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propertyturkeybesthouse · 1 month ago

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Best House Turkey: The Ultimate Guide to Buying Property in Istanbul: A 2024 Investment Opportunity

Istanbul continues to be one of the most dynamic real estate markets in the world, attracting investors from all over the globe. Whether you're interested in purchasing residential or commercial property, seeking an investment for short-term rental returns, or looking to qualify for Turkish citizenship through property investment, Istanbul has something to offer.

This guide will take you through the key factors influencing Istanbul’s property market, how to navigate the buying process, and the best neighborhoods to invest in for 2024. Here’s everything you need to know:

Overview of the Guide:

Key Benefits of Investing in Istanbul Real Estate Discover the primary advantages that make Istanbul a top destination for real estate investment, including its strategic location, booming economy, and strong rental yields.

Istanbul’s Real Estate Market Outlook for 2024 Learn about the projected trends in Istanbul’s property market for 2024, including price increases and growing demand in suburban areas.

Top Neighborhoods to Invest in Explore the best neighborhoods to invest in Istanbul based on factors like development potential, rental yields, and capital appreciation.

Step-by-Step Guide to Buying Property in Istanbul A detailed, easy-to-follow process to guide you through buying property in Istanbul, from research to completion.

Legal and Financial Considerations for Foreign Investors Get familiar with the legal and financial steps involved in buying property in Turkey, including tax obligations and financing options.

Why Istanbul Remains a Prime Investment Location Understand the factors that make Istanbul a long-term investment hub, including tourism, government developments, and steady capital growth.

FAQs Find answers to common questions about buying property in Istanbul, from citizenship to financing and taxes.

1. Key Benefits of Investing in Istanbul Real Estate

Istanbul’s real estate market offers several advantages that make it a top investment destination. Below are the key reasons why purchasing property in Istanbul in 2024 is an appealing option for foreign investors.

1.1 Booming Economy and Increasing Demand

As Turkey's financial and cultural capital, Istanbul has a rapidly growing economy. The city's diversified economy, which includes sectors such as technology, tourism, and finance, continues to fuel demand for both residential and commercial properties. As the population rises, so does the need for more housing and business spaces, ensuring high demand in the real estate market.

1.2 Strategic Location

Istanbul’s position as a bridge between Europe and Asia is a major asset. This strategic location not only benefits trade and business but also makes Istanbul a magnet for foreign investors. The ease of access to both continents and the city’s growing transportation networks, such as the new airport and metro systems, make it an ideal location for investment.

1.3 High Rental Yields

For investors focused on rental income, Istanbul is highly lucrative. The city offers attractive rental yields, particularly in high-demand areas such as Besiktas, Kadikoy, and Beylikduzu. These areas are seeing growing demand for both long-term and short-term rentals, providing opportunities for consistent returns.

2. Istanbul’s Real Estate Market Outlook for 2024

Istanbul’s property market is expected to maintain its growth trajectory in 2024, with several positive factors contributing to an optimistic outlook for investors.

2.1 Projected Price Increases

Istanbul’s continued infrastructure development, such as the completion of the Istanbul Canal, expanded metro lines, and the third airport, is set to fuel long-term capital appreciation. Experts predict steady increases in property prices across the city, especially in emerging areas near new transportation links.

2.2 Rising Demand in Suburban Areas

As city-center prices climb, investors are increasingly turning their attention to suburban areas like Beylikduzu and Silivri. These areas are seeing rapid development, and their more affordable properties present attractive investment opportunities with the potential for substantial value increases.

2.3 Stable Rental Market

Istanbul’s rental market remains robust, driven by the influx of students, tourists, and professionals. This strong demand for rental properties ensures a stable income for property owners, with short-term rentals seeing particularly high returns in tourist-centric neighborhoods.

3. Top Neighborhoods to Invest in

Istanbul offers a diverse array of neighborhoods, each with its own appeal for different types of investors. Below are some of the top neighborhoods to consider when buying property in Istanbul.

3.1 Besiktas

Besiktas is one of Istanbul’s most desirable and upscale neighborhoods. Located along the Bosphorus, it offers beautiful waterfront views, proximity to central business districts, and a vibrant social scene. It’s a perfect area for both residential and commercial investments, with strong rental demand.

3.2 Kadikoy

On the Asian side of Istanbul, Kadikoy is growing in popularity due to its vibrant arts scene, rich cultural history, and increasing demand from both locals and expats. Kadikoy offers a range of affordable housing options that are expected to appreciate in value over time, especially with ongoing infrastructure development.

3.3 Beylikduzu and Basaksehir

For those looking for more affordable investment options, Beylikduzu and Basaksehir are emerging areas with high growth potential. These districts benefit from new developments, such as residential complexes and commercial centers, making them prime choices for long-term investors.

3.4 Sultanahmet

Known as the heart of Istanbul's historic district, Sultanahmet is ideal for investors interested in the tourism sector. With world-famous landmarks such as the Hagia Sophia and Blue Mosque, the area is a prime location for short-term rentals and hospitality investments.

4. Step-by-Step Guide to Buying Property in Istanbul

Investing in Istanbul real estate is straightforward if you follow these essential steps:

4.1 Research the Market

Before purchasing a property, it's crucial to understand the local market trends, property values, and potential returns. Conducting research, visiting Istanbul, and engaging a local real estate agent will ensure you're making a sound investment.

4.2 Hire a Professional Real Estate Agent

Working with a knowledgeable real estate agent can save time and help you find the best investment opportunities. An experienced agent will guide you through the legal procedures, suggest suitable properties, and help negotiate the best deal.

4.3 Understand the Legal Process

Foreign buyers can easily purchase property in Istanbul, but it's essential to understand the legal process. The necessary steps include getting a Turkish tax number, having the property appraised, and ensuring the title deed is free of encumbrances. Engaging a lawyer who specializes in real estate law is highly recommended.

4.4 Arrange Financing

If you're financing your purchase, Turkish banks offer mortgages to foreign buyers. You can typically borrow up to 70% of the property value. Be sure to compare financing options to secure the best terms.

4.5 Complete the Purchase

Once all legalities are addressed, you can transfer the property’s title to your name. This process typically takes about a month, after which you’ll officially own the property.

5. Legal and Financial Considerations for Foreign Investors

Buying property in Istanbul involves a number of legal and financial considerations that foreign investors need to keep in mind.

5.1 Property Taxes

Turkey has relatively low property taxes. Property tax rates range from 0.1% to 0.3% of the property’s value, with additional taxes for purchasing property. Title deed transfer fees, which are usually around 4% of the property value, should also be factored into your budget.

5.2 Other Costs

Additional costs include notary fees, legal fees, and possible utility connection charges. It’s also advisable to consider the costs of property management if you plan to rent the property.

5.3 Financing Options

Several banks in Turkey offer mortgage loans to foreign investors, though interest rates may vary. Typically, foreign buyers can access up to 70% of the property's value, with the remainder covered by the buyer.

6. Why Istanbul Remains a Prime Investment Location

Istanbul’s real estate market remains a safe and profitable investment choice due to several factors:

6.1 Strong Tourism Industry

With millions of tourists visiting Istanbul every year, there is a constant demand for short-term rental properties. Areas near popular landmarks and the city center are particularly lucrative for investors seeking high returns on short-term rental properties.

6.2 Government Investments and Infrastructure Development

Ongoing and future government projects, such as the new Istanbul Canal and improved transportation links, will drive up property values in key locations. Investing in Istanbul today allows you to capitalize on these long-term development projects.

6.3 Capital Appreciation

Historically, Istanbul’s property market has seen consistent price increases. With continued urbanization and infrastructure improvements, capital appreciation is expected to continue, particularly in up-and-coming areas like Beylikduzu and Basaksehir.

7. FAQ Section

Why should I invest in Istanbul real estate? Istanbul offers a combination of strategic location, booming economy, and growing demand for both residential and commercial properties. Its historical and cultural significance, alongside modern infrastructure projects, make it a solid long-term investment option.

What are the main advantages of investing in Istanbul over other Turkish cities? Istanbul’s prime location between Europe and Asia, coupled with high rental yields and continual capital appreciation, makes it a superior choice. Moreover, the city’s strong tourism sector provides a stable demand for short-term rentals.

Can foreign investors buy property in Istanbul? Yes, foreign investors can buy property in Istanbul. However, there are some restrictions on the amount of land they can purchase, and they must follow legal procedures such as obtaining a tax number and ensuring the title deed is clear.

What are the legal steps involved in purchasing property in Istanbul? The legal process includes hiring a lawyer, securing a tax number, verifying the property’s title deed, having the property appraised, and registering the property in your name at the Land Registry Office.

How much do I need to invest to qualify for Turkish citizenship? To qualify for Turkish citizenship through property investment, you need to purchase property worth at least $400,000. The property must be held for a minimum of three years.

What are the costs associated with buying property in Istanbul? Aside from the purchase price, additional costs include a title deed transfer fee (usually 4% of the property’s value), notary fees, legal fees, and property taxes.

What neighborhoods are the best for investment in 2024? Top neighborhoods for investment include Besiktas, Kadikoy, Beylikduzu, and Basaksehir. These areas offer high rental yields, ongoing development, and strong potential for capital appreciation.

Can I get a mortgage as a foreign investor in Istanbul? Yes, foreign investors can get a mortgage in Turkey, with local banks offering loans up to 70% of the property value. However, the terms and interest rates can vary, so it’s essential to shop around.

How can I manage my property if I’m not living in Istanbul? You can hire property management companies to take care of your rental properties. These companies handle everything from finding tenants to collecting rent and maintaining the property.

What should I know about the rental market in Istanbul? Istanbul has a strong rental market, especially in areas popular with tourists, students, and professionals. Long-term rentals are stable, while short-term rentals yield high returns, particularly in central or tourist-heavy areas.

What is the outlook for property prices in Istanbul over the next few years? Property prices in Istanbul are expected to continue rising due to increased demand, ongoing infrastructure projects, and a growing economy. Suburban areas may see especially high value increases.

Contact Best House Turkey Ready to invest in Property Turkey? Get in touch with us for expert guidance and unparalleled service:

Address: Şenlikköy Mahallesi Yeşilköy Halkalı Caddesi Aqua Florya No: 93 Kat: 3 Daire No: 2, 34153 Bakırköy/İstanbul Website: https://www.besthouseturkey.com/ Phone: +90 850 308 07 17 Email: [email protected] Map: View Us on Google Maps

With Best House Turkey, your dream property is just a step away. Let us help you turn your vision into reality!

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stormpainter · 1 year ago

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my cook has made sandwiches for lunch this's.. turkey salad with dried cranberries and apple chunks, it aint fish but its okay

#apparently turkeys real cheap right after the holidays #not that I care how much it costs but she does

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latexb0n3z · 1 month ago

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Happy Thanksgiving

Author thought he would get festive, since he doesn’t have a loving family he lives vicariously through these two idiots— writing at a bus stop because some lady threw up on the floor and they couldn’t continue service because of “biohazards and public safety.”

SUCK IT VTA!! ITS COLD OUT HERE.

Wade held up a forkful of pumpkin spice cake, his grin wide and dangerous. “You know what would make this even better?” he slurred, his words slightly off-kilter thanks to the half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey on the coffee table.

Logan, sitting across from him at the kitchen counter, raised an eyebrow and took another sip of beer. “If you shut up and just ate it?”

Wade gasped in mock horror, clutching his chest like Logan had stabbed him. “Wow, Logan. That’s the attitude you’re bringing to the Thanksgiving table? No wonder you’re single.”

It was in fact Thanksgiving, and they’d sort of made it their own. Cheap, domestic, lots of liquor. On the kitchen counter was a mess of dishes, empty beer bottles, a half eaten rotisserie chicken, (not turkey, because neither of them liked it, even declaring it as the worst bird meat below duck) mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce. Logan had been in a good mood all day— recently he’d felt like he finally had a home again.

Logan snorted, unfazed. “I’m single because I don’t spend my free time doing things like… whatever you’re about to do with that fork.”

“Oh, this?” Wade waggled the fork of cake in Logan’s direction. “I was just reminiscing about old times. Y’know, Vanessa loved when I used to do this—”

Before Logan could react, Wade lunged across the counter. Buttercream and soft, pillowy crumbs of pumpkin cake— smeared from Logan’s cheek to his bottom lip- to which Logan licked at it, and looked at Wade incredulously, pausing for a moment.

“Wade!” Logan barked. “What the hell!?” His tone was playful, and he said it with an amused smile.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Wade crowed, his grin stretching from ear to ear. “You look festive.”

