#I ordered it as an appetizer just to check it out but damn it was so good I had to order it again

[happyheidi]

Scotland photodump pt 1

[freesia-writes]

C-can I pick Howzer for #1, mmmaybe? 👉👈

ANY EXCUSE TO WRITE FOR HOWZER, my love! :D This follower celebration was SO FUN because the variety of prompts and people I have waiting to be written about are just... *chef's kiss*. This one was super fun. It was one of those times where the writing just kind of falls into place as you go along! Hope it's a fun one. <3

#1 - You hear [clone] tell the waitress that they are nervous for their blind date, but no one shows up. So you sit down to act like the date.

Howzer x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.5k Content Warnings: Kissin and drinkin ;)

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He caught your eye the moment he walked in. He was immediately recognizable as a clone, but he just had a little extra *somethin* that immediately had your attention. Whether it was the tousled undercut he sported or the curving scars across his cheek and chin, you were thoroughly enjoying the view from your perch at the far end of the bar counter. It was always fun to see clones free of their armor, enjoying their scarce free time.

You’d had to stay late after your shift at the restaurant, covering a baby shower that stretched for hours through the day and into the afternoon, and now the dinner rush was already starting. You were free to leave, of course, but an extra dirty martini and some of the mistaken food orders were too good to pass up. Plus, the bartender was your best friend, so when she had a break between customers, there was always good conversation to be had. 

“Did you see that test tube specimen walk in just now? Right up your alley…” she asked, waggling her eyebrows at you while she shook a steel canister. 

“It’s not ALL clones, Dee…” you said in mock defensiveness. Okay, so you had a type. And there happened to be millions of them. But they weren’t all the same… not that it was worth getting into it with her again. “But yeah,” you admitted, peering over your shoulder again, watching him sit and gently take the menu from his server, “He’s got a sweet vibe.”

“You’ve watched him for fifteen seconds and you already think you can tell his vibe?” Dee challenged, pouring the drink. Without waiting for an answer, she bustled off to deliver it, leaving you to wait for his server to come back to the station next to your seat. As soon as he approached, you were speaking. 

“So what’s the deal with table 44 over there?” you asked, earning an immediate snarky grin from Barnes, who was quite the tall drink of water himself, but he’d made it quickly known that he wasn’t interested in women. 

“Ohh, you noticed, huh?” Barnes laughed, tapping on the register screen to enter a drink order, which you leaned over to peer at, curious what he might like. “Yeah, he’s a treat. All cute and nervous, too. He’s on a blind date.”

“Ahh, damn,” you said, leaning back to your food. “Well let’s see who he got set up with.”

* * * 

You lost track of time, nursing your martini and accepting an extra appetizer that had been ordered and then changed. Dee had been regaling you with a tale from the last party she’d been to, although it was delivered in bits and pieces as she went about her job. It wasn’t until Barnes gave you a tap on the shoulder that you remembered to look for the clone’s hot date. Surprisingly, however, the chair opposite him was still empty, and he was leaning his chin into one hand, elbow on the table, the other hand idly twirling the straw in his drink. He looked so smart in his dark grey uniform, and you noted the way it fit snugly around his chest and arms, tucked neatly in to a belt around his narrow waist.

“Get this,” Barnes said conspiratorially as he tapped on the register again, “He just asked for the check, for just his drink. I think he got stood up. Should I quit and go join him?” he paused, as though he were genuinely asking you, then chuckled. “Ehh, I’m not into the military type. Also, it’s getting busier -- you should get out of here before you get wrangled into serving some tables.”

“Good point,” you said, not really thinking about what he said because you were so surprised and distracted at the fact that Mr. Handsome over there had been stood up. What kind of idiot… Suddenly, an idea popped into your head, as the rest of Barnes’ words finally processed, and you decided to act on it before your rational brain (and cowardly second-guessing) kicked in. “Wait, Barnes, don’t give him the check…” you said, putting a hand on his arm as the receipt printed in front of him. “I’m gonna do it.”

His genuine laugh of delight was infectious, and further fueled your slightly bubbly mood. “Well you’d better come up with a good excuse for making him wait so long… And make it worth his time,” he said, giving you a suggestive wink that earned him a smack on the shoulder. You stuffed your apron into the cabinet below the server stand and rushed to the refresher to see what could be done. The smell of a full day’s work in a restaurant was heavy on your clothes and hair, and the barely-remaining makeup was sparse. Grateful for the little basket of hygiene items kept under the sink, you pulled your hair down, tousling it with your fingers after spraying some refreshing powder through it. You got some paper towels wet and wiped your armpits, laughing at the thought of the clone seeing you now. There was nothing to be done about your outfit -- black button-up shirt and black pants -- but at least you could untuck the shirt now and roll up the sleeves. You made one last stop by the bar, making two rushed requests of Dee. 

“Hey -- real quick -- I need that gold necklace from the lost and found drawer, and can you make a dirty martini and another of whatever he had?” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, shaking her head fondly as she fetched the necklace that had been left a few weeks ago. “I mean, what the heck. Sounds like fun, and probably nicer for him than going home sad.” Armed with two drinks and as much courage as you could muster, you headed for the table, running through all the possibilities in your mind. 

“Hi! Blind date, right?” you asked, wanting to be careful not to lie. His brown eyes lifted to you, expression unreadable. He’d been patiently waiting, but was he the stiff sort who would be indignant at being made to wait? Or was he a pushover so desperate for attention that he’d put up with anything? It remained to be seen.

“Yeah,” he said in that smooth clone voice you’d heard so many times. “Howzer,” he said, standing to greet you. He awkwardly offered a hand, realizing you had a drink in each of yours, and gave a breathy chuckle of relief as you quickly set the glasses on the table and took his hand, giving it a gentle shake. You froze, unsure of whether to use your name, or if he knew the name of the person he was expecting… 

“And you’re Xena, right? Here, please, sit?” he continued, standing behind your chair and smiling in such a kind way that the guilt settled heavily on your shoulders. He’d been made to wait an awfully long time, and yet here he was, offering a kind and graceful introduction…And it was also way too much work to try to figure out how to continue the deception as further details would be questioned.

“Erm, no…” you admitted, once he’d cordially seated you and taken his place across the table. His furrowed brow and crooked smile made your heart skip a beat, and you blundered on, “I’m sorry… I work here, well, not right now, but I was hanging out, and I heard you were waiting for someone, and I saw it had been a long time, and I was… well, yeah, I was totally creeping on you from over there… And I just didn’t want you left here hanging cause you’re just… Well you seem really nice… And honestly, you’re really cute… Ohhhh man. This is not a good start,” you laughed nervously, burying your face in your hands. What HAD you been thinking?

Howzer put two and two together and leaned back, running a hand over his tousled hair. You grimaced, hoping it wouldn’t all fall to pieces, and gently pushed the drink toward him once you were willing to show your face again, despite its bright red color. “Here… I brought the same thing you ordered, and… you can just enjoy it, if you want… Sorry, I don’t know what I was aiming for here,” you fumbled, starting to rise to your feet.

“No, wait -- it’s alright,” he offered, raising a hand to accompany his words. “I guess Pivot didn’t paint me in the best light to whoever I was supposed to meet here,” he chuckled dryly. “But it was kind of you to take pity on me… I think? Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving, so what do you say to some dinner?”

Relief cascaded down at the invitation, and your shoulders dropped a few inches with the release of tension. You smiled, letting out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, and nodded. 

“You said you work here?” he continued, opening the menu as if he hadn’t spent the last thirty minutes reading it about eight times over. “What’s the good stuff? Oh, and I suppose I should ask your name too.”

You filled him in, on both points, and had just began sharing about how you got this job when Barnes interrupted you by sliding right up to the table with an air that absolutely demanded attention. “Welllll hellooo again. I see your date showed up?” he said, mock innocence painted all over his face. Howzer gave you a smirk with a raised eyebrow, and you blushed bright red again, chuckling anxiously once again. 

“I told him, Barnes,” you said, holding your hands up in surrender. “I’m not cut out for this sort of thing.”

“And yet you’re still here,” Barnes pointed out, pursing his lips at you before sending Howzer a rather flirty glance. “I mean, I don’t blame you. But you’re not skimping on my tip if you’re gonna make me serve you,” he said, turning back to you. His charisma lightened the mood even further, and you assured him that he would not be slighted in any way. After some discussion about the dishes and a few suggestions, both you and Howzer had the food ordered and were left to stare at each other once again. You were trying to figure out what kind of date this was meant to be, what type he may be looking for (or what type he was himself). But instead of trying to make yourself into something you weren’t, you decided to just be authentic and see where it went. You didn’t really have much to lose, anyway. 

“So. Howzer,” you said, “How’d you get the name?” 

He leaned forward again, stirring his drink again and appearing to be much more relaxed, and began sharing stories from his life so far. It was decidedly different than yours, especially with the fact that he aged twice as fast. You tried not to think about the actual number of years he’d been alive, as that would make you a total pervert by regular human age standards. He told tales of his brothers, their personalities and quirks, and the adventures that his military life had taken him on so far. He shared his thoughts about the world, musing about ideas for the future -- if or when things ever changed. The minutes melted away, punctuated only by Barnes appearing occasionally to refill drinks, bring plates, or clear them away. 

You’d always had a soft spot for the clones, but you loved seeing them open up. The unique complexity of each individual was always a delight, and Howzer seemed to have more depth than most. He was simultaneously ambitious yet reserved, steady yet bold. You were finding yourself more and more enthralled, and in a bit of disbelief at your luck. Somehow you’d chatted away the entire dinner rush, and the restaurant was now growing quiet, filled with only a few lingering guests.

The conversation took a bit of a flirty turn, and you found yourself reaching across the table in a fit of laughter, clapping your hand on top of his. He smiled, still chuckling, and turned his hand over to gently take yours, sending another spark through your body. His gaze darkened a little, taking on a suggestive edge that suddenly made you ready to take him home right then and there. His thumb traced softly across your knuckles, and his eyes dropped to your hands on the table. 

“Well, things didn’t turn out so badly tonight after all, did they…” Howzer mused. His smooth voice and the thrill of the last couple of hours of conversation and connection had you feeling as though you were living a dream. You smiled, giving his hand a little squeeze, and shook your head. 

“Want to get out of here?” you asked, perhaps with more of a seductive tone than you’d intended.

“Oh, ahh, sure… But… well, I mean…” he stuttered, sheepish and hesitant all of a sudden, and you wondered if you’d crossed a line somehow. 

“I just meant for a walk, or glow pops, or something to change the scene,” you offered brightly, and though he tried to hide it, he looked visibly relieved. 

“Sure -- yes -- sorry,” he continued, running a hand through his hair again. “Look, this has been super fun, and I’m so glad you took the initiative to sit down. I’m just… I’m not much of a one-night-stand kind of guy. I know it’s lame, or whatever, but… I guess I just take a while to warm up that way… The guys make fun of me for it all the time.” You felt your heart swell in your chest at his vulnerability. You definitely hadn’t been expecting that, and somehow it made you crave him even more. Respectfully, of course. 

“Don’t apologize!” you insisted, leaning forward and picking your hand up from his to place it on his bicep, emphasizing your words with a smile. “I’ve really enjoyed this. And would like to continue to enjoy it.” 

“I mean, I’m not a total prude,” he said, laughing self-consciously, still with that glint in his eyes that hit you right in the soul. 

“I don’t know,” you said playfully, being careful to keep it lighthearted, “We’ll have to see about that.” You bit your lip, hoping it wasn’t too much of a jab, but he smirked, primly setting his napkin on the table and rising to his feet, extending a hand to you.

“Well let’s start with a walk.”

After fighting over the bill for a few minutes, since you “weren’t the one he asked on a date” but he “had indeed taken you on a date” but “it was where you worked” but “it still needed to be paid” but “you wanted to be fair”… You let him pay with the insistence that you’d be getting the next one, which gave you a little thrill at the thought that there would be a next one. The coat closet was in the middle of a long, narrow hallway that branched away from the host stand at the main entrance, and the hallway included a few other doors that led to the refreshers as well as the kitchen. Howzer leaned in, scanning the hangers for his coat, and suddenly you heard a loud voice as the restaurant door slammed closed behind someone.

“Hello! I need to be seated immediately. Oh, it’s been a ROTTEN evening. The stupid taxi driver got lost twice, and the train was held up by some idiot old lady, and now I’m incredibly late to meet someone here!” a sharp female voice announced, catching the attention of everyone within hearing range. The realization hit you like a gallon of ice water dumped over your head, and as Howzer leaned out of the closet door to peer at the disturbance, you moved without thinking, pushing him back into the coat closet with so much force that both of you lost your balance and tumbled in, kept on your feet (barely) only by the row of jackets hanging up along the back wall. 

Howzer’s arms went out to the sides, hitting the wall with an ungainly thump, and you fell into him, landing against his chest in the most fortuitous way, hands splayed across his shoulders to try to break your fall. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, and heard him chuckle quietly once the initial surprise had passed. 

“I wasn’t aware I had this effect on women,” he said in a low voice, and you held a finger to your lips with urgency, tilting your head toward the loud voice still ringing outside. 

“What do you MEAN, he left?!” she said shrilly, and you could hear Barnes smoothing things over. “You can’t hold a table longer than two hours? That’s just ridiculous.” You sent up a silent prayer of thanks for his quick thinking and willingness to cover for you. You slowly pushed yourself to your feet, freeing Howzer from beneath you, though you were quite loath to do so, and watched him slowly stand straight as well. His eyebrows raised at what he was hearing, and he looked down at you in amusement.

“I may have dodged a bullet tonight,” he whispered, and you stifled a giggle. 

“Fine, well at least tell me where the refresher is, and I’ll be on my way!” the woman demanded, and the quick click-clack of her heels coming down the hall sent you both into a panic again. There was nowhere to hide except behind all the coats, and you both immediately dove into the row of fabrics, pushing them out in front of you and flattening yourselves against the wall, side by side. Now you were trying really hard not to laugh, at the utter ridiculousness of this turn of events, and you clapped a hand over your mouth to avoid making a sound. 

“You know she doesn’t even know what I look like, right? We’ve never met,” Howzer breathed in your ear, and you gave him a little push. 

“There weren’t any other clones in the restaurant tonight, were there?” you whispered right back, and he tilted his head in concession. 

“Good point.”

The sound of the refresher door closing was a welcome one, and you pushed the line of jackets in front of you apart, taking a deep breath of the fresh air that was a nice change from the stuffiness of your hiding place. You were getting ready to head out when you felt Howzer pull your arm, and you turned back toward him questioningly.

