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zialltops · 5 months

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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way.

Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.

a/n: phew this chapter was hard to write because all i want it for them to kiss already. these two are so at each others throats that i cant WAIT to write that in the form of the devils tango. please let me know what you guys think, comments fuel my desire to write🤍

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Chapter 2: Northern Attitude

Three days of bad weather pass before Joel is able to get the truck out of the snow to drag your car out of the embankment—but he chooses not to anyway. He’s spent the last three days working and avoiding you, because he can’t keep his head from spouting off about how much you piss him off and how good you look doing it.

And piss him off, you do. The morning after your first night home, Joel was shoveling off the steps and the front driveway when you came out of the house in a pair of pants that look like they have been in your closet for years because god damn, they are tight. He doesn’t miss the look on your face when you find your way into the snow where he’s working. “Like my stupid fucking shoes? I wore them so I’d look nice when I saw my parents—thought there was some delicious cowboy here to impress. But now they are all I have to wear because some bullheaded asshole left my car on the side of the road with all of my belongings in it.”

Him, being the bullheaded asshole instead of the delicious cowboy. He’s fuming, if he wasn’t already panting, he’s sure there would be steam rolling out of his ears right about now. He can't stand you. Cant stand your cocky attitude and the way you hold your hands on your hip’s—those sexy little fucking—Joel! “Should have known better than to show up in the middle of winter in those damn heels. You did that to yourself. You should know the only thing you’re findin’ here is cow shit and snow.” You cross your arms and look over his shoulder. “Yeah—nothing but bullshit here.” He turns to find Tommy, his eyes on your figure in your stupidly tight outfit, he’d always been the bolder of the two. “Nice shoes…y’know, they do seem practical, you’re a few inches above the cold, y’know? Don’t ya think, Joel?” You smile at him and Joel sees red, that trading asshole. “Y’know, I was still gonna pull you out, bullheaded asshole here was the one who insisted we leave you.”

If Joel was a better man, he’d tell his brother to fuck off—but he’s not, so he socks him in the mouth and gives him a nasty bruise and a split lip. Both of you hightail it away from the driveway and Joel gets back to his shoveling.

Since that day, it’s been a non-stop onslaught of demeaning remarks. You sneer at him when you pass him in the halls, so he sticks to the hunting cabin he and Tommy occupy for a whole day. When he comes in for supper, you sneer at him again. “What, do you just hide out all day, doing jack shit?” He started this, he knows that, and there isn’t much he can do since he left you for dead on the side of the road a few days ago. He huffs at you when he sits down across from you while everyone else gets their plates in the kitchen. His voice is somewhere between a whisper and an aggravated shout. “I’ve been taking care of the cattle, what the hell have you been doing all day, huh? With that big fancy degree? Hid in the house all day and do your nails?” The nails in question are a sharp blue color, a homage to the crisp skies as the sun sets amongst the gloomy clouds, radiating dark indigo across the plains. His stomach curls when his brain supplies the image of them wrapped around his cock—both your little hands, manicured and soft and—son of a—“Actually, I think I forgot to check the fences. Miss Lou, do you mind if I pack this up to go?” He did forget, and he should do that, but it could have waited another day. He really needs a reason to get away from your accusing eyes right now, away from the way you unwillingly make him feel ridged all over.

He checks all the fences on the half mile walk to the hunting cabin, eats his supper at the sad little table and tries (he fucking tries, okay?) to keep his hands off himself. It aches, aches when he gets hard, like a damn weight between his legs that makes him feel dizzy from lack of blood in his poor muddled brain. He gets crazy—can't stand the thought of another person having so much control over his senses that he can't control his own bodily functions. He hates that you’ve weaseled your way in to his weaknesses—pretty eyes, smarter than him, hard to get with an attitude. It pisses him off so bad that his body reacts before his mind can gain clarity enough to tell himself no. But how can he, when all he can think about is what this is doing to him.

He cant stop thinking about how much of a bitch you are, about the type of men you probably pulled while off in collage and how you expected some kind of Adonis and what you got was just Joel. Your disappointment in his mere existence does nothing to flag how hard he is when he finally gets his hands in his pants. It should be alarming how fast he’s got himself on the edge on the image of you glaring him down, blackmailing him just so he can be your own personal verbal punching bag.

What the fuck is wrong with him, that being treated like garbage gets him so worked up. Is it because he knows it's something he'll never have? Like nothing else in the world can, you’ve got him hot and stiff in his large hand, after three days of knowing you, his head tipped back against his pillow and his eternal gratefulness that Tommy is still eating supper at the main house. At least he wont have to witness the way Joel’s resolve goes down the drain when he thinks about those pretty eyes, those nimble fingers and that bratty little attitude. He cums when he thinks about your stupid fucking shoes and how angry you are at him that you’re stuck wearing them.

Tomorrow, he’ll tell you he still cant get your car out, even if all the fucking snow melts, just so he can watch you walk around in them for a little longer, so he can hate you a little bit more. Maybe his distaste will bleed out the want, but Joel has never been that lucky.

———

It’s damn late by the time Tommy makes it home—or maybe it’s not, but Joel's guilty hand found the neck of a bottle a few moments after washing it clean, so he’s completely lost track of time. Drowning his troubles was the best thing he could come up with, so he tipped the bottle back until it was empty and his head felt like it was in a fish bowl.

The door throws open when he’s leaned all the way back in a chair at the little dining table, his bottle sitting empty in front of him and his mind reeling. “Close the damn door, it’s freezing!” He doesn’t open his eyes, because he’s got the spins and the last thing he wants to do right now is throw up.

“Aint me.” He hears Tommy’s voice somewhere in the living room and he finally peeks an eye open and glances towards the door.

“You really are a piece of work, aren’t you?” It’s you, standing in the doorway and letting in all the cold residing outside of these walls. Joel attempts to lean forward, but his weight wobbles and the chair falls backwards on the hardwood. “This is why this ranch doesn’t make any profit. You spend your days drunk off your ass, don’t you?” Her tone is so accusing and snappy, if Joel had half a mind he would pull himself off this floor and give her a piece of it.

“S’the end of the day, I’m not workin’, ‘n I can do whatever I want.” He pulls himself up using the table and he stand there for a moment, trying to let his head catch up with the rest of his body. “I came down here to tell you I want my car out tomorrow morning first thing. But, by the looks of it you wont be good for a damn thing in the morning.”

He groans and walks over to the door on wobbly legs, his vision is blurry but the drunk part of his brain supplies that you walked all the way here with Tommy just to bark orders at him. So, Tommy is definitely a fucking traitor, getting cozy with you when he knows how irritating Joel finds you to be. Even if you look damn good with those wind bitten red cheeks that would look so good hallowed out around his—c’mon, Joel. “I’ll be up before you, smartass. I have livestock to feed, ‘sides, I told you I'd pull it out when I could. Snow’s still too thick.” Joel uses the door frame to hold him up while you look him over from the porch. “I wasn’t asking you to pull it out, Im telling you.” Telling him? Like he’s not his own goddamned person, who makes decisions around here of his own? Hank asked him over a year ago to manage the ranch on his own—he’s been the one calling the shots here for some time, so what gives you the right to stand on his porch and tell him what he’s going to do?

“You might be the all reining princess in their eyes, but do not push me, Honey. I’m not the one to fuck with,” your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest like that might somehow make him second guess his boldness. You take a few steps closer and puff your chest out, point your nose up at him with a hard glare. “What are you going to do about it, huh? Not a damn thing.” Actually, one thing does come to mind and it takes everything in Joels power not to grab you by your hair and bend you over the back of the couch, show you exactly what he’s going to do about it.

Instead, he stands there in the frigid air, looking down at you like a pissed off little mouse staring down an alley cat, so fucking brave that he questions if he’s an alley cat at all. “When you can run this ranch by yourself, then you can look down your nose at me, but until then, you’re going to need some taller stupid fucking shoes.” He wouldn’t have the balls to say these things to you if not for the whiskey burning through his veins. Actually, he’s been pretty weary of telling you off, because the last thing he needs is you telling your parents, who obviously would believe you over him. But right now? Fresh off half a bottle and a mind numbing orgasm? He has all the courage in the world.

“I want my car out. I want my things and my clothes. You have until tomorrow night, or my parents can find new ranch hands.” He scoffs and his anxiety only bubbles up a little bit—he’ll pay for it tomorrow, but right now he’s pissed. “Well you better hurry back there and get on it. I’ll tell ya what—I’ll even help you hang up the flyers, hows that sound?” Your face is beat red in an attempt to contain your anger, your eyebrows are drawn together in the kind of pout that makes Joel chub up in his sleep pants. He’d rather sleep out in the snow than to have you see the way your attempt at aggravation works him up, so he starts to close the door on himself. “Better get to it, unless you want to be the one up at four thirty to feed.” He closes the door, turns his body and lets himself slump against the wood. His palm finds the front of his pants and he pushes, attempting to quell the sudden rush of blood that makes his head spin more than the alcohol in his system. “Damn…she’s gettin’ to you, huh?”

It’s Tommy’s obnoxious fucking voice in his head, standing near the hallway to the two small bedrooms. “Fuck off, Tommy, you know how it is for me.” The younger man laughs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I'm just sayin’, it’s kind of funny. Nobody gets under your skin like that. Does fightin’ really do it for you?” His voice is dripping with amusement and Joel wants to punch him again. “It ain’t the fightin’.” Tommy rolls his eyes when Joel reaches into his pants to adjust the discomfort. “Oh, thats right. Your shitty attitude comes sometime after she gets your big ol’—“ Joel growls at him, ”Tommy, if you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’m going to drag you out in the snow and beat your ass.”

It does the trick, because Tommy knows Joel isn’t kidding, he’s always been the stronger of the two, the one who’s always put Tommy in his place and he’s never been afraid to sock him square in his mouth when he runs it like he is now. “You know it bothers me when I can't control it. I can’t hide it. And she just—she—she’s one of them girls you know? The one’s that you don’t stand a chance with but they rub it in your face anyways and I can’t fucking stand it. It’s embarrassin’.”

He leans away from the door and makes his way over to the couch. When he plops down, his head finds his hands and he drags his calloused fingers through his curly, wind whipped locks. “What if you did stand a chance? Been a really long time since you’ve let yourself have anything.” Tommy finds the seat beside him and their heated argument shifts into a tender conversation, one brother to another, one man to his best friend in the whole world. “Ain’t about what I can have, tom, she’s Hanks daughter and I’m double her age, at least. This,” he gestures to himself vaguely. “This is the last thing a girl like her wants to get themselves tied up in. Can’t—one and done it like you can. Takes some…workin’ up to.”

Tommy pushes his shoulder with a small snort. “Always wondered how you got that thing in anyone.” He hasn’t wondered—he’s asked for years, and Joel being the closed off man he is, never had the heart to spill his bed-mates secrets. But there hasn’t been anyone for years, certainly not someone like you who can get him going faster than anyone he’s ever met. “Just—lots of…stretching. Things I can't do during a tumble in the hay, alright? And not everyone wants to deal with that—fuck know’s I don’t.”

Deal with the rejection of someone seeing him naked and kindly (or not so kindly) telling him that they aren’t interested anymore, deal with the look of shock women give him when he’s pressed up against them—when they feel it. He’s tired of it—so he doesn’t try anymore. Having you at his doorstep, flooring that desire in him? He can't deal with that. “I always thought it would be kind of an appeal to women, don’t they like that? I mean, I didn’t get your genes but I’m not doin’ too bad, they seem to like it.” Not doing too bad? To be normal, lead a normal life where he doesn’t have to bring anxieties to a moment he should only bring pleasure? “It ain’t all puppies and rainbows, man…nine times out of ten were good and they’re into it until I get my pants off. Then they hightail it out of there before I even have a chance to explain myself.”

It’s an embarrassing conversation to have with your brother, but Joel is grateful that he at least has someone he can talk about this with, above all else. The years he’s struggled, the supposed highs that only led to disappointment. It's been one minuscule moment of rejection after another, and he’s not asking for a lot, just to feel what everyone else gets to feel—normal, wanted, less like a freak and more like something to be desired. All for something he can’t change about himself, because believe him he wants to.