Logan wiped his cheek with a growl, but instead of calming down, he grabbed his own slice of cake and hurled it. The dessert splattered against Wade’s shoulder, leaving a sticky, pumpkin-scented mess.

Wade looked down at the damage, then back at Logan, his eyes sparkling with drunken mischief. “Oh, it’s on.”

Within seconds, the kitchen devolved into chaos. Wade grabbed handfuls of cake and smeared them wherever he could reach—Logan’s face, his hair, even his flannel shirt. Logan retaliated with equally reckless abandon, slamming a plate of whipped cream directly onto Wade’s chest.

“You’re insane,” Logan shouted, trying to dodge a swipe of frosting aimed at his nose.

“And you’re too serious!” Wade shot back, laughing so hard he nearly fell over. “C’mon, loosen up! It’s the holidays!”

Logan growled and tackled Wade into the counter, their laughter echoing through the kitchen as cake and frosting flew everywhere. In the scuffle, Wade managed to pin Logan’s wrists, leaning close with a triumphant smirk.

“Face it,” Wade said, his voice dropping into something low and teasing. “You can’t beat me. I’m the cake master.”

Logan, flushed and breathless, glared up at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“And yet you’re still here,” Wade shot back, grinning. “Admit it, you’re having fun—”

Logan, his head spinning from both the whiskey and the ridiculousness of the moment, surged up and kissed him. It wasn’t planned, not even close. It was messy and tasted like sugar and booze, but it worked—Wade froze, his hands loosening their grip on Logan’s wrists.

The kiss grew into something aggressive, yet soft… so soft, and fulfilling— hot and full off playfulness. Logan licked frosting off of Wade’s cheek, pulling away to see his expression, swallowing the contents on his tongue.

For once, Wade was speechless. He blinked, then slowly tilted his head, a lopsided smile forming. “You know, you could’ve just said you wanted to give me beard burn on my nethers. Cake wars weren’t necessary, peanut.”

Logan groaned and pushed him away, trying to hide his face. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re sweet,” Wade quipped, wiping frosting off Logan’s cheek with his index finger and popped in his mouth. “Literally.”

As Logan tried to salvage what was left of his dignity, Wade grabbed a clean fork and held it out, offering a fresh bite of cake. “Truce?”

Logan hesitated, then leaned forward and bit the cake off the fork, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. He chewed for a second before, “Only if you stop calling yourself the cake master.”

“Deal.” Wade said, though the glint in his eye promised nothing of the sort.

It was moments like these that made being immortal and royally cursed by the universe not so bad, to both of them. He’d really met his match— and Logan loved it, tumors and all.

#deadpool x wolverine #logan howlett #worst wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool movie #deadclaws #poolverine #fluff #wade wilson #logan/wade #fanfiction #xmen #marvel

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dallasgallant · 2 months ago

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Time period post: 1960s Thanksgiving

Going to make some time period stuff for holidays as they pop up as it’s fun to look into and I knew a few people are like me time period wise and want to look into it. I also make posts like this on request so if there’s something you want to know about let me know! Anyways,

Homemade-

Now, while people did bake and cook their food largely from scratch back in the day it’d be dishonest not to point out that post ww2 saw a rise in premade. Not entirely but canned soups, box mixes, jello and ingredient stuffs etc. However, for the large part people did cook on their own at least certain recipes. Now Oklahoma is a sort of middle ground to where it’s “located” so …. Cornbread or rolls on the thanksgiving table? Answer me that lol.

I mentioned this in a food post before but a lot of new recipes were coming out during this time with the rise in product availability, surviving the war and well a lot of drugs. Some of it is stunt marketing or to look nice at parties, others become stables! Green bean casserole which is a staple on thanksgiving in a lot of homes would’ve still been a novelty, new and exciting as it’d only been made in 1955!

Tradition-

Thanksgiving is perhaps the most tradition heavy holiday, especially in the 1960s at its peak. Your family started doing it this way X years ago and it will stay that way.

Who carves the turkey (maybe with one of those new electronic serving knives), who does the wishbone, who’s helping mom and grandma in the kitchen?

Kids tables, arts and crafts, playing some pre dinner football, dinner at 3 etc.

Macys thanksgiving day parade! It’s been around since the 1920s but was first nationally televised in 1947.

Football games, if your teams playing.

Everyone’s different but I’m rattling off a few as they’re prevalent ones.

Home for the holidays-

Just figured this one out/was told it but the “holiday season” was more of a defined thing back in the day. Relatives visiting would sometimes go from Thanksgiving-new years — if someone was hosting all the way through anyway. As sometimes it’s split between houses.

A tradition that springs from this is Putting up the Christmas tree! This was surprising to learn about but back in the day (and some families today) you’d put it up after dinner, with the usual fanfare and family help as it’s a hectic time of year so having it up and family around is a good deal.

Formality-

Sort of a hold over from the 1940s where you’d dress up just to eat dinner(usually middle-upper class) you dress up nice for holidays even if you’re staying home with family all day. Not black tie or anything but you dress nice. This has begun to totally dissolve in the last 10 years or so.

Usually you’ll get the nice china and actual silverware, table decor is HUGE.

Dinner is usually both cooked all day but also eaten early usually 3-4 but like traditions it greatly depends on the family.

Going out and class-

I thought about this a bit as the gang are poor so I’d wanted to take that into consideration on how it could affect holidays. Sometimes I think they’d fully cook a meal, not nearly as massive as a soc or fancy placement and china (as Soc’s are rich rich.) but quaint and nice.

Sometimes I think they’d go out to eat such as:

(Seriously I cannot overemphasize how huge Howard Johnson’s were in the 60s and it could probably be a post itself)

Where you can get a nice ‘traditional’ holiday dinner for cheap that also works well when you have to work etc. There was also generally a trend of “resteraunting” (?) among more middle class families for thanksgiving, occasionally and it depends on who you are - most people would go the more traditional route.

Leftovers! Again time of ‘let’s try shit’ while new staples were being added to the thanksgiving meal so were how to deal with leftovers.

Story of thanksgiving-

Slight bit more of a focus on the Thanks giving part of the holiday, being thankful for friends, family, good fortune etc. Maybe you’d tell the myth of it to kids or have some sort of tradition of saying what you’re thankful for or do something symbolic.

Though I think in the 60s (even the decades prior) there was more of a shift towards it being the “food and football” holiday even then! As it’d already far secularized as a holiday and was just a nice warm, comforting time of year and time with family etc. you’d remember snuggling with grandpa on the couch for a nap far more than some old story told before you can eat, you know?

#the outsiders #outsiders #time period post #time period post : thanksgiving #thanksgiving #details #outsiders meta #writing help

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eliecasa · 1 year ago

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Moody Man Simon Riley LOVES the holidays. I will not accept any arguments as this case is CLOSED!

(ﾉ´ з `)ノ!🎄 I’m feeling festive ¡

• A constant side-eye during turkey day dinner, knowing you’ll make him and everyone else get up and help with the decorations sometime soon.

• Simon complaining about the stench of cinnamon sticking to him for days on end.

* “C'mon Simon, you smell great!” You tease, patting him on the arm. The man merely waved you off and headed to bed with red eyes. “I think I’m allergic to that stuff.” to which you would scoff and reply with “And I’m allergic to washing the dishes, you don’t see me complaining.”

• Your bulky husband hiding upstairs when your nieces and nephews visit; knowing you’ll force him to put on that itchy fake beard as well as the too-squeaky boots that he tried to get rid of.

• Simon randomly deciding to mess with you by pouring a cup of snow on you whilst you were in a trance, watching ‘The Polar Express’.

* “Thats payback for the cinnamon shampoo.”

• Having to keep replacing the tree’s candy canes because of someone being a peppermint addict.

• Simon dying on the inside when carolers show up.

* Looking at you for an escape that you avoid with false claims of checking on a nonexistent baby.

• Having tiny disputes on where to set the tree.

* “Why would you want it directly in front of the window? Blockin’ the sun out,” he reasons, standing in front of the tree as a guard. Your eyes turn to slits. “Because I worked hard to decorate it and the neighborhood should see it.” He’s unconvinced, eyebrows pinching as he stares back at you, but he doesn’t say anything further. He would rather implode than admit that he would maybe enjoy the sight of the winter's first snowfall.

• Simon has a preference for older Christmas movies and says the new ones are all cringeworthy romcoms or too emotional.

• Inappropriate sweaters together <3

* SWEATing his ass off when your parent insists that he takes his coat off for dinner. Maybe stopping by with a reindeer shagging another on his sweater wasn’t the best idea.

• Flirting with him, asking to sit on his lap for a new ‘wish’ every day.

• Simon having at least three different videos of you slipping on ice and busting your ass.

* “Simon~” you whine, eyes getting watery from anger and pain. Your husband would let out a haughty laugh and begin to trek through the snow. “Don’t cry, I’m comin’,” he would tease you until his boots suddenly gave way and threw him face-first into muddy snow.

• Lovey-Dovey cuddle days, holding hands and playing with his ringed hand.

• Taking credit for Simon’s beautiful handwriting on gifts with a massive grin on your face.

• Kissing him when you notice that his lips are chapped.

* He would smirk, looking at you with confused pleasure. “What was that?” to which you would just shrug and coyly look away, paying mind to the Christmas parade. “Thought you looked a little chapped ‘is all.”

- He would SO call you cheeky for that.

• Your husband getting protective when your male coworkers give you gifts that just seem (in his words) ‘Too Thoughtful’

* “Simon, seriously?” you scold, hand on your hip and he seriously pouts on the sofa, “It’s just a cheap perfume.” But those dark and untelling eyes would glance at you before he turned back to the television, grumbling “Bought you that because he wants you to smell nice for him.” He’s such a man-baby during the holidays.

• Simon being passionate about hot cocoa.

* Do NOT make your cocoa with water around him. This man will look at you as if you were drinking a mug of dirt.

• You stuffing him with treats and seasonal recipes as he watches you cook.

* Smiling with a cupcake in hand, you trot over and gently lift his chin, “Mint red velvet with some caramel, trust me.” But he would pause and slowly bring his eyes to the cupcake in horror. You lost him at ‘Mint’. But hubby would never say no to you.

• Making each other search for their hidden gift on Christmas Eve.

* You’d follow Simon to your bedroom, rubbing your hands together like a mouse. You hid his gift in your toiletry drawer. It was the perfect strategy and he would never-

“Is it in there?” he would stand in your shared bathroom, pointing to the only drawer he's never used, his eyes blankly blinking at you. “You cheater!”

• Husband putting his cold hands in the back pockets of your jeans.

• The two of you deciding to pull an all-nighter for Christmas, drinking wines and dining on finger foods until it was time for gift opening.

• Underneath your tree would be LOADED with gifts for each other, more than your friends’ gifts combined.

• Simon giving you that look as you beam at him, holding the very thing he said he wouldn’t buy for you because it was apparently “Too expensive.”

• Smothering him in kisses and thanking him in different ways.

• Watching your husband as he cooly tries on the new clothing and shoes you bought him. He would shrug his new coat on and look at you with a smirk. “Like it?”

- Heart Eyes.

• So many pictures are being printed after New Year's, and most of them are candids of your friends and family, as well as your dearest, Simon Riley.

sneaking back into the writing game👀

#call of duty imagines #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #cod fluff #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #cod headcanons #simon riley headcanons #ghost headcanons #Holiday #headcanons

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tempural · 1 day ago

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Happy 6 year anniversary to my Dadspy comic ♥

Got reminded of it, cuz some aspects of the new #7 TF2 comic follow the deadbeat dad Christmas specials I complain about in this comic.

For my comic's anniversary, I wrote alt text for the comic. So click on that ALT label on the image for the dialogue transcription. I also wrote a little afterword now that the official comics are finished as far as we know. Both of those are on the comic's page. Read the afterword after the read more cut here too ☺

The 7th TF2 comic finally came out this month.

I know what patterns writers follow to pull certain heartstrings, ESPECIALLY in this cursed month of December in the English language. They call it cheap pops in wrasslin y'know :P Say the name of the city you're in, get the crowd to cheer. Say happy Holidays and happy turkey dinner, get the crowd to go awww. It's a Charlie Brown Christmas Special~!

I'm glad that the comic's decade-long cliffhanger is done! I'm glad there's closure for those who need it in their ~canon~. And I'm glad that I still prefer the old open-ended game/sfm world to play with my characters in 😛 I personally prefer less explaination and lore. Even if the new ~official~ lore won't satisfy me as a disgusting gen wunner, I'm really glad the fanart and fanfiction era of 2007 was so creative and led to so many different interpetations of the enviroment and characters!