“We don’t want to risk it. Better wait til she leaves,” he said, shrugging as though he had no choice in the matter. But the soft croon of his voice and that little shimmer of a reflection of the dim closet light in his eye took away absolutely any reason you may have to argue, and you leaned back into him, facing him now, as he rested against the wall. Jackets were stuffed all around you, draped over your back and undoubtedly sticking out a bit, but his breath caught in his throat as you drew near and the sound made you forget about everything else. 

“I don’t want to push you past your comfort zone,” you said softly, feeling the tingles growing as he ran his hands up the outsides of your arms, and you brought your hands up to rest on his broad chest. 

“I appreciate that,” he breathed, leaning in a little closer, “But I told you I wasn’t a complete prude.” He was so close now that you could smell him, an intoxicating mix of aftershave, soap, traces of scents from dinner, and the slightest hint of musk underneath it all. His proximity was electrifying, and you lifted your face to take in the fondness in his eyes and the gentleness in his expression. You were hopelessly lost at this point. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered, and your cheeks curved into a smile at his gentlemanly request. 

“Yes please,” you whispered back, and as soon as the last syllable had left your lips, his mouth was against them, arms wrapping you in a firm yet tender embrace. As if the closet weren’t stuffy enough, the sudden heat of the moment, combined with the two of you pressed together, had you completely flushed with warmth. His kiss was unfathomably sweet, and when he pulled away with a soft smack of the lips, he rested his forehead against yours with a small smile on his face. You lifted a hand to his scarred cheek, reveling in the moment. 

The silence was broken by the refresher door opening again, and an aggressive tapping of heels echoed down the hallway as the narrowly-avoided blind date from hell clattered out the front door. You pulled back a little to better meet Howzer’s eyes, though you could have stayed there forever. 

“Now how about that walk?”

[shapelytimber]

It's *definitely* not a date

[COMMISSIONS] - [PRINT] (Promo code UJABTZ still available until 11/19)

I love these two glhohkgkgjgk the silly 60s spies are cute ok ;; (and there is something about an american man and a russian man romancing each other during the cold war-)

Process (+ a long ass rant about what they are eating (with pics)) below vvv

For this one I wanted to challenge myself by drawing something that's really challenging for me : food ! It's really hard for me to make it look appetizing- I don't really like eating, and I don't usually bother to cook (why cook when I could just grab a baguette, a piece of cheese that could kill an american on sight, and combine the two to create easely one of the top 5 dish france has to offer ?), so I really struggle with making it look good lgkglflfofi but I'm very happy with how it turned out !!!

Welcome to my long ass rent on a very specific type of french food :

So the plan for this was always to have them eat at a french restaurant, but I could not resist doing something really personal and extremely specific to my hometown- so they are eating in Nice ! And Nissart cuisine is very different from the rest of France. Why ? Quick history (I swear this has something to do with food), Nice was a very late addition to France, only becoming french in 1860, before that point it was part of the kingdom of Sardinia (so not Italian, but pretty close). It mostly translate to it having it's own dead language "Niçois" (a derivation of "Provençal", the old french language of the south), it's own anthem "Nissa la bella" and a very distinct cuisine.

So what are they eating ? First, you'll notice they have a little plate of Pissaladière ! It's flatbread with caramelized onions, anchovy (this is a crucial part of the dish, if you exclude them your just eating onion pie (/neg)), and black olive (btw I checked the english wikipedia page for pissaladière- it's so shit omg nooo)

It's commonly free in restaurants, and served while you wait for your order (not all restaurants do that, but it's always so nice when they do fkfjkf). It's a pain in the ass to make, and all the ones you buy in boulangeries or stores are dogshit-

Ok for the actual dishes (It was hard to find something that would go well with red wine kgkgfjlfk because that means no fish-) ! Napoleon is eating roasted rabbit a la Niçoise ! The rabbit is flavored with olive oil, onions, garlic, lard and white wine (quick note, nearly everything we cook in Nice is in olive oil, not a big fan of butter). It's served with cooked tomatoes, rosemary, potatoes and black olive.

And Illya is eating two distinct things, 1) zucchini flower fritters ('beignets de fleurs de courgette' in french) ! More specifically, the flatter version (it taste more like the flower. The more crispy version tastes more like just oil (in my opinion)).

And 2) stuffed vegetable a la niçoise ('farcis niçois' in french) ! Just empty a tomato/zucchini/eggplant/bell pepper, stuff it with a mixture of meat, garlic, thyme, parsley and parmesan, then put bread crumbs on top.

PS : just wanted to share a quote from my evil advisor (@quijicroix) : "I'm glad the waiter brought their F cups" (this is my best attempt to translate : "damn le serveur de genre indéterminé qui ramene les miches !")

[tigertales9]

Appetizer

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: This is a mini, porny nugget inspired by minicamp.

Time/Place: 6/14/23 - Cincinnati, Ohio

Edit: Now that I've sobered up a bit, I want to say this porny nugget was inspired by pics @lonelywiththestars posted. The one above plus the one of him holding that bottle. 🥵 Check 'em out...

Arm porn

Bottle porn

Follow-up is here : Main Course

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You hand Joe the last dinner dish, watching as he quickly rinses it and places it in the dishwasher. "Is that it?" he asks, looking around. "Yeah," you answer, smiling as he shuts the dishwasher and follows you into the living room.

"What do you wanna watch?" you ask. "Maybe 'The Planets'?" he answers. "It's Jupiter tonight. I know we've already seen it, but it's super cool."

"Sounds good." You ease onto the oversized leather sofa as Joe turns the TV on and enters the channel number. "It doesn't come on for like 15 minutes," he says. "Good," you laugh softly, spreading your thighs and patting the black leather sofa between your legs. "Gives me time to work that shoulder issue out."

"How do you know I have a shoulder issue?" he asks, giving you a pouty face before grinning.

"Because you kept dipping the damn thing up and down during dinner. It's clearly bothering you. Let me help," you coax, patting the expanse of leather sofa between your spread thighs again. "Come here."

He drops onto the sofa between your legs, groaning low in his throat when you grind your thumb just under his right shoulder blade. "Oh fuck," he hisses, leaning into the pressure as you add a couple more fingers. "Jesus, that feels good," he whispers, dropping his head down as you continue to massage his throwing shoulder.

"Take your shirt off," you order, holding your breath for a few seconds as he whips his shirt off, the muscles in his back and arms rippling before settling down. You dig your fingers into his muscular back, biting your lip as the noises escaping his lips cause your core to contract. Simmer down, you think to yourself, he needs a good massage more than he needs sex.

"Fuck, that feels good, baby," he groans, leaning into the pressure as you continue to massage him.

Several minutes later he leans all the way back against you, looking up at you with those kaleidoscope eyes. "Feels so good," he whispers, his long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he grinds his hips against the sofa in a way that you can totally understand.

You drop a kiss on his fragrant neck as you slowly run your hands over his chiseled arms and his hard nipples, eventually sliding one hand down his torso, his abs clenching under your touch as you dip just inside the waistband of his slinky shorts, your thumb massaging the precum in lazy circles on his velvety head.

"Lose these shorts," you order, smiling when he quickly shoves his shorts and undies to mid-thigh. You wrap your hand around his erection, pumping slowly while he groans his approval. "You like that?" you whisper, spitting on your hand before grasping his hard cock again, pumping him slowly as he grinds his hips up into each thrust. "Yeah," he groans, "don't stop." You tease his nipples with your free hand as you continue to pleasure him, his big hand enveloping yours as you finish him off, the noises he makes when he cums hitting every pleasure point in your body.

He eventually grabs his shirt and cleans himself off, pulling his shorts and undies up while standing up and smiling down at you as you catch your breath.

"Nice appetizer, babe," he purrs.

"Appetizer?"

"Yeah, we'll head upstairs for the main course." He gives you a wink before easily picking you up; you wrap your legs around his waist, sinking your teeth into his muscular shoulder as he heads for the stairs.

[octuscle]

Hello Chronivac! Love your work! I’ve been hitting the gym pretty hard, and made good progress. But there is just so much growing I need to do! I’m especially envious of this huge, hulking black bodybuilder from Ghana who works out there, the dude must be 250 pounds at the peak of his bulk! What I wouldn’t give to be that race and be that size.

So, answer the question! What would you give for that? First of all, you would give your mother tongue. You are having dinner with friends. You understand English quite well. But you speak it only brokenly. Your friends look at you in horror as you try to explain to the waiter what you want to eat. You do not understand. Your native language is Twi. Of course you learned English at school. But your heart never beat in English.

Then I suppose you would give your job for the body. You are now working at the street cleaning service. As you place your order, you glance again at the prices on the menu. Damn it! In your lifetime, you can only afford a mineral water here. One of your friends looks at you, recognizes your concern and says it's okay. You are invited.

With your job, of course, you have to give up your lifestyle. Your expensive suit becomes a cheap pair of jeans and a jacket made of faux leather. Underneath you wear a washed-out T-shirt. You are proud of your sneakers. Real Adidas. Not fake. You found them cheap at the flea market. You check your old, scratched-up cell phone for public transport times. Somehow you have to get back from Soho to your social settlement later. The last bus leaves in an hour and a half. Okay, then you can even order an appetizer. Before you go to bed, you'll have a protein shake anyway.

Unfortunately, you also have to give up your social environment. Everything revolves around you. The chic Italian restaurant turns into a café with bright neon lights. Coffee cups on the table. And a full ashtray. Many of the immigrants from Ghana, with whom you meet here to talk or play dominoes, smoke. It's not yours. Your body is your temple.

And you also have to cut down on your free time. You can't get your body from drinking coffee and playing dominoes. And with only one job you can't afford the masses of protein you need. That's why you say goodbye. Your gym closes in an hour. That's enough for one more training session. And after that you'll clean the showers and toilets.

So, now you have given up enough. With every step you take towards the gym, your skin gets darker, your steps get heavier. Your body is reaping the rewards of everything you've given up. You are a poorly trained street cleaner. But by far the hottest one imaginable. I hope that was worth it to you.

Found you pic @lookuptoblack

[crow2222]

Darry getting frostbite and the gang mildly freaking out bc every time they try to warm Darry up he just recoils in pain because it burns?

Okay I just wanna say that this has been in my drafts for a long while now,,,, I just really didn't know how to write this or even finish it off 😭

Set in Pony's pov, word count: 1,565.

"I thought we lost you like we did mom and dad." His voice rung around in my head, an endless echo that was a reflection of my worry. His whisper bouncing off non existent walls of my mind.

An arm snuck around my shoulder, snapping me out of my thoughts. "He's probably just late because of the icy, Pony. They're annoying to drive on. " I look up to see Sodapop, joining my watch out the front window for Darry.

There was a random freak snow storm, a blizzard I guess. School ended early and I drove home with Steve and Twobit, on the way home we also picked up Soda from the DX.

Darry, however, was still nowhere to be seen even when it hit three o clock and the snow is furiously knocking against the closed window. We were home for around two hours now, there's no way he's still at the site with this weather.

"Yeah chill out kid, he's superman after all. If his truck got stuck he'd just fly back home!" Twobit cackled at his own unfunny joke, but it only brought me more worrisome thoughts. "He could be stuck..?" I let my forehead hit the freezing window as I longed for my eldest brother. He couldn't be stuck.. he couldn't be hurt.. could he?

Sodapop must've had it with me being upset because he turned me right around on the couch and put a cup of hot chocolate in my hands. It didn't seem that appetizing though, it was made with water instead of milk, expired chocolate mix and stale marshmallows from Halloween.

But since I didn't want to worry Soda anymore, I took the mug to my lips and started slowly sipping away at it. The gang must've accepted this as a sign I stopped dwelling on Darry so they went back to watching Christmas movies on the television that was barely working.

How could they even make out the voices and faces in the horrible static? Because I sure as hell can't!

My mind was still wrapped around what was going on with Darry until the front door slammed open with the wind, immediately bringing the cold air and snow flew freely into the house.

"Oh my god, Darry!" Sodapop yelled, quickly grabbing him into the house fully since he seemed frozen to the door frame and he then hastily shut the door.

Despite the blanket of snow sticking to him, I noticed what he had on. He had a light coat, with an even thinner hood on his head. His working boots were probably the only things that kept him slightly warm out in that dumb snow.

"H-hey guys.." His teeth chattered as he slowly took off his wet slush covered coat and hung it up. Now that I got up and got a closer look at him, he looked horrible.

His face was feverish, as white as a sheet and flushed heavily, and his lips were cracked. His hands were a unnaturally dark colour which I only saw when he took off his work gloves, which told me that they didn't do shit when it came to keeping his hands warm.

"Twobit check if there's hot water in the shower, Steve get blankets, and Ponyboy give him your hot chocolate!" Sodapop hollered orders at us as he helped Darry get his boots off since he couldn't do it by himself. His mutters were quiet but I swear something about not feeling his toes. I was really getting nervous now, seeing Darry so incapable is.. foreign. To say the least.

"So you mind telling me why the hell you were outside in the cold?" Sodapop growled at our oldest brother as he sat him down on the couch. I sat down beside Darry, interested to hear his story as well. I shrunk away a bit when I touched his cold shoulder though, not willing to lose anymore of my own heat left.

He made a show of sighing dramatically for us, but was stopped by a dry cough. I guess that's what he gets for being out in the cold for so damn long.

"The damn truck broke down, alright?" He sucked in a breath of air as he started rubbing his arms. "I didn't feel like staying in it an' freezing to death so I walked home. Happy?" He didn't bother with eye contact to us, instead he kept his eyes fixated on the floor.

He must've felt bad for snapping back like that because I started to hear something that sounded like an apology, "Guys I.."

Steve came back and threw blankets onto Darry before he got a chance to even establish his sentence. "I just took these off your bed." He then got himself comfy on the ground, he probably didn't notice how bad off Darry really was.

Sodapop's knee bopped up and down in thought, before he shot up from the armchair and ran off to the hallway. Steve raised his brow at his best friend's departure, before glancing to face us at the couch. "What's with him? Darry what-? Woah." Steve blinked, turning himself around unnaturally to take a better look at Darry.

"Holy fuck!" He covered his mouth after he realised he let the cuss slip. "Is that frostbite?" Before Darry and I got a word in, Steve quickly got up and followed Soda, leaving me alone with the freezing and confused Darry.

"Pony.." I looked up at my brother hopefully, I fully expected him to say he was fine and complain about finding his truck once the snow thaws but instead I was met with, "Can you make me coffee?" His weak smile was enough to convince me, and I couldn't help but wonder what exactly Soda and Steve both went off for.

I stood in the kitchen, brewing the coffee in a way where I could still watch Darry. He was clenching his fists over and over, I had a sneaking suspicion that he was trying to regain feeling in his fingers.