“I’m sorry man…I can’t relate, but I know how hard it is for you. One day, some crazy bitch is going to love your…terrifying dick.” He snorts loudly and rolls his eyes at his little brother. “Today ain’t the day, but thanks, Tom…” his head is still spinning and if he doesn’t go to bed soon, he won't make it out to feed before the sun hits the horizon. Tommy heads to his room, but Joel finds a blanket and curls up on the couch with a trash can at his side—just incase he needs to throw up before morning comes and he sobers up.

———

He does make it out to feed. It takes him an hour to get a hundred and fifty heads of cattle fed—he can’t wait till spring when they can be turned out to pasture, when half of them are sold off and the breeding season restarts. The cold, stand still winters drive him crazy on every ranch he’s ever worked, but this one more than most, because the cold is bone deep and there's you now, to drive him crazy in every possible direction.

When he’s done with the cattle, he takes inventory of the feed room, make’s a list to take with himself to town when the roads are cleared, then makes his way over to the stable. If there is one thing he can find solitude in, it’s snorting, fussing, grouchy ass horses early in the morning. They’ll kick at the stalls until he’s filled their feeders, snort cold air at him like they don’t want his company—he finds a lot of himself in the equine’s, misunderstood unless you get to know them like he has. He finds that his favorite place to be is in a saddle, pushing cattle through spring summer and fall, just him and them and all the trust in each other they have to offer.

Once they are fed, he finds his tack bucket and pulls open the stall to a young mare they’d bought last summer. She was ready to break this spring, but Hank had all but given up on the Morgan. So much so that he’d handed Joel her bridle one morning and told him “if you can get through to her, she’s all yours, son.”

She wasn’t a big horse, compared to others over her breed, but she had an untamable mane and tail that Joel has to keep braided or it becomes a rat's nest. She’s all over the place, spooky with a fear of water that Joel can't seem to help her get over. For such a pretty little Palomino, she sure has a lot of fight in her.

“Hey, pissy girl.” He hums when she flicks her tail at him, pulling her head out of her feeder just long enough to look back at him. He’s been the only person she lets in the stall since they got her, the only person who can give her a good brush down and stand behind her without getting a hoof to the chest. “Don’t look at me like that, okay? I had stuff to do before I could bring you guys breakfast. Besides, you’re gettin’ fat.” He pats her on her flank, watches dust come up under his hand. He starts brushing her down when he hears the stable doors come open. He knows it's not Tommy, because he’s in the north field checking on the heifers who are getting ready to calf. They still have a few more weeks, but it's good to keep track in the middle of the kind of storms they’ve been getting. The last thing they need is losing a calf to this kind of cold.

“Joel? You in here?” It’s Hanks booming voice in the desolate stable. “Yeah, I’m in here Hank!” He sets down the brush and steps out of the stall because he knows Hank won't come in it. “I was tryin’ to find you before my daughter did. She been through here yet?” His stomach drops and curls—did she tell him? About the argument they had on his porch last night? That he was drunk off his ass drowning his emotions like he always has? “I don’t know what she might have…told you, but it was at home—the cows were good, animals fed, I wasn’t—“ Hank makes a face and shakes his head. “Son, I ain’t mad at you for nothin’. I told her you’re allowed to have a few drinks when you’re done with your work. She can be very…aggravating, if anyone knows that it's me. I just wanted to apologize before she comes in a raging ball of fire because shes embarrassed about her shoes.”

Embarrassed? She’s embarrassed about walking around in those boots that make her ass look like it was sculpted by gods? Those damn shoes that can get him hard in an instant? “She’s embarrassed about them?”

Hank cracks a soft smile and puts his hands on his hips. “Most of that fire comes from a hurt place. She's all bark and no bite—“ Joel scoffs. “She just about bit my head off last night. I might have said some things I shouldn’t have.” Hank has always been understanding and kind the entire time Joel has known him. “I know, we talked about it. She said I need new ranch hands and I told her I don’t trust anyone to run this ranch but you. Don’t worry, I won't let her run you off. I really thought college would set her straight, but she’s still got that stubborn attitude of hers. Just—keep yourself busy and she’ll give up eventually. Don’t be afraid to defend yourself, either. I’m not going to get mad at you for standing up to her.”

Its more of a relief than he thought it would be to hear Hank stick up for him. You must have ran home to tattle on him, but knowing Hank has his back eases the anxiousness built up in him from the night before. “Anyways…when you see her, maybe Tommy can take her to get her things until we can get her car out, so she can get off of everyones back.” It’s going to have to be Tommy—there's no way in hell Joel can handle being in a car with her by himself with his current situation. “Absolutely, thank you Hank.” The man heads out the door with a genuine smile. “Don’t be too late for breakfast! Louise made fresh jam.”

Breakfast sounds like a dream to his empty stomach, so he gets back to the task at hand so he can spare himself a few minutes of downtime to eat before he gets back to work. He steps back into the stall, runs his hand across the top of his horse's back and sighs. “Maybe I should cut her some slack, huh Cersei? You’re kind of a bitch, but you’re still my favorite girl.” The horse nickers at him, flicks her tail and waits patiently for him to get back to brushing out her winter coat.

———

It’s breakfast when he finally sets eyes on you again, but you aren’t in those damn shoes—you’re barefoot like that's somehow any better. You’re barefoot in what looks like an old pair of your pajamas, like you just rolled out of bed when it’s already eight in the morning. “Look what the cat dragged in.” You sneer at him a little when he sits down across from you with his plate. Tommy hasn’t made it inside yet and Hank and Louise are in the living-room after they’ve already finished eating.

“I’ve been up for hours, what were you doing? Cant learn to manage a ranch if you sleep until eight in the morning.” Joel feels like he has the upper hand, and based on the look on your face, you know it too. “That’s what I have you for, to do all the grunt shit I don’t want to. I slept like a baby.” Joel on the other hand tossed and turned all night, willing away his morning wood for hours until he finally gave in and wrapped his hand around himself in the dark of his room under his soft quilt, where your prying eyes couldn’t reach.

It’s the only damn thing keeping him from chubbing up in his jeans, looking at you across the table in a pair of sleep shorts that ride up and leave little to his imagination. He thinks about how easy it would be to pull them aside and slip his fingers through your lips—if he would be able to get you wet. It’s enough to get him excited, so he tries to find a way out before it becomes too big of a problem.

“Where are you going?” He looks down at his plate, devising a plan to leave with it, so he can at least finish his breakfast. “Uhm…I have a lot to do today, figured I would get back to it while the day is young.” You push your chair back and stand as well, Joel’s eyes must have a mind of their own because they track up your bare thighs to the bottom of your shorts that have ridden up so much the fabric is pulled tight along the outline of your center—goddamn he can fucking see your pussy. He makes a sharp sound, choking on the spit building up in his mouth as it waters.

“You aren’t doing anything until you get my car out, you hear me? I’m not walking around another second like this.” You gesture to yourself—Joel couldn’t agree more. You need to wear clothes that fit you if he wants to keep his dick to himself. “Tommy is going to take you, he’ll be in soon.” You shake your head at him with a huff. “No, I don’t want Tommy taking me, he’s not the one responsible for leaving my car in the snow. You are getting my car out.”

He wants to argue some more, but arguing with you makes him horny and the last thing he needs is to be that worked up in a car with you for an extended period of time.

“Fuck—alright, fine—give me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet you at the truck.”

It’s a shit ass excuse to run back to the cabin and spend ten minutes jacking off as fast as he can fucking manage so he can control himself in the truck. It’s a futile attempt to control the way Hanks spitfire of a daughter makes him hotter than the surface of the sun.

You are going to be the death of him.

#cowboy joel miller #cowboy joel #cowboy au #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel the last of us #joel tlou #enemies to lovers #set in Wyoming #dbf joel miller

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curiositymemes · 1 month

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STICK SEASON: WE'LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER.

taken from the 2023 album by noah kahan. trigger warnings for mental illness, trauma, medication, references to suicide, and the exquisite agony of life in rural new england. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

northern attitude.

how you been?

you settled down?

you feelin’ right?

you feelin’ proud?

you settle in to routine.

what does it mean?

i’m not how you hoped.

you’re gettin’ lost.

scared to live, scared to die.

you’re feelin’ lost.

stick season.

you must’ve had yourself a change of heart.

now i am stuck between my anger and the blame that i can’t face.

it’s half my fault, but i just like to play the victim.

i’ll dream each night of some version of you that i might not have but i did not lose.

i thought that if i piled something good on all my bad i could cancel out the darkness i inherited from dad.

i miss the way you laugh.

you once called me forever now you still can’t call me back.

that’ll have to do.

my other half was you.

i hope this pain’s just passin’ through, but i doubt it.

all my love.

how have things been?

well, love, now that you mention it.

i’m sayin’ too much, but you know how it gets out here.

now i know your name, but not who you are.

it’s all okay, there ain’t a drop of bad blood.

you got all my love.

if you need me, dear, i’m the same as i was.

what i’d give to have you out of me.

i still recall how the leather in your car feels.

and at the end of it all, i just hope that your scars heal.

i swear i was scared to death.

i smiled stupid the whole way home.

you said, ‘i’ll never let you go.’

she calls me back.

there was heaven in your eyes.

everything’s alright.

look at me and don’t you lie.

don’t you hold your head up high.

for bullshit, i do not have time.

do you lie awake restless?

why am i so obsessive?

this town’s the same as you left it.

the radio is taunting me.

i don’t get much sleep most nights.

i’m seeing you in every dream.

if only i could fall asleep.

i’ll love you when the oceans dry.

i was too afraid of living life in your footsteps.

come over.

it was there when we got here, will be there when we leave.

you won’t have to guess who they’re speakin’ about.

i’m in the process of clearin’ out cobwebs.

i was takin’ the wrong meds; feels good to be sad.

my house is just barely big enough for my family.

my mouth was designed for my foot to fit in it.

i promise you, darlin’.

you won’t ever go back.

i know that it ain’t much.

i know that it ain’t cool.

you don’t have to tell the other kids at school.

someday i’m gonna be somebody people want.

new perspective.

makin’ me nostalgic.

we were kids; but that don’t make this less hard.

if i could fly i doubt i’d even do it.

i’d probably get high and crash or somethin’ stupid.

gave me your word.

i can’t pronounce it.

no thing so sure that i can’t learn to doubt it.

everywhere, everything.

would we survive in a horror movie?

we trust everyone we meet.

we’re littered with scars from our preteens.

i wanna love you ‘til we’re food for the worms to eat.

‘til our fingers decompose, keep my hand in yours.

i know every route in this county.

maybe that ain’t such a bad thing.

i’ll tell you where not to speed.

it’s been a long year.

orange juice.

honey, come over.

it’s yours if you want it.

we’re just glad you could visit.

feels like i’ve been ready for you to come home for so long.

i didn’t think to ask you where you’d gone.

why’d you go?

my heart has changed and my soul has changed.

you just asked me to hold you.

it made you a stranger and it filled you with anger.

my life has changed.

the world has changed.

don’t you find it strange that you just went ahead and carried on?

are we all just pullin’ you down?

strawberry wine.

darling, speak to me.

don’t you say a word.

you thought you were cursed?

i’m in love with every song you’ve ever heard.

if i could lose you, i would.

all the time we used to have.

the things i miss but know are never coming back.