And I'm glad that the wild west wasteland of the 2007 era fed into my own creative process 😼 Both the fans and the Valve stuff! I have Ollie/Liv and Basile as my own characters outside of the TF2 universe. I love the absurdist violent humor of the game and I think that's fairly apparent in my non-fanart. And I love that other people have also been influenced by TF2 in the past, and make characters and stories in-and-out of the universe where I can see that same string of influence that I've had.

Cape comics are written by many different people, drawn by many different artists over many different eras. Batman in the 1940's is different that the 80's or 2020's. There are different timelines and universes for all those different creative versions, and I think that's really cool. That's probably the most inspriring creative thing for me -- a cast of characters (characters being a vague collection of personality traits) that reappear in different stories in different shapes and forms for different themes!

I think TF2 does that SO well with the games, SFMs, and the fan creations it inspired. The silly Spy in ElTorroRus64's "Spynapple Pizza" animation serves a different purpose than the sad Spy in KrasniyB's "Left Inside" animation. Everyone has their own version of Tentaspy. I don't have a strong connection to the TF2 comics characters of Jeremy or Ludwig, but I'll still love the core concept of the Scout or Medic to manipulate for our own purposes 💖

#comics #tf2 #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #scoutspy #scout's ma #repost #christmas #draws #dadspy

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tagsecretsanta · 1 day ago

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From @janetm74

From @janetm74 to @the-original-sineater

Dodecuplet: 12 musical notes performed in the time of the same value.

Or: 12 Christmas Eves over the years.

With much help from @mariashades

Prompts: 1) SCIENCE!! 2) Holiday in the Tropics 3)Odd family food traditions.

One: Scotland

Lucille Charlotte Evans met Amelia Candice Barclay on a wet and windy day in late August on the steps of a large house in St Andrews.

It was an inauspicious meeting. Lucille – Lucy to her friends – had just climbed out of a taxi and was about to drag her suitcase up the stairs when a gust of wind blew it out of her hands and she suddenly found herself racing down the hill after it.

Amelia happened to be the one who stopped it, or rather, was sent flying by it, and the two women, both strangers to Scotland, found themselves seated together in St Andrews Community Hospital Minor Injuries Unit while waiting for Amelia’s ankle to be x-rayed.

It turned out to be only badly sprained and a very guilty Lucy offered to take Amelia back to her home only to find out they were neighbours, sharing the same student accommodation only on different floors.

They quickly became firm friends by the end of the day, fuelled on the rather unusual local delicacy of deep-fried pizza, chips and cheap red wine.

Lucy was studying Astrophysics and Computer Science. Amelia was studying Economics and Social Anthropology. None of their classes overlapped but they had sections of time that did, and they often sat together in the University library or camped out in one of the museums in an out-of-the-way corner.

That first Christmas they both should have spent with their respective families but heavy snow grounded airflight and so they holed up in Amelia’s room and ate the only food they could scrounge up on Christmas Eve – haggis, neeps and tatties with a dessert called cranachan and good whisky.

It was the weirdest feast both women had ever eaten. And the beginnings of a tradition they both tried hard to keep while in Uni together – Christmas Eve was always holed up in one of their rooms with their Scottish feast.

Two: Kansas

Ruth bustled around the farmhouse, singing at the top of her voice. The radio was blasting the top 100 tunes from the 80s and she was bopping as she plated food and wrapped them ready for the party.

‘Grant, hun, do you want a drink?’

‘Thanks, Ruthie, that would be lovely.’

She took out a bottle of root beer and watched with a fond smile as he turned the ribs in the smoker. No one cooked meat like her husband did, and while his Kansas BBQ beef was legend locally, so good that even Miss Ella had said she’d buy any leftovers off him – there were never any leftovers with her husband and son – but what Grant was really famous for was his Sweet Southern Slow-Cooker Ham.

Giving him a quick squeeze from behind Ruth returned to the kitchen to finish prepping all the cold foods they would need. It might be winter and cold here in Kansas but their Christmas wouldn’t be complete without the mounds of potato salad, coleslaw, soul food macaroni and pickles to go with the ham and burnt ends.. They’d never really been a turkey kind of family, reserving that bird exclusively to Thanksgiving.

Once Ruth had wrapped all the sides and packed them away she set about cleaning the house from top to bottom. A spick and span house she could do, cooking not so much, not unless you liked burnt as a flavour and a texture.

The day passed on and as it did so did the excitement in the household. Jeff was coming home today from NASA and he was bringing his best friends Lee Taylor and the Caseys. They hadn’t seen Jeff since the spring and as the sun began to go down the sound of a truck in the driveway heralded their guests.

Christmas Eve had become the traditional day they ate their meal and had done ever since the day they had married, with Ruth’s commitments at the local clinic they had always put other families ahead of their own, letting the workers have Christmas Day instead. Jeff had grown up knowing no different and loved having their celebrations a day early.

Arms snaked around her waist as Ruth put the kettle on and a head rested on her shoulder.

‘Ma, I swear you get younger every year.’

‘Flattery will not get you out of the dishes, Jefferson.’

‘Mmm, I’ll happily wash the dishes if Pa’s made his Ham and Burnt Ends.’

‘Stop asking stupid questions and take the coffees through.’

Jeff laughed and took the tray his Mom indicated.

Three: Kent

Lucy and Amelia’s friendship lasted long past University. It lasted the distance of the Atlantic Ocean.

NASA had snapped up Lucy once they’d seen her dissertation but despite the distance they chatted regularly and met up at least once a year, and always on Christmas Eve.

This year was going to be different.

This year Amelia had married.

It Amelia’s turn to host Christmas Eve dinner, and Lucy had brought her fiancé. They hadn’t been going out long but from the chats the two women were having Amelia knew this was the one.

She was eager to see her best friend again and hopeful that Lucy would get on with her husband. She’d laughed a good solid 10 minutes when she’d found out that Hugh was actually Lord Hugh Creighton-Ward, 11th Earl of Kent and that plain old Amelia Candice Barclay was to become Lady Amelia Creighton-Ward.

Speaking of her husband, she put down the spoon she was using to mix the swede and carrot mash and went to find him. It came as no surprise that he was holed up in his office – that Stanley the butler insisted on calling his ‘study’ – even on Christmas Eve. Her husband’s work for the Home Office didn’t stop just because it was an international holiday.

Knocking, she waited for his call before entering, and Amelia broke out into a grin at Hugh’s rueful face.

‘You caught me, Me!��

‘I did, Hugh. Are you done? Our guests should be arriving shortly.’

‘And you want me front and centre. Understood.’

‘I want you to be your usual witty self, my love.’

Hugh laughed and put his file back away in his safe before following his wife out to the kitchen. He pulled up a seat at the table and watched his wife putting the final touches to the meal they would shortly be serving.

He couldn’t believe this beautiful, amazing woman had agreed to marry him. He was ten years older, in a stodgy job and a member of the elite British aristocracy. The day his chauffeur accidently crushed her bike while parking was the day his life had changed. She’d been like a spitfire, giving first Grandy and, when she found out he was ‘just the chauffeur’ Amelia had turned to him and given him such a mouthful.

No one had ever spoken to him like that and by the time the lecture had finished he was smitten. They were engaged by the end of the month. Amelia had been a breath of fresh air to the estate. For a start off she worked closely with the staff to bring them more in line with the 21st Century and after some sweeping changes life had settled into a new routine.

Amelia loved to cook and Hugh had suddenly found that he loved to be in the kitchen, a place he’d never really frequented even as a boy. He loved watching her at work. She danced and sang unreservedly and created magic. He’d never eaten such food, and some of their meals had a distinctly Scottish flair on certain days, and his introduction to the national dish of haggis had been…interesting.

Now he was being inducted into another of Amelia’s traditions, the Scottish Feast on Christmas Eve. Amelia’s best friend Lucille was coming over from America with her partner Jeff. He’d met Lucy a couple of times but he knew Jeff by reputation.

Jefferson Tracy, first man on Mars. Everyone knew him. And now Hugh was about to have the man stay at the house with him. It didn’t faze him, he’d hobnobbed with the cream of British aristocracy and foreign diplomats, he was sure he could handle a hot-shot American.

They were going to eat relatively quickly after they arrived, it was late already and just as Amelia placed the last prepared dish into the aga a knock sounded on the door. She grinned at Hugh, grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her as they made their way to the door.

Opening it the two women may have squealed – not that either were going to admit that – and the two men shook hands before Jeff pressed a bottle of Pappy Van Winkles Family Reserve. Impressed at the gift, Hugh stood aside and allowed them entry.

‘Good evening. Hugh Creighton-Ward. Please call me Hugh.’

‘Jefferson Tracy. Please call me Jeff. Thanks for invitin’ us.’

‘My pleasure. I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.’

‘Lucy has been talking about nothing else for weeks.’

They settled into the kitchen rather than the dining room and Amelia passed around the hot toddies she’d prepared.

By the time dinner was over both men were firm friends and a new tradition had been created, with the invitation for the Creighton-Wards to come to Kansas next year.

Four: Dibrugarh

This Christmas Eve was going to be different.

Jeff, Lucy and their four children were off to Dibrugarh in India. Hugh, Amelia and their daughter Penelope had moved out early in the year ostentatiously to take on a job overseeing a tea plantation. The heat wasn’t really agreeing with Penny, but the ten-year-old was being a trooper.

The plane ride was long but enjoyable. They had flown from Kansas to Chicago and spent the day in the Windy City before sleeping overnight and taking the longest flight the boys had ever been on, 14 hours from Chicago to Delhi. With any other children it would probably have been difficult, but all boys had grown up flying, Scott starting at two months old. From Delhi to Dibrugarh, the last stretch being a little over three hours.

Hugh met them at the airport and drove them to a large villa on the outskirts of the town. It was obviously a new build but it was light and spacious and airy, just right for the temperature.

Drinks called Sherberts were given out and rather than collapsing in a tired heap Jeff and Lucy watched in amusement when the boys got a second wind, following Penny out and exploring while it was the adults who collapsed in a heap.

‘God, Hugh, I thought it would be hot in India!’

‘Not at this time of year.’

They laughed over drinks and chatted while the children ran in and out the rooms, even Penny coming out of her shell to join the boys in a game of tag.

Christmas Eve this year was not the Scottish Feast but an Indian one in the style of a Thali. Bhaat (steamed rice), Dal, Bhendir Sarosi (okra in mustard sauce), Lau Tenga (bottle gourd), Aloo Pitika (potatoes), Xaak Bhaji and the sides Kharoli – a papaya chutney and Assamese pickle, all washed down with a drink called Khar.

None of the Tracys were expecting a mild but highly spiced vegetarian meal, but they all enjoyed what was put before them, the boys in particular loving the open nature of the food and that they not only could help themselves from the central tray but that they could eat with their fingers. The meal was finished off with a selection of Indian sweets and glasses of Mango Lassi.

Scott declared that Indian sweets were almost as good as apple pie to the laughter of all. Lucy spent time with Amelia and the two woman who had helped cook the feast, taking notes and looking forward making some of these dishes once she’d returned home.

The evening ended with presents as usual and a happy puppy pile of Tracys and Creighton-Wards wrapped up tightly in blankets as fireworks lit up the sky.

Five: Fiji

Lucy rubbed her bump. She was getting big and pretty soon she’d have to stop flying. This was going to be their last holiday before baby number five was born.

Their Christmas vacation place this year held a double purpose. Not only were they holidaying in the tropics to give Lucy and John some much needed summer sun after both had been hospitalised with severe pneumonia, but they were here for a surprise Christmas present.

Jeff had been so secretive, the only indication of what he’d been up to was the location. Lucy looked out the window of their private jet as Jeff brought them into land. The ocean was so clear and sparkling!

Fiji was hot in comparison to Kansas, and for that first day Lucy just rested on the beach and baked. And boy did she feel better that evening! John too had some colour to his cheeks and Jeff relaxed a little, seeing that he’d made a good choice.

They had three days before the Creighton-Wards would join them. There was sadness at the thought. Penny had returned to England after a year in India, citing the weather as a reason, although Jeff and Lucy had their suspicions as to the real reason, but they would never ask and put their relationship under strain. It would be the first time Hugh and Amelia had seen their daughter for two years.

The boys understood to give the family room, and after an afternoon spent swimming and exploring the beach they returned to the villa to find the Creighton-Ward’s in their own puppy pile, evidence of tears long dried on all faces.

That evening they rested and just reorientated themselves around each other after missing last year.

Christmas Eve began with more swimming and sun lounging, with a thirteen-year-old Scott trying out some waterskiing for the first time. Lunch was going to be their Lovo Feast. Plates of Kokoda, Palisami, Fish Lolo and Vakalolo for dessert.