I grabbed his favourite mug for the coffee, but before I could pour it in, Sodapop grabbed Darry by the arm and they went down the hallway. Darry was stumbling behind his pull, his feet must've been frozen or something!

I waited around to hear something, but all that came was hushed whispering and quiet movement. I decided I was tired of being left out like this so I went down the hallway, realizing they were all in Darry's room.

I pressed my ear at the door, hearing water slosh around? Then a command to put his feet in somewhere..

"You want me to fucking boil Soda!?"

Darry hissed loudly, making me flinch a little. "Darry, shit.. it's lukewarm." Soda must've checked the water himself, the silence from all sides was deafening.

Darry blinked, before shaking his head. "No.. no. Just." I heard more shuffling going on, "It's just not.. please let me warm up like this?"

"I think that's what we were meant to do in the first place." Two-bit murmured, and then I heard them all head to the door I was basically leaning on.

I quickly sprinted back to the kitchen, almost slipping in the process, and poured the slightly warmed down coffee in the mug that was waiting for me.

Twobit and Steve both sat down at the couch, whilst Sodapop came into the kitchen to see what I was doing, if I were to guess.

"Is Darry going to be okay?" I knew he didn't know the answer, but I had to ask anyways. He looked at the mug for a second, as if he was hesitating to answer. "Course he will Pone." He gently roughed up my hair before going back to the guys.

I walked past them all to hand Darry his coffee, but I could tell none of them were actually watching the TV at this point. We were all too confused about the pushiness of Darry, but I do have to say that he's always pushed us away whenever he was sick or something. So it's not all that out of the ordinary.

His door was left open, so I just let myself in. His blanket was very loosely on his waist, and he was shivering like crazy. Just the sight of him made a shiver run down my spine, from the cold or worry? I wouldn't be able to tell you.

"Here's ya coffee.." I handed him the mug, which he gratefully took. He didn't even try with the effort of giving me a smile anymore.

He had the coffee up to his face, like he was about to tip it over and drink, but he didn't.

I bounced up once or twice on my feet before getting the courage to ask him, "Are you going to drink it?" He blinked, as if now realizing I was in the damn room. "Yeah, just letting it cool down first." His voice was weirdly husky, but I paid it no mind and nodded.

I stayed there for the rest of the night, managing to put on multiple socks on his feet and covering him with as many blankets as I could. Eventually he warmed up enough that he wasn't like a corpse to touch, then he fell asleep.

Yup, he's gonna wake up in a pool of sweat tomorrow.

[clericofshadows]

in an effort to try and get out of my slump, I wrote up something different. a post-war fic in which while waiting for Kaidan, Regis and Zaeed run into Rahna. this is an idea I've had in mind for a while, since Regis was at BAaT with Kaidan, but not exactly the one Kaidan was solely interested in (yet).

KA: Sorry loves, I’m going to be a bit late.  Meeting is running over with no end in sight!  

Regis checked his omnitool to see Kaidan’s message flashing at the top.  That explains why Kaidan hadn’t met them at Apollo’s, despite his usual promptness.

Regis glanced up at Zaeed, who also had his omnitool out.

“Sounds like we’re on our own for a while,” Zaeed said.  “That school keeps him so goddamn busy.”

Regis typed out a reply.  “Price he pays for not being on the station in person all the damn time.”

RS: Want us to go ahead and order?  We can wait for you. KA: Nah, don’t worry about it.  Don’t let me prevent you from eating.  Can’t have a grumpy Zee on our hands. ZM: I can see that. KA: I know :).  I’ve done enough chatting.  I can always ask you to get me something to-go.  It’s fine. ZM: No, it’s not.  We’ll order as many goddamn appetizers as it takes to wait for you. KA: <3.

Regis took that as a sign he was done talking for now.  Zaeed reached over and grabbed Regis’s hand, lacing their fingers together on the table.  

The waiter came back by, asking if they were ready for anything.  Regis went ahead and ordered them some fried shrimp smothered with spicy peppers, and Zaeed opted for a platter of egg rolls and another beer. 

“Anything else, gentleman?” The waiter asked. “Usually, I don't see just the two of you here.”

“We're waiting on our third.  He might be a while,” Regis replied, setting down the menu. “We’ll wait and order our usual when he gets here.”

“Of course. Just let me know.  I’ll go ahead and get those appetizers out for you.” The waiter left with a nod.

Zaeed finished off his first pint. “50 credits say this whole meeting could've been an email.”

“You say that every time.”

“So, are you taking the bet or not?”

“You’re no fun.”

Regis took a sip of his lemonade.  “No.”

Regis only smiled in response.  “You won’t be saying that later tonight.”

Zaeed rolled his eyes.  “Indulge me.  I know he loves his program, but how many times a month do we hear him bitching about the content of the meetings?”

“Price he pays for not being there in person,” Regis said again with a pointed look.  “Soon enough we’ll all be back on Arcturus, and I imagine then he’ll have no issues.  For now, this is the best thing they can do.”

“I can think of a few reasons.” Regis started counting on his fingers to make a point.  “Galactic war and all the shit I had to deal with, post-Arrival summits before Wren and Hackett got smart and used the resources I got for us, hmm… post-war summits and all that shit… Can I keep going or have I made myself clear?”

“When did you get to be so diplomatic?” Zaeed snorted.

“Crystal.  I guess you’re right.  We really can’t complain.”

“Not unless you want to do long distance.”

“Rather not.”

They pulled a face.  “Depends.  I know you typically like a quiet evening and all… but there is a woman over on the balcony inquiring about you.”

The waiter came back with their appetizers, setting them down on the table with three small plates. A nice touch.  They hesitated for a moment.

“Something wrong?” Regis asked.

On the off chance it was something interesting… “Did she give a name?” Regis asked.

They were right.  Neither of them were particularly fond of the attention that lands on them at all times, although the luster had died down since the end of the war.  Still, there were fans who wanted to meet the great Admiral Shepard, and Regis always turned them down.

He is not some prize to look at.

“She did.  Rahna Akar.”

A blast from the past.  Interesting.  And Kaidan isn’t here to witness it.

[lonelypond]

New Year's By The Fire

NicoMaki, Love Live, 2.6K, 1/?

Summary: Nico is invited to the Nishikino New Year's Eve party. Snacks happen.

New Year's Eve By The Fire

Nishikino Maki wasn’t nervous. She’d been trained in the ins and outs and emergencies of hosting since she was old enough to curtsy, smile and point people toward a bathroom. And so many of the guests were familiar faces from two decades of parties, mixed with newer friends like Umi Sonoda and Kotori Minami. Tonight, Yazawa Nico would be added to that list. But Maki wasn’t nervous, her mask had just settled on her nose wrong, hair caught up in fabric knot at the back.

Nico had returned her tuxedo jacket, but Maki didn’t need it. Her Nordstrom’s shopper had messaged about the new Louis Vuitton x Yayoi Kusama arrivals and Maki had rushed to put together an outfit, mixing the Psychedelic Flowers suit with the Painted Dots shirt, the Infinity dots tie and gray beanie, and very kicky black loafers with metallic dots all along the sides. A domino mask to finish off the outfit and Maki was ready for a heist film. The outfit had received compliments from all the early party goers, but as 9 o’clock and Nico’s promised arrival neared, Maki did a quick check. Everything still snapped. Good. Nico seemed to care a lot about fashion. Checking her hat brim roll up in the hall mirror, Maki grinned. And with perfect timing, her phone pinged.

Nico: About to make an entrance. Don’t miss it.

Maki walked up to the door as Nico entered, cropped leather bomber jacket over a pink crinoline skater dress, black tights, pink lace up combat boots, pink knitted hat with a bobble bouncing merrily.

“Maki!” Nico waved, dodging around the crowd clustered at the door. “Wow. Kotori said you were going with the Yayoi Kusama, but damn that looks so much better on you than on the screen. Spin for Nico.”

“You forgot your mask.”

Nico sighed, shaking her head, reaching in to her pocket for a sparkly pink and silver mask, “Nico wanted to make sure you recognized her.”

“Can I take your coat?” Host instincts kicking in.

“Nah, Nico still hasn’t warmed up.” Nico looked around, “You could point Nico to food or something. Do rich people eat at parties?”

“Of course.”

“Nico’s only ever seen you eat pizza and donuts and this doesn’t look like a pizza and donut crowd.”

Maki chuckled, “You’d be surprised.”

“So Nico gets appetizer sized pizzas and donut holes.”

“It would be bruschetta and struffoli, but my parents went with a fish theme.” Maki stopped, to glance down at Nico, “You do like fish? Or I could order that pizza.”

“On New Year’s Eve? Nico doesn’t want to make any enemies in the restaurant business. Caviar it is.”

Maki saw Nico shiver and with a quick hand steered her to the chef’s station, grabbing a plate and filling it with salmon skewers and salmon blini before handing it to Nico.

“Nico approves.” Idly chewing her way up the salmon skewer, Nico drifted through the party, nodding at everyone who glanced her way like she was hosting, not Maki, who just followed in her wake.

“Maki! Nico!” Umi’s voice rang across the room. She and Kotori were talking together near the main Christmas tree, still twinkling with its white and gold lighting and decorating scheme. Both had chosen black dresses, flared at the waist, Umi’s with a hint of blue at the waist and hem; Kotori’s with gold thread striping the bodice. Their masks were black and feathery.

Kotori stepped forward, her hand sliding up Maki’s forearm, “How lovely. Just enough silk.”

Umi’s hand quickly offered itself as an alternative to Maki’s arm. Kotori linked their fingers. “Your tailor did an excellent job. The shoulders are perfect.”

Maki shrugged.

Nico held out a salmon skewer. “I think your chef did better. Try this. The spicing is sublime. Nico wants the recipe.”

Maki leaned forward. She’d been pacing and talking and making sure to complete everything on the list her parents had given her. She didn’t remember what time she’d eaten that morning.

Watching as Maki swallowed eagerly, Nico decided to go back for a second run, “You need food more than Nico does. Be right back.”

“Where’s Honoka?” Maki asked.

“Navy Pier.” Umi chuckled, “Honoka believes New Year's Eve is for making new friends at the largest party you can find while you watch something drop and many things explode colorfully and everything happens at the loudest volume possible.”

Kotori tched, “She likes to wear jeans.”

“Seems like the waste of a chance to dress up.”

“Jeans aren’t bad.” Umi fidgeted with her skirt self consciously.

“Oh no, Umi-dah, on New Year’s, you’re mine.” Kotori wrapped her arm around Umi’s, “You look too delicious not to wrap up in something dashing.”

Maki started to look for Nico, wanting to avoid a blush like the one coloring Umi’s cheeks.

“Maki!” Her mother was suddenly at her side, maskless, “Introduce me to your friends. Are they music majors?”

“Mama, this is Umi Sonoda. We are both in the Film Society.”

Kotori slid forward, her hand almost touching the fabric at Mrs. Nishikino’s hip, “I’m Kotori Minami and that Tadashi Shoji lapel dress is extraordinary.”

Nico had wandered back, carrying a plate piled with dumplings and wonton packets.

“Nico.” Kotori pulled Nico in, “Wouldn’t Eli look so good in something like that, in the confrontation scene, against the city lights?”

Nico tilted her head, considering, handing off the plate to Maki, who watched awkwardly as Nico and Kotori checked out her mother.

“Below the knee instead of floor length and white.” Nico decided.

“No, an even longer train. So it sweeps.” Kotori gestured with her hand. Umi and Maki exchanged a glance, Nico hummed noncommittally, then noticed Maki wasn’t eating and tapped under the plate.

“Nico got that for you. Try the crab rangoons. Another spicing masterpiece.”

Maki’s mother chuckled, “I’m glad you approve of the catering, I’m Maki’s mother.” She extended a hand, which Nico shook.

“Yazawa Nico, theatre major and future EGOT winner. I’m working with your daughter on a indie short.” Nico glanced around, “Thank you for inviting me to this party. Your home is lovely.”

“This movie keeps bringing new friends into Maki’s circle,” Maki’s mama leaned in to her taller daughter, “I’m glad. She’s a bit of a recluse.”

“MAMA!”

“Don’t forget to kiss someone at midnight.” Maki’s mama quickly pecked a kiss to her daughter’s cheek, “I am very glad all of you could attend. If you need anything, I’m sure Maki will take care of you. See you around.”

###

Music. A quintet. Slow music to dance to, jazz, sprightly classical and in this phase of the party, nearing midnight, some interesting arrangements of songs you wouldn’t think could be done by a piano, strings, and a trumpet, but there it was, Taylor Swift’s “Snow On The Beach” capping off a half hour of unexpected pop covers. Umi was holding out her hand for Kotori to join her in the crowd of dancing guests. Nico was singing along, sotto voce, leaning against a bar, wanting a karaoke room so she could do her best performance and let out some of the energy she’d been building up, meeting people, telling them about her upcoming part in Goncharov and the time she was spending developing musical skits for this year’s Waa-Mu show. Nico wasn’t sure where Maki had gone to until she saw her stand up from behind the piano, red hair flying loose, as another woman took over the bench. Nico leaned over, grabbed a bottled sparkling water, lime twisted, and headed toward the pianist, who was on a trajectory out of the room.

“That was an amazing “Snow On The Beach.” Did you do the arrangements?” Nico fell in step next to Maki, wondering where the taller woman was headed to. “I grabbed you a water.”

“Thanks.” Maki twisted off the cap and drank down half as they exited the room, walking down a hall Nico hadn’t been in before. They passed several doors until Maki reached to open one, holding it for Nico. A small room, sectional couch in front of a fireplace, stereo and speakers on the side, with albums underneath, and a mini fridge next to that.

Maki finished the water, dropped it in a box, crouched to pick a couple of albums, stacked them on the record player, and shrugged out of her jacket, rolling up her sleeves. Then she untied her mask. Nico was still in the bomber, but at some point she'd shoved her mask and hat in her pockets. Her dress was sleeveless and the party temperature had been keeping on the chilly side, but in this smaller room, Nico was starting to feel warm.

“Sit.” Maki pointed. “Want a water, juice, might have beer in here.”

“Water’s fine.”

Maki handed Nico a sparkling water, lime twist, and stretched out on the chaise portion of one leg of the sectional.

“You talking about Taylor Swift and noir the other day made me curious so I listened to her albums. Couldn’t get “Snow On The Beach” out of my head. The start is so…ethereal, like if snowflakes were these delicate windchimes.” The stereo started to play that very part. “I skipped.”

“That’s fine.” Nico glanced at the turntable, “Are you a vinyl nerd?”

