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katbrando · 4 months

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▹NSFW (minors dni) • 5.1k • diego brando x afab!reader ▹content: modern au, diego is a cheater AND a bottom, pegging, hate sex, slapping, choking, rimming, face-sitting, degradation, spit (lots of spit) ▹synopsis: diego and you have a pretty toxic relationship to begin with, but after you find evidence of him cheating on you while out of town, you decide to put him in his place. [ read on ao3 instead ]

The silence that followed your boyfriend’s phone being gently placed atop the kitchen counter was thick, maybe rivaled only by the sheer bulk of rage that was currently settled on your tense shoulders. Atmospheres like this certainly weren’t uncommon between the two of you, usually spiraling into screaming matches that ended in unresolved tension eventually fizzling out as if nothing had gone wrong at all. In most of these circumstances, it was both of you at fault; differences in opinion and outlook tended to blow up into something far more dramatic than necessary, but that was inevitable when you were dating Diego Brando.

“Darling –” he’d started, of course, by trying to lighten the situation with a term of endearment associated with the numerous romantic dinners he’d taken you on as apology for previous grievances, but you’d stopped him dead in his tracks with a single finger pointed just inches away from his broad nose.

“Do not.” The same finger quickly moved to press directly in the center of his phone, reawakening the screen to show the current source of this particular confrontation, a message from a random number with obvious sexual intention. “Who the hell is texting you right now?”

This, of course, was a rhetorical question. The answer to that question was made clear to you just last night when the exact woman in question had contacted you personally. “Your man is cheating on you.” A single Instagram DM that would’ve otherwise seemed ludacris, but paired with a damning photo of Diego himself laying amongst someone else’s bed sheets. It was hard to know where to place your anger, but after realizing the message wasn’t meant to taunt, moreso to inform and warn, you’d understood what needed to be done.

“I don’t know, love,” Diego lied through his teeth, his sharp canines poking out as he plastered a smile on his face, “probably a wrong number or something.”

In most cases this would be an understandable possibility. Not only was Diego an exceptionally beautiful man, but his career as a jockey made him well-known within a specific sphere of people. And these people were committed, often cult-like in their actions. Learning to deal with jealousy and uncertainty was part of the package when you signed up to date such an established athlete. Was it worth it? That, you’d been struggling to answer as of late.

Your relationship with Diego certainly wasn’t perfect, it hadn’t been for a while, but the idea of him cheating still seemed inconceivable. As a partner, Diego was ruthless in his loyalty, though it was not lost on you that he’d had a past of sleeping around and taking advantage of his good looks. You’d thought, maybe, that was all in the past, but lately with his uptick in popularity it seemed he was spiraling back into old habits, feeling a bit too untouchable.

“I’m not a dumbass, Diego,” you countered, a laugh bubbling up in your throat as if to try and quell the anger, “so you can stop treating me like one and tell me why the hell some random person is sexting you.”

“I can’t control the fact that people want to share their fantasies with me.” Diego folds his arms across his chest and shrugs, letting out a chuckle of his own that only furthers a boiling point for you. “If my number was leaked again, I’ll get a new one, it’s no problem.”

“You and I both know that’s not what happened here. Get real, or I’ll kick your ass to the curb.”

Something in your tone must have struck something in him, because at those stern words Diego seemed to visibly stiffen. Was that fear in his eyes?

The sound of your own breath became unbearably loud as you watched your boyfriend try to find words, his pillowy lips parted but offering up nothing. Absolutely pathetic.

“Are you cheating on me?”

Even if Diego was a good liar, you’d be able to see through him easier than most others could. And the way his eyes darted to the side told you everything you needed to know before he could even say anything.

“Well, clearly you’ve already made up your mind as far as the answer to that question, so why even bother answering?” He grumbled, his little pout making it hard for you to decide if you’d rather slap him across the face or kiss him so hard you both forget this entire situation.

“I’m taking that as a yes.” You took his phone in your hand and tried to decide what to do with it, finally resolving to chuck it at the floor, letting it land with a thump on his foot. “I have proof either way so you’d be an idiot to try and argue with me.”

Diego’s stare immediately dropped to the floor, his fingers drumming nervously across the surface of his bicep as he looked at his phone. It beeped again, another notification flashing across the screen, but he didn’t pick it up.

“So is that it, then?” He finally murmured after several seconds of silence. “Are you going to scold me? Kick me out?”

“Are you not going to apologize?” You scoffed, taking a couple steps closer to him, tone threatening. “You’re a real piece of work, Brando.”

“Love, I wouldn’t expect you to understand the difficulty that comes with being in the spotlight.” Diego started, and you knew exactly what frustrating turn he was about to take. “If I turned away every single person who approached me, anyone who wanted a piece of me, the media would make me out to be a bloody prick. Do you know how hard it is to maintain a balance of charm and disinterest? When your career depends on it?”

“You are a bloody prick!” You shouted in response, jamming a finger against his chest before shoving at his shoulder. “Since when does your career require you to sleep with random people when you’re in a relationship?”

Visibly trying to recover from the sudden action of being shoved, Diego met your sharp stare again with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. His nostrils flared, and it wasn’t immediately clear if that was a sign of his own rage bubbling up or something more carnal. Either way, he stayed silent, his demeanor practically begging for more.

“Tell me you aren’t happy, then, go ahead.” Your provocation continued as you got closer to him, shoving him with both hands this time. He briefly stumbled back but remained stock still. “I can dump you right now and you can go get your dick wet with whoever the fuck you want, your choice.”

“I don’t want that,” Diego grumbled, narrowing his eyes, “I made a mistake.”

“A mistake!” You echo, laughing again at the absurdity of Diego’s entire reasoning. “Do you understand how pathetic you look right now?”

“Throw me out, then, go ahead. Clearly you’re not willing to have a discussion about this.”

“There’s no discussion to be had, Diego. And throwing you out would be way too easy.” You pause to take a deep breath, your voice lowering significantly. “Maybe I should just beat the shit out of you and teach you a goddamn lesson.”

Diego gulps, his breath noticeably hitches. “Why don’t you, then?”

“Because I know you, I know that’s what you want me to do.”

Diego’s lips quirk up into a smirk, just barely, and that action alone makes your mind up even before he replies in a smarmy voice.

“Then aren’t we both on the same page?”

A slap reverberates through the quaint space of your shared apartment, Diego’s hand immediately coming up to rest against the reddening skin of his cheek. You take in the sight of his eyes blown wide and his mouth parted in shock for mere seconds before you close the distance with a bruising kiss. Nothing about it is gentle, your teeth dig into his lip as a frustrated growl spills into his mouth, and though Diego does his best to assert dominance with his tongue you put up a good fight as both your hands shove at his shoulders again.

With his back now pressed tightly against the wall, Diego attempts to part for breath but he loses the battle as you firmly grip his chin in your hand, forcing him to keep kissing you. You only allow him the luxury of breath once your other hand is grasping a fistfull of his hair, effectively holding his head in place even as you pull away.

“I can’t stand you,” you mutter, squeezing his chin tighter, digging your nails into his skin, “maybe the media should know that you’re a cheating scumbag.”

The fear that flashes in Diego’s eyes at that threat further fuels your rage; of course he’s more concerned about his reputation than the state of your relationship.

“That –” he starts, whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as you spit directly into his mouth.

“Stop talking, for the love of god.” Your demand is punctuated with another tug on his hair as he clearly savors the feeling and taste of your own saliva settling on his tongue.

To the public, Diego Brando is a shining example of pride and dominance in the world of horse racing, even his small stature is something he’s looked up to for. Something you’ve always taken satisfaction in has been your ability to render that side of Diego completely powerless, knowing the exact words and actions that have the capacity to bring him to his knees with his eyes glazed over in desperation. That is the Diego you fell in love with, and he’s the one who’s currently staring at you as if you’re the end-all and be-all.

Cheater or not, you know in your heart that he’ll always come running back to you with his tail tucked between his legs, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t going to make him pay for this mistake. By the time you’re done with him, your name will be the only thing he remembers how to say.

In a series of exasperated movements, Diego allows you to clap a hand across the nape of his neck and shove him towards your bedroom, his hands awkwardly hovering in the air as if even accidentally touching you will earn him capital punishment. “Pants off.” You demand, admittedly a little charmed by the way he stumbles backwards against the bed and begins fumbling with his belt.

As you dig through the nightstand, you can feel Diego’s eyes boring into you. By the time his pants and underwear are thoughtlessly discarded onto the floor you’ve located the tools for further punishment, tossing them onto the mattress just inches away from where Diego is sitting. It’s cute the way he glances over at his favorite dildo before staring at you again with bated breath, but he’ll have to be patient. And patience is something he’s not very good at.

“Do not touch yourself.” You move to stand in front of him, your legs on either side of his as they dangle off the side of the bed. When his hand hovers over your waist you give it a firm swat. “Or me. Understood?”

“Yes, love,” he mutters, breathy and desperate, both his hands falling into his lap.

You refrain from demanding he not use pet names, seeing as the way they roll off his tongue just makes him sound even more pathetic. Anger rushes through you again as you imagine whether or not he used the same words when he cheated. Inevitably, he must have, it’s part of his undeniable charm. You don’t voice this frustration, but you grip his chin in your hand again and give his head a firm shake.

“I won’t hesitate to toss you out the door, butt ass naked, if you don’t obey what I ask of you tonight.” A pause. “Understood?”