The food was some of the strangest they had ever eaten. Gordon’s face when he saw the raw fish made everyone laugh. But soon they had eaten their fill and rested and then Jeff was chivvying them all to the airport for his surprise.

The jet had been refuelled and was ready for them all but Jeff refused to say where they were going. He banned everyone from the cockpit…and that was when the Tracy family realised that the windows had been blacked out.

They had no way of knowing where Jeff was flying them…

It wasn’t too long a journey and they had soon landed. Jeff let them out and held Lucy close as she looked at where they were.

It was an island. Behind them a mountain rose up, in front and below them was a cove and a small patch of sandy beach. There was a gasp from every individual as they stepped off the plane onto the tiny runway. Her husband pulled her close and kissed her head.

‘Jeff?’

‘Do you like it?’

‘Like it…? What have you done?’

‘Done? Why, I’ve bought us an island to holiday on and eventually retire to.’

‘Oh.’

‘Oh? Is that all you can say?’

Lucy turned in his arms and kissed him soundly to the whistles and catcalls of their boys.

‘Was that enough words?’

‘Yes. Boys, Hugh, Amelia, Penny – welcome to Tracy Island.

Six: Kansas

This year Christmas was cancelled.

Scott tried his hardest but no one had the heart for it. With Alan still only a baby really at 21 months old there didn’t seem a point as he wouldn’t miss Christmas if they didn’t do it, and none of his other brothers had been able to muster up enough…drive, desire, want – Scott didn’t know what to call it – to do anything this year. And he couldn’t blame them.

They were never going to be whole again.

Seven: New York

It had been a battle Scott had lost despite fighting bitterly.

Jeff had sunk himself into Tracy Industries since their Mom and Grandpa’s death and the business had gone from strength to strength. And then earlier in the spring Jeff had hit a milestone, opening his headquarters in a new skyscraper in New York of all places as the first of many in an empire that was now beginning to go global.

This year had also seen changes at home, with both Scott and John leaving for their respective colleges and Gordon beginning to become a serious contender with his swimming. The Squid was going to go places – namely the Olympics – and he’d been pestering his Dad to let him attend a residential school that catered for Olympic hopefuls.

This Christmas Jeff had put his foot down. It was the first one since his boys had left and he was going to make the most of it.

Unfortunately, ‘make the most of it’ meant that instead of celebrating in a relaxed atmosphere at home they were all dressed up – suited and booted – and at Tracy Tower for the staff Christmas Party.

Scott had had words about dragging his brothers here, how it was unfair of Jeff to schedule the party on today of all days, but Jeff had held firm and dismissed him with a wave of his hand and the cutting remark that Scott didn’t know what he was talking about.

They had stopped talking for the last two days, but Scott was determined to give his brothers the best Christmas ever and had taken them all to Central Park that day and spoiled them rotten.

The staff party itself was actually fine, and Scott began to relax as it became clear that this was not one of his Dad’s networking meetings. A small band was playing Christmas pop tunes and people were dancing.

The food was…well, the food was delicious but there just wasn’t enough of it. Aware enough that if he ate as much as his stomach was telling him he needed to he’d probably get into trouble, Scott nibbled sadly as he wandered the room and looked out for his brothers.

John had brought a book and had curled up in a chair in the corner, resolutely ignoring all attempts at conversation. Virgil was currently under one of the tables, his sketch book out and another page being filled with whatever took the artist’s eye. Gordon was on his best behaviour, their dad making it absolutely clear that any discussion about him leaving home depended on his ability to show he was mature enough for it. And little Alan was with John, sitting under his chair and playing with the build-a-rocket kit that Scott had bought him earlier that day.

A hand on his shoulder had him freeze until a familiar voice sounded in his ear. Grinning, he turned and took in the sight of Penny, dressed in a…a…well, in a pink dress. Scott had no fashion sense; he had no idea what she was wearing.

But she looked stunning.

He took her hand and kissed it before offering her the floor, and at her slight nod Scott swept her up in a dance.

Maybe today wasn’t going to be a total loss after all…

Later that night the three eldest and Penny lay sprawled over the couch munching pizza and drinking pop as their fathers chatted over whisky in the kitchen. If Scott had his arm around Penny and if Penny was snuggling into his embrace well no one was going to mention it.

Eight: London

Penny hopped from foot to foot, much to Parker’s amusement. And he hoped that this Christmas would be a turning point for his ward.

They had buried Lady Amelia Creighton-Ward that spring and it had hit her daughter harder than expected. After spending so long apart, the news that her parents were moving back to England had filled Penny with hope for the opportunity to get to know them all over again, but they’d barely been back when her mother got sick.

The family that Penny was expecting had been instrumental in helping her through, and in particular the eldest, who would be arriving before everyone else since he was currently based in Germany.

She’d be lying if the thought of having Scott to herself hadn’t sparked something in her heart. Ever since that Christmas in Fiji they had been getting closer, and Scott had been calling her regularly since her mum…yeah, he knew how she felt, what she was going through. They would talk for what felt like hours even though each call was only around 30 minutes.

And there he was!

A head higher than everyone else, Scott strode confidently across the airport, looking for Penny. A shift in the crowd drew his attention, and Scott grinned as he saw Penny standing there, oblivious to the way the crowds parted for her – assisted in no small part from the grim expression on her guardian, Parker. He saw the moment she saw him, her smile lighting up the atmosphere.

Scott quickened up and, dropping his duffle at her feet, he caught her about the waist and swung her up and around, cherishing her laughter as she rested her hands on his shoulders.

They were staying in what Penny had called ‘the town house’. That term had not prepared Scott for the four-story house in the heart of Knightsbridge. Parker took Scott’s bag to his room and made his way to the kitchen where he prepared tea as slowly as he could. His Lady needed Scott right now.

He found them in the front drawing room, seated on the sofa. Scott was holding a sobbing Penny and he offered Parker a small smile as he tightened his hold. Parker sat the tray down and made a tactful withdrawal.

The next morning Parker drove them to the airport to pick up the rest of the Tracy family. He watched his ward and the boy through the mirror. She was looking brighter, and something loosened in his heart.

Parker watched as the boys gave his lady hugs and surrounded the pair before they swarmed through the airport to the car. They filled the space with a comfortable noise, both in the car and in the house, and they helped Penny relaxed even more.

Lil had made a light lunch so that the dinner could be the Christmas Eve feast Lord Hugh had asked her to prepare. After lunch Parker had taken Jeff to go and collect Hugh from his office and the rest settled down to watch some Christmas movies.

Scott and Penny were on one sofa, with Alan sitting on his brother’s lap and leaning back against him. John was sitting on the floor between Penny and his brother while Virgil and Gordon were curled up on the other sofa. All four brothers were asleep before the movie was even halfway through, their body clocks not yet adjusted to all the time they’d spent flying, and Scott and Penny let them snooze on so that they’d be fresh for the evening.

The smells from the kitchen soon roused the boys, and there was much amusement when Scott returned from there with red ears, red cheeks and a red hand. He slid back into his seat just as their fathers arrived home. There were more hugs and some chatting and then Parker returned to announce that dinner was ready.

Lillian had been given a very specific feast to create, a mixture of the family favourites. It was one of the most eclectic dinners she’d ever put together. It shouldn’t have worked, but for some reason it did. Lil reckoned it was because of who they all were, Parker wasn’t so sure, muttering under his breath about ‘boys’ and ‘cast iron stomachs thanks to Mrs Tracy senior’.

Haggis held court with baked ham with glazed vegetables. Plates of Fish Lolo sat next to Xaak Bhaji and sides of Kharoli and steamed Bhaat and to top it all off there were several desserts.

The families didn’t quieten down at all as food was consumed. And Parker was pleased to see his master and mistress begin to smile genuinely for the first time in a long time.

Nine: Germany

Jeff sat in the chair and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before stretching as much as possible while still sitting in the ridiculously uncomfortable chair.

He must have made a sound he was unaware of as a low moan came from the bed and Jeff sat forward carefully, picking up Scott’s hand as carefully as he could, mindful of the canula and the still-healing digits.

But Scott didn’t wake fully and after he settled back to sleep Jeff sighed.

A nurse entered with a tray and set it down on the table before pulling out her pad and recording details from the machines still attached to his son.

He took a deep breath.

His son.

His son was here.

Scott was here, alive.

Scott was alive.

Jeff still couldn’t believe Scott was there, and he gently kissed his son’s hand and placed it back on the bed.

‘Mr Tracy?’

‘Uh…yes?’

‘I brought you a meal.’

‘A – a meal?’

‘It’s Christmas Eve, Mr Tracy. We don’t have much, it is a military hospital after all, but we have a little. I don’t know what you eat but I brought some ham, turkey and some vegetables. And I’m sorry but I could only get green Jello for dessert.’

‘Nurse…?’

‘Abby. Please, sir, call me Abby.’

‘Abby, I am very, very touched by this.’

‘You are more than welcome, Sir.’

He eyed the tray, not inclined in the least to try and eat anything and turned back to watching Scott. Jeff didn’t pay any more heed to the nurse, but as she left she paused in the doorway.

‘Colonel Tracy, I just want you to know that your son is in the very best of hands and we’re proud to be looking after him.’

‘Thank you, Abby. That – that means a lot.’

‘I know you don’t want to eat, but Scott needs you to be strong so please try and eat something.’

‘I – I will.’

The door closed quietly and Jeff looked at the tray again. Green Jello had been the dessert Virgil had loved the most, fighting his brothers for it, invariably being rescued by Scott snatching it out of Gordon’s hands. Scott’s was always the red one, much like Alan. Stifling a sob at the memory, Jeff picked up the Jello and ate it slowly as he watched his son’s chest rise and fall.

Ten: Argentina

It was a heavy feeling of déjà vu as Jeff sat at another bedside and held the hand of another son who he’d believed was dead, but turned out Tracys were determined people, for which Jeff thanked his Irish ancestors.

Another bed, another military hospital, another Christmas away from the rest of his boys as he tried to keep one alive.

He’d never believed that anyone could come back more injured than Scott. His eldest had been held and tortured in a supposed POW camp for three months and had his arm and leg bones broken. Many had healed incorrectly and Scott had needed multiple surgeries to reset breaks. But that had needed to wait until he was better – if the double pneumonia, sepsis and malaria didn’t kill him first.

But Gordon, in typical younger sibling energy, had outdone his eldest brother.

The hydrofoil crash had claimed the lives of all the crew, and for almost half an hour Gordon too, but the paramedics had been able to bring him back from the dead. And when Jeff had finally managed to get someone to talk to him he had found out that Gordon had broken almost every bone, including his spine.

Even as he sat stunned at the news Scott had corralled everyone he knew to try and look for a solution to get his brother walking again, refusing to believe that their Squid could lose that ability.

Brains had come up with the solution, working closely with the spinal surgeons and physios to replace the broken sections of vertebrae and nerves with a Cahelium scaffolding framework.

Gordon had had the first surgery yesterday. He was still under; the operation had taken all day and most of the night and the anaesthesia was yet to wear off. Jeff began massaging the hand he held, humming one of Lucy’s tunes as he did in an effort to both stir Gordon and comfort them both.

‘I haven’t heard you hum that tune for a long time.’

Jeff looked to the door where Scott stood, a bad in one hand and two coffees in the other. His cane was nowhere in sight and he frowned at his son. Scott half-shrugged, completely unapologetic and Jeff sighed in exasperation.

‘How is he?’

‘Same as he was before you left for coffee.’

‘Yeah…’

Scott trailed off. Being here in these circumstances…it was bringing back unwanted memories. He’d bolted a couple of times, but he was getting better at staying. Having a younger sibling who needed him was helping him cope better with the trauma he’d been through himself.

This time he’d left willingly, for coffee. And returned with more. He took something from the bag before handing it to his Dad. Jeff wasn’t surprised to see an apple Danish in Scott’s hand and one in the bag for himself.

They solemnly tapped their cups together.

‘Merry Christmas, Dad.’

‘Merry Christmas, Scott.’

‘Do…Do you think you can keep it down? How’s a Squid supposed to sleep?’

It was the first genuine smile either man had smiled for a long time.

Eleven: International Rescue

There was an air of festivities on Tracy Island the like they hadn’t had for a long time. Everyone was here, both family and friends.

International rescue had been operating for almost eight months, and in that time their reputation had gone from strength to strength. Lee Taylor, Tim and Val Casey and Jeff had been the founders, but the last four months Jeff and Lee had been training Scott, John and Virgil to take their roles in the organisation set up in honour of their Mom.

