on, it’s not poisoned,” he said conversationally.  

“Heisenberg,” Ethan warned, and then turned back to Chris.  “Time for me to live my life?”

“I know Miranda is still, in some way, alive.  I don’t have all the answers yet on if she’s a threat.  I’m being told I can’t spend any more time on this case, but I won’t give up. I’ll help any way I can.”  Now Chris met Heisenberg’s eyes.  He sighed, exhaling as though he wished he hadn’t looked at the other.  

“Somethin’s off,” Karl speculated in his dangerously sing-song tune, and reached for the coffee, holding a cup near his nose as he reclined again.  “There’s a reason the government isn’t upset about losin’ Rose.”

Ethan lowered his brows at the engineer, and the scowl made its way to Chris.  Not only was Heisenberg cripplingly (refreshingly) honest himself, he also had a way of seeing through other people.  Ethan wondered if seeing the glaring truth of everyone around him was one of the reasons Heisenberg was so reclusive.  It made the blond feel even happier that the engineer was so fascinated with him.  But then, Ethan didn’t fucking keep secrets and string people along in ways that fucked with their head.  

“He’s right,” Chris stated matter-of-factly.  “I think you know why there’s no order to comb the wreckage and gather the cells of whatever they can get their hands on.”

Ethan was silent for a moment, and then said with an inhale, “They already have samples.”

“They’re already utilizing samples,” Chris corrected, and Karl stroked his beard.  “This project predates all of us…and I’ll have other places to be, sooner than I’d like.”

Ethan wished the coffee he was drinking were whiskey.  It hurt to hear the truth, but he’d always known, ever since Louisiana.  He sensed a deep exhaustion from Redfield, and his steely glance actually faltered as he thought for a moment what the other had gone through.  It must be hell, Chris’s reality.  

Redfield now stared at Karl oddly, and then back to Ethan.  “There’s one more thing, Ethan.” 

When he got no reply except a rapt audience, Chris did his usual--a short, clipped sentence with no emotion.  “Mia…she’s.”  He met Ethan’s gaze.  “She’s gone.” 

Ethan felt as though he’d been punched.  His breathing changed abruptly and the coffee cup left his hand; shaking, it tipped on the marble table and he stared past Chris and into…somewhere else.  Heisenberg’s gaze was sharp, and it landed squarely on Ethan, while Chris sighed loudly.  

“She was going to come back to the States with us.  We needed to get her her meds, and she went into the pharmaceutical lab sanctioned for our project.  She uh…” now Chris’s resolve seemed to wear out and his gaze went to the spilled coffee on the floor.  Ethan was hugging himself, hands wrapped around his elbows as if he were freezing.  

“She’d researched, Ethan.  She made plans for this.  It’s…you, she.. can’t just…” You can’t just kill yourself, it’s not that easy , Ethan interpreted from the silence.  He had been through enough ‘should have dieds’ to know.  Now he put one hand over his mouth and squeezed his own jaw.  “She knew the chemicals in the lab and…we didn’t find…it was the next day.  I’m sorry.” 

Ethan now nodded, dazed, and his vision blurred.  He sensed more than saw the dark form of Heisenberg leave his chair and slink to his other side on the couch, draping an arm forward protectively.  Chris forced his gaze back to Ethan, but at the shocked look on the blond’s face, he turned his focus to the backpack at his feet.  

“The night,” Ethan mumbled, and Karl tilted his head as if trying to listen better.  “The other night, that I told you about.  The…dread.”

Karl had no words, and his expression was impassive, but he rubbed the blond’s back silently.  Ethan blinked rapidly again.  “Rose…she wouldn’t stop crying.  I should have known, I--”

“Ethan,” Chris interrupted, with a painful shake of his head.  “This had nothing to do with you.  Mia would have been dead a long time ago if it wasn’t for you.  And she knew I couldn’t protect her anymore, Ethan.  Mia has a past that goes back farther than you know.”  He sounded almost angry, as though he hadn’t quite forgiven Mia for what she was making him do.  Chris shook his head, resetting and steadying his breath.  

“She…left this, and said it was for you.  There was a note.”  Chris pushed the backpack over.  “I didn’t go through it all, but a lot of it is research.  On Eveline.  On Miranda.   I’d rather it be lost here than have to make its way back Stateside anyway.”  This last sentence was full of venom.  Ethan took the backpack with no emotion, placing it by the couch and immediately looking toward blank space again.  