“Yes, love,” he repeats in the exact same lust-soaked cadence, eyes already glazed over with desire.

Your eyes search his face for a moment, finding no hint of foul play nor anything but obedience. Only then do you give a single nod and step backwards to continue your demands. “Get on your hands and knees.”

Diego obeys without hesitation, positioning himself so that his ass is fully presented to you and his face is resting against the sheets, turned just enough to continue watching your every move. Even just the sight of you looking at him in such a lewd position is enough to make him groan and shimmy his hips, though just barely. He likely knows that playing it up and egging you on might be pushing it too far.

For a moment you take in the sight of him, both with intent to test his patience and to appreciate the view. Diego has a nice, plump ass, thanks to his career as a jockey. It’s always been one of his greatest assets, and unfortunately he’s keenly aware of that. Currently a pale ivory, dotted sparsely with freckles, but it’ll look much nicer when it’s beet red and sore. Your eyes travel from the cleft of his ass, past his taint, down to where his cock hangs, and when it twitches under your stare you roll your eyes.

“You’re such a slut,” you mumble, stepping closer and dragging one hand along the underside of his right thigh, “you know that?”

Diego doesn’t reply, just keeps staring at you with those hazy cerulean eyes as if he’ll die if you don’t keep talking down to him. Not responding to the question earns him a spank, swift and harsh and underhanded against his right cheek. He immediately hisses in pain and grips the sheets with both hands, the skin of his ass already reddening to match the flush across his face.

“I ask a question, you answer.” You give the same spot a gentle caress before spanking him again.

“I’m a slut,” Diego groans, “I know.”

“That’s why you can’t stand the idea of settling down and being an obedient boyfriend, hm?” Another spank, another grunt spills from Diego’s mouth. “You just had to go fuck someone else, even though I’m right here. You’re so pathetic.”

“She’s nothing like you,” Diego attempts to wiggle himself out of the guilt, “I didn’t even cum.”

You know that’s a lie. Diego’s so easy you can make him climax just by looking at him a certain way, and you know this from experience. As much as you’d love to consider this a special skill that only you’re capable of, you know better than that. Give Diego two minutes with someone willing to suck him off and he’s toast.

“Don’t lie to me, I doubt you even lasted five minutes with her.”

Diego chances a laugh, weak and breathlessly, and you take the opportunity to give him several more spanks, this time alternating cheeks until they’re both turning beet red. Each motion is partnered with a firmly spoken and degrading name, driving him further and further into desperation. His whole body is shaking by the time you take a break, observing the entirety of his backside and noting that he’s already hard.

“If you cum without me telling you it’s okay, I’ll toss you out the window.” It’s a threat you obviously wouldn’t seriously follow through on, but Diego’s expression tells you that he’s taking it completely seriously anyway. You’ve never seen him grasp the bedsheets so tightly.

“Yes, love,” he breathes, thighs twitching, “I’ll be good.”

“You’re nowhere close to being ��good’, not right now,” you scoff, placing a hand on each of his cheeks and digging your nails into the warm, rosy skin, “just do what I say and I’ll think about calling you ‘good’.”

Diego says nothing, but whines desperately at the feeling of you gradually spreading his cheeks, his hole puckering as soon as your eyes hungrily trace over it. You lean closer to let a thick trail of spit fall from your lips, landing directly above his entrance and rolling downwards before your tongue meets it and evenly distributes it across the surface of his sensitive skin. He takes a shaky breath, music to your ears as you languidly lick up from his taint and press a kiss to his hole.

One thing you know for certain is that no other woman gets to do this with him; Diego’s flings are consistent in that he’s always topping, quickly getting off and putting no feeling into what he’s doing, never anything as intimate and drawn out as this. In a sense, yes, putting him down and having your way with him is meant to be a punishment. It’s also serving as a reminder that nobody else in the world knows how to make him feel like this, not like you can.

“Fuck –” Diego whimpers as soon as your tongue delves into his depths, your hands spreading him further and further. You won’t scold him for crying out, not when it makes him sound so feeble.

“You like that?” Your breath fans across his ass as you whisper, and when you lay your tongue flat against his hole again and give him another spank he fights to hold himself up. “You’re filthy.”

“S’good…” his voice is barely audible, his eyes rolling back with every stroke and prod of your tongue.

“Why would you ever fuck anyone else when you can have this?” One of your hands slides across his cheek, pointer finger meeting where your mouth currently hovers and dragging teasingly against his saliva-soaked asshole. “Stupid whore.” You punctuate the insult with another glob of spit landing in the same spot.

“Never again,” Diego weakly insists, pressing his ass further back, aching for more attention, “I only need you.”

That statement, clearly dripping with need, makes you roll your eyes again.

“Y’know, you’re more appealing when you keep your mouth shut.” His hole eagerly takes your finger to the first knuckle, even as you slowly pump it and sink increasingly deeper. His whole body is shaking and his mouth is hanging open, drool coating the sheets where his head rests. Again he offers no response, obediently letting nothing fall from his lips besides hushed sounds of pleasure.

For a while, you fuck him with your fingers, letting your middle join the first and curling to meet the spot you know will drive him further and further to the edge. It’s a true test of his self-control, and honestly you’re impressed by his ability to keep himself from falling apart. Perhaps he has learned his lesson. As soon as he easily takes three of your digits without any hesitation, you decide to move on, but as soon as your fingers leave him he nearly collapses helplessly.

“Please –” he starts as soon as he hears the sound of you removing your bottoms and fiddling with the harness you’d previously pulled from the nightstand. You give his ass another smack as a wordless warning.

As if you’d have any intention of stopping at this point; you’re enjoying yourself far too much for him to ruin it. As soon as you’re fully strapped, you climb atop the mattress to settle behind him.

Further testing his obedience, you forgo the lube and instead drag your strap against the cleft of his ass, letting your spit coat its surface as you tease him. Diego’s hips move to meet the actions, greedy for more as he fights to remain silent. And it’s a fight he’s steadily losing, seeing as he keeps whimpering pleas that aren’t lost on your ears.

Just to play with him, you reach around to blindly locate his cock, cupping his balls and feeling a rush of power when he gives a guttural, shocked moan at the sensation. Eyes blown wide again, he refocuses his stare on you and gives you one of the most pitiful looks you’re ever seen.

“What?” You tease him, flicking his tip and returning both hands to spread his ass. “Go ahead, beg me for it.”

“P-please –” Diego starts, choking on another moan; you can hear his nails puncturing the sheets. “Fuck me, please.”

“Why should I? You think you really deserve that?”

At that, Diego groans with irritation, his entire body heaving as he takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself down. Always so huffy when he doesn’t get his way, but lucky for him he won’t have to wait much longer.

Another thick glob of spit leaves your mouth, landing just above your strap and making gliding between his ass an easier process. For good measure, you give the toy a few strokes to distribute the moisture before pressing its tip against his hole. Diego’s thighs twitch and he holds his breath, waiting for you to fill him up.

“Before I fuck you,” you lean down, much to his dismay, to whisper against the space between his shoulder blades, “I need you to tell me what a filthy cheating slut you are. Tell me what you did.”

Diego fists his hands further into the sheets and grits his teeth. From this angle he can’t quite make direct eye contact, but his eyes still desperately try to look back at you as he finally mutters admittance.

“She gave me a handjob, sucked me off a little, that’s all,” he says, his cheeks further reddening with shame, “nothing more, I promise, love.”

In such a vulnerable and brainless state, it would be unlikely of him to lie. And honestly, you trust him, but it still doesn’t make the entire thing any less enraging.

“Why did you do it?”

“Was lonely,” he whines, shutting his eyes, “while traveling, out of town…”

“You were lonely?” You scoff, palm meeting his ass again, making sure his skin stays just as sensitive and rosy. “That’s a pitiful excuse.”

“You weren’t there, love, if you had been, I –”

“Enough, be quiet.” His excuses are giving you a headache, so you straighten up again and distribute more spit to his asshole until you think he’s ready to take you. Whether he is or not, he’s going to get his ass pounded.

Diego gives a short yelp as soon as you push into him, his hole swallowing up the entire tip and eagerly stretching to accommodate as you sink further, slowly. It’s a beautiful sight, his full, rosy ass being fucked by your strap, his thighs twitching and his upper half shaking at the feeling of being filled by you. You reach forward to brush any hair out of his face and gather it up in your fist, tugging his head to the side so he can make better eye contact with you.

“You look so pathetic right now, Diego,” you coo, your hips finally connecting with his ass as he takes the entirety of your strap with a shaky breath. “Imagine if your fans saw you like this. Face down, drooling and whining, ass being fucked by your girlfriend.”

Diego shivers and offers no reply, he’s too close to falling apart and you’d rather him say nothing anyway. You imagine his cock is probably desperately leaking right now, begging to be touched, but he stays vigilant with his hands still buried in the sheets beneath him.

To his credit, Diego takes it like the champ, letting you fuck him hard and steadily faster, moving his body to meet yours and creating a satisfying smack sound with every snap of your hips. At some point the sight of his blissed-out expression is a bit too much for you to bear, so you lean down and press your lips to his shoulder blade as you continue moving in and out of him. Your kisses are fleeting and short-lived, teeth sinking into the supple skin and biting down hard. Diego gasps as you taste blood on your tongue, he knows you’re going to leave a nasty mark.