Maki shrugged, “It’s more aesthetics. I like the weight. And the full sized cover art. It’s a…” Maki considered, “a ritual, sliding the album out of the sleeve, holding it gently, placing it carefully, dropping the needle, hearing the notes lift off the grooves. Music should always be a ritual.”

“Nico gets that.”

“Unless it’s play.” Maki sat up, hands holding what were probably imaginary drumsticks, ready to join in. “That’s better than listening.”

“Nico’s been listening all night. Playing is more fun. Singing is even more fun for Nico.”

Maki, amethyst eyes serious, nodded, “I get that.” She bounced up, pulled the arm back as soon as the song was over, flipped open a panel to reveal a laptop, and started typing, “What do you want to sing. I’ll load up the karaoke track.”

That was easy, Nico thought, stay on theme. “Let’s start at the start.”

Maki glanced over her shoulder, “Meet me at midnight?”

Nico winked and the music started.

“Staring at the ceiling with you Oh, you don't ever say too much And you don't really read into My melancholia

I been under scrutiny (Yeah, oh, yeah) You handle it beautifully (Yeah, oh, yeah) All this shit is new to me (Yeah, oh, yeah)

I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me

Surreal I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal The 1950s shit they want from me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze”

After “Lavendar Haze”, Maki had queued up “Purple Rain,” which had led to Nico jumping all over the couch while Maki played drums on a cushion to “The Glamorous Life.”

Nico pulled out two bottles of an orange-y juice thing and tossed one to Maki. She’d shed her bomber at the beginning of The Glamorous Life and was warm enough after all the dancing, but she could feel a chill cutting in the air.

“Does the fireplace work?”

“Sure. Are you getting cold?”

“Nico runs hot, but yeah.” Nico flumped on the sectional. Maki was suddenly behind her with an afghan.

“That should help while I get the fire going.”

“What time is it? Don’t you have to get back to the party?”

Maki shook her head, “My parents are used to me disappearing.”

Nico made a mental note. Introvert. Ditches parties.

“You should have a snack stash. For Nico.”

“For Nico?” Maki raised an eyebrow, “Will you be back?”

“‘ ‘s a decent stereo.”

Maki snorted, “It’s the best stereo in Chicago. I put it together myself.”

“Nerd. Nico does like the best though.”

Maki paused, “Did you want to go back to the party? Do the countdown, midnight thing…”

“Nah, it’s nice here. Nico wants a fire, not fireworks.”

“Me too.” Maki muttered, piling kindling, stacking logs, using a long lighter to spark a fire, then stepping back as the flames grew.

“No snack stash?” Nico whined hopefully. “C’mon, be a hostess with the mostess.”

Maki grinned, ‘Give me two minutes.”

Nico snuggled into the corner of the sectional, afghan pulled up around her, watching the flames lick over the logs. The door opened and as Maki stepped in, she heard the party crowd getting louder. Maki had an armful of boxes and bags: cinnamony brown sugar Poptarts and cereal, popcorn, mini cookies.

“Anything pink?”

Maki handed Nico a small container that said Old World Spumoni Gelato, “It’s got black cherries, does that count?”

“Nico can do cherries. Nico can do chocolate. But Nico needs a spoon.”

Maki handed Nico a rectangular shortbread cookie. “Use this. Tastes amazing.” Demonstrating by scraping off the top layer, Maki settled back on the sectional, happily opening a cereal box.

“Did you bring milk?”

Maki pulled two boxes out of her pants pockets.

“You’re too fashionable for an icebox, Nishikino. That’s a crime against those pants.” Nico laughed, scraping her own dose of chocolate cherry pistachio gelato with a shortbread plank.

“We missed midnight.” Maki said, her voice sad, but her eyes twinkling, The fire had begun to warm the room.

“We could fake it.”

“How?”

“Nico can count down from ten.”

“And then?” Maki’s question was hesitant, heavy in the air.

“More gelato and colorful musical segues. Nico’s not done for the night, you just fueled up her sugar tank.” Another cookie, even more gelato curled into a scoop on the end.

“Okay.”

Nico chomped, feeling the cold invigorate her, “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!” Throwing off the afghan, Nico jumped up, bouncing and twirling on the sofa, arms thrown upward, shouting, “Happy New Year!!! Happy 2023 Chicago!!!” When she was sure she had Maki’s attention, Nico brought her hand to her mouth and quickly blew a kiss in the redhead’s direction. “There, you can tell your mother you got your kiss.” Nico bowed, amazed at her own performance, and took the orange juice-y thingie to switch for water. She was going to send Maki on a hot chocolate run pretty soon. That gelato was a tasty chill on the roof of her mouth that was not going away.

Maki hung over the back of the couch, watching Nico as she crouched in front of the mini fridge. When Nico glanced over, about to ask something, Maki frowned, curling a twist of hair.

“You okay?”

“Fine. Put on an album you like.”

“Are you ready for a new year full of K-pop?”

“Sure.”

“Can I pull the laptop out?”

“Why?”

“So we can watch the latest Inkigayo episode in front of this cozy fire.”

“Okay. But there’s a screen right here.” Maki pointed to the right of the fire.

“Laptops are cozier.”

“If you say so.”

“Nico does.”

Maki crunched her cereal while Nico set up the laptop between them, leaning in, legs stretched out to the side. The fire had achieved the quiet popping level of burn and Maki stretched out opposite Nico, their shoulders and heads meeting in the middle to watch the screen propped up on pillows.

“Ready? Nico knows this is going to change everything for you.”

Maki settled into a comfortable position. Just when the silence had gotten uncomfortable and Nico was about to hit play, Maki spoke softly, staring into the fire.

“Happy New Year, Nico. Thanks for being here.”

“It's nice here.” Nico said quickly and then the K-pop chatter started.

Not how Nico’s new year’s usually started, with a room full of dancing, yelling, playing and a face warmed with sibling kisses. But tonight, here with Maki, there was something new in the air. And Nico liked it.

A/N: The Week 8 @sapphicfest prompt was "curled by the fire" and I've been missing NicoMaki cozy content so here we are. Hope you enjoy.

[ladydragonkiller]

so like. what happened at jonny and tim's last date night?

Tim smiled across the table, doing his best to portray contentment, affection, and just enough mischief to make Jonny nervous. It was a delicate balance. If he let too much in, Jonny would become suspicious and call off the date all-together. If there was too little, well, that would just put Jonny even more on edge. The low amount of average, that would be ideal. 

Tim felt he was hitting that target fairly well. 

Jonny was smiling back, but there was definitely a hint of suspicion around his eyes. Perfect.

“So, how was your day, dear?” Tim asked, shaking out his napkin and spreading it delicately on his lap. He may not have been familiar with the ins and outs of high society back when he was a mortal, but there’d been plenty of time to learn since then.

Jonny shrugged. “The usual. Spent some time. . .entertaining Nastya as she did repairs, spent some time recuperating afterwards. Made a list of the most entertaining ways to kill someone. Nothing too special.” He looked doubtfully down at the utensils, spread out on either side of the plate. Tim had made sure that there were no knives in the mix. It’d be a pity if date night were to be cut short. 

There was a pause. Tim raised an eyebrow meaningfully at Jonny, who was still scowling at the utensils. After a few seconds, he looked up, and the scowl deepened. “How was your day, Gunpowder?” he asked in a voice thick with mock politeness.

Tim smiled. “Wonderful! I dismantled two of the guns in arm storage and reassembled them into one larger gun. Would you like to test it out with me later?”

There was definite interest there for a second. Then Jonny’s eyes narrowed. “Test it out how?”

Damn, Tim had really thought that would slip by him. Then again, Jonny’s capacity to sniff out violence in any activity was just about unmatched. Fortunately for Tim, this ability didn’t include actual smells.

The fuse had been timed precisely. He’d even asked Ivy to double check his math, which she’d done without asking what the calculation was for. Not that she’d have objected. 

It was a long one, one of the longest in Tim’s collection. Should give about a half hour of rundown from the moment it was lit, which had been about ten minutes ago. Plenty of time for a quick dinner. If he trusted Ivy’s math, and it’d be idiotic not to, the fuse would run out just in time for dessert.

He’d made tiramisu.

In fact, putting together all the dishes for tonight’s meal had taken Tim nearly since lunch. It was nice to make full use of Aurora’s resequencers and well-stocked kitchen, when they were in good working order. Today, the only broken appliance was the microwave, which Tim didn’t like using anyways. 

With a flourish of the hand, Tim lifted the cover off of the appetizer. Steam wafted gently upwards from the spinach puffs, a few flakes of phyllo dough falling to the plate below. Carefully, Tim scooped one puff onto Jonny’s plate and a second onto his own, then replaced the cover. It wouldn’t do for the food to get cold.

Jonny poked doubtfully at the puff with a spoon. “What’s in this?”

Tim took a breath in, ready to start listing ingredients, then deflated slightly. “No meat, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Not even human?”

“Unless humans are made of spinach and feta, no.”

Jonny forced his spoon down through the puff, cutting off a bite. He chewed it thoughtfully. “Remind me why I come to these things again?”

Tim, momentarily regretting not setting out knives, drove his spoon into his own spinach puff. He shoved a bite into his mouth, realized it was still steaming hot, and doubled down, chewing and swallowing through the pain. Trying not to let his discomfort show--he’d be damned if Jonny got the upper hand--he smiled sweetly. “Because you love me.”

“With every ounce of my heart,” Jonny griped. “What’s next?”

Huh. Jonny’s plate was empty. When had that happened? Tim resisted the urge to look under the table for an octokitten licking their lips. He felt like he’d know if one was there. Besides, if Jonny had been hiding things under the table, he’d almost definitely have found certain. . .other items that were currently down there. 

Unless Jonny knew, and was pulling some sort of double-bluff. Tim wasn’t sure how that would work in this situation, but he wouldn’t put it past him. 

“For our next course,” Tim intoned, pulling the cover off of the largest platter on the table, “We have-”

“Military rations?” Jonny’s voice was loud with. . .with a whole mix of things, really. Mostly disgust, but Tim liked to think there was a little surprise and fondness hidden in there. 

“Military rations!” Tim replied, handing Jonny one of the well-wrapped packages. “I believe these ones are ‘Sunday Roast’ flavoured, which means they have a little less sodium than the ‘Beans ‘n Bacon’ flavour and a little more than ‘Chicken Noodle’. They’re Commander Grade!”

Halfway through tearing through the package’s wrapper, Jonny dropped the meal kit to the table. “Commander?”

“Quite.”

“Now.” Jonny, now holding a fork which was certainly not aimed towards his plate, glared at Tim. “Would I be correct in assumin’ that there is a Lieutenant Commander Grade also offered?”

Tim hummed agreeably, taking a bite of some brown and saucy substance. He loved military rations. So convenient. Reminded him of the good old days.

“And the option one step superior?”

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Would you believe me if I said I can’t remember?”

Jonny’s fork was promptly stabbed into the wood of the table. Prongs-up, which was impressive. Had Jonny been working out?

No, that was the section of the table that had been weakened by acid during Raphaella’s last demonstration. Unless that had been the other side?

Tim dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding a spoon to the windpipe. Terrible way to die, that. “Now, there’s no need to get violent,” he exclaimed with delight.

“I’ll show you violent,” Jonny growled, leaping up onto the table. Tim spared a thought to be grateful that the tiramisu was still in the fridge, then grabbed hold of the tablecloth and yanked. Jonny did some sort of crouching leap, barely clearing the appetizer platter as it went zooming under his feet.

The platter crashed to the floor in a percussive sound matching some of Brian’s more enthusiastic performances, providing a delightful accompaniment as Tim snatched a fork out of midair and levied it at Jonny. “Ah-HA!”

Jonny snarled and leapt into the air once again, this time with enough forward momentum to crash right into Tim. They both fell backwards, Tim’s head banging across the floor with enough force to-

To pop one of his eyes right out. Great.

“Hey, I was using that!” Tim said, trying to get his arm out from under him so he could push Jonny off. Jonny was equally engaged with the task of pressing the spoon to Tim’s throat. 

“Acknowledge my authority.”

“Never.” His arm finally popped free. With the momentum of the motion, Tim swung around and rolled over Jonny. “We haven’t even had dessert yet, and you’re already trying to kill me. I’m saddened, Jonny, really.”

Jonny squirmed, managing to slide through Tim’s grip. “Did you expect any different?”

“Of course not, but I do know how you hate to be predictable,” Tim replied, clambering to his feet. He walked over to the table and picked up Jonny’s chair, gesturing towards it. Jonny walked forwards and sat down, dusting off his trousers.

Tim rounded the table and surveyed his own chair. It was smashed to unusable bits from the impact of Jonny. He sighed and kneeled in front of the table. He’d moved all the other chairs away earlier to give the room a slightly more intimate feel, not realizing the tragedy that would occur.

There were going to be splinters in his knees for weeks.

“So, what’s for dessert?”

Tim clapped his hands together twice, and the Toy Soldier made a graceful entrance, carrying the third and final covered platter. It set the platter down on the table, bowed, clicked its heels, and exited once more. Tim waved for Jonny to uncover the platter.

He did so, albeit cautiously, peaking under the cover before lifting it up all the way. Despite his suspicion, there was simply a lovely crystal plate with a tiramisu on it, layers of ladyfinger sponge and mascarpone filling towering high. It had already been cut into slices, so Jonny was able to take one without need of a knife. 

Tim was good at planning ahead and all that. Came from years of military strategy and some good old-fashioned insanity.

The tiramisu was delicious, as he had expected. He’d asked both Marius and Ivy for tips on how to go about making it, and though their advice came from completely different philosophies, it had turned out alright in the end. 

Surreptitiously, Tim glanced at his watch. The fuse had been set nearly half an hour ago by now, so his timing was bang-on.

“Jonny dearest, would you like to hear how this was made?”

“You’re going to tell me either way.”

“Quite so. See, the base is made of a fairly basic sponge cake, which is soaked with a sugar syrup, strong coffee, and alcohol.”

Jonny took another bite. “Not enough alcohol, if you ask me.”

“I followed the recipe exactly. Mostly.”

“Mostly exactly, what does that-”

“And then,” Tim interrupted, “The cake layers are assembled with a filling of mascarpone cheese and whipped cream. Now, this filling wouldn’t be stable on it’s own, it’d deflate and then the cake would be sad.”

“Reminds me of your face.”

Well, at least he hadn’t gone for the hair this time. “So to stabilize it, I made a special little mixture. Would you like to know the name of this mixture?” Tim glanced at his watch, trying to hide his smile.

Jonny batted his eyelashes sarcastically, an impressive feat when they were nearly entirely eclipsed by his eyeliner. “Why of course, Tim darling.”