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft.

growing sideways.

finally found some middle ground.

i said, ‘i’m cured.’

i divvied up my anger into thirty separate parts.

i’m still angry at my parents for what their parents did to them.

it’s a start.

but i ignore things and i move sideways ‘til i forget what i felt in the first place.

i know there are worse ways to stay alive.

everyone’s growing and everyone’s healthy.

if my engine works perfect on empty, i guess i’ll drive.

i forgot my medication, fell into a manic high.

now i’m sufferin’ in style.

why is pain so damn impatient? ain’t like it’s got a place to be.

if all my time was wasted, i don’t mind.

i’ll watch it go.

it’s better to die numb than feel it all.

halloween.

the dawn isn’t here, the sun hasn’t rose.

they got money to make and children back home.

i worry for you, you worry for me.

the bridges have long since been burnt.

i’m leavin’ this town and i’m changin’ my address.

i know that you’ll come if you want.

i’m losin’ myself.

i’m seein’ my life on a screen.

i know that you fear that i’m wicked and weary.

i know that you’re fearin’ the end.

i only tell the truth when i’m sure that i’m lyin’.

homesick.

are you bored yet?

the weather ain’t been bad if you’re into masochistic bullshit.

this place is such great motivation for anyone tryna move the fuck away from hibernation.

time moves so damn slow i swear i feel my organs failing.

i stopped caring ‘bout a month ago, since then it’s been smooth sailing.

i would leave if only i could find a reason.

i got dreams, but i cant make myself believe them.

i’ll spend the rest of my life with what could have been.

i will die in the house that i grew up in.

i’m homesick.

still.

i don’t wanna say goodbye.

it only falls into place when you’re fallin’ to pieces.

you miss something that you can’t place but you can’t deny it.

you can’t stay here.

it’s hard to face and it feels too ugly.

it’s like i’m still here with you.

can i fix what is broken?

the view between villages (extended).

for a minute, the world seems so simple.

i am not scared of death.

i’ve got dreams again.

there is meanin’ on earth.

i feel so far from it.

it’s all washin’ over me.

i’m angry again.

the things that i lost here, the people i knew.

they got me surrounded for a mile or two.

i found a town big enough for anything i want.

i’m not a city girl, by any means.

it still has a lot of meaning to me.

i grew up there.

your needs, my needs.

you ain’t gotta tell me what it means.

i promise to be there this time. alright?

you were a work of art.

that’s the hardest part.

i’m naming the stars in the sky after you.

dial drunk.

i promised to forget you.

i ain’t takin’ any fault.

am i half the man i used to be? i doubt it.

forget about it, whatever.

it’s all the same anyways.

i ain’t proud of all the punches that i’ve thrown.

for the shame of being young, drunk, and alone.

i gave your name as my emergency phone call.

i’d die for you.

from charmin’ to alarmin’ in seconds.

i’ll let the pain metastasize.

i beg you, sir, just let me call.

let’s wait, i swear she’ll call me back.

son, are you a danger to yourself?

fuck that, sir.

son, why do you do this to yourself?

paul revere.

this place had a heartbeat in its day.

nothin’ was the same.

it just ain’t that simple, it never was.

one day i’m gonna cut it clear.

i’m not from around here.

i’ll leave before the road crew’s out.

i’ll turn up the music and i’ll forget.

i’m not ready to let go yet.

i’ll just pretend i didn’t hear.

it’s typical, i fear.

folks just disappear.

if i could leave, i would’ve already left.

no complaints.

i thought i had something and that’s the same as having something.

i get mad at nothing.

i pull no punches, then feel bad for months.

thought i was raised better, tried to fake better.

now the weight of the world ain’t so bad.

i saw the end, it looks just like the middle.

i filled the hole in my head with prescription medication.

who am i to complain?

now the pain’s different. It still exists, it just escapes different.

yes, i’m young and living dreams.

i’m in love with being noticed and afraid of being seen.

call your mom.

oh, you’re spiralin’ again.

don’t you cancel any plans.

stayed on the line with you the entire night ‘til you let it out and let it in.

don’t let this darkness fool you.

i’ll drive all night.

i’ll call your mom.

oh, dear, don’t be discouraged.

i’ve been exactly where you are.

if you could see yourself like this.

you’dve never tried it.

stayed on the line with you the entire night ‘til you told me that you had to go.

throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason.

don’t wanna drive another mile wonderin’ if you’re breathin’.

won’t you stay with me?

you’re gonna go far.

this is good land, or at least it was.

it takes a strong hand and a sound mind.

it makes me smile to know when things get hard, you’ll be far from here.

pack up your car.

put a hand to your heart.

say whatever you feel.

be wherever you are.

we ain’t angry at you, love.

you’re the greatest thing we’ve lost.

the birds will still sing.

we’ll be waiting for you, love.

we’ll all be here forever.

we spent so long just getting by.

that’s the thing about survival; who the hell likes livin’ just to die?

you told me you would make a difference.

it won’t be by your own volition if you step foot outside this town.

it’s all we’ve had for always.

you’re gonna go far.

if you wanna go far, then you gotta go far.

forever.

let’s drive for no reason.

you look fine in the evening.

honey, it’s starting to storm.

used to wish i meant anything to anywhere, to anyone.

i’m glad i get forever to see where you end.

i won’t be alone for the rest of my life.

i’ll meet a girl in the heat of july.

i’ll tell her so she knows.

i’m broke, but i’m real rich in my head.

when i hold her close, i might loosen my grip, but i won’t ever let her go.

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xxavengingangelxx · 4 months

Text

Somewhere Only We Know - Epilogue

I'm conflicted as to whether or not I should post this. It's a cliffhanger. I just can't seem to let go of this fic! I want to add more to the epilogue but can't seem to get sudden writer's block. :( I figured something is better than nothing since I promised an epilogue. Just don't hate meeee! I plan on adding to it it just won't be too long.

Notes: No trigger warnings in this one :)

Taglist: @unicorngirly1, @shepgurl, @bellgraves, @lily-lily131313, @sharksausages

Epilogue

“What’re you doing over there?”

Graves was tossing something, some papers, with some handwritten notes, into the dying embers of the fireplace. You were on the couch, a tiny 3-month-old next to you, sound asleep. Well, he sure hadn’t felt small when he was being born.

“Nothin’,” Graves responded. He wiped his hands on his jeans.

“Yeah well that ‘nothin’ is gonna get you burned, commander,” you responded with a smirk.

“Just some useless notes,” Graves shrugged. He sat next to you roughly. Almost collapsed next to you. He sighed, almost as if he had just ridded himself of something that had been weighing on him.

“If you wake him up, he’s yours for the night,” you quipped.

“I don’t mind,” he grabbed beer.

“So gonna get drunk when he’s done breastfeeding,”

“No, the hell you are, Val,”

Graves was gone in the morning but you were expecting him to be. CIA had called. It was the first time since…well since you’d decided to go with Graves in Las Almas all those months ago that he had given you free reign of the house. No Graves, no Shadows. Just you and Rett.

A new hit job with the CIA had promised a big payout. So Graves had taken himself and his top men on it. Other Shadows were overseas while still other groups were working jobs all over the US. Graves had stopped gong overseas at your request, though.

Things were quiet, settled down. Finally.

Congress had come knocking a week back. Again. They had again pressed you on whether or not you had been tortured at the hands of Shadow, even going as far as interviewing you behind locked doors. Without Graves. You remember they had asked you why you looked tired and if you’d been coached the night before. And you remembered telling their stupid asses that no, geniuses, you had not been coached, but that you had a 3-month-old at home and that was why you were tired.

They gave up after two days of questioning.

But now you and Graves were free of Congress’s hypocritical bullshit.

And you had free reign of your house. You two finally had a house. Granted it was in the middle of nowhere in northern Texas, close to Oklahoma, but it was a house. It was chilly in the house this morning because it was cold outside and there was something wrong with the heater. Graves said he’d found someone to stop by and look at it and to just keep an eye out for the person.

In the meantime, you had on extra layers and Rett was bundled up.

You couldn’t go too crazy at home. There were cameras in every common area of the house.

There was a knock on the door and you checked the outside camera before seeing it belonged to a heating and air-conditioning company. You opened the door…and were taken aback.

The man was much taller and stockier than he had initially appeared on the camera.

When he greeted you, he had a unique accent. One you wanted to place. It was on the tip of your tongue but your exhausted brain was refusing to work.

“Your husband called?”

“Yes, sir,” you smiled, but only out of politeness. You reminded yourself that you were alone.

“I’ll get you and your son all fixed up,”

You…when had you told him you had a son? Maybe he had seen the SUV with the huge car seat, clearly for a boy, outside, you reasoned.

“My name’s Andrei,”

#phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #graves x reader #cod mw3 #longwayfromhome #somewhere only we know

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randomnameless · 9 days

Note

To continue the woobified view of the Elites and my comparison of them to the Black Eagles :

Same for me regarding the BE, especially because they also literally fought Edelgard's troops in WC when you choose their house, and even if you don't, they definitely still would know that Edelgard dus nasty shits in WC.

The idea that media literacy is dead is quite fitting, because the idea that even rotten persons have loved ones/that having loved ones doesn't mean you're not rotten is a known thing, yet the Eagles and elites get a pass solely because "they genuinely believe in the cause" and "they love and care for each other"

Probably Fraldarius was as devoted to Nemesis as Ingrid to Dimitri, Lamine very well may have been as sassy as Dorothea, perhaps Goneril was as brave and endearing as Caspar, or Maurice was as loyal to his clan's interests as Petra to Brigid's happiness (through a strong bond to the Empire) but like the BE, they are butchers, who relished in the destruction of everything those against them hold dear, lap dogs and rabid curs of someone they definitely know have crushed innocents and scorn the very idea of peace except under their domination.

The only meaningful difference between Edelgard-following BE and the elites is that we can know more about the BE and we are forced to dislike cutting them down even as they refuse to let northern Fódlan alone.

Honestly I need a fanfiction where the BE are called out for that bullshit.

Yep!

That's the tone deaf feeling I got from Nopes, the Deers are hunting someone bcs their leader wants her dead for no reason, but Raph only comments on how hungry he is.

Uh, sure Raph, you're not the most thoughtful character in there, but come on? Some commentary or exposition on what you're doing? Hello KT? Can we have characters be challenged or even react to the events of screen instead of wondering what's for dinner/teatime?

No??

I wouldn't say it's an issue of media litteracy being dead, but more something in the lines of people being more and more "all or nothing" nowadays, without any nuance and conflating liking a character with the idea/image that might project on you : if I like ASOIAF's Cersei, I don't think everything she does is "justified", but modern fandom, I feel like some people would categorize you as a "good" or "bad" person based on the characters you like, and it's just... not what fandom is or was supposed to be imo, I'm here to nerd and gush about favourite characters, not write litteral essays about the Geneva Convention.

Corollary is what, imo, made the Fodlan fandom hell : some people really take "criticism" against a character personally - sure the way FE16 was written invites projection, but at the end of the day, making a Berning Fire Joke is, just, making a joke about a bunch of pixels, nothing more.

Back to the BEs, they can have a sense of camaraderie and genuinely support each other... as they tear apart "people because Supreme Leader told me to" and fight side by side with Bob the Carpented who was turned into Waldi the demonic beast.

Ferdie can skewer Flayn on her father's lance because she is "a creature that has plagued humanity for ages" even if they reached a C support before shit hit the fan - and still protect Mercedes and Bernie from their abusing Fathers. Does that make him a great guy? A nuanced guy?

I think the trope is called "even evil people have loved ones" or something like that?

I don't think so, but he is no random one note villain sycophant either - now, what is the more annoying with the Fodlan games is how this dichotomy is never called upon : everything is just a giant blob or Hresvelg Grey ("morally grey" but only applied to Supreme Leader) where no one really is angry at her, and all the "sacrifices" she's making are off-screen while the characters on-screen always moan about her "ReFoRmS" and "IdEaLs" without talking about the cost bar some milquetoast "but war bad". And no one, in the game, will ever throw this hypocrisy to their face - Gallant Ferdinand will dream about the Opera as he wipes off the blood of a young woman who just wanted to return to the only home she had.

Yay.

FWIW, some mutuals and I have nothing but pure lols about Doro's line in the non-CF routes being "we killed Ferdie professor :'(" because, hey, why should I care more about Ferdie than about random loldier 55 ? Rhea? Felix? Claude? Ignatz?

Maybe the Elites were really friends and became """"nice""" persons with time, to their families and loved ones ?

Does this magically erase what they did before? Will that "good" they did erase all the "wrongs" they have previously done? Will theyr forever escape the consequences of their actions?