Christmas on the island was polar opposite to Kansas where they had grown up. December was quite warm – around 70°F compared to about 25°F in Kansas – and although they’d officially lived on the island for a few years now, this was the first Christmas all the Tracys, the Creighton-Wards, the Kyranos and Brains were together. Only the Caseys and Lee were missing, Tim and Val unable to get out of work at the GDF due to some top-secret test (that Scott and John absolutely did not know about, no sir, they did not know about the Zero-X at all) about to occur and Lee because he was back on Alphie, trying to persuade NASA not to destroy their beloved base.

Virgil had been acting oddly all week, and once John had come down he’d joined him, they immediately stopped whatever they were doing every time Jeff walked into the same room. He’d caught whispers about something lost, but to be honest Jeff was just revelling in having all five boys and Tanusha under the same roof for once.

Their Dad wasn’t the only one who had noticed John and Virgil’s odd behaviour. Both Scott and Gordon had, but Scott had his hands full with Alan, the eight-year-old had clung to his eldest brother like a limpet, not that Scott minded, but that meant leaving Gordon to find out what was going on…Gordon promised that he would behave but Scott knew better than to trust that kind of promise – there were many shades to “behaving” when it came to Gordon and Scott was well versed in his prankster brother’s ability to create loopholes. Both brothers would vehemently deny it, but when it came to finding loopholes in something John and Gordon were identical. Scott himself would deny that he and Gordon were the same when it came to pranks, but he’d be lying just as much as John would be…

Whatever they were trying to do also involved Virgil’s studio. The place was a strict ‘invite-only’ place, but Virgil had taken to locking the door – both when he was out of the studio and when he was inside – and had lived up to his “bear” reputation when Scott had tried to find out what they were up to. He had backed away quickly when Virgil literally growled at him.

As the week progressed the smells coming from the studio were mouthwatering, though, and as time passed more and more Scott found himself wandering past trying to work out what the two were up to.

All anyone could work out was that it was definitely *ham* that was being cooked, but why it needed such secrecy was anyone’s guess.

Christmas Eve dawned clear, bright and hot. Breakfast was a riotous affair with so many people, an eclectic mix of traditional American, English and Malay foods meaning everyone had something they enjoyed.

Dinner was due that evening, giving everyone all day for whatever activities they had planned. Games were played, films played in the background. Lunch was a spread of finger food for them to help themselves as they so wished.

Virgil and John disappeared back into the studio. Out of the kiln Virgil pulled the latest attempt at recreating Grandpa Grant’s Baked Ham. This was their fifth attempt but, as tasty as the ham was, it was missing something. Virgil sighed despondently as John’s hand landed on his shoulder and gave him s squeeze.

‘I really wanted this to be ready for tonight but – *sigh* – it won’t be.’

‘It would have been nice, I agree, but you’re really close!’

‘Not close enough, John.’

‘We can do this, Virgil! It’s just a matter of using science and all our taste and memories to work out what Grandpa’s secret ingredient was!’

‘The secret ingre….’

The klaxon drowned out whatever else was going to be said and both men legged to the lounge where the command centre had already been engaged.

‘There’s a problem with the Zero-X launch. Scott, suit up and meet me in One. John, can you return to Five and direct us from there?’

‘FAB Dad.’

‘FAB, Dad.’

‘Kyrano, you have the command centre. Thunderbirds are go!’

Later on, when Scott finally came home, dinner had been forgotten as had all thoughts of food. Once he returned to the lounge Alan all but launched himself at Scott, his other brothers following suit. The four collapsed in a huddle in the middle of the floor, with John’s holo looking on. Pretty soon they were joined by Penny and Kayo and then the older adults surrounded them.

For the second time in their lives Christmas was cancelled.

Twelve: Tracy Island – Together Again

‘What about this?’

‘No – I’ve looked in that box. What about that one?’

‘Hang on…yes! They’re in here!’

This year promised to be their best Christmas ever!

In early spring the five of them with Brains had done the impossible. They had flown to the Oort Cloud, rescued their Father and returned home. Jeff had spent the remainder of the year in a specialist rehab centre, but now he was due home.

Due home on Christmas Eve. What could be more perfect?

So Tracy Island became a hive of activity as everyone prepared for his return. Scott got busy making sure iR and TI could survive the day without them, Gordon and Alan took it upon themselves to decorate the lounge. Brains had muttered something about snow and Kayo was busy in the kitchen with her father and Parker cooking up a feast. Even Uncle Lee had been picked up from Mars earlier in the week by Alan and John.

Virgil and John took it upon themselves to spend the week perfecting Grandpa’s Baked Ham recipe in celebration of having their family all under one roof again. The villa soon filled with the delectable smell of ham.

Every day they tried a new combination in their quest. John had suggested using science to work out what they were missing.

So they started at the beginning by asking the question – AKA ‘interrogating’ Grandma.

Unfortunately Grandma knew nothing. Her husband had been protective of his recipe, not because he didn’t trust her, but because Grant knew what a terrible cook his wife was. It had been a joke that Sally could burn water for their entire married life, and she’d proved that to be the case so, so many times. It hadn’t occurred to anyone that there would come a time when he wouldn’t be around anymore…

So the two brothers formed a hypothesis and theorised that Grandpa would have used ingredients to hand, so they thought long and hard about the kinds of food flavourings they had seen around the old kitchen farmhouse.

Based on that hypothesis they gathered groups of flavourings to try as the predictions part of the scientific method.

Testing the hypothesis had been fun at first. They had mixed flavourings like some kind of kitchen wizards, testing combinations out.

Their family had appreciated most of the ham results. At first. After three days and seven hams even Gordon had begun to complain, but Scott remained oblivious to the amount of thick-cut ham sandwiches he was consuming as he worked.

Tests complete, they analysed the data and drew some conclusions. Nothing matched. They had come close a couple of times, but there was still one key ingredient they were missing, so they tried a different method.

They began searching for their Grandpa’s secret recipe.

They tore into the storage room in the basement, looking through old boxes of stuff that hadn’t been opened since they had moved here from Kansas. They had had to stop for the rest of the day when they stumbled on the one filled with pictures of their Mom and them growing up.

John picked up a heavy box to place it on top of another to make it easier to look into. He’d been down almost the entire week and so gravity wasn’t its usual problem, but the box was heavier than he had anticipated and in manoeuvring it he caught the bottom box. It was enough to make the bottom of the box he was carrying split open, spilling books all over the floor.

A particularly heavy tome flattened his toes and John yelped. Virgil abandoned his box to come and make sure his brother wasn’t too badly hurt, picking up an old tractor manual. It was for Grandpa’s old Deere, the tractor both he and a tiny Virgil had adored both – it was a giant green machine after all…

A feeling of nostalgia washed over him as he flicked through the well-thumbed pages, some still with Grandpa’s oily fingerprints on. As he browsed a yellowing slip of paper full of Grandpa’s neat, careful writing slipped out from between the pages.

With slightly shaking fingers John bent to pick the page up and read it aloud:

Sweet Southern Slow-Cooker Ham

“Ingredients:

1 bone-in fully-cooked ham, about 5.5lb

1 cup apple cider vinegar

½ cup of dark brown sugar

1/3 cup of Kentucky bourbon

¼ cup of honey

¼ cup Dijon-style mustard

4+ sprigs of thyme”

Virgil smacked his forehead. Bourbon? The missing ingredient was bourbon?? He picked John up and swung him around. Both men were laughing before carefully packing the box and putting it back away and returning to the studio.

Several hours later and Virgil was bringing Two into land.

They were all there to bring their Dad home and Jeff was revelling in just being here. He still used a cane to walk around, but he was so much more than the husk of a man they had rescued ten months ago. He’d put on weight, had almost got used to gravity again and was looking forward to sleeping in his own bed with his own children, his Ma and his friends all around him.

Christmas Eve. What a special day to return home. There were so many Christmas Eves that had been special for various reasons, but today was going to be the best ever. As they arrived in the lounge to the cheering of those who had stayed behind and to the smells of food ready to be eaten.

Jeff watched as his children and his friend’s children orientated themselves around him and each other. Huh…interesting. He’d known Scott and Penny had a bit of a thing for each other before…before that time, but now to see Penny sitting with Gordon he realised that ship had sailed. Instead, Scott had gravitated to Kayo, an unusual pairing to be sure, Jeff thought, seeing that they were potentially too similar in temperament, but if it worked then he’d be more than happy for both boys.

Ma, Kyrano and Parker were busy laying the table when John and Virgil brought in a covered dish. There were a few groans from Gordon and Alan which had Jeff raising his eyebrows at them and they quietened down.

The ham was uncovered with a flourish once everyone was seated and ready to help themselves. Scott, recognising the smell of Grandpa’s secret Baked Ham, insisted that Jeff have the first slice and that everyone wait until their Dad and friend had pronounced judgement.

The smell hit Jeff like a thunderbolt. He’d not smelt this particular aroma for…wow, was it really almost twenty years since they had lost Lucy and his Pa? Water welled but didn’t fall from his eyes as Jeff fought to keep his composure.

And then he tastes it.

Tears fell as memories of home, of being a child growing up on the farm, of that first Christmas he’d introduced Lucy to his parents, of the time a two-year-old Scott had managed to pull the tablecloth off the table and was busy hoovering up the food that had fallen, heedless of the adults’ cries of panic over the broken glass and China.

That first time Hugh, Amelia and Penny had come over for Christmas and then Kyrano and Kayo had joined them…and Brains too vied with thoughts of the dried astronaut food he’d sustained himself on when alone out there in the Oort Cloud.

All these memories rushed upon him and Jeff suddenly realised he’d dropped his fork and was just sitting there staring into space, his family looking on with worried faces.

Jeff cleared his throat and wiped his eyes.

‘Thank you. Thank you all. This is without doubt the best Christmas Eve I have had in a very, very long time.’

#thunderbirds are go #tag team secret santa #thunderbirds #tag team secret santa 2024

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fionajames · 1 year ago

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Christmas with the Clones; Headcanons.

Hey guys! This is basically some headcanons about Christmas for the Clones in my fix-it au on and about Nay Mets!

Enjoy, and send some requests please!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!

Rex

He is obsessed with the lights. And the pretty decorations. Everything pretty about christmas basically.

Rex is obsessed with the pretty-ness of the snow. But only to look at! No touch.

Gets everyone really nice gifts and makes pudding.

Obsessed with older Christmas films like Holiday Inn and stuff.

Idk why.

On Christmas Day he’s up at his normal time and makes a coffee and drinks it before doing anything.

Fives

An actual fucking child.

Bro’s fav part is the gifts, and we all know it.

He loves kind of comedy-Christmas films.

I think first Christmas was when he gave everyone their hoodies but from then on, he gets like food or sweets for everyone.

He’s the first up on Christmas.

Boi falls down the stairs trying to race down, but he does wait for the others to arrive before unwraps his gifts. Impatiently. He waits impatiently.

Gives out free hot chocolate for the day.

Echo

Although he doesn’t really like to admit it, he likes the subtly romantic-Christmas films.

He buys everyone books and writes a message on the front page for them.

He loves the peaceful and beautiful side of Christmas. He 100% goes to the Church and listens to the carols even though he’s so not religious.

Gave cards to like, basically everyone. Like, those cheap ones you buy at the fuckin post office but then he writes like a beautiful paragraph for every person.

Jesse

Child number 2.

He likes all Christmas films, but particularly the cheesy and comedic ones.

Gives everyone small but well-chosen and meaningful things.

Holds a snowball-fight that ended up including like 90% of the town.

Cried hearing carols the first time, and refuses to go back to church.

Gave Tundra a Santa hat.

Kix

Kix still worked on Christmas Eve, but not on the day.

He gave all the kids at the hospitals gifts, and all the adults chocolate.

Work up super late on Christmas Day because he got home so late.

Sent Padme a gift.

He gave everyone sweet home-made things no one knows when he made.

Travelled around town with Fives to give everyone hot chocolate.

Cody

Similar to Kix, he gave all the kids at the daycare chocolates.

He got everyone accurate gifts. One of the few normal gift-givers.

Organised a huge dinner for all the close clones plus Jedi and what not.

Got his own Santa hat but in the 212th’s colour and wore it everywhere.

Just loves Christmas films. Like, particularly the ones with meaning.

Wolffe

Bro reminds me of a wet, angry cat.

Real-fucking-Scrooge/Grinch.

Secretly he actually likes Christmas, but he’ll never admit it.

Got everyone something small, probs stationary.

Bought the fucking cheap post office cards too but just wrote ‘Merry Christmas’ in them.

Threw part of the turkey at Fives when he wouldn’t stop singing.