“I’d be happy to tell you. It’s made with egg yolks and melted sugar, and it’s called. . .” he paused for effect, and because there were a good five seconds left on by his count. “Pâte à Bombe.”

Three. . .

“I bloody knew it!”

Two. . .

“Tim, you bastard, I knew all this was too good to be-”

One. . .

“-true, where’d you hide it you fu-”

BOOM.

---

The last thing that went through Jonny’s mind was how much he was looking forward to one-upping this trick at the next date night.

The last thing that went through Tim’s mind was the tiramisu.

[sophiegoose]

Had a dream last night that I went to a restaurant that some of my friends had recommended

Putzed around a strange little town on a little motorized scooter until I was deep within a vibrant and futuristic market district

Had to wander around a bit until I found the place, which was inside another, different restaurant in the bougiest part of the district

The place was small, secluded, and had very narrow open/closed times, as well as needing a reservation

Thankfully, I'd already gotten one, as apparently I was having a date here

Get inside and the place was very plain and casual: limited decoration and theming, as if they had simply bought a small warehouse and slapped whatever spare furniture and rugs they had into the space

I sat down to order and lord, it was wild

30$ a pop for appetizers that were barely a bite each, which already rubbed me the wrong way, but I decided to pick up two plates of hummus

Anyway, my date showed up, and we literally had a whole 2 hour long date without a hint of our food showing up, so I went and asked for it, and the wait staff was super rude and acted as if I'd done something deeply wrong by asking for it

My date left after a while, but I was determined to get my damn 60$ worth of hummus and find out what all the hub-bub was about

Cut to another hour later and I'm now arguing with the chef in the kitchen about my appetizer taking 3+ hours to make, we verbally tussle for a bit, then I wrap up my check and leave

Cut to me standing outside on the street, leaning on my scooter as I sulk, scrolling through a weird, conglomerated social media app on my phone

Apparently I'm following this restaurant on their social media page, and I see a post from their chef saying something along the lines of "lol, some stupid customer came in today and expected two whole apps to be done before 11pm lmaooooo what a loser" with a bunch of laugh reacts and supportive comments

Then I promptly woke up and was just sitting there in bed like-

Anyway, fuck you random restaurant deep in my subconscious mind, I hope you go out of business

[misfitwashere]

What are some unwritten social rules everyone should know?

From Matt Bennett on Quora:

Being a socially awkward introvert many years back, here are a few I learned from doing so many damn things wrong.

Use or forget whichever you wish:

Send the last text when you initiate one

Spot your friend a $20 when he’s throwing a drinking party

Wipe off the sink edge with your used paper towel in a public restroom

Brush your teeth before going out

Wipe off gym equipment after you use it

Don’t ask friends to help you move if you can afford movers

Don’t look to profit off of friends

Give friends a small gift when friends make a big move

See your friends in the hospital…every time

Never split the check with a friend (unless you can't afford it)

If you’re late to meet up, you pay the tab

First round is on you

Politely ask for your order to be corrected so you’re not a liar when they ask you how your meal was

Support your friend’s business. Help for free. Pay full price

If you lead the relationship, don’t be caught without a plan

Never say, “I’m thinking about doing [insert cool thing here].” Either you’re doing it or not. Which leads to…

Don’t talk about things you’ve done. Let people discover them

One-upping someone’s story is bad form

Exercise so you have the energy and mental health to bring along to the party

Play the “find the other introvert” game and welcome them

Don’t talk about work unless people REALLY want to know

Make your home comfortable to be in - you never know when a friend needs a place to stay

Buy and share the appetizer with the group

When you don’t know what to ask, say, “So, what have you been up to lately?” That will give you plenty to talk about

If someone starts down a negative conversation path, naturally divert the conversation so they don’t hate themselves later

Don’t show up empty handed

Ask about their vacation if they just went on one

Always ask to see their new car

Help put your dishes away

Show up on time or a few minutes after. Don’t show up early - they’re probably scrambling to get ready

Never ghost the host or you deserve to never be invited again

Keep an overnight bag in the car with underwear, toothbrush, etc just in case they invite you to stay. And…

Keep hygiene items at your house and easily available

Always have the right stuff in your bathroom to fix clogged toilets

Don’t burden your guests by making them cater to your special food preferences. But…

If you’re hosting a small dinner party, ask them theirs

Don’t hover outside a conversation circle hoping to be invited. Instead…

Easily break into existing conversations by asking, “Mind if I join you?” They won’t say no

If you often find yourself offended, you’re the problem

Follow the ‘yes, and’ improv rule to keep fun conversations going

Don’t bring up “blue” topics - sickness, death, destruction unless you’re having an intimate conversation with someone close

Personal hygiene cannot be understated, which leads to…

the number one rule of socializing…

Be the person who brightens a room when you walk in, not when you walk out.

[existentiallitterbox]

In Defense Of: a dirty martini

I love a cocktail. 

Especially for breakfast—or um, brunch. Is that the correct term the kids are throwing around these days? Yes, let’s call it “brunch.” That makes me sound like a way better person.

Which is great, right?

Cocktails. They’re all the rage these days. Everywhere you look, new pop-up bars and “extreme bartenders” are coming up with creative concoctions loaded with everything from campfire smoke to certified organic Sherpa harvested Nepalese pepper.

 Love it. I’m here for it.

Pepper me up, honey; this liver isn’t here forever.

I’m on the Lemmy-Motorhead-plan—in a slightly more socially acceptable anxiety-ridden sort of way—I’m okay with sliding into the grave like Nomar Garciaparra after a long-winded OCD batting glove preamble.

That’s a baseball reference for those of you playing along at home.

So, seeking out original and exciting alchemic mixtures for quality control is high on my list of daily,                I mean, weekly activities. I generally have help in this endeavor. Never drink alone, kids.

The bartender counts.

With all this new and generally fancy experimentation going on, I need a nice old-fashioned shout-out to my favorite MVP: The Dirty Martini.

Back in the good old days, when I lived in Boston, there was a quaint little haunt right down the street from my Beacon Hill condo—

down the road, which was sad going home.

Hills and heels, ladies, am I right?                As if I wear heels…

A fine establishment – still in operation last I checked – that made the best dirty martini I’ve ever had. They also had some killer tuna tartar. If you ever wondered where all the credit card debt in my 20’s came from, consider the mystery solved.

It would go as follows: dark lighted booths, jazz playing loudly in the background, the place is packed. We move around dresses and suits to our table, always in the corner. I order the tuna; I told you it’s good. My husband orders the burger.

“Dirty Martini?” The waiter asks, his voice shouting over the din of drunk bankers. they know me here

“Kettle One,” I shout back, dodging some girl’s purse as she climbs out of the booth next to me.

“Filthy.” He winks at me and runs off to the bar. They know me here.

Remember the credit card debt? I do.

What makes it so unique? What, exactly, are they doing so right?

It’s Ice. Fucking. Cold. If you don’t lose three fingers to frostbite, they’re not doing it right. Freeze the damn glass, people. It’s called standards.

Kettle One. This one’s on me. Do not pour any of that Gray Goose shit into my life. I can tell, almost on sight, if a tragedy has occurred in my glass. No one needs that kind of disappointment.

It’s foggy like the Gray Lady and well-balanced. Olive juice is critical here. Too much and the vodka goes missing, too little, and it’s just another crap martini from some person who has no idea what they’re doing, but it’s here now, so I’ll drink it.

“Win or lose, we booze.” 

You want to see the olives.

Note: that was plural. Olives. The ‘S’is what matters.

You don’t want to see them too clearly. They’re in there. You know it, you can see the little stick poking out, but there’s a fine mist out over the water, and the ferry is coming in.

Olives.  

Plural.

There are multiple olives in this scenario. A minimum of three is ideal, but of course, that is somewhat negotiable based on glass size, olive size, and stick size. That iconic image of the single olive martini is just the bartender being stingy. The olives are the amuse-bouche people; they are the actual first course. Ordered appetizers? Take your time; I’ve got a snack.

That’s it. Is that so hard?

Me: “In England, you’d think it was actual rocket science.”

Waiter: “I think for British people it is.”

It's the ice cold glass. it's not a hint, it's a fact

Some people will even tell you it’s better to order a traditional martini over a fancy cocktail because there’s more alcohol, and you can order less of them. I think “ordering less of them” is a personal choice between you and your designated driver. Never leave home without one!

The problem of vermouth.

So here we go. Feel free to fight in the comments section.

Yes.

That’s pretty much it for me. I’m emotionally okay with adding a little extra alcohol. It’s traditional; it gives it a little different, something unique.

Don’t be a hater.

There’s room at the table for one more.

So, my friends, although I do love a rosehip syrup, bee pollen, elderflower, and orange juice-laden cocktail with a thimble full of extra smoky small-batch mezcal...

You can’t have a profound—ly slurred conversation with your bartender

about your prevailing existential dread with something pink.

Not up for discussion.

Tune in next time for Why the Cosmo Helps Us Face the Black Hole of Our Existence.

-m.p.chappell

[pantherazuredevil]

Japan Trip 2023 - Day 3 (Yugashima Tatsuta) Part 2

Continued from Part 1

I took a chill pill till dinner, which I had also booked at the ryokan itself alongside breakfast. Here's a video of the view from my room.

I had heard good things about meals at a ryokan and wasn't about to miss out on the experience. Yugashima Tatsuta also boasts of a concept of "kawadoko", which is sitting by the river while eating to enjoy the tranquility as you eat, apparently the only ryokan in Izu to do so.

At dinner time, I went to the basement restaurant and was directed to my seat by the same attendant who had helped me with checking in. My seat had a kotatsu built in, damn that was nice. The atmosphere of sitting right beside the river too brought with it a certain type of natural charm that can be difficult to find nowadays. Here's a short video of the view from my seat depicting the concept of "kawadoko", which is eating beside a river. Fantastic experience.

The attendant introduced all of the dishes to me and most of them flew over my head since it was all in Japanese, though I did recognize some of the dishes he described. The menu is the top picture so feel free to have a look at it enlarged. Appetizers were good, just not fully to my liking. Grilling things myself was a little different than the usual, and it actually felt nice to have to cook part of the meal yourself, albeit very little cooking of course. The grilled food was sizzling hot and that definitely added to the enjoyment factor in the cold weather.

What I had the most respect for though was the kinkanzake (金柑酒 or kumquat sake). It was sweet to the point of it being like a fruit juice, yet mixed so well with the alcohol that it tasted like a very well done cocktail. Such goodness could only be homemade. I asked the Japanese attendant about it and it seemed like the itachou (chef) there made it personally, and of course it couldn't be found outside, so I was right on the money. She told me they would have to tag additional costs on if I ordered another and that it would come in a 600ml size, which I knew I wouldn't be able to finish at all, so I had to give up on the idea. I should've asked if it was in a bottle though, then I could have brought that home and wouldn't mind paying for it.

Next up was the nabe or hotpot as we call it. Locally sourced vegetables and chicken were boiled in front of you to make one of the best hotpots I've ever tasted in my life. It was all very fresh and the dashi (soup) was really excellent. I drank too much of it though.

When the attendant who brought me the nabe explained the dishes, he also mentioned that rice would be coming and could be soaked in the soup, so if I wanted to have that, I should leave some soup. I forgot in all the sumptuous thrill about that little piece of advice, though it hurt me in a way I didn't imagine at the time.

Next up was a tempura dish of local vegetables rather than shrimp. It was also very good though I would have preferred soaking some in that soup. Then came the rice and the attendant also refilled the soup, which I was relieved about until I realized that by drinking so much of the soup earlier, I would be too full to finish the rice as well as the soup that had just come. It was a harrowing journey to finish all of it.

During the appetizer part I was messaging friends and contemplating on how delicious the meal was, then one of them said, "No it's a full course", and this was definitely not the way I wanted to find out. Even though I hadn't actually eaten any snacks since lunch, I would still have loved to be mentally prepared to come and enjoy a full course meal.

I was serviced by the Japanese attendant throughout the last part of my meal. There was an English speaker behind me and the first attendant was attending to him in English. I also met with the Indonesian who had brought me there and greeted him enthusiastically. I didn't get a chance to thank him again though for the day.

I came dangerously close to being filled to the brim and almost finished all of the rice. They then asked if I would be fine with dessert and I was like "bring it on". Dessert was very good too, two pieces of different citrus fruits and that creamy stuff with the strawberry on it. The onigiri you see could be taken back to my room for supper, and I did just that since I knew I wouldn't be able to finish them. A 1.5-hour meal in total, I definitely wasn't expecting that, but it was time and money well spent.

I went back to my room to watch videos, update my journal and chill in general. The idea was to wait for enough time to pass so I could go for a night bath undisturbed. Here's a video I took of the night-time view of the river. It wasn't super dark but I doubt the scenery could be seen on the camera of my phone.

It was also here that I used a Japanese toilet system for the first time and boy, now I see what all the rave is about. I would want one too if they weren't so expensive to install.

I was finally able to go take another shower and a soak at Gekkabijin late at night and jeez, that felt really good. Here's a video I took of Gekkabijin by night.

Back at my room, I decided to retire earlier since I was apprehensive about getting to the station on time for my train ride to Kyoto, which was next on my itinerary, but that's a problem for the next day.

In closing, I highly recommend Yugashima Tatsuta as a place to stay for at least one night, maybe two if you're up for it. I booked it for about SGD250 in total or so for one person, which is a reasonable price for a 1 night stay complete with both meals that are so luxurious and 4 private onsen (I only used one because I was only aiming for Gekkabijin) that you can use at any time so long as they were unoccupied by others. I highly suggest coming here in spring and autumn, as winter might be a bit too cold for some, though that could be amazing for others.

People have been asking me if I felt like going back to Japan now that I've gone once. I can't answer definitively about most of the places I've been to in my trip, but for Yugashima Tatsuta? Definitely worth a return, to try out the other onsen baths and for the food once more. Reservations are available online via Expedia and Booking.com I do believe, and getting there is a bit of a hassle, but follow the instructions from the video I linked in part 1 about the whole place and you should be just fine. There's a direct train from Tokyo to where you would take a bus as explained in the video, so anyone planning to stick around Tokyo might want to consider taking 2 days and 1 night out for this ryokan.

[clericofshadows]

past meets present

Description: Regis runs into someone from the past while he and Zaeed are waiting for Kaidan to join them on their date.

Paring: Regis Shepard/Kaidan Alenko/Zaeed Massani

Note; Takes place a few years post ME3.

KA: Sorry loves, I’m going to be a bit late.  Meeting is running over with no end in sight!  

Regis checked his omnitool to see Kaidan’s message flashing at the top.  That explains why Kaidan hadn’t met them at Apollo’s, despite his usual promptness.