When you pull back and see the evidence of your actions, you huff a satisfied laugh and move to a new untouched spot. As you continue marking him, your hand finally gives his cock the attention it so desperately wants, his hips not knowing which way to move between your fist pumping his shaft and your strap still fucking up into him. There’s no way he’s going to last very much longer, based on the whimpers and obscenities that keep breathlessly spilling from his mouth.

“I’m –” he warns, and you immediately cease all contact, sitting up straight again and quickly unsheathing yourself. Diego looks up at you as if you’ve just committed the unholiest of crimes, and to him that must be exactly how it feels.

“Not yet, you’re not.” You fold your arms across your chest and eye him, trying to decide how to make his life even more difficult. “Lay down, on your back.”

Diego, face flushed and body glistening with sweat, gives you a pained look before huffing and obeying, his head hitting the pillow and his hands landing just inches away from his leaking cock. It almost looks like he might cry as he watches you remove your harness and toss it to the foot of the mattress.

“Love, please –” he whines, writhing slightly against the sheets, his body aching for you, for anything you’d be willing to give him.

“You’re going to put that filthy mouth of yours to good use, for once.” He watches closely as you climb atop the bed again, straddling his upper half, your pussy dangerously close to his face.

You prod at his mouth with your thumb and he allows it to enter and press firmly against the surface of his tongue. He sucks on the digit, eyes half-lidded and staring up into yours. You utter a request for him to open, sliding the pad of your thumb across his lower lip before leaning down and spitting directly into his mouth again. Diego immediately moans and without looking you can feel his hips lifting, as if trying to fuck up into the air.

“Taste good?” You ask, giving his cheek a little slap as soon as he groans confirmation. “This’ll taste even better.”

Diego already knows what you’re doing, but he refrains from touching you as you turn around, sitting directly against his face with your palms resting against his chest. You hadn’t realized just how wet you’d gotten from fucking him, and his tongue eagerly laps up against you to further coat your entrance with moisture. His ministrations are less enthusiastic than usual, so you remind him who’s boss with a pinch to his nipple.

“Eat up, Diego, this might be the last time you ever get to do this.” The threat draws a noise from out of his throat, muffled by your body pressed tight against his face. “Ungrateful bitch.”

Diego’s tongue delves deep between your folds, sliding out only to toy with your clit and further wet the surface of your cunt. The sounds he’s making are obscene, one glance down at him and you can see a sheen of spit and juices coating his chin. His breath comes in gasps, almost as if he’s forgetting to breathe amidst the sheer pleasure of eating you out. Your eyes trail down from his chin to the length of his throat, watching his adam’s apple move as his mouth continues working.

As soon as your palm presses against his throat, Diego’s body reacts with brief shock but he doesn’t stop you. Gradually, you curl your hand around its surface, squeezing and immediately sensing the tension in his ministrations. His cock twitches against his abdomen as you continue choking him, you’re almost certain that one touch to his tip would push him overboard.

After a few seconds, Diego chokes against you, his mouth faltering and sputtering as he continues trying to please you despite lack of oxygen. Eventually you take pity on him, releasing his throat and grinding down harder against his face as he gasps for breath. Your own need is starting to overwhelm you, making you lay down against his torso and finally wrap a hand around his cock. Diego’s hips buck upwards as you touch him, and you allow him to fuck into your fist as you keep your mouth open and ready for his inevitable release. The aggression and enthusiasm with which he’s devouring you is driving you to your own precipice, your breath becoming shaky and labored.

Your climaxes are nearly simultaneous, your walls tightening around his tongue as he continues sucking at your clit, his cum spilling out between your lips and coating your chin. He makes no action to move you from off of him, but as soon as the last bit of his cum has been squeezed out onto your tongue you quickly flip around again, leaning down to kiss him with as much force as you did earlier.

The kiss is messy, his tongue lapping up at his own release, letting it mingle amongst your shared spit. When you part for breath you offer him no time to recover before spitting again, making certain that every last bit of his filth is resting in his mouth and not yours.

“Swallow.” You weakly command, only satisfied when Diego does so, opening his mouth to prove he’s obeyed. “Disgusting.”

Boneless, Diego lays there, staring up at you through hazy half-lidded eyes. And still, his hands stay at his sides, not once touching you, just as you’d demanded. You figure that earns him at least a little bit of praise.

“See? This is what happens when you’re a good boy.” You give his cheek another light smack, watching as his head rolls weakly to the side with the force of it. “Now get out.”

It takes a moment for the words to really hit him, but once you’ve climbed off the bed and started putting your underwear back on, Diego makes a pathetic little noise and pouts.

“‘Get out’?”

“Yeah, you heard me.” You raise an eyebrow, picking up his own boxer briefs and tossing them at his head. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“I… wh –” Diego sputters, voice briefly muffled by his underwear smacking him in the face. “Love, I thought –”

“If you think I’ve forgiven you then you’re sorely mistaken.” You laugh triumphantly, watching as he sulks and pulls his clothes back on. “That ass is gonna have to get fucked a few more times before I even think about letting you off the hook.”

Diego’s pout briefly shifts to an obnoxious smirk. “Promise?”

“Ugh,” you loudly groan, clapping both hands against his shoulders and guiding him out of the bedroom. “Enough. Goodnight.”

You quickly shut the bedroom door as soon as he’s out, hearing him chuckle and mutter a declaration of love. Biting back a smile, you take a deep breath and begin cleaning up.

Unfortunately, you love him too.

#diego brando x reader #jjba x reader #my writing #diego brando #this was so fun to write LOLLLLLL

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duchi-nesten · 1 year

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DannyMay Day 26: Art/Fic Switch!

Treats and Threats

Summary:

Valerie was going to kick Phantom’s ass for this! The only problem? She didn’t know where to find him.

Good thing Cujo was more than willing to help in exchange for some treats. Too bad he wasn’t very good at distinguishing which Danny he was meant to find though...

Word Count: 2894 || AO3 Link

Did I use this day as an excuse to try writing something for the shared cujostody au?? Maybe...

it referances this comic a little bit...

[Shared Cujostody AU Masterpost]

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Valerie was gonna kick Phantom’s ass for this. Did he think she wouldn’t notice?

She looked over to Cujo, who was sniffing all over her room. He just came over as he often did. Phantom liked to think they had a set custody schedule or whatever it was he called it, but in reality Cujo just came by whenever he wanted and to whichever of them he wanted.

She was reluctant to ‘’adopt’’ the ghost dog at first. Yes, she wasn’t as mad at him anymore after she finally listened to Phantom and found out why exactly Cujo was now a ghost, but that didn’t mean she had to like him. He was incredibly persistent though and the more time Valerie spent around the dog, the more she started loving him. He was just a tiny little puppy, a ball of joy who wanted to play all the time.

She even kept some treats for him for whenever he came over and started making and buying him some dog clothes. He loved dressing up, especially when they got to match. And it made Phantom jealous, so it was just bonus points for her really.

Phantom used to insist that the dog wasn’t his, but now it seemed like they were fighting for who gets to have him. Okay, she was fighting. That idiot seemed delighted to share the ‘’custody’’, he kept making jokes about them being a family which was genuinely getting on her nerves. He was so infuriating.

She did agree to a truce with him after finding out he was right about Vlad, but that didn’t mean she had to enjoy sharing Cujo with that menace. He was too careless and brute with the puppy. Which is exactly why she needed to find him right now and kill him, truce be damned.

Unfortunately for her the ghost attacks have been kinda on the down low lately and she had no idea where he hung out when he wasn’t fighting them. She did send him a bunch of text messages and even tried calling (which was still so weird! How did he even get that phone??), but she was sent to voicemail every time.

If only there was a way for her to track him down…

She glanced at Cujo, who had his head stuck in the plastic box of treats. She sighed. Truly nothing could stop a ghost dog. She always tried hiding these from him, but no matter where she put the box he always managed to sniff it out.

Which gave her an idea. If he could sniff these out then maybe…

‘’Cujo, baby. You know you’re not supposed to eat those.’’ she gently pushed his head out of the box. If he really wanted to he could just phase through her hand and continue, but he was a good boy and always listened. Yet he kept his eyes on the treats as if they would disappear at any moment. She chuckled.

‘’I’ll give you a treat if you do something for me.’’ she said and his eyes instantly snapped to her. His tail slowly swayed back and forth. ‘’Can you find Phantom for me? Sniff him out?’’

Cujo blinked at her before barking happily, tail full on wagging now. He phased through her hand and made his way through the bedroom window. She quickly jumped to follow him, nearly yanking the window off its hinges. Her suit making a humming sound as it activated.

He got quite ahead of her, but she managed to keep up just fine. She did have his ecto-signature marked in her tracker just in case she ever lost track of him, but she also had Phantom’s and that one tended to disappear off her radar at random. She wasn’t so inclined to test if Cujo’s wouldn’t do the same.

They flew their way through Amity Park before Cujo suddenly took a sharp turn towards her high school. She saw him growing into his bigger form before he disappeared behind the building.

As she rounded the corner and saw Cujo’s back, tail wagging. It seemed like he was holding someone in his mouth.

Got ya, ghost boy.

She landed behind the dog and could hear his captive yelling

‘’Cujo! I can’t right now! I told you to go to-’’

Cujo turned around to show his catch to Valerie and…

‘’Oh-... Heheh.. hi Red! Uh.. Huntress!’’