Hates Christmas films.

Got Plo a hoodie saying ‘Best Dad’. Only rea gift he got, basically.

Fox

Bro was chugging coffee the night before because he’d been putting off wrapping the presents.

He went to Midnight Mass though, even though he’s not religious, he thought it was interesting.

He basically got everyone a mug.

A special mug.

He doesn’t really mind Christmas films but isn’t the biggest fan.

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wcshedup · 5 days ago

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aroyaltailor asked: Do you have any lore for some of the drugs in Hell? We know about H8 for example. How is that specific drug nastier than the rest?

holy SHIT this is a great question and I'm so glad you asked !! i have a ton of lore regarding h8 and I've never had an opportunity to yell about it one place so i hope you're ready to never hear me SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT THIS.

disclaimer !! everything below the cut is 100% fanon lore to this blog in collaboration with @fizzarollitm and @madefate ( a lot of this lore is the brainchild of our group chat over the last year or so )

h8 is a drug exclusively cultivated and sourced in the WRATH ring, where it is sold in very small qualities over the counter in capsules as a type of form of performance-enhancing drug. its desired effects include increased motor function, heightened sense, a decreased physical refractory period, and reduced inhibition. basically, it makes you feel fucking invincible for 6-12 hours.

utilization is typically reserved for older adults who struggle with energy levels and maintaining a personal level of wrath or physical prowess around times like harvest, pain games-like festivals, or holidays like sinsmas. however, because there are several cultural hang-ups regarding its use (notably implications of impotence or being 'past one's prime') among the citizens of wrath, abuse of h8 is generally only found OUTSIDE of wrath.

due to its low demand in its home ring, and the local knowledge that it isn't a substance to fuck around with, h8 is absurdly cheap and easy to obtain and traffic to other rings for the entrepreneurial hellborn.

it has a red, crystalized appearance that comes in a capsulated form over the counter, and in its street form (which comes in a larger crystal) it can be crushed and snorted OR melted to a liquid state and injected. it takes between 2 and 3 times MORE than the recommended dose for the average adult to achieve the high that h8 users -- often labeled as rageheads or h8ers -- are going for.

the effects from consuming h8 in qualities qualifying of abuse include euphoria, increased physical prowess, increased heart rate, paranoia, and jaw tension/stiffness (due to grinding) once a physical dependency is established, a user will begin to experience withdrawal effects 8-12 hours after their last fix, with that window decreasing the further into addiction the individual spirals. withdrawal symptoms begin with irritation and nausea and will progress into violent outbursts and high levels of physical pain quickly thereafter.

once a non-immortal being develops a physical dependence on h8, the likelihood of recovery is EXTREMELY low to none, and this is for several reasons.

the further from wrath the substance travels, so too does the likelihood of the crystal being cut with something non-consumable, such as a look-alike rock sugar or bathroom cleaner. this makes h8's quality variable between dealers and days and makes accurate dosing extremely difficult. as h8 is also an incredibly easy drug to overdose on when taken in off-label qualities, this raises the mortality of its user base considerably.

h8 was never intended for chronic use NOR for use in the qualities that addicts need to achieve and maintain their high. while its effects are intense, so is the physical toll on the body. even a ONE-TIME use will leave an immortal with a raging migraine and an aching jaw the next day, but a non-immortal chronic user can find themselves experiencing muscle wasting, psychotic episodes, and organ failure (specifically the heart, kidneys, and liver.)

h8 is not a substance that you can quit cold turkey. once dependency is established, the user's body will REQUIRE monitored intake of h8 in small qualities until they can be weaned off in a controlled setting, such as a rehab facility or hospital. half of the deaths related to h8 addiction are born out of an inability to obtain the next fix, or failure to procure placement in a treatment facility; at this stage of addiction, the stress of withdrawal on a body already under the stress of such a harsh drug, cardiac arrest is common.

many users also find the sheer pain of withdrawal too great to tolerate, making recovery nearly impossible, and self-unaliving is common among late-stage users.

#THIS TOOK ME DAYS BUT BAM !!#tw drugs #tw drug use #tw death #thinking up as many tags as i can think of for this h8 lore.#feel free to take pieces as you see fit !!#aroyaltailor #aroyaltailor.#answered.

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propertyturkeybesthouse · 2 months ago

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chilchuckswife · 28 days ago

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For Thanksgiving let me tell a true story that honestly made me cry tears of relief and joy and restored my faith in humanity today.

I was having a really hard month due to my pet being sick so I barely scrapped by to pay rent and I am currently living off cheap, instant ramen. Not glamorous or anything but hey it's food! I had made today's ""dinner"" ramen with actual pieces of chicken and some crushed almonds on top to make it special. (Har har, right?)

There's a knock at my front door. Now me, I'm not really wanting to answer and I'm certainly not expecting visitors! But I sigh and go answer the door. It's my next door neighbor.

"Hey uh, I cooked a LOT of food, would you like a plate?"

I'm stunned but I squeak out a "Yes?"

She takes me to her house and... fixes me a HUGE Styrofoam takeout box of turkey, ham, dressing, cranberry sauce, chicken spaghetti, potato salad pile HIGH. Then fixes me a plate of just CAKES she'd baked! Strawberry, devil's chocolate, pecan pie, pumpkin pie.

Gives me a BIG OL' HUG "Thank you for enjoying my food, sugar. Now you go eat and have the best thanksgiving ever and remember you're family here!"

I was streaming on twitch.tv at the time... and let me tell you... My small audience got the treat of me blubbering on the stream because I was just SO MOVED by this.

This post is a reminder that... life is good. Life is still worth living. There is still good, chivalrous people in this rotten world and the sun always shines to cut through darkness.

Happy Holidays from Hanamei, I'm wishing you and your family and friends and loved ones all the best forever. ~

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melishade · 28 days ago

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Attack on Prime The Future Anthology: Thanksgiving

Main Story

Dia de los Muertos

StrongArm and Sideswipe I

Strongarm and Sideswipe II

Let's see how fast I can spit this out!

Paradis

"You know it was a real dick move for you to exclude the two of us from that 'Day of the Dead' celebration," Ymir mockingly huffed.

"It would have been nice to actually take a break and see that colorful festival," Historia openly sighed in defeat, "Demands regarding Paradis have been tiring."

"Well...how was the food we brought?" Armin asked.

"Oh, food was great," Ymir declared.

"So spicy, but in a good way," Historia hummed with delight.

"Well, be thankful that we're doing Thanksgiving here!" Jack called out as he continued to stir the pot for the collard greens.

"Taking another piece out of our paycheck, but we want to do something nice for you guys," Rafael sighed as he walked past holding an aluminum tray full of food.

"What's Thanksgiving?" Historia asked.

"It's a holiday on Earth where people get together to eat and be grateful for what we have," Jack explained.

"There's also genocide involved," Rafael added, "It technically shouldn't be celebrated."

"Well we're doing it this year because at the very least, Sasha will be happy to eat a whole turkey!" Jack pointed to Sasha, who's mouth was watering at the sight of the mashed potatoes. Sasha was ready to steal it altogether, but Mikasa quickly grabbed her shirt and pulled her back.

"Why do you all do this to me?!" Sasha whined.

"Because you're a glutton," Ymir crudely replied.

Armin heard the familiar sound of a spacebridge opening up and looked behind him to see Bulkhead and Arcee driving through it. Bulkhead opened his door to let Miko out of his alt mode, while Arcee transformed into her bipedal mode.

"I got good news and bad news!" Miko informed as she opened the trunks and pulled out more trays of food, "Good news! I got the remaining food!"

"Bad news?" Rafael asked.

"No turkey," Miko answered in defeat.

"WHAT?!" Sasha screeched as she bolted over to Miko, "You promised?!"

"Turkey's cheap this year! Everyone's scrambling to get it!" Miko exclaimed.

"So what the hell's gonna be the main dish?!" Jean demanded.

"Well..." Historia trailed off.

"Well what?" Jack asked.

"Do you remember that large boar that you killed before the attack on Trost, Sasha?" Historia addressed her.

"Yeah, why?" Sasha asked.

"Well, apparently there's another one," Historia explained, "Some are speculating that the previous boar had a child, but regardless, the boar got displaced during the Rumbling and has been running rampant in the forest in what used to be Wall Rose."

"We can kill it!" Sasha shot to her feet and grinned with excitement before Bulkhead transformed into his bipedal mode.

"Wait, how big is the boar?" Bulkhead asked, "I don't know if it's safe for you to go hunting it."

"You realize that we've all fought titans, right?" Jean rhetorically asked.

"And I think it would be good for you to not put yourself in danger like that," Bulkhead reasoned.

"I'll go with them to provide back up," Arcee offered.

"Great!" Sasha grinned, "I'll get my gear! Armin, you want to tag along like last time?!"

"Um, I guess," Armin shrugged.

"I wanna join!" Miko volunteered.

"Great!" Sasha declared, "Let's go kill a boar and cook it up!"

"I think that the vegetables in my garden are good now," Mikasa commented, "We could make some stew."

"I'll help you with getting it," Rafael offered.

"Thank you," Mikasa said.

"Anyone else wanna help out with preparations?" Jack spoke up.

"I could go and get pies," Historia offered.

"Probably the easiest thing to get," Ymir agreed, "And the kids seem to be in good hands with Levi and Erwin."

Levi merely passed by all of them in his electric wheelchair, with a few children clinging onto to the chair and laughing with delight. Meanwhile, Erwin was letting children take turns to dangle from his cybernetic arm.

Later

"Are you sure you want to pursue this thing?" Arcee asked, surveying the destruction that the beast had caused. The four of them were met with the sight of broken trees and upended soil.

"Pursued one last time," Sasha shrugged, "And Armin and I have our 3D gear.

"I still think this is a terrible idea," Arcee declared.

"Also, wouldn't it be better to use a gun instead of a bow and arrows?" Miko asked as she cocked the rifle in her possession.

"Call me traditional," Sasha shrugged. Suddenly, Sasha winced a little, experiencing a rather sharp headache. She rubbed her eyes to ease the pain, and when she opened them, she gasped at the strange sight.

It...it was just like when she was tracking Mikasa, and when she fought that Decepticon. The energy, the life force of everything, had returned to her vision. Black energy had surrounded the dead trees while green surrounded the living ones. She heard Arcee speaking and looked over at her, and was stunned to see bright blue energy exuding from her body. It looked rather rigid and stiff like a tree. She looked over at Miko and saw a mix of green and pink. Sasha saw jolts of energy poke out from time to time, reminding her of the harsh metal music that Miko plays.

Sasha then turned her attention to Armin, and his was blue...and fluid...like the ocean. It was actually beautiful. Sasha froze when she saw a trail of scarlet red appear in her vision. Her eyes followed the trail, and she saw the pathway go down the animal made trail. She wordlessly drew her bow and followed the energy down the broken trail.

"Okay, I guess we're just jumping in!" Miko exclaimed as she, Arcee, and Armin followed Sasha. As Sasha continued to run, she noticed the hoof prints left in the ground, exuding that same red energy. She noticed brown tufts of hair that got caught in the branches, exuding red energy as well. It was the boar; it had to be.

Sasha slowed in her step when she saw something beyond the clearing, right over the small cliff. She slowed to a stop and peered over the rocks to see the massive boar below. It was bigger, definitely bigger than the last one she had taken down. And it had more scars. She had wondered what Connie would have thought looking at the size of this thing.

Sasha shook her head. There was no time to dwell on that now. Now she needed to get that boar. She drew her bow and aimed it at the boar's head. She took a deep breath and was prepared to fire, but jolted when she heard a loud crunch behind her. She snapped her head back to see the other three frozen in place, with Arcee's pede crushing some wood that Sasha had instinctively avoided.

"Maybe that wasn't too loud?" Armin whispered.

Sasha noticed the energy emanating from the boar grew more restless and violent. It blazed like fire as the boar got on its legs and stood up. It snapped it's head towards Sasha and blew air out of its snout before roaring at her.

"Damn it, Arcee!" Miko yelled at her.

"I'm sorry, okay!" Arcee snapped back.

"BRING IT ON!" Sasha screamed at the boar.

===

Mikasa's home

"Wow, your garden has a variety," Rafael praised as he looked at the basket, "Carrots, potatoes, eggplant? We should have just come to you instead of just buying the ingredients."

"I wasn't even sure I would produce results," Mikasa admitted as she continued digging through the dirt of her garden to pull out another carrot, "I've been focused more on my recovery and rebuilding that I was expecting the garden to die when I started checking on it again."

"Well these look great. You've managed to pull it off," Rafael praised.