Regis glanced up at Zaeed, who also had his omnitool out.

“Sounds like we’re on our own for a while,” Zaeed said.  “That school keeps him so goddamn busy.”

Regis typed out a reply.  “Price he pays for not being on the station in person all the damn time.”

RS: Want us to go ahead and order?  We can wait for you. KA: Nah, don’t worry about it.  Don’t let me prevent you from eating.  Can’t have a grumpy Zee on our hands. ZM: I can see that. KA: I know :).  I’ve done enough chatting.  I can always ask you to get me something to-go.  It’s fine.

ZM: No, it’s not.  We’ll order as many goddamn appetizers as it takes to wait for you. KA: <3.

Regis took that as a sign he was done talking for now.  Zaeed reached over and grabbed Regis’s hand, lacing their fingers together on the table.  

The waiter–Alyx, if he remembered correctly, never being great with names–came back by, asking if they were ready for anything.  Regis went ahead and ordered them some fried chicken bites smothered with spicy peppers, and Zaeed opted for a platter of egg rolls and another beer. 

“Anything else, gentleman?” The waiter asked. “Usually I don't see just the two of you here.”

“We're waiting on our third.  He might be a while,” Regis replied, setting down the menu. “We’ll wait and order our usual when he gets here.”

“Of course. Just let me know.  I’ll go ahead and get those appetizers out for you.” The waiter left with a nod.

Zaeed finished off his first pint. “50 credits says this whole meeting could've been an email.”

“You say that every time.”

“So, are you taking the bet or not?”

Regis took a sip of his lemonade.  “No.”

“You’re no fun.”

Regis only smiled in response.  “You won’t be saying that later tonight.”

Zaeed rolled his eyes.  “Indulge me.  I know he loves this program, but how many times a month do we hear him bitching about the content of the meetings?”

“Price he pays for not being there in person,” Regis said again with a pointed look.  “Soon enough we’ll all be back on Arcturus, and I imagine then he’ll have no issues.  For now, this is the best thing they can do.”

“When did you get to be so diplomatic?” Zaeed snorted.

“I can think of a few reasons.” Regis started counting on his fingers to make a point.  “Galactic war and all the shit I had to deal with, post-Alpha Relay summits before Wren and Hackett got smart and used the resources I got for us, hmm… post-war summits and all that shit… Can I keep going or have I made myself clear?”

“Crystal.  I guess you’re right.  We really can’t complain.”

“Not unless you want to do long distance.”

“Rather not.”

The waiter came back with their appetizers, setting the plates down along with three small plates and another glass of Zaee’s preferred beer.  Nice little touch.  They hesitated for a moment.

“Something wrong?” Regis asked.

They pulled a face.  “Depends.  I know you typically like a quiet evening and all… but there is a woman over on the balcony inquiring about you.”

They were right.  Neither of them were particularly fond of the attention that lands on them at all times, although the luster had died down since the end of the war.  Still, there were fans who wanted to meet the great Admiral Shepard, and Regis always turned them down. He is not some prize to look at.

On the off chance it was something interesting… “Did she give a name?” Regis asked.

“She did.  Rahna Akar.”

Regis found himself dragged by… Kaidan?  Was that his name?  He was too distracted looking into his eyes, nothing but kindness and a beautiful dark brown full of warmth.  Either way, he was the one good thing so far out of this fucking place. “Come on, let’s meet more people!  You can’t hole yourself up in there all the time.  Let me introduce you to Rahna, she’s one of our dorm buddies.”

A blast from the past.  Interesting.  And Kaidan isn’t here to witness it.

Even Zaeed quirked an eyebrow at that.  Regis nodded, curious to hear from her.  “She’s fine to come over.”

“Oh?  Alright, I’ll let her know.”  They walked away.  Regis watched as they approached a table far from them, right next to the balcony. 

There was a woman sitting alone, clothed in a simple, but professional dress Regis sees often on the Citadel.  He couldn't make out her face just yet, but as she got up, he immediately recognized her.  Older, yes, but still the striking woman that was part of their friend group at BAaT.

Well, part of Kaidan’s group.  Regis took a lot longer to warm up to anyone that wasn’t Kaidan, still angry about not learning biotics from Vik. Still, his mother’s decision led him to Kaidan, and he can’t really imagine a universe in which he didn’t meet up during BAaT.  And through that, they met Zaeed.

Regis can’t really bring himself to be angry about it anymore, knowing what BAaT gave him in the end.

Rahna approached them, standing next to their table, glancing down at the empty chair.  “You’re looking well, Regis… or is it Admiral?”

“It’s Regis,” he said.  “How’s life treating you?” 

“Well, all things considered… When I saw you, I thought that…” she trailed off.  “Never mind.  I guess I shouldn’t ask for much after everything.”

She wanted to see Kaidan, not that he was surprised.

Regis shrugged.  “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.  Not really, anyway, if that’s what this is all about.”  He moved to grab an egg roll and a couple of pieces of chicken, pushing them onto his plate.  “This is Zaeed, our husband.  Apologies for not immediately introducing you two.”

He nodded at her but didn’t offer anything else in response.

“Yes, I thought I recognized him.  I’m Rahna,” she said, belatedly.  “I apologize for the intrusion.  If I caught you off guard, then you most definitely did for me,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Sit,” Zaeed said to Regis’s surprise.  “Kaidan was held up by something, but if you want to speak to him, now’s your chance.”

“Are you sure?  I don’t want to intrude,” she hesitated in her tone, but her hand already went to the chair.  “I’ve already eaten.”

Regis wanted to be a bit of an ass and say she already intruded, but he bit his tongue.  Zaeed seemed to pick up on it, though, hiding a grin behind his drink.  “Sure, go ahead.” “Thanks!” She brightened up, taking a seat.  Their waiter came back and asked if she needed anything.  She asked for a glass of water.

The atmosphere of the table was a bit awkward, Regis and Zaeed digging into their food while she waited for her drink, later sipping at her water after the water brought it by.  

“So,” she started.  “I guess you know everything, Zaeed?”

He nodded.  “We don’t keep secrets from each other.  I know what happened, every goddamn bit.”

“It’s been a long time since then,” she said, not quite meeting their gaze.  “We’ve… you’ve changed a lot since then.”

“Never thought the bratty angry kid could become the savior of the galaxy?” He asked but tried to keep it light.  It must’ve failed by the way she seemed to flinch a bit.

Probably not helped by his cybernetics.  He knows his glowing eyes are off-putting to some, and with his scars and general attitude, he’s not the nicest guy out there.

It also doesn’t help that Regis had a crush on Kaidan from the beginning and admittedly, never got on well with Rahna as a result of that.  He tried to be civil for Kaidan’s sake, but it didn’t always work out.

“Well, no–sorry–” she started, but Regis interrupted her.

“No, I’m sorry,” he sighed.  “I was a bitch during BAaT.”

“You really were,” she laughed, and Regis had to hold back a dark look.  “I swear I’ve never seen anyone so jealous.  Kind of surprised me to see your wedding pictures on the ‘net… hell, my husband immediately showed me the details.”  Regis held back a frown.

Married and with a spouse who knows at least some of the details from BAaT.

“You’re married?” Regis asked, not noticing a ring on her finger.  She was, however, wearing a necklace with the pendant noticeably tucked into her neckline.  Regis didn't think anything of it, often doing the same with his rings, keeping him close to his chest.

“I am, yes,  Nearly ten years now,” she said.

Zaeed gave Regis a questioning look before asking, “Regis can be a jealous bastard at times, yes, but never with us and what we have.  What are you trying to pull?”

Regis wasn’t going to comment on it, but Zaeed had a point. 

She frowned.  “I’m not trying to pull anything.  Last I saw Regis… well, it’s not important.  Sorry if I caused any offense.”

Regis waved it off, but something about her comment still stung.  He wasn’t about to fully let it go, throwing out one last comment.  “Communication is key, and one thing that we’ve always tried to be good at.  Only way we can make this work.  Didn’t really have a lot of that back in the day, did we?  Goes a long way to clearing the air.”

Her face stayed carefully stoic.  “It’s good that you both found so much happiness despite everything.”

More like in spite of everything.  Regis dropped it, for now.  Now’s not really the time to be petty, but a small, dark, and vindictive part of him was happy that he was the one that helped Kaidan in the end.   “I’m glad to hear you did well, too.  Still use your biotics?  Or did you go for the program to tamper down the L2s?”

She nodded, loosening up a bit.  “You and Miss Lawson did incredible work on that, by the way.  Yes, I went for the reduction.  Wore a low-power, low-energy amp for years until you came up with that method.  I feel… a lot freer now.”

Regis and Miranda spent time trying to improve amp and implant structure, as well as introducing more ways to use cybernetics in the field of medicine.  Kaidan’s biotic school was his pet project; Regis’s was his cybernetics programs.  With Miranda’s knowledge from Lazarus, they were able to reverse engineer parts of the L2 and give recipients of the implants two major choices: refit with an upgraded implant with fewer risks, or downgrade down and lose most, if not all biotic ability.  Vikram also got involved, using their centuries of medical experience and biotic implant knowledge to get their methods out there.  A third, lesser chosen option was to retrofit the L2 with some improvements to further reduce risk, but not all side effects were lost. 

Kaidan, like him, still uses the L2.  It’s been a successful program, and these days Regis is happy enough to spend his time overseeing that.  He’s still an Admiral and a Spectre, but not as out in the field as much.

The Normandy is in new hands.  Much of the crew has gone their separate, but happy ways.  And soon enough, Regis might find himself living damn near full time on a space station.

Who knew?

“I’m glad to hear it’s been useful to you,” Regis said, hoping the sincerity was coming through.  “BAaT made many things clear to us.”

“If I ever have kids who manifest, I know who I’m sending them to.  I really should be saying this to him, but…” she trailed off, and Regis had a feeling he knew what she was about to say.

Before Regis could say anything, his omnitool pinged.

KA: Meeting’s done, I’m heading down as fast as humanly possible.

Zaeed opened his omnitool and a smirk appeared on his face.  Oh no.

ZM: Could it have been an email?

Regis rolled his eyes and gave him a pointed look.  Rahna looked at them in a hilarious expression of pure confusion.

KA: No, Zee, it couldn’t. ZM: Dammit.  Anyway, we have company. KA: You… do?

RS: What Zaeed is trying to say is that we ran into someone unexpected.  Rahna.

Kaidan started typing and stopped, and then started again, and then stopped again.

Finally, he sent a message.

KA: Wow.  That is unexpected.  I guess she wants to talk to me?

RS: I’ve gotten that impression, but we’ve had a good conversation so far.  I won’t spoil all the details.   KA: Of course not.  Be there soon. XX

Regis and Zaeed sent kisses in response before powering off their tools.

“He’s on his way,” Regis said, and she immediately seemed to tense back up.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine,” Zaeed said, his voice taking on a tender tone.  

“I really shouldn’t be worried.  Kaidan was always such a sweetheart, and then–” She made a motion with her hand.  “That was all I could see.  Still see, sometimes.”

Regis wasn’t about to admit that Vyrnnus stopped haunting his dreams many, many years ago.  Kaidan coming in and saving the day changed the narrative for him.

Instead for her, it was likely another nightmare.  He understands.  Being an Alliance spacer kid meant he was used to death, to an extent, already getting some training for self-defense and shooting lessons.  

Someone like her?  A good life with a rich family?  

“Something tells me you never saw it that way,” she continued.

“Why?  Because of my feelings for Kaidan?  Or because of what I’ve become with my Alliance career?” Regis asked.  He didn’t want to be accusatory, but quite frankly, he wanted to know where she was going with that.

If she says Torfan, he might just get up and leave.

“No.  I could see it in you when you Stasised him.  You claimed the power shift was accidental, but was it really?  I remember you talking all the time about your uncle who should’ve been the one training you, and that Vyrnnus will get his one day,” she admitted carefully.

Damn.  He had to give her props for that, but he hated her tone, as if she was trying to trap him into admitting something.  

Regis took a few bites of his chicken before pushing the plate away, washing it down with a bit of lemonade.  “It was accidental. I did want to Stasis the son of a bitch.  But sometimes, biotics can be just as much about intent as it is about the mnemonic.”

He made sure her gaze was locked onto his. “The only thing I would change would be to trade places with Kaidan.”

She looked away. “How could you… never mind.  It… messed him up, didn't it.”

“That's an understatement if I've ever heard one,” Regis scoffed. “But I'm not really the one you should be saying this to. I wasn't shunned, he was.  And all of you were blind to what he did to save us all.”

But Kaidan forgave her and them a long time ago.  Regis wanted him to forget about them, they were nothing.  Yet, that wasn’t Kaidan.

“You grew up knowing biotics.  None of us did!  And we saw what we could do if we were pushed too far, what we could do to each other.  He broke my arm, and the next thing I knew, he was dead!  Was killing him really the answer?”

Yes, it was, he wanted to yell. 

“I don't blame you for feeling that way, but a strong support from all the students who suffered under his torture would've gone a long way.  Thankfully, he was cleared anyway, as was I,” Regis replied, choosing not to rise to the bait. “That kick he managed is nothing compared to what we can do.  Being scared of what we can do is probably what they wanted anyway. As far as I know, Kaidan and I were some of the only L2s that actually went somewhere in the Alliance.”

Zaeed whistled, getting their attention.  He held up his omnitool. “He’s about to be here, coming up from the elevator.”

Rahna settled back down in her seat.  “I kept in contact with some.  You're right, most of us found ways to get rid of our ‘gift.’ You, however, can't blame us for how we felt.  I was a scared teenager in immense pain, and–”  She stopped, her gaze focusing on something behind him.

Regis opened his mouth to reply, but Kaidan cleared his throat behind them. Ah, right. How much did he hear?

He sat down in the seat between Zaeed and Rahna. 

“Looks like you've been having a productive conversation without me,” he said diplomatically, nodding at Rahna. “Good to see you. You look well.”

Regis could tell Kaidan was keeping his voice carefully steady, carefully flat.  Not a good sign. 

“You do too,” she said, her voice taking on a similar tone. “Married and Alliance life seems to be treating you well.”

“That it has,” he said, breaking out into a genuine smile.  It was quickly lost.  “I could tell things were a bit tense when I arrived.”

“It's not easy talking about BAaT,” she began. 

“No shit,” Regis interjected.  Kaidan gave him a sharp look. 

“What, I'm not wrong!” Regis said, defending himself. 

“No, but you don't have to be an ass about it,” Kaidan said with a sigh. 

Regis rolled his eyes but stayed silent anyway. 

The waiter came back by. “Ah, your third has come!  Would you like for me to put your usual in?”

“Might as well,” Kaidan said. “Unless you have any objections?  Rahna, would you like anything?”