That was not Danny Phantom.

That was Danny Fenton.

‘’CUJO NO. Shit, I’m so sorry Da-uh citizen!’’ She quickly raced up to them and coaxed her puppy into releasing her ex boyfriend. Which he did by letting him fall face first on the ground. ‘’SHIT.’’

Valerie knelt down next to him to help him rise to his feet.

‘’Are you okay??’’

‘’Yeah.’’ he said, standing up to his full height, which was only slightly taller than her. He looked at her and sent her a bright smile. ‘’Don’t worry about it.’’

She smiled back knowing that he probably struggled to see it through her visor. His view got even more obscured when Cujo put his huge snout in between them wagging his tail happily. Which ended up with him accidentally knocking over some full trash cans standing behind him.

‘’Ugh. Cujo, I just cleaned that up.’’ Danny said resigned, moving over to the garbage. ‘’Lancer’s gonna have my head if he sees another piece of mutated meat.’’

Valerie looked at the knocked over trash and sure enough it was full of disgusting glowing green meat. Or at least what was left of it. It looked maimed and burned.

Right. He was recording a tiktok during lunch today. She was eating in the library while working on her missed homework, so she didn’t get to see it herself, but she heard the rumors. Apparently he put some sort of new ectoplasmic concoction from his parents lab in his serving of today’s mystery meat. It backfired and spread to every piece of meat in the cafeteria like a disease.

People were saying it was like a zombie apocalypse with all the meat moving around the room. Some even said they saw the Lunch Lady ghost appear for a second before she noticed Danny in the middle of it and left terrified. Which if that was true Valerie couldn’t blame her. Danny’s eating habits probably made her turn in her grave.

‘’You didn’t eat it, did you?’’ she asked, squinting at a small piece of meat that apparently survived whatever happened to the rest of it and was slowly crawling away from them, likely trying to escape. Danny picked it up and squashed it in his hand before it got far.

‘’Obviously I did.’’ he turned to her with a familiar shit-eating grin on his face, moving the thing he caught closer to his mouth as if to prove a point.

Damn him. How could he be so endearing even when he was being disgusting?

She shook her head chuckling and looked at Cujo instead. He was looking right back at her expectantly. Right.

‘’No Cujo, no treats until you find Phantom for me.’’ she said sternly. She saw Danny trip over a trash can lid out of the corner of her eye. ‘’You good there?’’

‘’Wha-Yes! Ha- Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine! Don’t mind me!’’ he tried to act cool, almost losing his footing again. Dork.

Cujo whined at her, stepping from front paw to front paw and cocking his head to the right. He knew damn well he looked cute when he did that, no matter which form.

‘’Baby, no. I’m not gonna cave. Find Phantom and I’ll give you a treat then.’’ she said calmly trying to stroke him behind the ear, but since he was in big mode she had to settle for his cheek.

He whined a bit more letting out a little pathetic bark to go with it. He turned and stalked over to Danny, poking him in the back with his nose, which made the boy squeak.

‘’No, Cujo.’’ she said, sighing. ‘’That’s the wrong Danny you’re thinking of.’’

‘’Y-Yeah, buddy!’’ Danny chuckled nervously, petting Cujo’s snout. ‘’I’m not the one you’re looking for! Definitely not! I’m not Phantom, why would you even think that? You’re not thinking that right?’’

Okay he was acting weird. Almost as if he was hiding something.

Valerie looked him up and down. His eyes were wide, observing her every move with fear. One arm was rubbing his neck, which he always did when he was nervous. The other still stroking Cujo’s fur almost instinctively.

That’s when it clicked.

‘’No fucking way.’’ she uttered absolutely baffled.

It made so much sense.

‘’W-What?’’ he asked, his voice cracking.

‘’How many times did that asshole leave you as a dogsitter?’’

She knew Phantom did that. She caught Cujo in the background of one of Danny’s tiktoks a while ago and when she confronted Phantom about it he admitted to ‘’hiring’’ Danny as a dogsitter sometimes.

If that asshole left Cujo with Danny too often, then no wonder the poor puppy would mistake Danny for his second caretaker. Oh she was going to kick his irresponsible ghost ass even harder now!

‘’Uh… w-wha..?’’ Danny tilted his head questionably.

‘’I know about the dogsitting, Danny. And it looks like he’s leaving Cujo with you so often that the dog thinks you’re him!’’

‘’Oh… you think-’’ he knitted his eyebrows in confusion before his eyes widened. ‘’Oh! Oh, hahah, he didn’t- I mean it wasn’t many times! Maybe like twice! Is this the dog? I didn’t even recognise him, I don’t even remember his name!’’

Cujo whined again, turning into his puppy form and jumped in Danny’s arms, who barely managed to catch him in time. He started sniffing and licking his face distressed.

‘’Cujo stop! I mean! Dog whose name I don’t remember…’’ that made Cujo whine even harder and Danny flinched. He instantly gave up and buried his face in Cujo’s fur. Valerie could barely hear him mutter ‘’I can’t do this to you.’’

That interaction only reaffirmed Valerie’s suspicions.

‘’Don’t cover up for him.’’ she said, crossing her arms. ‘’I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at him. He’s going to pay for this too.’’

‘’Uh…why were you even looking for him in the first place? Did he do something?’’

‘’Yes, he knows what he did! And now this! The moment I find him I’m gonna kick his ass so hard he’ll be the gone kind of dead!’’

‘’… well you definitely won’t find him now…’’

‘’What?’’

‘’Nothing!’’ Danny shoved Cujo in her arms and started walking off before she could even react. ‘’Anyway I’ll be going now! Gotta finish cleaning so Lancer doesn’t kill me! Bye Val!’’

‘’Bye-....wait…what did you just call me?’’

Danny stopped frozen in his tracks. She stared at his back bewildered.

He slowly turned around and stared back at her too.

‘’...Bye Red Huntress! It was nice to see you, I’ll go disappear behind that corner now!’’ he yelled nervously and booked it behind said corner.

It took her a second to shake off the shock. Cujo jumped out of her arms as she quickly followed after the boy.

‘’DANNY.’’

She rounded the corner to see that he did in fact disappear. Shit.

She was sure he called her Val. How did he know about her secret identity? She was always so careful! It did explain his weird behavior though, he probably didn’t know how to act around her like this.

She needed to talk to him immediately, he couldn’t just reveal something like this and run off!

Though that is exactly what he did. How did he even disappear like that? This boy was impossible sometimes.

In frustration she knocked her head on the wall a few times. What was her life at this point?

Her thoughts got interrupted when she heard Cujo’s bark and a yelp come from behind her. Turning around only provided her with even more frustration when she saw Danny mcfucking Phantom laying helplessly under Cujo’s once again big paw.

‘’Why must you do this to the hand that feeds you…’’ he hissed to Cujo before turning his attention towards Valerie. ‘’Hey Red! You look very good today! Are those new arm plates on your suit?’’

Danny Fenton could wait. She was gonna deal with this asshole first.

‘’YOU.’’ she roared stalking over to them. Cujo looked up at her coming closer and switched to his puppy form again laying his whole body on Phantom’s chest, wagging his tail and barking excitedly.

‘’Ah.. hahah, have you been looking for me?’’ Phantom said, raising into a sitting position, even though Cujo was making it difficult for him.

‘’I’m going to end you!’’ Valerie yelled, pulling out her gun and making sure to aim it at his face and away from the dog in his lap.

‘’I thought we had a truce! What did I do?!’’

‘’YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT YOU DID.’’

‘’No, I actually don’t!’’

She let her gun disappear back into her suit and angrily knelt beside them. Picking up Cujo from his lap, she turned him around to show Phantom a charred section of fur on his right back leg.

‘’I FOUND SOME SINGED FUR ON CUJO AGAIN. You were playing too harshly with him! again!’’ she put the puppy down, so she could stand up summoning her gun back and aim it at the ghost boy in front of her.

Phantom looked from the gun to her, at Cujo and then back to the gun.

‘’……. Listen in my defense he really likes fetching ectoblasts…’’

‘’He’s gonna be fetching your ectoplasm when I’m done with you! What were you thinking?! He’s not one of your vile rouge buddies! He’s a little puppy! How many times have I told you to be softer with him?!’’

‘’Valerie, with all due respect…That dog can chew off Skulker’s head, he can take a few tiny burns! He doesn’t even react to it!’’ he defended standing up too. He kept his hands in the air as a sign of surrender. ‘’Can’t I just play catch with my own son?’’

Cujo barked from the side.

‘’UgH your SON that you constantly leave with Danny! Apparently you do that so often that he’s more used to Danny’s scent than yours!’’ she yelled irritated.

‘’Uh…I’m a ghost…. I don’t have a scent?’’ he answered, uncertain before nodding to himself. ‘’Yes. Yes! I don’t have… a scent for him to find. Only uh… Only material beings do.’’ he added still unsure and she swore she could hear him mutter something about being a genius.

‘’What.’’

‘’He couldn’t sniff me out and uh… you and Danny are the only humans who have me on speed dial so he thought that was the best next thing. Yes, that’s definitely it.’’

‘’…What.’’

‘’Yeah! It’s true! Totally! So he did good!’’ he motioned to Cujo which made him wag his tail more. ‘’Give him a treat, he deserves it. He’s a good boy!’’

The puppy barked happily.