Finally, the blond seemed to remember his voice and manners.  “Thank you for--telling me.”  

“You’re gonna get through this,” Redfield said with more conviction than he’d said anything so far.  “You and Rose, you’re gonna be fine.  Jesus Ethan, it’s so good to see you.  I didn’t think I’d ever get to tell you any of this.  I should have trusted you.  I should have told you.  And no matter how or what…” he gestured, indicating he knew ‘other’ forces were at play, “...reason you’re here, I’m thankful.”

Ethan couldn’t quite say the same, but he nodded anyway, trying hard to keep up mentally.  Chris stood, then Karl bounced upward, and Ethan found his legs.  

“I hope it’s okay if I check up on you sometime,” Chris offered, his blues drifting toward Karl, who was shaking his head vehemently. 

“Yeah, of course,” Ethan breathed as Karl intensified his head shaking.  

“I’m gonna go,” Redfield said awkwardly, already backing out the door, but he paused in the doorway, where Ethan stood bracing himself against the frame as though he might tip over.  Chris risked the ire of Heisenberg when he pulled the man into a firm hug.  Ethan found himself reciprocating, and it took every ounce of his willpower to not burst into tears there in the doorway with his face hidden in Chris’s coat.

When the two parted, Karl glared after Chris and then threw out a sour, “Watch the driveway…” hand gesture, “...lotsa bumps.”  

Chris raised his eyebrows sarcastically as he turned away.  The door closed, and the team was left in the dark.  

“Sounds like that went well,” Tundra quipped.  Chris didn’t pause in walking away from the home.  “Can we get the hell out of here and never come back?”

She pressed, “Is he really …okay, in there? With that..? Thing?  Man?”

Chris looked up at the waning moon.  “I don’t think there’s anybody who’d protect Ethan more furiously, if that’s what you mean.”  

[modern-inheritance]

Vivid dreams about the future Eragon tv show

I had extremely vivid long dreams last night but the thing is it was me having vivid dreams, waking up in them, writing a tumblr post about what the dream was, realizing the dream was a vivid dream, then going back to sleep in the dream to dream more of the vivid dream I had dreamed within the dream and I…I don’t know what’s real anymore.

The dream inside the dream was that a trailer for the Disney+ Eragon show came out and it was bad. And then woke up to take my dog out but made sure I was holding her collar because I felt like my roommate’s cats had escaped and one of them had, so I scooped him up (it was Jack, which should have tipped me off because Jack HATES being picked up) and put him in a dog crate and put Gabe in a dog crate too because they kept getting out.

I guess I sat down in front of a tv at a combination of Nancy’s house (much older friend. I only say her house because her husband/partner was there) and Mama Cathy’s house and the new Eragon show was on the tv.

And oh man it was BAD. Like it was weird as all hell and BAD. Half the time elves didn’t have pointed ears, which I later griped to Mama about because I said it was something we hated in the movie. Eragon looked like a brown haired but less strong jawed Ed Spellers or however his name was, Islanzadi was bald for some reason? Like got her head reshaved in the dream? Durza had some dope tattoos on his face Ngl. 

Speaking of faces that was some pandemic in the elves where the first born male of the houses got sick and would die and for some reason we learned this by an elf in a crowd protesting another elf’s imprisonment at Gil’ead got shot in the chest with an arrow and  Arya and Faolin and/or Glenwing saw a message on the arrow that they had killed him twice now, which caused some confusion but when they peeled his hood away from the side of his face there were like...teeth and an extra lipless mouth in his cheek that he apparently had not been aware of and freaked out about. Which was apparently some part of the disease? It was all very Doomsday (2008 movie) and had elements of the tv show version of The Last Ship I think.

Anyway, I think there was some plot with like...a serial killer? Eragon didn’t find Saphira’s egg, he found a...large duck plushie? sorta thing? maybe? And oh there were these murders and wait, American Dad! made its way into this one so I won’t go into it. There was a snackbar subplot here too, but it was I think when I was ‘awake’ in the dream. I wanted to buy some Sour Patch Kids, Spree and something else, but the person didn’t understand me and tried to charge me for 73 margaritas that someone else had ordered. I flipped out, the other person paid for their stuff, but then they were packing up the snackbar and I forced them to let me buy the candy. Three packs of candy that totaled $15, which honestly would not have tipped me off to vivid dreaming because that’s like...marching band competition/movie theatre prices and I thought I was at some sort of band competition. 