In a game that depicts Flamey as a terrorist for 11 chapters only to drop that plot point by the window to moan, again, about her "IdEaLs", "consequences" are maybe something you can eat as a snack, or throw in a trashcan.

So following the rules of this verse, given how Supreme Leader never receives flak for her Flamey stunts, why should the Elites receive any for what they did? Look, Maurice calls Daphnel his friend, surely he is not that bad of a man? Well yeah, he might have seduced women and planted a lot of wild oats here'n'there, but he cares about his friends!

Jeritza likes ice creams and cats! Surely it's more important to paint him as a cat lover than to deal with all the consequences of his stunt as the Death Knight, kidnapping and implied rekting young woman while he was in GM, under Flamey's orders, right?

Calling it now, after eviscerating Seteth's older brother, Goneril might have melted in front of one of Rhea's kittens, and adopted the cat asap. Surely that makes Goneril a "good" character right? And forget the entire "genocided a bunch of hippies living isolated in their village" stuff?

I don't have fanfics recs where the BEs are called hypocrites, but I confess I don't read a lot of fanfics in the FE16 fandom because of all of the aforementioned issues.

#maelor321 #replies #i don't even know if i replied to your ask lol #i disgressed and ranted #fandom woes #FE16 was designed as a game where you'd feel bad for fighting against 'your loved ones' aka precious students #the writing and execution is so artificial that they couldn't even make it believable for a second #so instead we are hit with giant signposts that read 'plz be sad now'#like Doro's we killed Ferdie sad uwus #or even Billy's choice in SS/VW of i don't want to kill Supreme Leader/I want to walk with her uwu #she is revealed to be Flamey she has been warring for 5 long years she caught Rhea #she had so many randoms peons killed #and yet the game has the nerve to give us this?#evening salt #SW!Anakin loves his fiancee so much uwu #sure he murders a bunch of babies and toddlers but don't you want to walk with him to create a galactic empire and kill #people who don't agree with him? including his beloved wife?#people conflate nuance and 'grey' with 'my fave did nothing wrong'

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broiderie · 2 months

Text

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 27

Well... apparently having the two weeks from hell means that I go on a writing spree. I still have like half a notebook plus some more that's already written. I'll probably type some more up tomorrow. For now, I'm exhausted - and a little drunk - so this is as far as I got today.

Warnings: cursing, fluff, and show level talking about illegal shit.

Don't steal my shit. This is the only place it's posted. If you see it somewhere else, it's stolen.

Angel was the last one inside. He rolled the stained glass door closed behind him.

Once everyone was seated, Bishop called the meeting to order. “Before we handle club business, we have some charter shit to discuss and bring to a vote.” He looked at Marcus. “Sorry, Padrino. New information.”

Marcus nodded.

Bishop lit a cigarette and leaned forward. “It was brought to our attention that there is another tunnel to Mexico right in our backyard.” He paused and looked at Angel. “Tell them.”

Angel took a deep breath and leaned forward as well, folding his hands on the table. Coco and Gilly both nodded at him. “When we raided the redneck ranch, Bishop sent us chasing Dennis. We told you he got away because he was shooting at us, and he did.” He paused and looked at Gilly. “It was also because while we were chasing him, Gilly and the Prospect fell into a hole in the ground. We stopped to pull them out. At first we thought it was some sort of animal den, but when we threw them down a light we found…”

Gilly took up the story. “It was a tunnel. A serious tunnel. We thought it was abandoned, but I went back to cover it up the next day and decided to check it closer.” He shrugged. “That branch was abandoned, but it led to another one that was in use. Working lights, supply stashes - everything. The Southern end ends at a locked hatch about a half mile into Mexico, but the Northern end -”

Bishop finished it, “The Northern end comes out in the cellar of the Ariza house.”

Every eye turned to Riz.

He sighed. “That tunnel is older than I am. My grandfather helped dig it. It belongs to Vickie. She uses it to help her girls. You know most of them don’t have papers. That’s what I was doing this afternoon. One of the girls hadn’t seen her baby in weeks, so I brought her mom and the baby to visit.”

Taza shook his head. “You should have told us.”

Riz sat forward. “It’s not affecting the club at all. I didn’t think it mattered.”

Hank growled. “Didn’t matter? And if you’d been caught using it? You’re an officer of this club. They’d never believe we didn’t know about it.”

Bishop nodded sternly. “Hank’s right. You put us all in danger. We’re a club. Everything comes to the table, brother. You risked exposing us all without consulting us.”

“It’s not even my tunnel! There’s no action for the club!” Riz asserted.

Megan caught his eye. “There might not be any action, Riz, but there was risk. Every move we made would be suspect if someone found that tunnel that wasn’t us.” She shook her head. “We’d have lost the guns, the deal with the L.O. - everything.”

Taza agreed. “And it wouldn’t have stopped with our charter, brother. Every charter would be subject to suspicion. Probably even a R.I.C.O. investigation.”

Riz slammed himself backwards in his chair angrily.

Bishop raised a hand to forestall any more comments. “We need to vote this. Riz - step out.”

“This is bullshit!” Riz exploded and shoved himself back from the table before stomping out.

Megan shivered at his tone and reached to rub Rex’s ears under the table to hide her shaking hands. Hank slid her chair closer to his and his arm around her shoulders soothingly. It was only family. He could afford the affection in Templo.

Bishop ashed his cigarette and sighed. “We have to decide how serious this offense is.” He looked around and met everyone’s eyes. “Do we strip his patch?”

Megan sucked her breath in sharply but stayed silent. She didn’t have a say in this. She bit down hard on her bottom lip as Hank soothed her a bit by running his hand up and down her spine.

Creeper sighed and ran a hand over his bald head. “Man - it was stupid, but I don't think it was malicious. Riz would never risk the club on purpose.”

Coco lit a fresh smoke. “That’s true, but he still did it.”

Bishop sat back and sipped whiskey, but stayed out of the discussion.

Hank shook his head. “But stripping his patch? Riz lives for this club. It’s why we voted him Secretario.”

Taza agreed. “But we also can’t trust him with that job if he’s not considering the club when he makes his decisions - especially when he does something like this.”

Gilly nodded. “I agree.”

Bishop finally spoke. “So do we let him keep his patch, but strip his rank then?”

Taza nodded. “I’ll second that idea. Strip his rank. He’s left a full member with his vote, but not an officer.”

“And not eligible to hold office again for at least two years,” Hank agreed.

Nods went around the table. Bishop met everyone’s eyes. “Alright then. Let’s vote.”

The vote was unanimous. Taza stood to call Riz in, where Bishop informed him of the decision made by the club.

Riz drew his belt knife and cut the stitching that held his rank flash to his kutte and threw it on the table.

Bishop called for nominations for the position and it came to a unanimous vote that Angel took the flash - with Riz abstaining from the vote with Bishop’s blessing.

Once everything had settled, Bishop looked to the new Secretario. “Alright. Charter shit handled. Now - what did Adelita say?”

Angel smirked a bit. “La Princessa was right. Adelita and her people are the perfect ones to hide and keep those weapons for us. We saw their current camp. It’s impossible to find without the coordinates. We were right on top of it before we even knew it was there and their guards had us in sight long before that. And every mother fucker there is deadly. Kids included.” Angel lit a cigarette. “We just need to get them shipping details. The barrels can come into the port at Ensenada to a shell company that EZ has the details for. The L.O. will move it, assemble and guard. We just play delivery boys and deal with the buyers. L.O. gets twenty percent. SAMCRO gets five percent. Seventy-five percent of the profit goes to the club.”

Marcus grinned. “Everyone wins.”

Bishop chuckled. “Everyone wins. Any questions?”

Megan raised her hand and looked to Angel. “Did Adelita find out who was following us in the market?”

“Nah. She put a tail on them, but the kid lost them.” Angel shrugged. “She wants to keep meets to a minimum until we either figure it out or the first shipment gets here.”

Bishop nodded. “Any objection to Angel staying the go-between?” he asked before looking around. When there weren’t any, he nodded again. “Alright then. Any other business?” When no one had any, he banged the gael. “Good. We’re done here.”

Angel, Coco, and Gilly rose to leave with Riz right on their tail looking pissed.

Creeper sighed and pushed himself up. “They’ll be in the cage before sundown.”

Bishop nodded. “Probably, but that’s on them.”

“I’ll go supervise -” Creep agreed.

Bishop grinned. “You’re on your own, brother. We’ve got paperwork and Hank’s got a date.”

That made Creeper laugh and wink at Megan. “Alright. Fair enough.”

After he left, the elder members of the club all turned their eyes to Megan and Hank. “Hank, brother, don’t you have somewhere to be?” Bishop asked.

Hank laughed. “It’s all planned out. We can leave whenever mi reina is ready.”

Megan giggled and stood up. “Alright. We’re going. Don’t spend all of your time gossiping about us.” She petted Rex’s ears again. “His harness and leash are behind the bar. I’ll have EZ fill his bowls. Should I leave the Templo door cracked so he can get out or do you want it closed?”

Taza laughed and stood to hug her tightly. “The pooch will be fine. We’ll be home late, so don’t wait up for us. Enjoy yourself, Chica.” He kissed her forehead and she felt his lips move as he muttered something in Apache against the crown of her head.

Megan hugged him back and smiled. “We will. Have fun doing paperwork.” She grinned as she went to hug her tíos too. They both said their goodnights before Megan gave the command for Rex to stay with Taza and joined Hank at the door to Templo.

Hank led the way to the car with a grin. “Are you excited to get to ride the bike again, mi amore?”

Megan nodded enthusiastically and slid into the passenger seat as Hank held the door open for her. “I really am. I love my car - but nothing beats riding the bike.”

“Good. We’ll head home to change before we head out.”

“Where are we going?” Megan asked as he joined her in the front seat.

“I promised you dinner and dancing, mi reina. I haven’t forgotten.”

At the ranch, Hank hung up their kuttes when they came through the door. Then he tugged her close by her waist to plant a kiss on her lips. When he finally came up for air, he couldn’t help but smile at the slightly dazed look on her face. “Alright, mi princessa. I’m going to do something I normally wouldn’t do.”

“What’s that?” she asked a bit breathlessly.

He tilted her chin up so she’d meet his eyes. “I’m going to make a request for your outfit. Will you please wear a dress for tonight? I don’t care which one - but you deserve a nice night and the dress will help with that.”

She smiled up at him. “Alright. But - you have to let me surprise you.”

He chuckled. “Going to short circut my brain?”

“Hopefully.”

“Alright, mi amore. Let me grab my stuff and I’ll get ready in Taza’s room.”

Hank grabbed the hanging suit bag from the closet and smiled. “You need anything before I go, mi princessa?” he asked, pulling her left hand to his mouth to kiss her crown ring.

Megan smiled at him. “Will you help me change my earrings? I want to wear my pearls.”

“Of course, mi reina.” Hank carefully led her over to her dressing table and switched her earrings from the feathers he’d bought her to her crowned pearls. The backs were just too fiddly for her to do with the soft cast on. “Anything else?”

Megan touched the necklace she was wearing that matched Taza’s. “Can you help me swap this one out for grandmother’s pearls before you go?”

“Are you sure, mi amore? You haven’t taken it off since Taza gave it to you. You could leave it on,” Hank said, rubbing her shoulders gently.

“I’m sure. I’ve got my ring from Papa on. The pearls will look nice with the dress.” She smiled at him in the mirror.

Hank nodded and carefully worked the slide knots to loosen the turquoise and silver piece. He took the pearls from the wooden carved box on the vanity and carefully fastened the gold clasp. “There. Beautiful.”

Megan touched them and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He picked up his suit bag and kissed her softly. “Call if you need me.”

Hank quickly rinsed off the road dust in the hall shower before pulling the black suit that he usually wore to mass with Mama out. It was still pressed from the last time Mama had done it. He pulled the white collared shirt on over his wife beater and fussed with how high to button it. He couldn’t decide if the tie was a good idea. He finally decided against it and left his collar unbuttoned as well.