‘’Yeah, you are!’’ Phantom crouched to coddle Cujo. ‘’Your mother just couldn’t see it! But don’t worry, your cool ass dad always got your back.’’

There he goes again with the family bullshit. Valerie slumped defeated and hid her gun.

‘’Ugh. Stop saying things like that to him, we’re not a family.’’ she groaned.

‘’Well yeah, we’re divorced.’’

‘’We never even dated!’’

‘’As far as you know.’’ he looked up at her with his dumb trademark smirk.

‘’What’s that supposed to mean?’’ she asked because what the actual fuck did he mean by that.

‘’Nothing!’’ he stood up quickly picking up Cujo to shove him in her arms and woah, did that give her deja vu. ‘’I have to go, can I have a rain check on that ass kicking? I’m very busy right now!’’

‘’Wha- No!’’ she protested trying to keep Cujo from licking her face. ‘’Get back here!’’

‘’Bye Val!’’ he yelled and flew off before she had the time to react. God damn it!

She turned her gaze down to Cujo’s pleading eyes.

‘’Alright.’’ she pulled out a dog treat from a tiny storage in her glove and gave it to Cujo. ‘’You did good baby.’’

She put him down on the ground so he could devour the treat in peace and sighed loudly. Phantom ran off like a little bitch and apparently Cujo couldn’t sniff him out. He would just go to Danny again.

Which reminded her. She still needed to have a talk with that boy. She did trust him not to tell anyone, but she needed to know how he found out in the first place, so she can make sure no one else can find out the same way. She should probably give him a bit of time before she gets Cujo to stalk him out again though.

The puppy had finished his little treat and was now looking at her with those cute red puppy dog eyes. She couldn’t hold back the smile that overtook her face. Whatever. She’ll deal with Danny at school tomorrow. And deal with Phantom whenever she sees him next.

‘’C’mon Cujo. Let’s go home.’’

It was on the way home when a sudden thought hit her.

DID PHANTOM TELL DANNY ABOUT HER IDENTITY THE SAME WAY HE DID WITH HER DAD?

#listen if i could i would make a longer more serious fic for this au because i have seen some people being interested in that but....#yeah this is what you get for now LMAO #dannymay2023 #danny phantom #valerie gray #dp cujo #danny fenton #shared cujostody au #kad writes

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lokiandbuckysdoll · 2 years

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A Tease

Summary: Bucky has been a tease all day long, yet you can’t help but jump his bones when he's relaxing after a shower.

Paring: Beefy!Bucky x Plus-Size! Reader

Word Count: 2,156

Dividers: @silkholland

Warings: 18+ only!, SMUT!, unprotected rough sex, teasing, swearing, pet names(doll, bunny, sarge) beefy!bucky (yes he needs a warning!). modern au, aftercare. *I think that’s all but please let me know if i missed something!*

A/N: strongly based off of this picture the amazing @vbecker10 sent me. // P.S this is my second time writing smut and I read a lot of smut before writing this so I could semi write good so hopefully y’all like it!!

It had all started in the morning when you woke up to Bucky kissing you, when he noticed that he woke you up he leaned into you more to give you a deep passionate kiss. You couldn't help but moan as you felt the cool sensation of his vibranium fingers, running down your hot core to rub the right spot. You pull his hair a little “b-bucky” you moan again when you feel your high coming from the quick paste he was going at, then it's gone in seconds when he pulls his hand out from under the covers and rolls off you to get up from the bed.

" Bucky come back" you whine as he walks over to the bathroom in your shared apartment. " I have to get ready for work, me and Steve are training all the new agents today" you groan knowing he loves teasing you. “ But bucky… I want you!” you whine louder rolling over onto your plump tummy to reveal your butt. You slightly raise it in the air and give it a little shake “ Please buck” you whine again knowing bucky couldn't resist your ass. Hit bit his bottom lip at the sight of his plumed naked girlfriend laying naked on display for his eyes only.

“ Sorry bunny but I have to go” he gives your forehead a kiss before he grabs his gym bag. Just then you decided two can play that game. " Okay Sargent!” you say as you got up from the bed knowing that name would rile him up and it did but he walked out of the room.

A couple of hours go by and it's a little past noon and you haven't heard anything from bucky. So you decided you’d attend your friend's private yoga studio to pass some time. This gave you the perfect opportunity to wear the tightest pair of leggings you have and the favorite sports bra that Bucky loves. When he bought it he said ‘my girls are gonna look amazing in these.’

Once you arrived at the studio you heard a bunch of whistles from the other girls in the studio. “ Damn Girl your ass is looking real nice not to mention your boobs look amazing!” Jackie the owner and your good friend commented while playfully swatting your butt. You laugh at her antics.

“ But I gotta ask, what did he do this time?” she raised her eyebrows knowing whenever you come to her studio wearing this exact outfit it’s to get back at bucky.

“ he left me high and dry this morning,” you simply said as she nodded. “ Well revenge is a bitch, I’ll be upstairs with the beginners if you need me” she smiled before she left you.

You went to the bathroom to take some pics in your outfit that you knew Bucky would love, you made sure to get a couple good pics of your boobs and butt. You only sent him two photos with ‘ do like the color sarge?’ knowing damn well he won't even look at the color. You were still gonna tease him like he did to you. After sending it you turn off your phone and head out to do some yoga.

You got so carried away with the new yoga moves that you lost track of time. When you are finished you quickly change into shorts that are probably a little too revealing and another favorite sports bra that he liked on you. Of course you cover up with some sweatpants and a jacket. This set was Specifically for Bucky's eyes only as the back of your shorts read ‘ I'm Sargents little whore’ and in small yet readable writing the bra said ‘ Sargent’s girl’s’ yet another gift from bucky.

As you turned your phone back on, you saw the messages bucky left.

My Sarge: Bunny! You can't send stuff like this while I'm at work!

He wrote with a picture of his boner.

*missed facetime from My Sarge*

My Sarge: You better answer me you bratt.

*missed call from My Sagre

My Sarge: Your getting fucked to the point you can’t walk when i get home!

The last message was sent 20 minutes ago which meant Bucky was home by now. You can't help but let out an excitement of giggling at the last text. With that you headed home.

Which leads to where you are now. When you got home he was sitting on the sofa with nothing but his towel poorly wrapped around his torso, his long hair hanging still droplets of water on his chest and hair.

The sight made you unbelievably hory and you were quick to shut and lock the door before you stripped all of your clothes off, only leaving in your underwear and sports bra. The action happened so fast bucky didn’t have time to react as you jumped and straddle his lap and kissed him while grading down on him.

" Doll I wouldn't do that if I were you, you are already in trouble with all the teasing you've done today." he groaned, pulling back from the kiss and stalling your movements with his hands on your hips.

" I want you now Sargent" You ask innocently, biting your lip, as you start rocking your hips faster " Okay that's it!" Bucky groans out and picks you up and drags you to your guy's bedroom.

As soon as you enter the room he closes the door and pins you up against the wall and starts kissing your neck. He then begins to trailed down your neck nibbling at your jaw and sucking your neck roughly, as well as giving it a couple of love bites in the spots he knew that drove you crazy.

With his freehand he spreads your legs open and places his thigh in between, pressing on your heat causing you to whimper. " You put on quite a little show for your Sargent doll " he whispers in your ear.

You knew you were done for when he calls you doll . You begin to rock your hips on his thigh causing you to moan in pleasure, he moves his free hand and places it on your hips roughly and rocks you faster causing your high to start approaching. " I'm close, may I cum?" You whimper out in between your moans. "No," he growls as he takes his thigh away, causing you to whimper from loss of contact.

" If you wanna cum you're gonna have to make up for all the teasing and work for it" he growls as moves away from your ear and goes to lay on the bed up against the headboard. His towel is still attached to him and it drives you insane. “ Strip and come to your Sargent doll” he commands you and you obey instantly. Stripping the remainder of your clothes away you climb on the bed and undo his towel revealing his hard on.

You begin to slowly pump him before giving kisses to the tip and licking the pre-cum off. Bucky bundles up your hair and pulls it a little, " No more teasing doll" you immediately take him in your mouth causing him to let out a moan. "You gonna let your sergeant face fuck you?" He asked sweetly, he didn't want to make you do anything you are uncomfortable with.

You look up at him and nod causing him to start thrusting his hip forward slowly. You feel him moving in and out of your mouth starting to hit further back in your throat than it has been before, good thing you don't have a bad gag reflex. He starts thrusting faster and tears start to form in the corner of your eyes.

" You're Sargents little whore aren't you?" You hum on his member in response causing him to moan at the feeling. " Oh right there doll, fuck you're taking me so well". You feel him twitch in your mouth indicating he is close so you suck your cheeks in a little as he starts thrusting sloppier but faster, " OH FUCK Y/N!" He moans out as he shoots his cum down your throat. "Swallow like a good girl" you swallow before you lean back on your knees.

"Did I make up for it?" you ask him, wiping your mouth " I think you did a doll, now it's my turn" Before you could process what’s happening bucky had pulled you up to sit on his face. He spreads your legs and kissing your thick thighs causing you to whimper.

" Please Sarge please," You wine out "what doll?" "What's wrong?" "Please", is all you manage to say. "you gotta use your words doll" " Fuck please do something. Please eat me out, finger me whatever just please stop teasing" you practically yell out with frustration.