ANYWAY, back to the Eragon stuff. I kept thinking that the new show was out, so I wrote a long tumblr post about it complaining about everything, pointing out how at the stuff that they gave us for the show made the movie look good in comparison because it actually followed some semblance of the book’s plot. 

Then I realized that I must have been vivid dreaming, so, I added that at the end of the post so that people wouldn’t think I got early access or something, and went about my business. Still saw parts of the show and kept reminding myself that I was vivid dreaming it, but would still add to the post. 

Well I eventually fully woke up and realized ALL of that was a vivid dream. I had a vivid dream about vivid dreaming within my vivid dream. Multiple iterations. Which somehow combined everything I had interacted with or talked about the previous day: I talked to both Nancy and Cathy via text, I’m currently catsitting for my roommate and terrified they’re gonna get out because they know how to open the inner door, I watched American Dad! yesterday, I listened to a few serial killer vids from Lazy Masquerade last night, I saw sour candies in the cupboard but refrained from eating them, I read the wikipedia plot summary for The Last Ship, Islanzadi’s shaved head was probably referencing all the commercials for the new Black Panther movie, etc. And the whole Eragon thing tying it together is probably because I spent yesterday collecting all my copies of the Eragon games. 

So yeah. 

The problem now though is that I think I got up in real life and took my morning meds when my alarm first went off, and then went back to sleep. But uh...I have no idea what the hell to trust. Fun times.

[messyo5]

The Return of The NPS Ranger (Just in My Head)

Whenever I feel like I don't know what to do with my life, as in career-wise, I always resort to USAJOBS and I scroll on there for between an hour or four hours. It depends on my sense of security in myself and my will to close the chrome tabs. I do this because one of the first jobs I can remember wanting so badly was to be a park ranger. I loved their neat brown uniforms with the shiny buttons, and how despite having clipped collars, they wore the polo and slacks like a t-shirt and jeans. I loved the way every last one I had met felt familiar and warm, although I suppose that might be because they are some of the first people I had met who matched my own mother's zeal for forestry and ecology. I loved the way they made me feel included and intelligent and made learning and showing off how I cared for the environment so damn exciting (which makes me sound like a hippie but there's worse titles to have, just don't get me confused with them, there's an overlap but we are most definitely not the same). Regardless, the rangers always left me with new ideas and facts and love and wonderment for the intricacies of the world that quite frankly, blew my tiny mind. I was 10 when my family had the traditional TV show arc of going out west from our suburban east coast city to a couple of the numerous parks in the wild deserts and prairies, but most notably, we went to Yellowstone. This trip was so mind altering for me, its one of those experiences that wakes you up. We all have those, for one reason or another we have experiences that wake up something in you that just was already there, but it was dormant, all it needed was a prod or a push or just a single line or thought to make it roar to life and paint your life in new shades of depth and thought and complexity that you had never before imagined. Seeing the architecture of ancient stone, ribboned plains and flats, crystalline pools of sulfur and bacteria, yeah, you could say I was a little interested. In Yellowstone I talked to a 17 year old girl with long dark hair and a voice like a chickadee. She was the driver for one of the yellow taxis for a tour around some of the park's geysers. There at one of the stops she made, while she was wiping off the silica rich water from the windshield of the car, she gave me advice that changed my world, I could start working as a driver for the national parks and get paid $12 an hour (more than I made in a year as a 10 year old) when I turned 16, and the NPS would give you housing and food allowance, which meant that I could work literally anywhere I wanted to and be independent while I was at it. Getting a job like that became my obsession up until I was ACTUALLY 16, then I had a job at a pizza place and was miserable with myself for that, but also realized that with the newfound American-Dream freedom of turning 16 and being able to drive, I valued the time and gas money I was given during the summer to see my friends. But because of that years have gone by and I still haven't worked for the NPS. But its always nagging me in the back of my mind when I think about taking a new job or different job for the year or over the summer. Something seems so fulfilling to go back to that passion, that thing that woke up a chunk of my being. That's why I find myself scrolling the NPS job listings for hours, contemplating all the different paths my life could take if I chose as far as Washington, Cali, Alaska, or as close to home as the Smokies. The people and places I could meet that would make me feel so full of wonderment and life, and more importantly, the little girls I could tell about the salamanders in Appalachia, watching in nostalgic warmth as her grin unfolds and she asks me to tell her more.