"Thanks, Rafael," Mikasa said as she gathered the last of the vegetables and put them in her own basket, "So....do you like Thanksgiving?"

"Why do you ask?" Rafael asked her.

"Well, you....brought up the fact that there was a genocide involved?" Mikasa recalled as she stood up.

Rafael sighed. "Yeah. U.S. History's got a lot of complications with it. Thanksgiving is one of them. And yeah, Thanksgiving is festive now, but...people died because of it. Sorry, I'm just being cynical."

"...I don't think it's wrong to acknowledge what happened," Mikasa agreed, "Our Eldian ancestors committed genocides of their own. I'm sure you have a right to be angry at the lives that were taken back then. It just...seems like the only thing we can do right now is move forward and try to create beauty from the cruelty."

Rafael hummed in agreement. "Maybe one day, it'll get better. Let's go back to party."

===

Arcee trailed the boar from behind while Armin kept his eyes on it from the side. Sasha used her 3D gear to cling to the beast for dear life. Miko, riding atop of Arcee, aimed her rifle at the hide of the boar as it continued running through the forest. She fired at the beast, but shot missed and hit a tree trunk instead.

"Damn it!" Miko swore as she reloaded and aimed her rifle once again. She was about to fire, but yelped when Arcee swerved to avoid some rocks. The shot missed and flew up to the sky instead.

"Arcee, stop swerving!" Miko shouted at her.

"I thought you were training! What happened?!" Arcee snapped at her.

"Jack is a better shot than I am! I'm a brawler! You should know that by now!" Miko yelled at her.

Sasha managed to pull herself on the hide of the boar and clung to the fur for dear life. It really was the same as last time. It was both nostalgic and saddening. She did miss those days. She snapped out of her thoughts and instinctively shut her eyes when more red energy flung outwards and blinded her.

It was too distracting. She needed to gain some distance and shoot it in the head like last time. But...she didn't need to do that. She had Arcee.

"Arcee!" Sasha shouted, "Get in front of the boar to stop it!"

"That's Bulkhead's department! Not mine!" Arcee retorted.

"Just do it!" Sasha screamed.

"Fine!" Arcee screeched to a stop before addressing Miko, "Get off!"

"Aw what?! You're going to make me-!"

"Do it!" Miko yelped and hopped off before Arcee drove forward. She bolted past the boar and stood directly in its path. The boar ran faster, charging directly at her. Arcee crossed her arms to protect her chassis and planted her pedes into the ground. The boar rammed into Arcee, trying to knock her back and use his tusks to throw her, but Arcee stood her ground, her pedes digging into the dirt. She twisted her servos to grab the boar's tusks and lift. Sasha quickly flew off the back of the boar as Arcee threw it high into the air. Sasha looked up to see the boar's underside, and she noticed that there was no energy exuding from the underbelly. It was open. It was a weakness many would dream of exploiting.

Sasha grit her teeth before drawing her bow once more and firing an arrow directly at the boar's stomach. The boar whined in pain, and Sasha noticed the color of the energy surrounding the beast changing. It was slowly fading from red to black. It...it was dying, but it wasn't dead yet! Sasha aimed another arrow and screamed before firing. Her arrow pierced the boar directly through the heart, and the red energy permanently switched from red to black. The boar crashed into the ground while Sasha hooked onto a tree and lowered herself to the ground.

"Sasha, are you okay?!" Armin asked as he landed right next to her. Miko huffed as she finally managed to catch up to them on foot. She gawked at the sight of the dead boar before turning to Sasha.

"You guys really are a different breed," Miko quipped. But Sasha didn't care. Her face broke out into a grin before pumping her fists into the air.

"TWO FOR TWO!" Sasha cheered.

===

Later

"Wow, your garden came out well," Jack praised as Mikasa and Rafael arrived with the vegetables, "If you want, we can get you some seeds from Earth so you can grow fruits."

"Like strawberries?" Mikasa asked rather eagerly.

"Yep." Jack smiled as he tapped the ladle against the pot, "The green beans look done. We can start the table prep. Bummed that we couldn't get a turkey in time."

"Jack, can someone call a spacebridge," Arcee called him through the comm. link.

"Um, sure," Jack spoke in confusion before making that call.

"Bulkhead, we need help," Arcee contacted him as the spacebridge opened, "We managed to kill the boar."

"Wait, really?!" Bulkhead sprinted through the portal.

"So how big do you think the boar is going to be?" Rafael asked.

"When Sasha killed the boar last time, it was able to feed a good portion of Trost," Mikasa recalled.

"Comin' through!" Bulkhead called out as he dragged the boar through the spacebridge. Armin and Arcee merely walked through while Miko and Sasha were standing proudly on top of it.

"We're gonna have a feast tonight!" Miko cheered.

Everyone else could only gawk at the size of the boar.

"We're gonna need a bigger pot," Jack declared.

===

Later

"So...now we're just doing a soup kitchen?!" Fowler exclaimed as he saw a few members of the Survey Corps serving some of the stew they made from the boar to a long line of people on Paradis.

"Gotta give the people something to be thankful for!" Miko grinned as she handed a bowl to another person.

"It was spontaneous," Historia agreed as she handed a bowl to one of the orphans, "But it's nice to give people something to look forward to."

"Although, Sasha is heavily guarding the portion of the boar that we're going to eat for this Thanksgiving Dinner." Ymir pointed to Sasha, who was marching in front of Jack with a bow in arrow in hand. The eldest out of the Jasper Trio was helping prepare the meat while Sasha was ready to shoot anyone that got too close.

"...Do you guys want help?" Fowler asked.

"Yes, please!" Armin pleaded.

===

That night

The Survey Corps gawked at the large table full of food. Mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, stuffing, cranberry sauce, vegetables, it went on.

Jack placed the tray of roasted ham onto the table. "Alright, let's eat!"

The Survey Corps gathered around the table and took their respective seats. Ymir blushed when Historia pulled her seat for her.

"Still a bummer that we couldn't get turkey," Miko commented as she opened a bottle of wine.

"I hope the ham's good," Jack said as he started cutting it up, "Pick and choose what you want."

The Survey Corps quickly and eagerly got what they wanted from the dinner table. Some of them began to cheer as Miko started pouring the wine, happy that they didn't have to deal with drinking laws.

"Cheers, everyone!" Miko yelled as they all touched glasses for a toast. As they all continued to eat, Sasha scarfed down a huge chunk of meat. She paused in her tracks when she noticed the energy had returned. It surrounded everyone in all different colors and shapes, but despite it, the energy shined brighter around them, as if...they were happy.

Sasha blinked and her vision returned to normal. She was tempted to tell someone about this, but refrained from doing so. Maybe it was just her imagination.

(...Look I have been busy this week and reeling! I know this is super rushed! I'm just happy I got it out! Happy Thanksgiving!)

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previousloversandmuses · 2 years ago

Text

FREQUENCY: Episode 3 - A Soldier Boy Story

FREQUENCY: A Soldier Boy Story

EPISODE 3: “Elkwood, TN”

WORD COUNT: 4059

PAIRING: Soldier Boy X Reader

WARNINGS: (NSFW) Drugs, death, and mentions of suicide. Foul language, mentions of sex, or sexual innuendos. Slow burn starts now. (Sorry)

A/N: This story is dark, and covers mature themes. The main character, as well as other major characters, are offensive in nature, and may offend some people. Please peruse with caution, and remember that this is fiction. Reader discretion is advised. Please message me for any questions, comments, or concerns.

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When Vought had relocated me to Appalachian West Virginia, I didn’t know anyone. I was moved into a wooded mountain home, and watched over by two local park rangers. Both men, both never had been married. They had no idea how to take care of a young girl. But, from fourteen to eighteen, I struck up a bond with both of them that I had never experienced with another human being.

Jim was an older white man, maybe in his late fifties. He’d take me out on his gator and drive me all around the national park. He’d play me John Denver, as he’d smoke a pack of camel crush. He always told me never to smoke. That it was an awful habit he had formed. I told him he wouldn’t ever have to worry about that. I could always taste the pesticides.

I always swore Jim had been gay. He had the quintessential straight man behavior. He shot guns, smoked, watched sports, and enjoyed shitty, cheap beer. But, he was handsome. He was over fifty and had never been married. He isolated himself in the embrace of the forest. He would sit outside on the back porch, and paint the sunset. On holidays I’d ask him why he wasn’t with his family, he told me his job was to watch me, so he couldn’t be. But that wasn’t true. He never liked talking about home. He had no photos up from his childhood. And he never, ever reminisced on simpler times.

Wahkan was cherokee. He was from one of the reservations in East Tennessee. He moved up to West Virginia after getting offered more money to watch the lands up there. He accepted, of course, and funneled most, if not all of his money back to his family. Hell, the only reason he took on the challenge of raising me was so he could take the money from Vought, and send it back over to the res.

I’m always fortunate I was able to go with him to the reservation. I used to sit in the long grass with the other girls my age, and make jewelry from creek rocks, and turkey feathers. The sun would set in the distance, and a crackling fire would billow up into the sky. They’d have buffalo roasting over it. Its hide laid out, and drying in preparation for a warm winter coat.

When I decided to move back to the city after I had turned eighteen, it was a hard goodbye with the both of them. They watched as I got loaded back up into the same black Escalade that dropped me off all those years ago. I had waved goodbye with misty tears in my eyes. I wasn’t much of a crier, but watching them become smaller as the car drove away changed that.

A few months after I had gotten settled, things felt uneasy. I would communicate with some of the girls from the res on Facebook. Wahkan, and John hadn’t been answering me. They said they hadn’t heard from them either. That day I sat outside of Vought tower on a bench, and listened in on crisis management. From the sounds of it, there had been a data leak that was traced back to somewhere a few miles away from the town I used to stay in.

I hopped in my car and drove straight to West Virgina, only stopping for gas. I got there around nightfall. The cabin was dark, and quiet. That wasn’t normal, I had thought. I listened in, hearing one slow heartbeat. Thank god. He must’ve been sleeping. I let out a sigh of relief, and started back to my car— until I smelled it. Fresh, hot blood. My face went white, and my heart sank. I sprinted up to the front of the house, and noticed the door had been left cracked open, a trail of red footprints staining the wood.

I kicked the door open, screaming, seeing if I’d get any response. I flipped the lights to the house on, and looked around until I saw John’s body laying at the start of the kitchen. He was lifeless, and had been for an hour or so. They were just here. I searched frantically for Wahkan, trying to locate the sound of the slowing heartbeat I had heard earlier. My eyes landed on him. He was on the floor next to the couch.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. “It’s not safe, if they find you, they’ll kill you.”

I fell to my knees, rushing to his side. I placed my hand over the wound on his stomach, firmly pressing down to stop the bleeding.

“I don’t understand,” I cried. “Where’s the phone? I need to call an ambulance.”

“Too late,” He added, his voice barely above a whisper. “They cut the lines before they left.”

I reached into my pocket, going to pull out my own phone, but he placed his hands on mine, and stopped me.

“No,” he shook his head. “This is my time. It’s alright.”

“This is all my fault.” I said, as I felt hot tears streaming down my face, and neck.

“Don’t make this about you.” He laughed, soft and weak, putting a bloody hand against the side of my face.

“They’ll never get away with this.” I demanded.

He just shook his head, taking a deep breath. His eyelids were getting heavy. He didn’t have much time left.

“Just be…gentle,” He said. “And if you ever need a place to stay…a place that’s safe…a place where you can think of home…the reservation will welcome you with open arms.”

He wiped a tear away with his thumb, as he took his last breath. His body going limp. At least he was at peace.

Driving down the interstate with Uncle Sam by my side, I knew exactly where we would settle ourselves at. Elkwood is a tiny town a little ways from Gatlinburg, nestled at the bed of a beautiful valley. It’s quiet, and everyone knows each other. Like, if someone was throwing a small get together, you best believe the whole town was showing up. Whether it be the people who lived on the res, or just plain mountain folk.

I looked to my side, he was hunched over, my registration from the glove compartment settled in his lap. He’s snorting from a small pile of benzos he made me stop for earlier. He catches my gaze.

“Want some?”

“No thanks.” I chuckle.

“Suit yourself.” He says before diving back into the freshly crushed powder.

I watch him from the corner of my eye as I speed quickly down the highway. His hair, and beard are wild, and disheveled. He looks close to normal though in the sweat suit I gave him. I smile to myself, picturing him in that campy army green uniform. What a fraud, I think. The man was never a real soldier, they might as well have him look like one.

“You’re a pretty good driver for a woman.” He states, wiping off his nose, scooping his powder back into a ziplock bag.