" As you wish doll" he slides his middle and index finger in you, You hiss at the coolness of his metal fingers but are drawn away from it when you feel him starting to suck on your clit. "Oh fuck" you moan as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you "faster please" you wine out "please what?" You hear Bucky say before returning to assault your clit.

"faster please Sarge- oh shit." You moan out the last part. You were falling into your euphoria as you felt bucky fingering you and eating you out. You tingle your hands in his long hair and pull slightly when he hits your G-spot with his fingers causing him to growl onto your clit increasing your pleasure. " Oh fuck Sargent, fuck I'm getting close ah," you moan out. Before you could get any closer to your climax buck stops and gently pulls you down to straddle him.

“ This is your punishment for teasing, work for it” you whine but nothingless you position yourself and sink down in his member letting out a moan at how good he feels. His hands automatically go to your hips and you begin to slowly move up and down. You begin to increase your pace when bucky leans up and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it slightly increasing the pleasure even more.

" Ah fuck, I'm geting close please let me cum" you whiper out with that bucky wraps you in his arms and he steadily increases his speed thrusting up into you, until he is at an inhumane pace. You are a moaning and screaming mess as he pounds into you. " FUCK SARGET" that's all it takes you to go over the edge. " Cum doll, Cum for your Sargent"

You start shaking in pleasure as your orgasm hits you like a truck. You place your hands on his chest catching your breath for a little. “ What’s the safe word doll?” he sweetly placed a kiss on your sweaty forehead. “ peach” He waits for you to nod before flipping you over and hooking your legs around his waist and looking them in place. Him rubs his hands up and down your thighs before he slowly begins to thrust into you again chasing his high.

His new position causes him to hit deeper inside of you. He grabs your hips and begins thrusting into you. You feel your second high approaching as he slams into you. " Imma cum again" you whine as he starts thrusting faster and faster. "Cum doll" you feel him twitch inside of you and you come hard as you yell out sergeant and many other curse words. Bucky kept slamming into chasing his high, " OH FUCK Y/N!" he moans out loud and squeezes your legs around his waist, trapping him.

You both lay on the bed in this position for a couple of seconds before he gets up to get a damp washcloth. He comes back and wipes you down while giving light kisses on your body. He throws the washcloth in the bathroom and climbs in bed next to you holding you close to him.

"Never tease me again doll"

" You're the one that started this, but if this is what happens I might tease you all day every day" you say smirking"

"you're killing me you know but I love you so much"

"I love you too” you turn in his embrace facing him. After a couple of seconds pass, you speak. “ Jamie?” you question and bucky knew when you called him that you meant something serious.

“ Yeah” he looked down at you you bite your lip before you looked up at him and spoke. ��Do you think this time I'll get pregnant?”

" I don;t know the bunny, hopefully if not we can always try again ” he kissed your forehead. You hummed “ Good night sarge”

“Bunny” he teased, as you giggled before placing a kiss on his lips and both of you drifted off into sleep. Sure enough two months later you found out you were pregnant and bucky couldn't have been more happy then in that moment.

TAGLIST❤️‍🔥: @vbecker10 @nana1000night @hannibals-favourite-meal @imyourbratzdoll

@animnerd

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky smut #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky x chubby!reader #bucky barnes x chubby!reader

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putschki1969 · 7 months

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youtube

Kaji Fes.2023 Day 1 FULL Video [Reupload]

Find the original post from last night HERE. It doesn't show up on the Tumblr dashboard so only people who actively check my blog have seen it. I exchanged the video with an official one so I guess it might have been a copyright issue. Don't think I've ever had one, very interesting.

»»—— CLICK ME 🎁 CLICK ME ——««

❗FOR PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗CREDIT me if you SHARE on other sites❗

I was quite excited to watch this since I only attended Day 2 last December. I didn’t necessarily regret not going for Day 1 but there were a couple of really neat songs in the setlist that I kinda wished I had been able to see performed live. The audio seems a bit dull but maybe it’s just me… Anyway, it’s still a pretty epic live. Please note that they decided to cut a handful of songs from the broadcast (probably to keep the whole thing at roughly 2 hours). The following songs are not included: fake garden, canta per me, she has to overcome her fear, I beg you and 砂塵の彼方へ.

Here are some random thoughts┗(•ˇ_ˇ•)―→

fake garden

canta per me

the world: Nothing much to say here. Decent performance but I liked the song more when it was led by Keiko.

Liminality: Loved, loved, loved this version with the amazingly talented Yuri Kasahara, Keiko and Kaori. The bridge here might be my favourite of all time.

in the land of twilight, under the moon: Never been a fan.

swordland: Another highlight for me. I think it’s easy to tell that I am a real sucker for YK’s guest vocalists that use a more operatic singing style.

she has to overcome her fear

luminous sword: Always been a big fan of Yuki’s SAO soundtrack. I understand why it gets performed a lot.

星屑: Even though this is a Keiko-centric song, I’ve never really liked it all that much so I don’t have much to say about it.

花守の丘: Solid.

ｗe’re gonna groove: Those who have followed me for a while know how I feel about the accordion. I dislike this instrument with a passion and it’s just featured way too heavily here. Fun fact, when Day 2 started with the accordion, I got really scared and wondered whether or not I would enjoy myself.

Obsession: Can’t say I’ve ever heard this song before. Sadly, it’s nothing that leaves a lasting impression. Also, that accordion…(¬_¬) Weird choice for LINO LEIA. It was fun hearing Keiko sing a bit of English though.

千夜一夜: Once again, not familiar with the song. Like this one a bit more though. Generally, I think I prefer rito’s vocals over LINO’s even though I don’t really know why.

Point Zero: This is one of my all-time favourite YK songs and one of the few tracks I really regret not seeing live on Day 1. Another epic performance by Yuri Kasahara. God, I love her so much.

salva nos: Speaking of regrets, yup, I’ll admit it, I am pretty bummed that I missed this one. “salva nos” and “a song of storm and fire” were the very first YK songs I ever listened to and they quite literally changed the trajectory of my life. Without those two songs, I wouldn’t have looked into more of YK’s stuff and I certainly wouldn’t have discovered Kalafina. One day, I wanna be there for a live performance. At least I got to hear “a song of storm and fire” on Day 2. So grateful for that!! Anyway, super epic.

花の唄: No thoughts.

I beg you

櫂: Ahh, I almost forgot about Aimer’s Mizu no Akashi 2.0. It’s so funny to me that this is literally copy/paste. Lovely melody, I don’t even mind the vocals all that much but damn, it’s not even coming close to Wakana’s Mizu no Akashi.

朝が来る: Decent but nothing to write home about.

My Story: Ohhh, another score track from “Hanako to Anne”. I was actually blown away by Day 2’s “希望の光”. This is not as good but still quite nice. Weirdly enough I am obsessed with the uilleann pipes. How come I can’t stand the accordion but I absolutely love this instrument? Probably because I am really into the celtic sound?

Parallel Hearts: Ugh, never liked this song, not even when Wakana was still around.

stone cold: This on the other hand is a song I’ve always enjoyed but with Wakana no longer in the picture, it’s just not the same. Will never get used to the Kaori chorus. Sorry T_T Still like this though.

the image theme of Xenosaga II: Good stuff.

蒼穹のファンファーレ: Love that this is focusing on the FJ regulars. My favourite performance of the song so far.

#yuki kajiura #kajiura yuki #video #report #Kaji Fes. 2023 #Kaji Fes #fictionjunction #Keiko #Uploading this again #the first 2 posts weren't showing up on the dashboard #sorry for the spamming

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 6 months

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OC in 15: Kira Sato

rules: share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

thx for the tag!!! @topaz-carbuncle

YOOO THE WAY I GOT SO EXCITED TO DUST OFF MY OC

anyway, i screwed around with the raildex universe and created an oc based off that. unfortunately none of this is published because i basically rewrote the entire thing to the point that it's like in a place where it's not original fiction but also not *quite* fanfiction anymore

1) “How does it feel, hmm? To have someone wrap their fist around your heart? Don’t be prepared to dish out pain unless you’re willing to receive it.” Upon seeing his lack of a response, she slightly tilted her head. “I wasn’t able to do Blood Flow before. You and your ‘sensei’ knew that better than anyone, but ever since you attacked me, I’ve only been able to control one medium at a time. Man, I was pissed, but it turns out I have more control if I’m only controlling one. I was never able to do this before, but now thanks to you, I can. Do you understand what’s about to come next?”

2) “I’m killing again for the sake of this power.” Now that they were dead, the grief returned. She leaned back against a wall, sliding down, her head buried in her hands. “The only way to repay them is to perfect my power. I need to get stronger so I can protect them. Yes, that’s the only way to make sure they didn’t die in vain.”

3) “Oh? So you were wanting to kill me. I should kill you a million times for that, you know!” she yelled out as she squeezed down on her neck. “My abilities let me heal, you fucking idiot. If you’re gonna try to kill me, you gotta make sure you finish the job.”

4) “I really did expect just a little bit more of a challenge from you. The times that I’ve fought next to you were quite amazing. Really, they were. It’s amazing how befuddled people get when they realize that your right hand can cancel out abilities. The only thing with me is that I know how to counter that right hand of yours. After you take that out of the equation, what else do you have left? What else can you do?” Kira gave him a gentle smile. “You made a good effort. You made a really good effort. So it’s about time you had a rest!”

5) “I’m not the type of person that saves people.”