Still dancing around the main topic. 

“No, I’ve eaten already.  Thanks anyway,” she said.  

“Our usual, then,” Kaidan said. “And could you give us some privacy?”

“Of course.  Just signal for me if you need anything.  I’ll return with your food,” they said before walking off, returning a moment later to give Kaidan a pint of beer. 

Kaidan took a long, slow sip of his drink before breaking the silence.  “Why exactly did you want to talk to me, Rahna?  To apologize?”

“Well–yes,” she started to say.  “I never knew what happened to you, other than hearing that BAaT was shut down.  And then years later you appear in the news, and kept appearing…”

“I forgave you a long time ago,” Kaidan said.  “And honestly?  I don’t want to hear it.  It’s long been in the past.  We were kids.”

“You did?” She looked at Regis, who decided to say nothing.  He knew that Kaidan did.  He could’ve told her and sent her on her merry little way, but he couldn’t help being curious about what she wanted to say to Kaidan after all these years.

Hell, even Regis couldn’t really blame everyone for their reactions, but that didn’t mean he wanted to invite anyone over for drinks and reminiscing anytime soon.  It was a betrayal, no matter how anyone framed it.  “But–”

“But what?” Regis asked.  “You heard him.  It’s done.  And I made sure he could work through it, as the only kid there who stood with him.”

“Regis…” Kaidan started, giving him a warning look.

“What?  It’s true.  I’m not the only reason why you were able to be comfortable as a biotic again, but I sure as hell helped,” Regis said, not backing down.

Rahna shook her head, standing up.  “I don’t even know why I bothered with your goddamn guard dog here.  It was good seeing you, Kaidan, and I’m glad life has treated you well.  Regis?  Thank you for your cybernetics program, but honestly, I shouldn’t have expected anything different out of you.”  She gave Zaeed a nod, who inclined his head in response.  Regis couldn’t even tell what he was thinking right now.

“Rahna, wait,” Kaidan said, standing up.  

“I’ll go,” Regis said, standing up and tossing his napkin on the table.  “Tell Alyx to pack my food for to-go.  I’ll be in the Spectre range if you need me.”

This is purely between Kaidan and Rahna.  He doesn’t need to be there, especially when his opinions haven’t changed after all these years.

Kaidan risked punishment after he broke free of his guards to try and clear the air, to talk to her before he was sent away.  Hell, he remembered Kaidan recalling the guards drawing their weapons when he flared out, trying to get one last moment with her, to explain himself and get what to understand. 

And she turned away with only a goodbye.

Regis walked off without a second glance back, hearing Kaidan call his name as he rounded the corner to the elevators.  He pressed the call button and stopped to put his earbuds in when he saw Zaeed walking towards him with his jacket slung over his shoulder.

“Did Kaidan send you after me?” Regis asked, crossing his arms.

“No, I left because their conversation is none of my goddamn business.”

Fair enough.  It had to be awkward for him. 

“Are you going to say it's mine?”

He shrugged.  “I know what you went through, but is she really the bad guy here?”

The elevator doors opened.  They stepped inside, Zaeed moving to hold his hand.  Regis couldn’t help but smile.

Regis inputted their destination.  “No, but she represents everything that caused Kaidan to shrink into himself.  He was confident, open with his biotics.  Directly after?  Well, everyone was terrified.  But Rahna?  She turned away from him after he tried to fight to talk to her one last time.” Zaeed nodded.  “Kaidan told me everything.”

“I know.”

“And you also told me everything.”

The doors opened and they stepped outside, making their way to the Spectre office tucked away in the embassies.  “What are you trying to say?”

“Both of you are too damn biased when it comes to her.  His crush on her has long since fizzled out, but he still cares for her.  Your opinions on her haven’t changed one bit.”

“Neither has hers on me,” he scoffed.  “We were never that civil with each other, although we tried to be for appearances.  Also to save ourselves from punishment.  Can’t be seen fighting.”

Zaeed grumbled out a curse.  “The more I hear about what you went through, the happier I am he is rotting somewhere.”

“You know I’ll drink to that.”

As they walked up the stairs, they noticed a familiar face about to enter the offices.  Ashley was waving her credentials to the door, clothed in a comfy techwear inspired outfit.  “What the hell are you two doing here?” she asked, keeping the door open for them.

Regis nodded at her in thanks, barely listening to the VI announce their Spectre statuses and Zaeed’s associate status.  “Long story.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” she replied, rolling her eyes.  “Thought the three of you were supposed to be on some hot date.  What happened?  Clearly not a fight, but something… I don’t know… awkward?”

She knows them too damn well.

“Right on the money, Ash,” Zaeed replied, sitting down in front of the range.  “How much do you know about BAaT?”

She made a face.  “Oh no.  What happened?  I don’t know like, everything, but I know how it shut down.”

“Then you know enough,” Regis sighed.  “Did Kaidan ever mention someone named Rahna to you?”

She nodded.  “Break during N training.  Yeah, he talked a bit about BAaT and you and what he did in the end to protect her.  Was a bit tight lipped about her, though.  All I was able to get out of him was that they stopped talking after what happened.”

Regis pulled a face.  “Well, that’s one way to put it.”

He started to tell his version of the story, but Zaeed cut him off.  “No, you’re too goddamn biased.”

“And you aren’t?” Regis asked.  Ashley looked between them and shook her head.

“Least biased about her,” Zaeed said, putting his hand over Regis’s mouth.  Ashley laughed. He licked it and when Zaeed didn’t budge, he sighed and rolled his eyes.

Zaeed told her what was, admittedly, a nicer version of what Regis would’ve described, removing his hand from his mouth in the middle of the story.

“Yeah, can hold one hell of a grudge.  You were jealous,” Ashley said, giving him an unimpressed look.  “Not that I’m surprised, but even after all this time?  You got the man–you got two men–and you’re still trying to pick a fight with her?”

“It’s not about what Kaidan felt for her.  It’s about what she represents,” Regis said.  “Kaidan struggled to see himself as a biotic, as someone who was even human.  I wasn’t scared of him, but I sure as hell was scared for him after seeing the rest of our class stepping away from him after what he did.  Rahna said he was Mr. Popular, but hell, she was the queen.  And I get why.  She was nice, always willing to lend an ear, knowing what to say… but that day, I saw nothing but betrayal.  We were saved from our goddamn torturer, and yet suddenly, he wasn't the only monster in the room.”

Ashley sat down next to him.  “God… I knew it was bad, but even from your perspective… they must’ve grilled the both of you.”

“I got off easy compared to him,” Regis said quietly.  “Thankfully, the higher ups saw it in a similar way, as did the turian courts, but the damage was already done.  I made sure we stayed in contact, and I was there for him when I could be in-between my studies and his own online programs.” Regis closed his eyes.  “I remember something he said one night.  We were still young, not even enlisted yet…”

Kaidan brought him to their apple tree.  A large one up on a hill, all by its lonesome away from the rest of the orchard.  It was special, one of the first on the property.  Or something.  It seemed to have a lot of stories. Either way, it was Regis’s favorite.  Away from prying eyes.  An inspiration for the tattoo of the tree on his right arm, combined with Norse imagery to be his own yggdrasil.     They kissed each other, soft and sweetly on a warm blanket, underneath the starry sky.  In between kisses and loving words, Kaidan said something to him that nearly broke his heart, the way his voice rasped and cracked.  “Regis, you make me feel human.” “I shouldn’t have to.  You are human, every glowing bit of you.” “Yes, yes, I know… how many times have we had this discussion?” “Far too many.  But if me being here with you helps…. I don't plan on leaving anytime soon.” Kaidan kissed him again, this time with more heat and passion behind it.  Regis returned it with the same intensity, pulling him in close to press up against him. “Kaidan, I love you,” he said, breathing out those special words for the first time against his lips.  “I love you, too, Regis,” he replied. And they enjoyed their night together underneath the stars.

Regis left that last bit out when recounting the story–for Ash’s sake, Zaeed has already experienced the ‘Alenko Tradition’ a few times.  “That’s why I can’t simply bring myself to forgive and forget.  Or hell, to forgive and not forget.  Whatever.”

“I guess I get it,” Ashley said, “even if I do think you should’ve at least tried to be nice about it.  But then, I remember who I’m talking to…”  

Regis shrugged.  “I tried, I honestly did.  But then she looked at me when Kaidan said he forgave her a long time ago and  I couldn’t help it.”

“Sometimes it is best to just walk away,” she sighed.  “Well, want to vent your frustrations against a couple of targets and prototypes?” She pointed behind her to the range, and Regis was glad to finally stop talking about goddamn BAaT.

“That’s why we’re here,” Zaeed grinned.  “Lead the way, Ash.  I’m looking forward to seeing what secret shit is back there this quarter.”

– –

They weren’t in the range long, testing out some new HK guns and modifications.  Regis was quite impressed with their new pistol line, but its handling still paled in comparison to his faithful Eagle line.

Either way, it was fun shooting the shit with Zaeed and Ashley, with some friendly competition thrown in for good measure.  Regis still reigned supreme with snipers, but he could concede to their handling with other weapons.

To this day he still holds some of the best marksman records at the Villa.

In between rounds, his omnitool pinged.  He removed the heat sink from the pistol and placed it on the bench, checking his omnitool with a raised eyebrow when he saw who it was from.

KA: She’s gone, if you want to come back and heat up your food when you get home. RS: We’re at the range.  Ran into Ash.  Did… everything go well? KA: Come home and find out.

A moment later, Regis saw his monitoring logs pop up with a message.  

Kaidan Alenko logged out of the server.

Zaeed shook his head and started to place the Spectre modified Harrier back on the rack.  

“That’s… not a good sign from either of you,” Ashley observed.  “Need me to come with for backup?”

Regis damn near took her up on the offer because for once he couldn’t read Kaidan through text.  “No, this is my shit and I’ll deal with it.”

“I think you’re making this out to be far goddamn worse than it actually is.  I doubt he’s mad, just annoyed,” Zaeed said, crossing his arms.  

“Which is arguably worse,” Regis sighed, running a hand through his hair.  “I wish I never told Alyx to bring her over.”

“No, you don’t,” Zaeed rolled his eyes.  “You enjoyed finally being able to tell her how you feel.  You just don’t like that Kaidan was nice about it.”

Regis stayed silent, which was answer enough by the way Ashley laughed at him.  “Don’t keep your man waiting.  We can do this together another time.”

“Next time, with all three of us,” Regis said, giving her a hug.  She returned it tightly before waiving them off.

The trip back to the elevators and later to a rapid transit terminal went fast enough, but now in a bit of a haste to see Kaidan and figure out what had happened during their conversation.

Logging out was deliberate.  They typically stay idle most of the time, never logging out unless they need to go dark for a mission. 

Regis wasn’t sure what to make of it.  And neither did Zaeed, by the way he kept glancing over to him in the skycar.  Caught in the middle of something that he was never a part of.  He kept a reassuring grip on Regis’s hand, holding it tight between them.  

Once they exited the skycar on the Strip, they made quick work getting up to the apartment, not wanting to delay any further.  

Regis unlocked the door and saw Kaidan inside, on the couch next to the fireplace, curled up the knitted red, blue, and yellow blanket Hannah got for them as part of her wedding gift.

He knew the red and blue version that Adrian gave to them before they enlisted was secretly from her, but never said anything.  That next gift was her way of knowing that he knew.

Things have changed some since he was an angry teenager who just wanted more freedom.

Regis took a moment to kneel down and take off his boots before joining him on the couch.  Kaidan smiled at them and grabbed the blanket, motioning for them to join him.

Maybe things were going to be better than Regis had thought. Maybe him logging out was the signal that meant he wanted some comfort from them as soon as possible.

Regis curled up next to Kaidan, with Zaeed joining them a moment later, making sure the blanket was all settled over them as they cuddled up on their large, comfy couch.  Regis noticed a mug full of something steaming and hot.  He inhaled and smelled a hint of chocolate and sugar.

“Did you two have fun with Ash?” he asked, breaking the silence.  “Heard we got a new shipment of toys to try out.”

Regis wasn’t going to comment on the obvious distraction from the main issue at hand.

“It did, and we did try out some new shit.  Regis still thinks his damn Eagle is the best thing on the market, which is a fucking lie if I ever heard one,” Zaeed said, pressing a kiss on the back of Regis’s neck where his old biotic squad symbol tattoo lied.  

Regis smiled, knowing the man behind him couldn’t see it.  “You just don’t have any damn taste.”

“Look at who is sitting on this goddamn couch with me and ask me that again,” he replied, throwing an arm around him.

Kaidan moved to lean against Regis’s chest, which prompted him to lean into Zaeed’s.  “You won’t be winning that argument, love,” he chuckled.  “We’ll need to meet up with her and get a good performance review to… HK, right?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Regis hummed.  He kissed the back of Kaidan’s head.  “What’s going on in that head of yours?  I’m sorry for bailing on you.”

“I hear a ‘but,’” Kaidan said, but it was good-naturedly.  “No, you’re not.  And that’s perfectly fine.”

“But what isn’t fine?” Regis asked.  “What’s going on?” he repeated once more.

Kaidna let out a long, slow sigh.  “We had a conversation.  Caught up with her and how she’s doing.  Kept dodging her insistence there was something she needed to apologize for.  At this time?  Really didn’t fucking matter to me.  I worked through it, it's all in the past.  She tried to get a snide word in or two about you, which well, I expected that.  I’m sure you did the same to her, only fair.”  Zaeed snorted at that.  Regis didn’t deny his observation.  Kaidan turned a bit so he could look at Regis.  “No, it went fine.  Just… throughout that conversation, I wondered if BAaT had weighed far heavier on her than it did for you and me, even after what we did.”

It took him a few years to wear him down and change the language to ‘we’ and not just ‘I’ when it came to their role in taking down Vyrnnus.   Because Regis was involved.  That Stasis changed everything.  Gave Kaidan the perfect shot.

How could he ever say it was only him?

“I’m sure it did,” Regis said.  “Her arm was broken badly by our abuser.  Of course it changed her in ways that we can’t ever relate to.”

“That’s probably one of the nicest things you’ll say about her,” Zaeed murmured, just loud enough for the both of them to hear.  Kaidan sent him a jolt of dark energy in response, enough to sting like a pinch.

“Anyway,” Regis turned to give Zaeed a look.  “None of us came out of Jump Zero the same way we were when we came in.  She had a few things to contend with…”

“Vyrnnus, me, and what we went through at BAaT,” Kaidan finished for him.  “I think a part of her wanted to apologize probably more for her sake than mine.  I get it, but I worked through it.  And she needed to understand that.”