“Thanks…” I say, rolling my eyes. He was much nicer when he wasn’t talking.

“So what's your thing?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your thing, like, your power, I guess. I don’t fuckin’ know. You said you were a supe, right?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately? You must have some shitty power then.”

Some shitty power, I think. Rolling my eyes again.

“I get it,” He says smiling, leaning into me. “They forced it on ya while you were just a baby, huh?”

He reaches down, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He puts one up to his lips and lights it, inhaling deeply. He blows the air out through parted lips as he continues his conversation.

“Seems like you bastards that had baby V are all just a bunch of freaks.”

I look over at him, raising an eyebrow. Now I know why they wanted to keep this guy fucking sedated.

“Say, what's your name anyway? Can’t go around just calling you a freak bastard.” He chuckles smugly.

“Actually,” I grin. “That is my name.”

He squints his eyes at me, pulling his cigarette away from his lips. He leans back, taking me in.

“Some parents you have calling you Freak Bastard, huh?”

“No,” I say, laughing now. “Just Freak, short for Frequency.”

He holds a finger up, tipping it at me. “Ah, but that's your Supe name, what's your real name?”

My real name. I go to change the subject.

“So, do you want to know my plan? The reason why I’ve rescued you? What I need your help with?”

“I’m gonna be honest with you sweetheart, I don’t usually go by a plan. I just wing it, and it happens to work out in my favor.”

“Right,” I nod. “That's why you ended up back in the ice again, huh?”

He glares at me, I beam right back at him.

“So,” I start. “Over the Summer Vought is throwing this huge party in celebration of Temp V.”

“What the fuck is Temp V?” He asks.

“...Temporary Compound V.” I say blankly.

“Right, I remember the cock sucker talking about that. Wait…When the fucks the Summer? And what the fuck year is it?”

“It's April. And it’s only been a year since they put you back in that chamber.”

He stares off into the distance, a solemn look on his face. I couldn’t even imagine having missed thirty years of life. Being put to sleep at the birth of the computer, and waking back up at the dawn of AI.

My empathy for him is short lived.

“Wait, you’re tellin’ me I got to wait,” He counts on his fingers. “Three fuckin’ months before we do this?”

“That's three months of freedom to you.”

“It's not fuckin' freedom if I’m gonna be on the run from these people finding me for Christs sake! Also, last time I fuckin’ checked, you’re practically holding me hostage!”

I scoff at him. “Oh please, you said earlier you could kill me, then leave at any time.”

“Yeah, well, that’s before you brought up family.”

Fuck. I think. I forgot about that.

I don’t say much else as I stare out at the road ahead of me. I feel my blood pressure going up, my arteries tightening at just the mention of my shitty lie. I’d make a horrible villain, I think. I feel guilty for everything, and everyone. I sigh, reaching down to the radio. I fiddle with it until it reaches a mixed station, classic hits from then and now.

“Well,” I say, pressing my foot harder onto the accelerator. “We can try and catch you up on everything you missed over the past thirty years.”

I turn up the dial as “Wonderwall” sings through the speakers.

We are about two hours from Tennessee now, he's fast asleep in the passenger seat. I got him a cheeseburger earlier, and picked up some hair shears from a dollar store on the same exit. I think he had worn himself out trying to trim his own hair and beard. He gets frustrated easily. I had offered to help, but he insisted on doing it himself.

As the gas pumps in my car, I look down at my phone. There had been no news alerts about a break in, or that Soldier Boy was missing. Vought must be doing a good job with crisis management. Or the CIA simply never let them know. I had no texts from anyone either. See, it isn’t out of the ordinary for me to disappear into the middle of nowhere. In fact, even the likes of Butcher knew I often found myself back home in the South to escape the sounds of the city.

Before I left I remembered to leave my debit and credit cards at home so I wouldn't be tempted to use them. I always kept a significant amount of cash in the safe anyway after years of training. I had turned on auto-payments for my rent, and obviously didn’t cancel any sort of subscription service like Netflix or Spotify. I thought if someone had been on my trail, the first thing they'd check would be my bank records. I made sure to turn off all location tracking on my phone, and decided to keep my VPN on 24/7. That wouldn’t be out of the ordinary to anyone either, again, considering my past in security.

The pump thuds, signifying it's filled up. I grab the handle, and pull the nozzle out. I always have to make sure to cover my nose with my sleeve in these instances. The fumes have made me pass out in the past. Benzene is so pungent that a normal human nose can even smell it if there's just 1 part per million in the surrounding air. I get dizzy just thinking about it.

We get close to Elkwood now, maybe twenty minutes out. I look over to him as he puffs little snores out into the air. His heartbeat is steady, his blood pressure normal in comparison to when I woke him up earlier.

Ever since he trimmed his hair, made himself look more presentable, I found myself not blaming women for being so attracted to him. I mean, he really was a beautiful man…As long as he kept that fuckin’ mouth shut. He has a light dusting of freckles across his nose, which is a stark contrast to his hard exterior. His eyes are a sweet shade of green, one that matches that awful uniform of his.

I pull up to the outskirts of the res, some of the younger kids had ended up building their own homes around this area. I walk up to Ama’s trailer, leaving him back in the car asleep to avoid any unwanted interactions. Before I can knock on the door, she goes to open it. Ama beams at me, as beautiful as ever, pulling me into a tight hug. She's the one I had been keeping in touch with on facebook after all these years.

“Welcome home.” She says smiling.

I smile back. Looking down I notice a small child wrapped around her legs, and a man standing up from the couch.

“You’ve been busy!” I exclaim, waving at the little boy hiding his face behind his mother, giggling.

“I have been,” She gestures to the man behind her. “This is my boyfriend, Asher.”

I put my hand out for a shake. A white guy, I think. I give her a look as he grips onto my hand. She looks back at me, beginning to laugh. I remember all of them always making fun of the Wasichu. Something catches her gaze in the distance. I turn around to see Soldier Boy leaning against the door of my car, lighting a cigarette.

“Who is this?” She asks, walking over to my car to inevitably meet the man I so desperately need to hide. Fuck, I think. What am I going to say about this?

He turns to her as she walks towards him. He puts on a big smile. She opens her arms wide for a hug.

“I’m Ben,” He beams. Ben. I swear his teeth glimmer in the light for a second. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Bastard. I think. He knows what he's doing.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ben,” Ama wraps her arm around my shoulder as I walk over to the both of them, grinning awkwardly. “She never told me she had a man back home.”

I flush at this. Damn it. He looks down at his feet kicking at a little rock. He acts bashful, like he's been caught doing something naughty.

“What, she didn’t mention little ol’ me?” He asks.

“Nope, not even a peep.” She elbows me in the side.

I scoff at her, gesturing down to the little boy who had followed us over to the car.

“I’m sorry, last time I checked you have a fucking child!”

She leans into my neck, whispering to me through gritted teeth.

“The elders don’t want others to know…” She raises her eyebrows.

Ah. I nod. At least she has an excuse.

“Well,” She says, clapping her hands together. “Let's get you two home!”

She still has her hands wrapped around my shoulders, walking us towards my new abode for the next few months.

“He’s so hot. I didn’t know you were into older guys.” She whispers under her breath.

I elbow her in the side, my face heating up with some color. I could hear him smiling behind me. I wasn’t the only one around here with good hearing anymore.

The trailer is cute, small but cute. It’s painted a gentle powder blue, and the shutters contrast a pale yellow. It has a little porch with two adirondack chairs outfront, as well as a little bench swing hanging questionably from the wooden awning. Ama had made a note to put a bunch of potted flowers on the outside, knowing how much I like the smell of them. It also may have added to the overall aesthetic of the home.

She unlocked the front door for me, and then handed me the key. SB and Asher were behind us talking about something to do with the house. This is dangerous. He knew nothing about anything these days, let alone how to even have a conversation with a modern man. If you were to ask him who the current president was, he wouldn't have an answer. If you were to tell him we have had a black president, he’d probably pass out on the floor.

“Alright,” She says, showing off the place. “This is it.”

It's cute, small, but cute. I can't help but worry about the fact that neither of us will probably be able to stand each other at the end of this, but hey, let's think positively.

“This is the living room, which is obviously attached to the kitchen.” She goes over to the couch, gesturing to it. “Pull out if he ever ends up in the dog house.” She clicks her tongue, winking at him.

The living area has a floral print sectional, and a leather recliner. In the center is an old wooden coffee table, and a big ass TV across from it, mounted to the wall.

“Cable, Netflix, ESPN, you name it.” She adds.

The kitchen has smaller versions of standard appliances, and every sort of pot and pan or baking dish we may need.

“The second eye on that stove doesn't work, so don't even try it. Oh, and unfortunately it is gas. If it really starts to bother you we can get you an electric.”

“Dont worry about it,” I wave my hand to her, brushing it off. “A little methane never hurt anybody.”

She laughs, turning to Asher. “No need for a carbon monoxide detector with this one in the area.”

I look over at SB, he looks thoroughly confused. Standing here now I realize I still never told him the gift compound v gave me. I’m sure he's just utterly bewildered by this point. He looks between Ama and I like we’re fucking crazy.

“Shower, bath, toilet. Don’t flush, and run laundry or do dishes at the same time.”

Bathroom, much like the rest of the house, is small. But again, it has everything we may need, so I can't complain. Also we lucked out with having a washer and dryer on site. The last thing I want is having to drag him to a laundromat.

“And the best part, the bedroom!” She kicks the door open, displaying a very comfortable queen size bed. Only one. I think. Thank god for the pull out couch.

“Drawers line the walls over here under the TV, and there are some more underneath the mattress.”

“Awesome,” I beam. “Really Ama, I can't begin to thank you enough.”

She smiles, pulling me into a big hug.

“We’re so happy you're here.”

She goes up to SB, resting a careful hand on his shoulder, smiling at him tenderly. He nods to her, thanking her as well.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t, and text me if you need me.”

“Will do.” I say, following her over to the front door, and closing it behind them.

I take a deep breath, pushing my back against the door, sliding down onto the floor. I jolt my head up, pointing at him.

“He didn’t say anything you didn’t know, did he?”

He shrugs, moving over to the sectional and plopping himself down on it.

“So you're telling me I have to stay in this shack with you for three months?” He ignores my question.

I narrow my eyes on him.

“You got anything better to do?”

“Yeah, fleeing the country to sunny Costa Rica.” He counters.

I scoff, standing up, and walking over to the sink. I grab a cup from the cupboard, and pour myself a glass of water from the tap.

“They make it pretty hard these days. Y’know, crossing the border.” I add.

He smiles, a weak, weary expression on his face. He looks down at his hands.

“For the time being, I don’t mind being here. As long as you promise no one is gonna find me.”

“They won’t, and they never will. I told you, once you help me with this, you are free to go. I will get you out of here, family in hand, no problem.”

He stares at me for a moment. It’s silent. He watches me with squinted eyes.

“What's all this about gas stoves? You pyrokinetic?”

I start laughing, in fact, I start laughing really hard. So hard I have to bring a finger up to my eyes to wipe.

He chuckles now too, watching me.

“What?” He says.

“No, I’m sorry. It was just funny, the way that you said it, I mean.”

“So, you are?”

“What?”

“A pyrokinetic.”

“Oh, God no.”

“Then what the fuck is your deal with gas stoves, little girl?” He grills, concerned.

“Okay, first of all, I’m not a little girl. I am an adult.” I gesture down to my obvious adult body.

“Yeah, whatever. You’re at least a hundred years younger than me, so.”

There is silence, until.

“It’s my senses, by the way. Since you’re curious, I mean.” I say suddenly.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“My five senses, they are all heightened.”

“What, like taste and shit?”

“Yes, taste and shit.” I snort.

“You smell colors or something?” He jokes.

“Sometimes.” I say, shrugging my shoulders. I begin to walk off into the bedroom.

“Wait, what?” He glares at me questionably.

“I’m going to sleep.” I ignore him.

“I’m sorry, did you say you could smell colors?”

“Goodnight, Ben.” I put emphasis on his name, knowing he never told it to me. He grins. I start to close the door, he shouts to me from his spot on the couch.

“Leave the door unlocked, I’ll be in there in a few.”

“Nice try.” I say.

“A queen is plenty big for two!”

“So is that pullout couch.”

He groans as I close the door behind me.

As I fall asleep, I can only hope for the best. As God as my witness, I would never mean to lie about something as big as family. Especially since I don’t even have one to enjoy. I’d do anything for that. At this point though, my game plan would be; get revenge on Vought, face the consequences from him, and inevitably die. That sounds like a dream. I’d go out with a smile knowing my success in Vought slaughter. May he blow me up into a million little pieces.

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