6) “I’m not a good person,” she whispered. “I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve you, I-”

7) “We’ve played this song and dance before and to be honest, your track record isn’t working in your favor. The only way you’re getting out of this is to tell me where she is and maybe, just maybe, I’ll kill you quickly.”

8) “If I have to forget who I am to save her, I will,” Kira said with an empty look in her eyes.

9) "...monster I was always meant to be. That's right. Kihara Kenkyuu had always said that something was special about me. Takaki Yoshi said that my abilities were different. Maybe I really am a monster."

10) "Do you want to live or die? It’s your choice. That damned Kihara Seigo might have made it so that I can’t control who the hell I kill when I touch them, but that’s a different case with you, isn’t it?” Kira currently held up one of the Hound Dog lackeys that was unfortunate enough to have gotten separated from the rest.

11) “Do you ever shut up?” spat out Kira to silence the man. She grabbed the piece of steel stabbing into the man. “What a pain in the ass. Just asking me to kill you is too vague. I’ll move this thing around to tear your insides to pieces if you keep going down this route.”

12) “Do you really think there is any path left that will save you? After living in this world, trampling on so many people, and making enemies of me and that bastard Kihara Seigo, do you really think you can still live a happy life? That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re utter trash. How many people have you killed?”

13) “Oh? Then you need a hospital,” continued the Level 5 with a grin. “Of course, I could heal you, but-” Kira shrugged and then looked towards him with scorn. “You idiots took that control away from me. So it looks like there’s no salvation for you here, but you won’t die. Not this easily. I’ll make sure your suffering lasts. Keep living on that hopeless path of life so I can relieve some stress.”

14) “Sorry about that,” Kira said with an uninterested look on her face. “I swore to a certain someone that I wouldn’t be participating in this shit anymore, but it looks like I fucked up.” A laugh leaked out. “You see, if I had my abilities, I probably could have ‘adjusted’ the trajectory of the shell so that it would’ve landed in your leg and removed your ability to walk temporarily or something like that. But oh wait,” Kira looked at the woman with a mocking expression. “You fucks took that away. Karma really is a bitch, you know.”

15) “Sorry,” apologized Kira while cutting her off. “I may be trying to walk on the path of good now, but you lot really pissed me off. I just can’t rest peacefully without finishing the job.”

tagging writer moots :3 (sorry if you don't have oc's or reader lines to use ksjdflskdjf): @chaotic-on-main @leviismybby @lucysarah-c @jayteacups @the-traveling-poet @sixpennydame @flametrashira @kingkonoha @wyvernslovecake @peachdues @postwarlevi + anyone else that wants to show off their oc's!

#tag games #moots #i didn't go for the bonus points either because i like sandwiching dialogue tags between lines #also i've been writing this since like 2014 so it was very difficult to just write 15 lines of dialogue #and feel like i still captured her character well

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s3a-s1ug · 1 year

Note

Mmm after 3 seperate breakdowns with 20 minute breaks in between im in questionable mood, my eyes are still burning from tears so i will use my fragile state of mind to request a fear and hunger nsfw scenerio... fic... thing?

How about Ragnvaldr × Cahara? I know its a joke in the fandom that Cahara is a size queen for all the fucked up reasons you can imagine, but from the ingame art to fanart, he seems kinda like a hoe ngl. I know he has a wife but come on, let a girl dream. Basically the fic would be in the canon setting of the game, and the two would meet as normal, but Ragnvaldr notices that Cahara attempted to steal his shit. However, instead of getting mad and kicking Cahara on his merry way in the dungeon, he decides to keep a close eye on him. The dungeon is a dangerous place and its always good to have more hands for weapons.

One thing leads to another, you'll be the judge of that, and they end up sharing a bed. And Cahara once again proves himself to be untrustworthy by feeling around in Ragnvaldr's pockets. But what he touches isnt his pocket, unfortunately.

God I hate myself. Its 4 am, i need to sleep

Oh and also happy christmas

“The Thief’s Tricks”

Cahara x Ragnvaldr Fic - Part One

༺☆༻

THIS REQUEST SAVED ME!!! This is actually so fun. The next part should be out soon! I’m that case enjoy!!! …and merry Christmas to you too..? Time is a construct I guess.

༺☆༻

The prisons. The heavy oppressive nature of the sights to be seen in there would shake anyone to their core. Bloodied empty prison cells captured the true horrors of what happened to its unfortunate prisoners. All for except one.

“…hey…hey big guy..!”

Ragnvaldr stopped in his tracks and locked into the prison cell. A man with dark messy hair on the other side. He seemed to be in shape but he looked very tired. Bags under his eyes. He gave a tired smile

“Look.. I’ll give it to you straight… I’m in a tough one here and I could REALLY use your help. You look strong. You think you could get me outta here..?” He asked with a hint of desperation in his voice

Ragnvaldr analyzed the man on the other side of the bars. Could he be trusted?…then again…the dungeons are very dangerous and it could be better to traverse them with some help…

“Hmm… what is your name?”

“Cahara..! Of the south.”

“Ragnvaldr. If I were to help you out of here you will have to help me too.”

“Oh?”

“I am on a quest to find a person..and kill him. He is long way down these dungeons so if you are willing I could use the help.”

The mercenary didn’t even give himself time to think and answered immediately

“Yeah sure! I’ll help. I’d say I’m a pretty useful asset. Im a mercenary so I think I could be of good help.

Ragnvaldr only nodded in agreement. He held the bars of the cell. They were rusty and worn out but sturdy enough to keep someone from getting out. He gripped the bars and slowly separated two of them to make an opening for Cahara to get out.

“Woah…damn…you ARE strong..!” He said in awe. A little intimidated even.

“Ja. But you must promise me one thing. You will not deceive me. Since I have helped you, you must return the favor.” He held out his hand for Cahara to shake

“Yeah sure thing”

Cahara shook his hand then brought him into…a hug..?

“I can’t thank ya enough, man. I mean it”

Ragnvaldr was taken aback by this. He swore he felt something in his pocket but before he could react Cahara pulled off from the hug and smiled

“Well I’d assume you know the way?”

“U-uh ja. Follow me” He said with a hint of confusion. He was still cautious mainly due to Cahara’s “off” vibe.

They walked for a bit trying to find their way out of the prisons. Multiple corners were turned in silence. Ragnvaldr went to grab for something in his pocket but…it was gone… he stopped in his tracks. Cahara, who was pretty far behind him now, stopped us well, pretty taken aback.

“Cahara.” Ragnvaldr said sternly, not looking at him

Cahara seemed nervous

“Uh, yeah..?”

“Give it back. You took it.”

“Took what? I wouldn’t steal anything from you. Uh promise! I’m here to help after all heh”

Ragnvaldr turned around and looked at Cahara. He walked up to him and grabbed Cahara’s wrist.

“Give. It. Back.” He squeezed Cahara’s wrist tightly while giving him a stern glare

Cahara gulped. He was in a tight spot. Cahara was in no way weak. He had a fine build and could try to fight back but… that probably wouldn’t last long.

Cahara sighed. He shuffled through his pocket using his other hand and grumbled pulling the vials out and giving them to Ragnvaldr

He let go of Cahara’s wrist

“You made a promise. Next time I won’t be so forgiving. As it may seem I actually need to help. So don’t try this again”

Cahara nodded silently, clearly getting the message.

“You will walk by my side. You’re very sneaky. This will not happen again.”

Ragnvaldr turned around again and continued walking with Cahara catching up to his side silently

‘Damn this guy is tough. Really tough. I don’t want to stay here but I did promise… if there was just a way I could find to leave…hmm’

They walked for a good long while, encountered some enemies, nothing too bad, but it was beginning to get grueling

Cahara yawned and groaned loudly

“Ughhhh… man how long have we been walkin for? My legs are starting to sore….”

“…hmm…ja I suppose we have been walking for… a while” Ragnvaldr didn’t say it but even he was starting to feel tired “well perhaps there is a room nearby, keep a look out”

They walked for another long while until reaching a small stone room. Wasn’t much in it. A tattered rug, cabinet with some old drinks, and one singular bed. Cahara slightly glanced at Ragnvaldr

“Soooo…um… should I like… sleep on the floor? Or..”

“Nej, we will share it. We both need rest. We will make do”

“Oh..! Alright then”

This was certainly gonna be…interesting.

To be continued…

༺☆༻

Next part will be NSFW muahahah so stayed tuned!!!!

☆〜（ゝ。∂）

#fear and hunger #funger #gaming #ragnvaldr #rpg #cahara fear and hunger #f&h #f&h ragnvaldr #fear and hunger termina #f&h cahara #fanfic #part one #headcanon #fear and hunger ragnvaldr

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brutal-nemesis · 1 year

Text

Yeehaw we gettin tagged by @whump-me (tyyyy) and posting 7 snippets from our writing (or wips but i am a wipless bastard atm 🤪) and i have decided to do some Silly Castys Moments (and also some Erebus stuff ig 🙄)

Warning for some gore probably it’s Nemi writing so yk but I’ll try to keep the really bad stuff outta here (there also some armputation and guy going crazy and starving to death over and over you know the drill)

1. Local silly guy does in fact regret it very much

“I don’t really want you, per se, but a certain…friend of yours.” Castys stiffened, and he heard a faint laugh. “I think you know who I’m talking about.”