As he was fixing his hair, there was a knock at the door. He quickly went to answer it, calling out “I got it” so Megan wouldn’t come out.

EZ stood there with the biggest bouquet of mixed wild flowers and roses Hank could order in a vase with a grin on his face.

“Any trouble with the pick up?” Hank asked.

“Nah.” EZ handed him the flowers and a small white box.

“Good. Get going before she gets curious,” Hank told him with a grin.

EZ laughed quietly and threw his hands up in surrender for leaving Hank to finish getting ready.

In the bedroom, Megan also had quickly rinsed the tunnel dust off in the shower without getting her hair wet. She couldn’t do much with it with the soft cast still on, so she pinned her twin braids into a knot at the base of her skull. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best that she could do without Taza there to help. Besides, this way her helmet wouldn’t knock it too badly.

She slipped into the shorts Letty had bought her for dresses and figured out how to make the sticky bra work after a quick text chain with the teen herself. Then she stood in front of the dresses in her closet and froze.

Which dress? Hank had said “nice” but what did that mean, really? Before she could get too deeply in her head about it, Megan called Diana.

“Hola, Sweetheart. Everything alright?” Diana asked through the phone.

“Hey Tía. Sorry. I forgot you might still be driving. Everything’s fine. Just having a bit of a fashion trouble,” Megan assured her.

“You’re fine, Sweetie. I was just about to text you. We just got inside. What’s the matter?” Diana asked.

Megan could hear rustling as her aunt sat things down. “Well, Hank and I are finally going out tonight, but I’m not sure what to wear. He asked for dress because we’re going dancing.”

Tía Diana chuckled. “Ah. I understand. Can’t figure it out?”

“Yeah. Any chance you could help me?”

“Of course, Bebita. What’s Hank wearing?” she asked.

“He took his suit bag to change in Papa’s room.”

“Ah. Perfect. So he’s wearing a suit. What did the doctor say? Do we need to work around your sling?” Megan could hear the change as Diana sat down somewhere.

“No sling,” Megan told her.

“Beautiful. Alright, Sweetheart, swap me to video call so I can see what we’re working with.”

Megan carefully swapped the phone to a video call to show Diana her packed closet. “He said ‘nice’. What does that mean?”

Diana chuckled. “Good question. Which of these have you already worn?”

Diana walked Megan through narrowing down her choices. Both of the final contenders were very different. One was black with tiny spaghetti straps and a back that started right beneath her tattoo. The v-neck allowed her jewelry to be the spotlight as did the plain black fabric. The skirt went to just below her knees and was loose enough to be able to get on the bike.

The second dress was a deep red. The skirt was short, but full and would make a statement if they actually went dancing. It had a sweetheart neckline and straps that went off the shoulder. The back though, was where it really shined. The dress was backless to the small of her back, putting her tattoo on full display as well as a lot of her skin.

Either dress would pair nicely with the classic black ballet flats that were her only dress shoe option until after her quince.

“How do I figure out which to wear, Tía?” Megan asked, staring down at her two choices spread on her bed.

“How do you want the night to end?” Diana asked. “That should give you an idea of how daring you want to be.”

Megan felt her cheeks warm as she thought about Hank’s promises for after she was out of her sling.

Diana laughed. “That face screams red dress, Sweetheart. I left a lipstick that should be great with it on your dressing table along with an eyeliner pencil and mascara. I know you know how to use those even if you don’t do it often.” She smiled. “You don’t need much makeup anyway, Princessa.”

“Thank you, Tía. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

Diana waved her off. “You’d have been fine, Sweetheart. Send me a picture when you’re dressed.”

They said their goodbyes and Megan hurried to use the makeup products Diana had left her before sliding into the red dress and flats. She smoothed her hair and took a few pictures with her phone to send to her tía and Letty. As a last minute decision, she also sent one to Taza.

A moment later, her phone dinged with a text from her father. She checked it. “You look beautiful, Chica. Enjoy your night.”

Megan smiled and tucked her phone, wallet, and lipstick into a small black purse. She was ready.

Hank had just slipped into his dress boots and suit jacket when his phone chimed three times from the table. It was his personal cell, not the club burner, so he didn’t worry too much about the texts being anything that could mess up his night. He laughed as he realized they were texts from Taza, Bishop and Marcus. He opened Bishop’s first.

“Take your gun, brother. YOu might need it to keep the pendejos under control. She’s fucking beautiful.” Hank chuckled, but checked his ankle holster for his back up anyway.

The text from Marcus simply said “you better do this right,” and Hank couldn’t help but smile. As the only married Mayan currently in Santo Padre, Marcus was certainly a man with strong opinions on how his god daughter should be treated.

Taza’s text was a little different. “Be sure to tell her how beautiful she looks. Show her how a princessa should be treated. And lock the damn bedroom door!”

Hank laughed. He only replied to Taza’s message since he knew they were all together. “I’ll take good care of her. I promise. And yes - I’ll lock the door.” He slipped his phone into his jacket pocket before he settled it across his broad shoulders and reached for the flowers and box that EZ had dropped off for him.

He knocked on the bedroom door gently. “Mi reina? I take it from the text message I just got from Taza that you’re ready. Can I come in?”

“Come on in,” Megan called through the wooden door.

Hank opened the door carefully with his full hands and stepped into the bedroom.

Megan was standing in the middle of the room fiddling with her purse. She looked up and smiled as Hank came in.

His breath caught in his throat and his jaw dropped. He barely held onto his gifts. “Dios mío, eres tan hermosa, mi reina. How’d I get so lucky?”

Megan’s smile widened. “Usually when you slip into Spanish, I did good, so I’ll take that as a compliment.

Hank chuckled. “You’re beautiful, Megan. So God damned beautiful that my brain shuts down.” He stepped forward and offered her the flowers.

“Thank you! They’re beautiful. My first real flowers…” Megan bent to smell them with a giggle.

“There will be plenty more, mi amore. I promise.”

Megan sat the vase on her dresser and fussed with them a moment before turning back to him. “You look great too.”

He smiled and offered her his hand so he could pull her close. He gently kissed her knuckles and smiled. “I got you one more thing.” He offered her the small white cardboard box that was tied with a green ribbon.

Megan took it, stepping closer to him to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

“Open it.”

She pulled the lid off the box to find a delicate pearl bracelet to match the rest of her jewelry. “Oh Hank… It’s gorgeous.”

He took it from the box and showed her where the clasp had an H and an M entwined engraved on it before fastening it around her left wrist. He pressed a kiss to the skin of her inner wrist with a smile. “Ready for a real date?”

“With you? So ready,” Megan said with a smile.

Hank helped Megan into her armored leather jacket and helmet before putting his own on. EZ had also detailed Hank’s bike during Templo and dropped it off with the flowers and jewelry. It was parked out front.

Hank mounted his bike and helped Megan to settle behind him. He savored how close she was to him and felt her arms come around his waist tightly before he started the bike and headed for town.

Taglist

@jemmakates

@msjava1972

@drabbles-mc

@delightfulheroshoeflap

@iamthegraham

@oureternalbond

@camelia35

@anaeve

@tallrock35

@keyweegirlie

As always let me know if you want added or removed from the list

#lost princessa #mayans mc #meet the reaper #lost princessa sequel #taza x daughter!oc #megan(oc) x hank #che taza romero #hank loza #mayans mc fanfic #bishop losa #marcus alvarez #ez reyes

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alisbackalleybbq · 5 months

Text

Puppy Love - Chapter 7

After having some major computer issues, I was finally able to sit down and write today!!

@northern-neighbor @chickensarentcheap @oscars-wifeyyy

A/N: Buckle up, buttercups. This one is going to be wild.

New FCs for this chapter: Jo Trager is Katey Sagal and Denver Trager is Kim Coates (Gemma and Tig together in my own way)

TW: violence

The knock on the door startled Charlotte who had been curled up on the couch reading a book.

“I got it!” Nathan yelled from the kitchen and barreled into the living room, flinging open the front door.

“It’s probably just Jonah.” Charlotte muttered under her breath.

“Oh fuck,” Nathan whisper-shouted.

“Is that any way to speak to your mother?” Jo Trager snarked as she pushed her way past her son and entered the house.

“You don’t seem very excited to see us,” Denver Trager noted as he followed his wife.

“Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?” Charlotte asked, standing from the couch.

“Why the fuck did we have to hear that you got stabbed from Jeff?” Jo demanded, hugging her daughter.

Charlotte winced. “I was going to tell you.”

“Well, you didn’t. I had to hear from him that you almost died.” Jo released her daughter from the hug and hugged her son.

“It’s not that dramatic, Mom.” Charlotte huffed.

“It was that dramatic, though.” Nathan released his mom.

“He also said you were having delusions and you had him arrested.” Denver hugged his daughter gently, placing a kiss on her head.

“That wasn’t a delusion. That actually happened, too.” Nathan shrugged. His mom slapped him on the back of the head. “Wow, Mom! What the fuck?” He rubbed the sore spot.

“That’s for you not picking up the fucking phone and calling us yourself!” Jo snapped.

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I know you love Jeff and all but he tried to kill Charlotte so maybe don’t love him anymore’?” Nathan huffed.

“That would be a fucking start.” Jo growled.

“Nathan, why don’t you go make some coffee? Let’s sit down and I’ll explain everything.” Charlotte sighed.

“What are we doing here?” Jackson West asked his training officer as they pulled up to an unfamiliar house. There had been no calls that had come over the radio.

“Friend texted me,” Doug Stanton said. “His girlfriend hasn’t been answering her phone. He asked me to do a welfare check.” Doug put the shop in park and started to get out of the car. The address was familiar to Jackson but he didn’t know why. Doug stopped him at the walkway leading up the house. “You can wait here.”

Jackson nodded curtly and watched his T.O. walk up to the door and knock. He pulled his phone out so he could text Lucy about how it was bullshit that he was waiting on the sidewalk.

“Can I help you?” A man Jackson didn’t recognize answered the door.

“I’m looking for Charlotte Trager.” Doug answered. As soon as Jackson heard the name, he quickly scrolled through his contacts, and tapped Lucy’s name

“And who are you?” The man asked.

Doug scoffed and gestured to his uniform. “I think it’s pretty apparent who I am.”

“What do you want with my sister?”

“We got a call from a concerned friend that they hadn’t been able to reach Charlotte. They asked us to check on her to make sure she’s okay.” Doug smirked.

“Jackson,” Lucy answered smiling. “How’s it going?”

“I’m texting you my location. You need to get here now.” Jackson said quickly.

“Why? What’s going on?” Lucy immediately became concerned and shot Tim a look.

“Doug said his friend asked us to do a welfare check on his girlfriend.” Jackson explained.

“I’m putting you on speakerphone. Say that again.” Lucy held the phone out so Tim could hear as well.

“Doug told me that his friend texted him to do a welfare check on his girlfriend.” Jackson repeated.

“What’s so concerning about that?” Tim asked, confused.

“Because he’s doing a welfare check on Charlotte.” Jackson answered.

“If you don’t let me talk to Charlotte, I will arrest you for obstruction!” Doug shouted.

“What’s happening?” Lucy asked as Tim turned the shop’s lights and sirens on headed for Nathan’s house.

“The guy who answered the door won’t let Doug talk to Charlotte.” Jackson sighed.

“Jackson, try to calm him down. Don’t let him arrest anybody. We’re on our way.” Tim barked.

“Easier said than done.” Jackson said as he hung up the phone. “What seems to be the problem?” He asked walking up to the house.

“I told you to stay on the sidewalk!” Doug snarled.

“Maybe I can help.” Jackson shrugged. “Sir,” he turned his attention to the man standing in the doorway, “I’m Officer Jackson West. I’m a friend of Officer Chen’s. Would it be okay if I talked to Charlotte?”

“I’m not letting anybody in my house that says they’re here on her ex-boyfriend’s business.” The man replied.

“You have ten seconds to let me in so that I can talk to her or I am placing you under arrest.” Doug got into the man’s face.