“Would you have preferred if I told her that right from the beginning?” Regis asked.

She probably wouldn’t have believed him anyway, but at least his heart would’ve been in the “right place.”  

Kaidan came to the same conclusion.  “Nah.  I get the impression she would’ve thought you were trying to get her to go away.  Why did you say yes anyway?”

Regis shrugged.  “Curiosity.  Wanted to see how she was doing, but also, I couldn’t help myself.  Sorry.”

“You are not sorry,” Kaidan gave him an unimpressed look, but that was about usual with them, with a smile tugging at his lips.  He shook his head.  “She offered her link, but I didn’t accept it.  Just said if she needed anything concerning biotics to contact you or me through our respective programs.”

“How did she take that?” Zaeed asked. 

“Fine,” Kaidan replied.  “She did spend a lot of time being so surprised about my relationship.  She got the Regis part–” Regis snorted at that.  “--but not so much you.  I told her I fell in love with two incredible men at two points in my life and I couldn’t see life any different.”

Zaeed leaned over Regis to peck Kaidan on the lips.  “You’re too goddamn sweet.”

“Well, wasn’t it more like I fell in love with two incredibly hot, powerful men and dragged you along with my decisions?” Regis added.

To be fair, it didn’t take long for Regis to explain to Kaidan the feelings he felt for Zaeed, and once he was done, Kaidan told him point blank that he found him attractive too.  And later that evening… Regis was in bed with Zaeed.

Good times.

“Doesn’t matter how it started.  Only thing that matters is how it ended up in the end,” Kaidan said with a grin, moving to kiss Regis after Zaeed settled back down beside him.  “I am glad I was able to talk to her, if only for my younger self’s sake,” Kaidan continued, fixing the blanket over them.  “Good thing my meeting didn’t go over as much as I thought it would.”

“What was it about anyway?  Considering you said it couldn’t be a goddamn email, it must’ve been a little important.”

“More stuff about our return to Arcturus and what that means for staffing, the program… all that boring shit as you like to call it,” he replied.  “Nothing crazy, just part of the routine.”

“Already planning the curriculum you want me to teach?” Regis teased.  

“Possibly.  Might keep you on as an adjunct.  I don’t think you can tolerate dealing with kids all day.”

“Eh, I can always split my time between the Villa and the Alenko Academy since we’ll be in Sol,” Regis mused.  “Hell, I might enjoy working with kids.  Dealing with N recruits is basically the same thing!”

“And where do I fit into this?” Zaeed asked with a chuckle.  

“You loved the Villa when we visited.  Hell, they’ll be happy to have someone who can help recreate training sims with crazy scenarios,” Regis said.  “Or you can be our loving husband.  Whichever suits you best.”

“I’ll think about it,” he murmured.  “Peace sure is nice.”

“Yeah,” Regis said, sprawling out between his husbands.  “It sure is.”

Later that evening, Miranda sent him a link to a glowing review of their program, made by an anonymous RA.

This program has given me the opportunity to live my life the way I want to. I encourage anyone who needs a refit within the L2 generation to look into getting a work-up done to see what will work best for you. While I personally chose to remove my L2 and replace it with something that will give me as close to a biotic-free life as possible, that's not the only option for us. I could've gotten a better model that will help me fine-tune my biotics with fewer advers eeffects. Along with their endorsement by the Alenko Academy, I see no reason to not use their services as a human biotic of any generation. Shepard, Lawson, T'Lara, and the rest of their team are gifts to our community, and I hope they can change the lives of many others.

She followed the request with a call.

"Happen to know who this is from?" she asked in greeting.

"I might," Regis replied, watching Kaidan and Zaeed move around in the kitchen, heating up their leftovers and putting together some frozen cookie dough Regis had made a couple of nights prior. "Old classmate of ours from BAaT."

"We've had a few BAaT participates come in, haven't we? But it's been months. Why now, other than to give a longer term view... it just got me curious."

"Now that's going to be a long story in of itself," Regis admitted. "Take a rain check on that?"

She laughed. "Sure, Regis. You don't have to tell me all the details about BAaT. Enjoy your evening."

"You too, Miranda. Say hi to Ashley for me."

"Will do. She's definitely ready to kick all your asses in the range."

"I look forward to it. Why don't you join us for a round? Maybe we can have a big Armax meetup while we're still on the Citadel."

"Sounds great! I won't take up any more of your time."

She ended the call, and Regis got up to surprise his husbands and their cooking, making sure they don't mess up his favorite cookie dough recipe.

Maybe things are okay, if she left that kind of review. He wondered for a moment what Kaidan may have said to prompt that, but cast that thought out quickly.

BAaT and nearly everything about it is best left in the past.

Except for the gift it gave in the form of Kaidan.

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (190): Wed 21st Sep 2022

On Twitter this afternoon the New Scientist page Tweeted out that there 20 quintillion ants currently walking the Earth. I Tweeted back asking them what would be the heaviest thing that they could all lift up if they worked together and someone on Twitter commented "Your mother". I looked at the guy's page and saw that he had 11 followers and so I'm ashamed to say I sank down to his level and replied "True. She's probably heavier than all your followers combined". Tuned into tonight's Hollyoaks. This Verity and Shaq shit feels so damn pointless. They're obviously going to give us some convoluted bullshit reason as to why she decides to forgive him and then they'll get back together so they might as well just have her decide to forgive him after flipping a coin. A bit of comic relief running though the show was that Tony had ordered too many coconuts for the coconut shy. I know the Silas story is going to end with an explosion (& a death or two) but if it were up to me it would end with Silas being lured into the middle of the village (Like the ending of Halloween Kills) & being pelted to death & buried under a mountain of 100 coconuts. The main story of todays episode was Victor forcing Sid to sell his secret stash of drugs so he could use the money to get the fuck out of Hollyoaks. Victor said that if he didn't get him his money he would kill Juliet. The episode ended with Victor and Sid fighting over his gun and Victor accidentally being shot to death. I thought that a better ending for that episode would be if just after the end credits we saw the cop that Victor punched in the stomach just sneakily walk up to the corpse and kick it in the knob. The dumbest part of the episode was Yaz uploading an episode of her podcast which recapped the crimes Silas committed in the past and addressed the rumours he was still around. The McQueens ordered Yaz to take the episode down incase Silas heard it and started to make alternative plans to get the McQueens. OK...let me get this straight: This plot is based on an old man (who probably doesn't know what a podcast is) regularly searching iTunes & Spotify for true crime podcasts about HIM?! This was ridiculous but I have to say if the show released an in-universe podcast hosted by Yaz going over the various crimes that have happened in the village I would 100% listen to it. Before bed I watched the zombie film Let Sleeping Corpses Lie. Man what a revelation this film was for me. For the longest time I've thought that because I've seen so many horror films I was immune to their effects and couldn't be scared by them, that was before I watched Let Sleeping Corpses Lie. I've known about this film for a while as it was featured in Mark Gatiss's Horror Europa programme and I can remember the clip featured on that show was the scene where Guthrie is first scene and that freaked me the Hell out so maybe I resisted it for that reason. Thankfully I eventually ended up checking this film out as the plot and cast are great and there are scares aplenty. It's weird how a horror film with a huge budget with impressive special effects can't scare me at all but a film with practically no budget can scare me with the sound of drums and the heavy breathing. Every time I heard this effect I tensed up a little as I was on edge for what was coming next. As scary as the shot of Guthrie in the cemetery is, this is just an appetizer for the much creepier main course later in the film. The scene where George and Edna are trapped in the tiny basement when Guthrie shows back up was terrifying as fuck. This is the first time in a long time I have felt like I was with the characters in the movie and wanted to get the fuck out of that basement. I had to resistthe urge to fast forward through this scene which is something I thought I'd never do again. This movie is a fine example of the fact that sometimes less can be more. The cause of the zombie outbreak being to do with pollution is an interesting take and that's all it ever comes across as, an interesting idea and it never seems like director Jorge Grau is using this movie to get preachy about the dangers of pollution. This is the first time I've seen a zombie film where a zombie can bring another dead person back as a zombie which I thought was really cool and it happens during the aforementioned basement scene which made it even scarier (and one of the corpses Guthrie reanimates looks like Christopher Lloyd and the other one looks like the dead woman in the bathtub from The Shining).  I also like the fact that they find a clever way of working a subplot into the mix with the gruff, hippie-hating Inspector who suspects that George and Edna are behind the mysterious murders. So not only do our heroes have to figure out what the fuck is going on but they have to do so while evading the law so it feels like double jeopardy. I love the way they shoot the beautiful British countryside. To me these rural areas are perfect for a low budget horror movies because they're always nice and quiet but sometimes there's a feeling that there could be something sinister lurking nearby. The director also makes it a point to experiment with the camera a little bit by giving us a few interesting shots including many POV shots from the zombie's perspective and a shot directly facing the zombie ramming the wooden post into the camera like it's the church door. All of these extra little details the director did in order to assure the audience he did his best to make it as entertaining as possible in a unique fashion and to demonstrate that he isn’t just painting by numbers don't go unappreciated. The climax of the movie where chaos ensues at the hospital is fucking tremendous and I'm sure Danny Boyle must have thought so too because the end sequence in 28 Days Later is like this hospital scene on coke. My faourite part is the bit where Martin's dead body is being taken into the hospital and we see him wakes up and that he has a cheeky grin on his face. He actually waits until the other officer leaves and then attacks. This is the first time in a zombie movie I've seen a zombie bide it's time rather than just sit up and go crazy. As the movie was winding down I was starting to think that I might have just sat through the perfect zombie movie...then the ending...urgh. The ending makes literally no fucking sense. How did the zombified George know where to find the Inspector? How did he know he had booked this particular hotel? How the fuck did he get into the Inspectors room without being seen? How long was he in there and what did he do while he waited for the Inspector to come back home? Did he just inwardly sing the Nations of the World song from Animaniacs to himself over and over again like I do to pass the time when I'm waiting for the bus? What would he have done if a maid had come in before the Inspector? He doesn't eat the Inspector after he kills him so he was literally only concerned with killing this one person and no-one else but if a maid had come in and he let her go she would have phoned the police and dozens of them would have arrived and blown his plan so he would have had to kill her to make sure this didn't happen. My God I love this film but THIS ENDING IS ABSOLUTELY GOD DAMN STUPID......But, who the fuck cares? The rest of the film is so well shot, so imaginative and so scary that I'm willing to overlook how monumentally stupid the ending is (and even if it is stupid it's still a feel good ending and it's probably the first time that I've felt happy for a zombie). It just goes to show that you should never fall into the trap of thinking that a particular genre of movies won't have it's desired effect on you any more as it might just be the case that you haven't found the right one yet. Favourite quotes:

Inspector: Justice has been a bit slow in these parts with all this permissive rot going on. Maybe people learned a thing or two from my example here

The Inspector: I wish the dead could come back to life, you bastard, so then I could kill you again.

The Inspector: You're all the same, the lot of you, with your long hair and faggot clothes. Drugs, sex, every sort of filth! And you hate the police. Don't you? George: You make it easy.

George: [to The Inspector] Hail Hitler!

[3monthsineurope]

May 25, 2022

Happy 63rd birthday, Dad!

Dad and Haley woke up early again, but this time they walked to the hotel lobby and had some coffee and chatted while Mom and I slept a little longer. Around 9, Mom and I woke up and called Dad and Haley back. We all got ready for brunch at a place Haley had heard of, Wilma and Freida’s Cafe. We all gave Dad his birthday presents and he was really happy! Haley gave him a shirt from the farmers market near her apartment and I gave Dad a small replica statue of Edgar Martinez that I got at the Mariner’s game in April. Mom had gotten Dad a Tommy Bahamas outfit! A really nice blue patterned button down shirt, and some blue shorts to go with it. He was so surprised! The whole trip he had been mentioning that this was the year that he was going to buy himself a Tommy Bahamas shirt, little did he know, that Mom had already got him one! He was so surprised and really happy, it really warmed my heart!

After giving our gifts and getting ready for the day, we took an Uber to the shopping area. It was in the same area as the Tommy Bahamas restaurant that we went to the night before. We had about a ten minute wait for a table, but that was fine! Guy Fieri from Diners, Drive Ins, and Dives, had been to this place before! It was pretty cute! We all got our own meals, and then we shared a churro waffle. It was so tasty! Dad even got a free birthday brownie! The server was a nice older man and everyone was just so kind, it was a really nice meal!

After breakfast we checked out the Tommy Bahamas store for a bit. Dad don’t want to get another, since Mom had already taken care of that, but it was still fun to look around. Next on the birthday agenda was pool time! The four of us lathered up on sunscreen and headed down to the pool. It was a beautiful, hot and sunny day! We hung around the pool for a while, and then we heard back from the mechanic that Haley’s car was fixed and ready! Originally, we had wanted to do a scenic tramway ride, just outside of Palm Springs, but when we looked into it, we realized that it was in another mountain pass, and we didn’t want to put Haley’s car through that, just after getting it fixed. So we cancelled those plans and decided to just check out Palm Springs and do dinner there.

So around four, we left the pool and got ready for dinner and exploring Palm Springs! We took one last Uber ride to Haley’s car and got to pick it up. The workers were so nice, I even wrote them a nice Yelp review! It cost over $800 to get her car fixed, damn! Plus the $300 for a tow truck! Yikes! But, we were just all so thankful that her car was in working order, so Haley would be able to get back to LA the next day.

We drove to Palm Springs and walked around the strip for a while. We explored some of the shops and ended up getting some shirts or sweatshirts. I got a shift for Ingvar and some postcards and that was good for me. Palm Spring was actually pretty different than Palm Desert! Palm Springs seemed definitely more run down, while Palm Desert was more upscale and fancier, it felt like.

Haley had made reservations for an Italian place for Dad’s birthday, called Sammy G’s Tuscan Grill. Our reservations were for 7:30, so that’s when we headed in. We all shared a charcuterie board as an appetizer and I had the lasagna. The food was tasty but unfortunately Dad wasn’t feeling to well. We were seated outside and I think Dad was just overheated from the day—it was 100 degrees when we left for dinner! We enjoyed the dinner and service but it was a bummer Dad wasn’t feeling his best. We actually didn’t even get dessert, we just thought it would be best to get Dad to the hotel and feel better. The restaurant did give us some after dinner drinks, which they said weren’t alcoholic but they definitely were, so Haley and I had those.

After dinner, we got back in Haley’s car and headed back to Palm Desert. Dad started feeling better with the air condition in the car on. We ended the night with Dad heading to bed, and Haley, Mom, and I staying up for a bit. I showered and Haley Dutch braided my hair so I would have curly hair for the next day. It was a great day celebrating Dad’s birthday! :]