“Mmm,” the man hummed. “I’m pretty sure the law says that I don’t have to let you into my house without a warrant.”

“Sir,” Jackson attempted again, “would you please let me in just to check on her? All I have to do is lay on her and make sure she’s okay.”

“You said you’re a friend of Lucy��s?” The guy asked.

“I am.” Jackson affirmed.

“You can come in. Your friend here has to stay outside.”

“You’re not going in there alone.” Doug glowered. “Officer safety.”

“Fine. Then neither of you are coming in and you can tell that rat bastard to take his fake welfare checks and shove them up his lily-white ass.”

“I am warning you,” Doug snarled.

“I’m fine.” Charlotte said, pushing past Nathan to stand on the porch in front of Doug. Jackson couldn’t help but notice the hatred burning in her eyes.

“Are you Charlotte Trager?” Doug asked.

“You know that I am.” She said through gritted teeth, crossing her arms over her chest. Jackson wondered what that meant.

“Can I see some ID?” Doug asked.

“No,” Charlotte shook her head. “You don’t need to see it.”

“Law says if an officer asks for ID, you have to supply it. Hand it over.” Doug responded.

“I don’t think I will.” Charlotte shrugged. “You’re here on a welfare check. I am telling you my welfare is fine. You can go.” Nathan noticed the tremble in Charlotte’s shoulders but chalked it up to her being nervous that Jeff was mentioned.

“I will arrest you.” Doug stated. “Give me your ID.”

“Arrest me. I don’t really give a fuck.” Charlotte challenged.

“You little bitch-” Doug started.

“Hey!” Nathan shouted.

“Whoa!” Jackson held his hand up to Doug. “There’s no need for that.”

Doug pulled his handcuffs out. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back. You’re under arrest.” Charlotte did as she was instructed. She winced as Doug locked the handcuffs into place. “I’ll take her to get booked in. You stay here and get statements.”

“That makes no sense,” Jackson replied. “How will I get back to the station?”

“I’ll come back for you,” Doug responded.

“What the fuck are you doing to my daughter?”

“Dad, I’m fine,” Charlotte answered.

“Sir, go back into the house before I arrest you, too.” Doug shouted.

“No,” Denver shoved Doug’s shoulder lightly. “Get your hands off my daughter.”

“That’s assault!” Doug screamed. “You just assaulted a police officer.”

“Oh come on! I only shoved you a little. That’s not assault.” Denver laughed.

“Shoving is assault.” Doug turned to Jackson. “Give me your cuffs.”

“I think we all need to settle down here.” Jackson held up his hands. “There’s no need to escalate this.”

“Fine, if you won’t do it, I will. Give me your cuffs and get her into the shop.” Doug shoved Charlotte at Jackson.

“You’re really going to arrest me for a slight shove?” Denver challenged.

“You bet your ass I am. You and your piece of trash daughter can go to jail together.”

“Well, in that case,” Denver shrugged before slamming his fist into Doug’s nose, knocking him to the ground.

“Dad!” Charlotte cried.

“Goddamnit, Denver!” Jo shouted from the porch.

Doug coughed as blood spilled from his nose. “That’s a felony.” He groaned.

Tim slammed on his brakes in front of Nathan’s house, trying to figure out what he was seeing.

“What the hell is going on?” Tim demanded.

Doug coughed some more before standing up. “They’re both under arrest.”

“What for?” Lucy asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Her for obstruction,” Doug nodded at Charlotte, “and him for felony assault on a police officer.”

“That’s what you get for calling my daughter a bitch and a piece of trash,” Denver spat.

“Jackson, get her out of those cuffs.” Tim glared at Doug.

“You can’t do that!” Doug got in Tim’s face.

“I just did.” Tim shrugged.

“What are you even doing here?” Doug asked.

“Dispatch couldn’t get an answer from either of you on your radios when they status checked you. They tried checking your body cam to see if you were okay but it just shows the inside of your car. They got the location of your shop and had us come check on you.” Tim answered.

“They didn’t status check us!” Doug scoffed.

“How would you know, Officer?” Tim challenged. “It looks like you don’t have your body cam or your radio on you. That’s a real concern.”

“Jackson, did you hear a status check?” Doug demanded.

“No, sir. Remember, I told you at the beginning of the shift that my radio was acting weird but you said we’d just use yours and it would be fine?” Jackson answered quickly.

“Whatever,” Doug spat, “cuff him. He’s still under arrest.”

“I dunno,” Nathan shrugged. “It looked like you tripped and fell to me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Doug whirled on him. “You saw him hit me.” Doug pointed at Denver.

“What did you see?” Tim asked Jackson.

“I wasn’t paying attention to him.” Jackson shrugged, knowing he was going to pay for saying that even if it was the truth but the satisfaction of seeing Doug Stanton laid out was worth it. “He passed Charlotte off to me. My back was turned so I could escort her to the shop.”

“You lying sack of shit.” Doug stomped up to him. “You know exactly what happened!”

“Looks like we have a problem here.” Tim crossed his arms over his chest. “You have been aggressive since we pulled up. Sounds to me like you’re trying to falsify charges because you have a vendetta against Charlotte and this man.”

“That’s asinine!” Doug screamed with rage.

“Ma’am,” Lucy locked eyes with Jo, “what did you see?”

Jo shook her head. “I was talking to my son about how we were going to have to bail these two out. I didn’t see anything.”

“It’s on body camera you stupid cu-” Doug started.

“Hey!” Tim yelled. “You don’t talk to witnesses like that. Jackson, pull up your body cam app on your phone and let’s review the footage.” Tim’s stomach sank and he shot an apologetic look at Charlotte who was rubbing her wrists after Lucy unhooked the cuffs.

“I can’t,” Jackson responded. “The app doesn’t work for me; hasn’t in about a month.”

“What have you done to get it fixed?” Tim asked Doug.

“He never told me it wasn’t working,” Doug glared at Tim.

“Sir, I emailed you about it four times. I have your responses, if you’d like to look at them.” Jackson answered.

“That won’t be necessary,” Doug huffed.

“Then we’re done here.” Tim declared. “Jackson, drive Doug to the hospital to get that nose checked out.”

“Yes, sir,” Jackson said.

“You okay?” Tim asked Charlotte once Jackson and Doug were gone. Tim could see that she looked terrified.

“No,” Charlotte shook her head. Tears started spilling down her cheeks. “It was him, Tim.”

“Him who?” Nathan asked.

“I recognized his voice,” Charlotte whispered, her teeth chattering as her whole body broke out into shivers. “He was the guy who stabbed me.”

Tim swallowed the lump in his throat. He wished he’d been the one to punch Doug. “I’m going to need you to identify who the voice belonged to so I can bring this to Internal Affairs.”

Charlotte nodded before looking directly into Tim’s body camera. “I recognized the voice of the man who stabbed me as the officer you referred to as Doug.”

#tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie

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theputterer · 4 months

Text

Good Things In 2023

It’s that time of year again! Time to remember all the good things that happened in 2023. I’ve done this since 2017, and highly recommend doing this as a fun way to reflect (and to have something for future reference when you are feeling Down.)

woof ok here we go

PERSONAL

I visited two countries I haven't been to before: the Netherlands and Iceland!

The Netherlands: mostly Amsterdam but did also pop down to The Hague for a day. Did the Van Gogh Museum, the Anne Frank House, the Rijksmuseum, the Bloemenmarkt, a canal boat tour, the Royal Palace, the Mauritshuis.

Iceland: I was there for less than 48 hours but I saw THE NORTHERN LIGHTS!!!! they were subtler than I expected but so cool. also did the Perlan Museum and a Lava Show, which ruled.

Related: I turned 30 this year!

My dear friend Sam came to visit me in Dublin in June! The highlight of her visit was going with her to see Hozier at Malahide Castle.

Speaking of which, Hozier dropped UNREAL UNEARTH which isn't personal, per se, but is very personal to me

My sister visited me in November! We squeezed a lot in her time here, but highlights were Glendalough, the Hill of Tara, and the Galway Christmas Market.

A few aunts went on a trip to Ireland this fall and I joined them for a bit up in Donegal, as well as a day trip to Derry, which I'd not been to before.

Completely fucking forgot about this but I did write a 158k word long ROGUE ONE / FRINGE AU, ENDLESS FORMS MOST BEAUTIFUL. it was a real fuckin bitch to finish, let me tell you that

I got really into MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE over the summer (don't ask) and wrote a couple short pieces inspired by the most recent movie, DEAD RECKONING - PART ONE: LADY LAZARUS and WORTHY THE NAME OF SIR KNIGHT.

I jumped back on my bullshit in October and wrote a long, extended epilogue to my BINARY STAR SYSTEMS trilogy: TWO DESERTS. the way the series ended was always correct and good but it was fun to write this extended epilogue focusing on the fallout, the question of what it's like to live past the end of your myth.

Anything bolded below is something I particularly enjoyed and recommend.

MOVIES

2023 movies I saw and liked:

M3GAN

KNOCK AT THE CABIN

BONO AND THE EDGE, A SORT OF HOMECOMING WITH DAVID LETTERMAN

DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS: HONOR AMONG THIEVES

RENFIELD

THREE MUSKETEERS: D'ARTAGNAN

JOHN MULANEY: BABY J

SISU

THE LITTLE MERMAID

SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER VERSE

ASTEROID CITY

INDIANA JONES AND THE DIAL OF DESTINY

MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE: DEAD RECKONING - PART ONE

BARBIE

OPPENHEIMER

PAST LIVES

ELEMENTAL

A HAUNTING IN VENICE

CHEVALIER

KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON

BOTTOMS

THE ROYAL HOTEL

DREAM SCENARIO

ANATOMY OF A FALL

THE HUNGER GAMES: THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES

EILEEN

NAPOLEON

GODZILLA MINUS ONE

FERRARI

2022 movies I saw and liked:

TAR

THE LOST CITY

WOMEN TALKING

THE LAST OF US

PEAKY BLINDERS

BOOKS

super embarrassing how few books I read this year:

"Survival of the Richest: Escape Fantasies of the Tech Billionaires" by Douglas Rushkoff

"Donegal Folk Tales" by Joe Brennan

"Listen to the Land Speak: A Journey into the Wisdom of What Lies Beneath Us" by Manchan Magan

"Hell Bent" by Leigh Bardugo

"The Book of M" by Peng Shepherd

"The World We Make" by NK Jemisin

"The Echo Wife" by Sarah Gailey

"Daisy Jones and the Six" by Taylor Jenkins Reid

"White Cat, Black Dog: Stories" by Kelly Link

"Yellowface" by RF Kuang

"Ithaca" by Claire North

"Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI" by David Grann

"A Heart That Works" by Rob Delaney

"Rebecca" by Daphne du Maurier

"The Crying Book" by Heather Christie

"In the Dream House" by Carmen Maria Machado

"Rogues: True Stories of Grifters, Killers, Rebels, and Crooks" by Patrick Radden Keefe

"Fleabag" by Phoebe Waller-Bridge

"The Hurricane Wars" by Thea Guanzon

OTHER GOOD THINGS

*some of these things are Good as in well-written or well-made, but maybe not Good in topic.

"Eurydice" by Adrienne Su

"What Happens to a School Shooter's Sister?" by Jennifer Gonnerman for The New Yorker. A high school student murders his parents and several students at his school, and his sister is left to pick up the pieces. really powerful story on unconditional love.

"A Friend Died, Her Novel Unfinished. Could I Realize Her Vision?" by Leslie Jamison for The New Yorker. the grief of losing not only a dear friend but her art as well.

"Fuck you, I don't know?"

Werner Herzog pronounces Eeyore.

George Washington's Dream for America, an SNL sketch.

Judi Dench performs Shakespeare.

"Walking Brittany Home" by Devin Faraci for Washington Post. a really beautiful piece on death and love.

This thread on the struggle of trying to be fashionable in Ireland.

"The Return of the Marriage Plot: Why everyone is so eager for men and women to get hitched" by Rebecca Traister for The Cut.

"We Were Never Supposed to See Our Own Faces This Much" by Lola Christina Alao for Dazed Digital. on social media and personal reflection.

sunwoof

this story about Jimmy Buffett I loved

"She Wasn't Able to Get an Abortion. Now She's A Mom. Soon She'll Start Seventh Grade" by Charlotte Alter for Time. the cruelty is the point.

had a pilot named Ken yesterday and he introduced himself by saying his job is plane

"Cillian Murphy might be the star of a massive movie atm but to me he will always be the guy that showed up in the rain to our abortion rights marches"

"The 'Troubling Reverberations' at the End of OPPENHEIMER, Explained" by Bilge Ebiri for Vulture. it's an absolutely devastating ending, but the fact remains: there was no other way to end it.

this obituary for the great Sinéad O'Connor.

Kiké Hernandez returned to the Dodgers!

this behind the scenes video from the filming of MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE: DEAD RECKONING - PART ONE where Tom Cruise's co-stars watch him drive a motorcycle off a cliff.

"How Christopher Nolan Learned to Stop Worrying and Love AI" by Maria Streshinsky for Wired. good interview with Nolan, one of my favorite filmmakers / artists. (anyone who's ever read anything I've written is probably like yes, this is very obvious.)

"The Perils and Promises of Penis-Enlargement Surgery" by Ava Kofman for The New Yorker. an absolutely BONKERS but super important piece!

a new ending to RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, lmao

"The Return of Ryan Gosling" by Zach Baron for GQ. really great profile writing going on here!

"LOST Illusions: The Untold Story of the Hit Show's Poisonous Culture" by Maureen Ryan for Vanity Fair. LOST is one of my favorite shows and has been super influential on my work. (again, this is probably very obvious). this piece is devastating in how it reveals the terrible racism and sexism behind the scenes of a show I have loved. important.

Henry Kissinger died this year (GOOD THINGS BABYYY) and this piece by Nick Turse, which came out in May, is a good explainer on why that's such good news: "Kissinger's Killing Fields".

"Talking With 'Swiftie Dads' at a Taylor Swift Concert" by Eileen Cartter for GQ. I thought this was very sweet.

The New York Times had an interactive feature about Connie Chung and her impact on young Chinese-American women, particularly the ones named after her. I love this video of her meeting some of them.

"Will A.I. Become the New McKinsey?" by Ted Chiang for The New Yorker. Chiang is best known as the writer of STORY OF YOUR LIFE which was adapted into ARRIVAL, so it's wise to listen to him when it comes to tech and science.

Loved this speech Mark Hamill gave about Carrie Fisher at her Hollywood Walk of Fame induction ceremony.

Accents white people can still do.

this absolutely incredible slapstick esque unintentional comedy scene.

As always, tagging anyone who’d like to do this!

@magalis @callioope @earnestfeeling @illuminahsti @fortysevenswrites @vaderkat @leaiorganas @garethsedwards @rifle-yes @buffyrat @alittlemomentum @i-am-slain @rogue-rook

#personal #about me #good things

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prettykikimora · 2 months

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Ahh fufk I forget how lucky I am in Detroit there's a house or techno whatever show every fucking weekend everywhere and I'm in Northern Minnesota I see "dj in gay nightclub" I think oh shit they playing some jams nonits top 40s pop bullshit I'm not getting on the floor to this shit with all the hetero girls and their boyfriends this suckqs but there's like 4 tgirls I'm with so that's neat I guess? Fuciing duluth being me back to Detroit raves I wanna get fucked up to some fast beats and just lose myself ghats my idea of a good time the grimy underground shit.

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fipindustries · 11 months

Text

the house that hype built

so, i finished the house of leaves

it started really intriguing, really mysterious, really promising. a fully experimental new text based experience. incredibly unnerving, incredibly uncomfortable. very potent and cool.

i was shitting my pants when i started this book. because it was full of mystery and intrigue and threat.

i was fucking snoring by the time i ended it because it was filled with hot air and anticlimaxes.

it gets really dull, truant becomes the worst type of ginsbergiang, stream of conciousness, look at me mom i am serious writer, college grade peddler of inane bullshit ive ever come across. no real characters, certainly no real female characters, anywhere to be seen. truant himself the most generic gen X loser archetype who slowly goes insane, of the sort we've seen more than enough.

the navidson record proper is more interesting and enjoyable to get through, even if in the end it just ends up being your run of the mill found footage horror movie. with what was frankly a surprisingly schmaltzy hollywood tier happy ending.

maybe i just read this book too late. by now having seen homestuck, and the northern caves and the erogamer and the dirties and everything everywhere all at once and a bunch of other stuff that completly redefined my understanding of narrative formats this one comes across as just one more of the bunch, and everything else i just mentioned has the decency of actually telling a good story so. maybe had i read it back in the early 2000's, at a time where the matrix could still be a mindblowing concept, i would have been a lot more impressed by it.

at first the minotaur was promising as this greater than life foreboding entity stalking through the book, then for a moment i got worried that it was just going to be some big ooga booga monster, like, oh no a man with the head of a bull, truly im losing my sanity as i speak. then it seemed like it was going to be just some macho dude who went AWOL, and then by the end it was fucking nothing, something about the darkness itself being the monster or whatever.

as i said it in another post i thought the weird experiments with format were going to be not just visually cool but intrinsic to the plot, necessary and fully justified by the logic of the story itself, why did zampano, or truant or whoever chose deliveratly to format their book like that? what forces forced them to break away with convension so brutally.

again, it was fucking nothing, just because it looks creppy and cool and weird and wacky. its jeremy bearimy all over again.*

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

*jeremy bearimy is a reference to a gag in the show "The good place" (2016) which shows up in episode 4 of season 3.

#see i can do it too #the house of leaves

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brydeswhale · 1 year

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The whole idea that I don’t know what I’m talking about when I complain about a lack of a visible artistic culture in the North is so laughable.

I mean, no way I could have

Any idea

What being stuck inside for months at a time

Could result in.

And my family is not alone in this bizarre output. Everyone I know who doesn’t fall prey to SAD or the like has some kind of creative hobby they fall back on in winter. Even if it’s just keeping the entire province in mittens.

Like, I only have to put up with five or six months of white bullshit. I shudder to think of how many tapestries Sansa should have by the end of winter.

(Btw, those hobby horses? My eleven year old sister made them, so please stop pretending Arya can’t learn a few simple stitches.)

Every single northern culture I know of, as soon as we get our hands on any kind of colourful object, starts trying to figure out how to wear it or put it on/in our houses for the pretty.

So I’m left with either GRRM knows shit fucking all about how culture works when you’re in a cold darkness interspersed by crystalline beauty for months at a time, or Ned is a miserly bastard who can’t be called upon to support the arts.

#asoiaf #asoiaf worldbuilding problema

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hellsbellschime · 2 years

Note

The North plot framed to look like the only person who could get Northerns to fight for the Starks was Davos, a Southerner was laughably ridiculous. I don't doubt that some North houses will fight for the Boltons in the books as well but the idea that Sansa and Jon would have so few of their vassals fight is laughable. I know people loved her but Lyanna Mormont annoyed the crap out of me, it was cringey. They were clearly lost as to what to do because they bungled S5 with the Sansa/Ramsey plot.

pt 2 - My theory is that it will be S & J winning back WF but Sansa will not be in a low position politically as book LF (who is a f*cking creep), would never have her marry a Bolton as it serves literally no purpose for him. Sansa will likely come North with the Vale at her back. The fact that the North was won back with an army of mostly wildings prior to the Vale showing up in the show is so laughably idiotic I can’t believe it was written. That would be something that would shame the North.

That would be something that should shame the North for years to come and the way George has set up Northern loyalty in the books, that ain’t happening. These men who literally threw themselves and furniture on top of Robb to stop the arrows from getting to him at the RW are now being sassy and denying their loyalty to his kin seeking aid? And them acting like the Reeds, Manderlys & Mountain clans wouldn’t be three of the MAIN houses fighting for House Stark is beyond comprehension. I'll stop.

Yeah that was 100% some Grade-A bullshit, like there are Northerners in the books who are planning on crowning a literal feral baby just because he's a Stark, the notion that nearly every House in the North would turn down Sansa AND Jon is bananas.

#got for ts

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jvstheworld · 9 months

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The Buffy re-watch: S1E6 (part 2)

The Pack

Giles looks kind of ashamed of himself when Buffy is right about something, after he's dismissed her concerns.

The Masai tribe (not to be confused the the real Maasai tribe In Kenya and northern Tanzania) was mentioned by the sketchy zookeeper at the beginning of the episode, like that wasn't a hint for the audience later. (Sarcasm).

Very graphic and disturbing images of unchecked animal possession. Well, shit.

Xander learning from Angel in how to be a creepy stalker.

With Flutie being the principal of Sunnydale High, he would have seen some shit right? It doesn't seems like he knows about the supernatural threats that plague the town, but Snyder does. Either way, he didn't deserve his fate.

And the creepy just get worse. Xander goes into SA mode. I hate SA/R in TV shows and films, I find it hard to sit though and watch. While this scene is mild, compared to a certain scene in season 6, I still hate watching it. But I will get on to the other problem I have with this later.

What happened to the other possessed students after this episode? They ate a pig and a human being while they were alive. They couldn't have just carried on as normal, and no amount of therapy could help them.

Hyena Xander trying to trick Willow into letting him out makes the point that their lives didn't need much saving before Buffy arrived. We later find out this to be bullshit in the season 3 episode 'The Wish'.

Bad time to try and make friends Giles, especially with sus zookeepers.

Possessed people terrorising random families. Those low house prices better be worth it.

To knock someone out, you need to hit their head, right? Not their back. So how did the zookeeper knock Giles out with a blow to the back and a slump to the floor?

When was the zookeeper planning to do the possession? And I would be pissed too if a bunch of high school bullies beat me to the punch.

We can totally see the stunt double for Buffy in a couple of shots, sometimes it's so noticeable.

And the day and people are saved, except the zookeeper who does have a name, it's Weirick. I had to look it up because I don't remember it being said once.

We get our first reference to Snyder, who won't appear until 'Puppet Show'.

Okay, to the complaint I have regarding Xander. If he genuinely forgot what happened to him while possessed, I could understand not wanting to tell him about the SA. It was the animal spirit in control, not him. However, he does remember and is only feigning amnesia. This is what I have a problem with. If he said he remembered and apologised, he would have been forgiven, because again he was not in control. Buffy and Willow would have understood, forgiven him and moved on. But he chose to pretend to forget so he doesn't suffer any potential consequences. He took the coward way out of the situation. I get that he might feel ashamed, he tried to SA his friend/unrequited love interest and belittled and bullied his best friend, that is something to feel ashamed about, but instead of be a decent human being about it, he just pretends to forget so he can have a get out of jail free card. That pisses me off. If he owned up to what happened and apologised, Buffy and Willow would have just blamed it on the animal spirit and left it at that. He would have been fine. Because they probably would never want to talk about it again either. It was cowardly and stupid and I lost respect for Xander for that.

And Giles protects Xander, likely because he feels sorry for him and is trying to be helpful. But my original point still stands.

Okay, episode and rant over. If you can't tell by now, I'm not a fan of Xander. I didn't mind him when I was young, but now that I'm older he irks me. He has his good moments, like when he is actually being funny, but other times he angers me.

Tomorrow, we delve into the beginnings of Bangel.

#buffy the vampire slayer #buffy summers #rupert giles #willow rosenberg #xander harris #buffy rewatch #tv show thoughts

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the-lady-general · 1 year

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i don't want to go back to the party they're going to talk about boring bullshit again and when you look up the song lyrics the first comment will be asking if the song is indexed and the second comment will be asking "what was so bad about about the wehrmacht anyway" i don't want to i don't want to they'll all have opinions about winnetou despite never having touched a book for decades and dad's actually in quite an amicable mood which means he's been negging me all night but by grabthar's hammer if i hear the tyroler march one more time and they'll dig out the racist schnitzel discourse again. i just want to talk about looney tunes. pentiment. star trek. that 500 year old northern italian joke that went "you've fucked my wife, my daughter and my maid, sir, and as the master of this house I feel as though you're snubbing me"

#the lady general rambles #old ppl birthday parties eh #i miss when there was a kids table

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themockingpoint · 2 years

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Hope

Sansa had been the Queen in the North for years now. But she wasn’t happy. Between the War of the Five Kings and the Long Night there were so many fires that Sansa was being forced to put out that it has been literal years and she is still putting them out.

Sansa was alone and would probably be the last of the Stark bloodline. She could never marry again. Not after Ramsay, and Joffrey and… Theon… She would never be able to trust someone like that. She would never fully be able to give herself to another.

“My la… Your Grace.” Halis Mollen said, knowing her since she was a little girl the transition between Lady and Queen was not the easiest for the Captain of the Guard.

“Yes, Hallis?”

“There is a woman here that needs to speak to you. She said it is extremely important.”

“Did she say what it was about?” Sansa asked, curiously. Not many women would demand to speak with a queen and Halis knew Arya so that ruled her out

“No but she said it was important.” Halis said and his nose wrinkled slightly. “I think she is a wildling.”

Despite how much they did side by side, the Northerners still were… wary of the Free Folk and that was a more generous interpretation of the word.

But if it were a wildling there is a chance that it could be a message from Jon! Sansa picked up her skirts and rushed to her solar only to find… not Jon. There was a blonde woman that Sansa had never seen before who was singing, but was interrupted by Sansa slamming the door open.

“J- oh. Hello.” Sansa said, quickly able to smother her disappointment. Something that did not exactly go unnoticed.

“You don’t have to pretend. I know I’m not Snow.” The blonde snarked. “I am Val.”

“Hello Val.” Sansa said, her bluntness reminding Sansa of Arya. “Welcome to Winterfell.”

“I… gonna cut through any bullshit.” Val said, “Snow… He…”

Sansa's world went blurry and she stumbled only being caught by Val stopped her from hitting the ground. The woman, seemingly a warrior, easily maneuvered her to one of her chairs.

Jon was her last real connection to her family. Now he is gone. All of her family was gone. Bran… well that was not Bran anymore, he has made that perfectly clear. Arya has not been heard from since she set sail and Jon… Jon has gone north of the wall yet to be heard from since he was sentenced there. She always planned on bringing him back once she was fully established in the North, but now she’d never get that chance.

“H- How?” Sansa croaked.

“Those… Unfettered?” Val said. “They were still pissed and were looking for him. They weren’t treating those who they thought were harboring him with kid gloves. They found us and he decided to hold them off so we could escape.”

“Tormund?” Sansa asked. She doubted the rowdy man would leave Jon to his fate nor could not be here if that were the case.

“He went with them.”

Sansa now knew that she was the last of her house. It was a lonely feeling. She wondered if this was how her father felt after the Rebellion. She was drawn for her wallowing as a chirping noise came from beside her desk.

“Is that…”

“Yes.” Val said, walking over and picking up a bundle of blankets. Sansa’s eyes widened looking at the little girl.

“C- Can I hold her?” Sansa asked, and Val handed her over.

“I know Snow would have wanted her to grow up here.” Val said, leaning on Sansa’s desk. “And if it is not as I have anything left up there.”

Sansa ignored her though, staring down at the little girl in her arms. She had her mother’s blonde hair and Sansa’s father’s eye. Her brother’s eyes. She… Sansa had family.

“What’s her name?”

“Hope.” Val said.

“Hello. Welcome to Winterfell.” Sansa said, smiling while bouncing her new ward in her arms. “Hope Stark.”

#sansa stark #sansamonth2022 #asoiaf #queen in the north #sansaappreciationfest2022 #a song of ice and fire #val the wildling princess #Jon Snow #sansa month post

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femmeraegeresource · 1 year

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Lyric Starters from Stick Season by Noah Kahan

Northern Attitude

How you been?

Settled down?

You feelin' right?

Feelin' proud?

How are your kids?

Where are they now?

Where are you?

What does it mean?

If I get too close and I'm not how you hoped, forgive my northern attitude

Oh, I was raised out in the cold

Oh, I was raised on little light

[I/You] bought some shit

[I’m/You’re] gettin' lost

[I’m/You’re] gettin' high

[I’m/You’re] all alone, late in life

[I’m/You’re] scared to live

[I’m/You’re] scared to die

You settle down

[I’m/You’re] gettin' stoned, then kickin' rocks

Stick Season

You promised me that I was more than all the miles combined

You must've had yourself a change of heart like halfway through the drive

Kept on drivin' straight and left our future to the right

Now I am stuck between my anger and the blame that I can't face

Memories are somethin' even smoking weed does not replace

I am terrified of weather 'cause I see you when it rains

It's the season of the sticks

She forgot that I existed

It's half my fault

I just like to play the victim

I'll drink alcohol 'til my friends come home for Christmas

I'll dream each night of some version of you that I might not have, but I did not lose

That'll have to do

I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad, that I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from Dad

I am no longer funny 'cause I miss the way you laugh

You once called me "forever," now you still can't call me back

My other half was you

I hope this pain's just passin' through, but I doubt it

All My Love

‘How have things been?’ Well, love, now that you mention it

My folks still talk but they speak in these two-word sentences

[I’m/You’re] sayin' too much

[I/You] know how it gets out here

No winter coat could keep out all the cold of your atmosphere

Now I know your name but not who you are

There ain't a drop of bad blood

You got all my love while I'm still out here

Writе me a list of how it is, of how it was, of how it has to be

You burrowed in under my skin

What I'd give to have you out of me

I still recall how the leather in your car feels

At the end of it all I just hope that your scars heal

I looked so confident, babe, I swear, I was scared to death

I smiled stupid the whole way home

You said, "I'll never you let go"

She Calls Me Back

There was Heaven in your eyes

Everything's alright when she calls me back

Look at me and don't you lie

I could be your sacrifice

Don't you hold your head up high

For bullshit, I do not have time

I do not exist to die, but live to die while saving you

Does it bite at your edges?

Do you lie awake restless?

Why am I so obsessive?

This town’s the same as you left it

Your page was blank, but I read it

The radio is taunting me

I don't get much sleep most nights

I'm seeing you in every dream

If only I could wake you up

If only I could fall asleep

I'll love you when the ocean's dry

I'll love you when the rivers freeze

I was too afraid of living life in your footsteps

Still she calls me back

Come Over

I'm in the business of losin' your interest

I turn a profit each time that we speak

My house was designed to kinda look like its cryin', the eyes are the windows, the garage is the mouth

You won't have to guess who thеy speakin' about

Come over, come over

I'm in the process of clearin' out cobwebs

Feels good to be sad

My mouth was designed for my foot to fit in it

I promise you, darlin', with the view in the morning, you won't ever go back

I know that it ain't much

I know that it ain't cool

You don't have to tell the other kids at school

My dad'll strike it rich

We'll be the big house on the block

Someday I'm gonna be somebody people want

New Perspective

Silence is making me nostalgic

We were kids, but that don't make this less hard

If I could fly I doubt I'd even do it

I'd probably get high and crash or something stupid

You made this place feel just like Central Park

Paper bags drift wherever the wind blows and mine's full of receipts

This town’s for the record now

The intersection got a Target and they're calling it downtown

You and all of your new perspective, wish I could shut it in a closet and drag you back down

Gave me your word and now I can't pronounce it

No thing so sure that I can't learn to doubt it

Now the state bird, it sings our song so out of key

Everything, Everywhere

It's been a long year

Would we survive in a horror movie?

We trust everyone we meet

I wanna love you 'til we're food for the worms to eat

I wanna love you 'til our fingers decompose

Drive slowly

I know every route in this county

Maybe that ain't such a bad thing

Orange Juice

Honey, come over

The party's gone slower

No one will tempt you

We know you got sober

There's orange juice in the kitchen

It's yours if you want it

We're just glad you could visit

I've been ready for you to come home for so long

I didn't think to ask you where you'd gone

Why'd you go?

You said my heart has changed

My soul has changed

Now my face has changed

See the graves as you pass through

Not one nick on your finger

You just asked mе to hold you

It made you a stranger and filled you with angеr

Now I'm third in the line up to your Lord and your Savior

My life had changed, this town had changed and you had not

Don't you find it strange that you just went ahead and carried on?

The last time I drank I was face down, passed out there in your lawn

Are we all just crows to you now?

Are we all just pullin' you down?

You didn't put those bones in the ground

Strawberry Wine

Darling, speak to me but don't you say a word

Light a cigarette, I'll watch it as it burns

Remember telling me that you thought you were cursed?

I'm in love with every song you've ever heard

If I could lose you, I would

We buried your bones in plywood

Love is fast asleep on a dirt road with your head on my shoulder

Those things I miss but know are never coming back for you, darling

No thing definеs a man like love that makes him soft

If I was empty space and you were a formless shape, we'd fit

Love leaves little runway and every time we run straight over it

Growing Sideways

I took my medication and I poured my trauma out on some sad-eyed middle aged man's overpriced new leather couch

I said "I'm cured"

I divvied up my anger into thirty separate parts

Keep the bad shit in my liver, and the rest around my heart

I'm still angry at my parents, for what their parents did to them

It's a start

I ignore things, and I move sideways 'til I forget what I felt in the first place

At the end of the day I know there are worse ways to stay alive

Everyone's growing and everyone's healthy

I'm terrified that I might never have met me

If my engine works perfect on empty I guess I'll drive

So I forgot my medication

Now I'm suffering in style

Why is pain so damn impatient?

And if all my life was wasted I don't mind, I'll watch it go

It's better to die numb than feel it all

Halloween

I'm sailin' away to a place I'm afraid of

The dawn isn't here, the sun hasn't rose

I'm drinkin' my days with the coastal longshoreman

They got money to make and children back home

The last that I heard, you were down in New Orleans

I drink 'til I drown and I smoke 'til I'm burnin'

Your hands are all over my scent

I worry for you

You worry for me

It's fine if we know we won't change

Collect every dream in these old empty pockets in hope that I'll need them some day

The wreckage of you, I no longer reside in

The bridges have long since been burnt

I'm leavin' this town and I'm changin' my address

I know that you'll come if you want

It's not Halloween, but the ghost you're dressed up as sure knows how to haunt

I know that you fear that I'm wicked and weary

I know that you fearin' the end

I only tell the truth when I'm sure that I'm lyin'

I'm settin' sail once again

Homesick

Two months since you got back

How have you been and are you bored yet?

The weather ain't been bad if you're into masochistic bullshit

Every photograph that's taken here is from the summer

This place is such great motivation for anyone tryna move the fuck away

Well, I'm tired of dirt roads named after high school friends' grandfathers

Timе moves so damn slow I swear I feel my organs failing

I stopped caring 'bout a month ago sincе then it's been smooth sailing

I would leave if only I could find a reason

I got dreams, but I can't make myself believe them

Spend the rest of my life with what could have been

I will die in the house that I grew up in

I'm homesick

Still

I don't want to say goodbye

It only falls into place when you're falling to pieces

You find love that lasts a while 'til you lose the reasons

You miss something that you can't place but you can't deny it

Don't know whether you want a place in the coast or the country

You can't stay here

It's hard to face and it feels too ugly

You light a fire inside yourself, let it burn

It's like I'm still here with you

And I used to watch my mother move like God was in the room

Grab a past box of photos, I rip myself open

I'm wondering if I'm callous but hoping, can I fix what is broken?

The View Between Villages

I'm splitting the road down the middle

For a minute the world seemed so simple

Feel the rush of my blood

I'm seventeen again

I am not scared of death

I've got dreams again

It's just me and the curve of the valley

There is meaning on Earth

I am happy

A minute from home, but I feel so far from it

It's all washin' over me, I'm angry again

The things that I lost here, the people I knew

They got me surrounded for a mile or two

The cars in reverse, I'm grippin' the wheel

I'm back between villages and everything's still

#rp prompts #ask prompt #ask meme #rp meme #rp starters #writing prompts #prompt meme

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