“I really don’t. I’ve got a lot of friends, you know, and-” something slammed into the metal above him, cutting him off.

“Don’t play dumb with me; you know exactly who I’m talking about, and you’d better tell me where I can find him or I’ll make you regret it.”

“Please, do your worst. I already regret so many damn things so I don’t think another one on the pile will do much to me, to be honest,” Castys mused, wiggling against his bonds slightly.

2. The worst fmk in existence gets you stabbed

“Hey, guys, fuck, marry, kill for rice, pasta, and bread, go. I think for me, I gotta say fuck bread, marry rice, kill pasta. Don’t get me wrong, I love some noodles, some noods, but, like, man. Have you ever just, like, had some bread? Insane. I would fuck bread. I don’t wanna fuck anything, but boy I would fuck the bread. And rice, man, she’s so dependable, she’s always there for you. What I would want in a spouse if I wanted anything in a spouse. This game wasn’t really designed for me, and yet, here I am. So, c’mon, what’s it from you two? You’ve gotta have-Hey, Danny boy, got an opinion you’d like to share?” Castys smiled up at the man now standing in front of him.

Daniel rolled his eyes before putting his asshole face back on. “Just do something useful for once and hold this for me, vermin,” he said with a smile, lifting Castys’s shirt and gently sliding the knife he was holding into his abdomen. Castys just sighed, way too used to being stabbed to really care much about this.

3. Ripping your arm off but it’s a Phineas and Ferb reference (this one is probably the most gory of all the snippets fyi but it’s not too bad)

Sensing his chance, Castys grabbed the manacled wrist of his shredded arm with his good hand, bit down on the gag, and pulled. He couldn’t give up, couldn’t stop, not after enduring this much, he could feel his flesh tearing, sending out sparks of agony unlike anything he’d ever known, and he had to keep pulling, pulling and jerking and tearing and twisting and praying, praying that he could rip it off before he drowned again, which, hey, kind of a weird thing to want, not that he hadn’t had to amputate his own limbs before, but weird that it was happening again, and honestly, this hurt way more than the other times, but wasn’t that always the case-and fuck there was no way he was going to be able to just snap his bones like this, and he needed it to be completely severed, and there was no time, wedge it against the rocks and pull pull pull until there was a snap and a burst of unholy agony, so intense it almost smothered the relief, so fierce it made him forget he was drowning up until the moment his oxygen-starved brain lost consciousness.

4. Lmaoooo bitches trapped in a cell for like 200 years

Every three days. Thirst. Weakness. Dizziness. Death. Was it three days? Is that how long you could last without water? He tried to count, but the numbers got lost in the haze all too easily. There was no way to mark the stone, to keep track outside of his head, the blood wasn’t being washed off him anymore. He had nothing, nothing at all, just here and himself and the unyielding stone. The square of sunlight would move across the cell, the only motion to break the constancy of everything else. It was the same day repeated over and over and over and over and over and it was the same just the same nothing ever changed, ever, ever, it was the same-

Something wasn’t the same. The leather muzzle that had kept him silent for so long had been slowly rotting, and it finally fell off. For a moment he simply stared at it lying there on the ground, broken, dying, fading away. He opened his mouth for the first time in decades. And he screamed, because that thing got to rot away and disappear and he wouldn’t, he would always be here, hungry and thirsty and alone and trapped and alive and it wasn’t fair, not at all, and he screamed because it had been so long since he was able, he cried because it was all he could do.

5. Erebus’s iconic sit down protest ✨ (it does not accomplish anything in the end)

“You are coming with me. As of today you are my property, so you will do as I say. Resistance will only make things more difficult for you. So you will walk, or you will be dragged. Your choice.” Erebus initially felt a bolt of fear shoot through him, but looking down at her scrawny frame, he realized that she likely couldn’t carry out her threat.

Dragged? He’d like to see her try.

Erebus sat down on the ground and looked expectantly up at Neteri, one eyebrow raised. She huffed and narrowed her eyes. Planting her feet firmly on the ground, she tugged on the chain as hard as she could, but it did little more than make him lean forward. She sighed. “Okay, you have a point there.”

6. More Erebus and Neteri shenanigans because she’s right he’s being a drama queen

“You can’t just do that! That’s-you can’t just amputate my arm!”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you’d freak out.”

“Of-of course I’m freaking out! You want to cut off one of my limbs, for Drottkia’s sake!”

“I mean, yeah, but I’m going to give you a new one right away. So at the end of the day you’ll have the same number of arms you started with. It’s honestly not worth getting that worked up about.”

7. New phobia alert!! (warning for centipede on guy)

He felt it, it was on him, dozens of little legs pitter-pattering across his skin, crawling on him. “G-get it off. Neteri, please, please get it off.” It tickled the back of his neck, around the base of the section of skin she’d replaced. “What’s it doing Neteri plea-” she clamped a hand over his mouth, her thumb rubbing against his cheek as he whimpered.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay Erebus. I’m just seeing if it can connect to you, I promise I’ll take it off when I’m done.” Connect to him?! What-what did that mean-oh it had stopped crawling around it was just sitting there it was on his back what was it going to do to him what did connecting mean was it-Erebus felt a momentary pinch at the base of his neck, and suddenly his limbs starting moving, wriggling in the restraints all on their own. Neteri removed her hand from his mouth and looked down at him expectantly, her other hand still gripping his tightly even as his fingers twitched uncontrollably. “Are you doing that?”

“N-no I-I’m not moving I’m not doing that why are they doing that I can’t stop it is it doing that to me make it stop make it let go please-” Tears were streaming from Erebus’s eyes but he didn’t care he just wanted that thing off he wanted it gone he wanted control of his own body back he’d always had that even when he was tied up and strapped down he’d always had that-

And there we go hope that either a fun time on memory lane or at least made you laugh a little

Taggin uhhhh @galaxywhump @yet-another-heathen and @painsandconfusion (mainly because i know you will want to read the Castys content 💕)

#most people be sharing like real nice whump #and here i am with mostly sillies #some whump in there but yk #alright lets see what are my vibes for each thing #first one we got castys being a little silly and sassy i like how that slowly leaves him as the torture goes on in this one :)#writing that FMK was PAINFUL y'all i swear we all appreciate daniel stabbing castys's dumb ass #3rd one i just love that whole thing i'd been wanting to write the mega drowning piece for a while and it just came out real fun (❁´◡`❁)#last castys one at 4 he goes fucking NUTS lmao that whole thing is special to me im really proud of it #there are some descriptions im really proud of but the actual actions that are being implied are. uh. they're bad. so i left them out of thi #one letter too long huh. put an s at the end of that tag ty <333 #okay onto E&T shit look at erebus go sitting down like that's going to do anything. like yes you're a foot taller than her #but also. she is not the only one keeping you captive. idiot boy get fucked #armputation is fun and silly for all ages and he gets a new arm so whatever baby nothing lost!!!!#and lastly the envy demon shenanigans ✨ i just like how much he freaks out it's so festive #gold star if you read all of that and also my tags probably go eat bread or something dawg

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clericofshadows · 1 year

Text

so let love reign

Description: Kaidan meets with Admiral Hackett, continues to develop his feelings for Zaeed, and learns some concerning information about a former crew member.

Parings: Kaidan Alenko/Zaeed Massani, Regis Shepard/Kaidan Alenko, Kaidan Alenko/Zaeed Massani/Regis Shepard (past)

Rating: E

Word Count: ~ 12K

Notes: sequel to you got me in a chokehold. A bit rough, but I'm ready to get this out lol.

crossposted on AO3

The alarm Kaidan set went off, filling the quiet, dark room with the sounds of an old heavy metal song from the early 21st century.

Right. That was Regis's alarm.

A thing they both shared, a love for any kind of metal from any period of time.

Kaidan was still snug in Zaeed's arms. He groaned, loosening his grip around him. "Goddammit, it's already morning?"

"Afraid so," Kaidan yawned, throwing the sheets off of him and swinging his legs over to the side. "Got to get ready for the meeting."

"Come here before you get out of bed," Zaeed said.

Kaidan smiled and leaned in for a kiss, enjoying it despite the morning breath, both of them hesitating to deepen it else they would get too distracted.

After the meeting, perhaps.

"I'm going to jump in the shower. You know where everything is," Kaidan said after they pulled apart.

"I'll holler if I don't," Zaeed chuckled. "Go get ready. I'll freshen up after you."

Kaidan tugged off his boxers, smirking as he felt his gaze on him as he walked over to the bathroom.

He took a quick and hot shower, just enough to freshen up and to prepare himself for the meeting ahead. After he was done, he dried and tamed his curls with some gel. Enough to make him look out together in a way he didn't feel like he was right now.

One day, he'll be able to forgo the shields of a straight-laced, perfect appearance.

Not today. Not tomorrow.

One day.

Just as he was about to start shaving his growing beard, Zaeed walked into the bathroom. “Keep it.”

“Hmm?” Kaidan stopped in his tracks.

“I said, keep it. Looks good on you,” he repeated. “Try out something different for a while.”

Kaidan didn’t mind having a beard, but he didn’t always want to deal with maintaining it the same way Regis did with his. Damn near meticulous with his routine, Regis wouldn’t miss it even if the world was ending.

And the way things are now…

Kaidan shrugged, putting down the razor and washing off his face. "Sure."

Zaeed was already dressed in a dark pair of jeans, a grey sweater, and his worn leather jacket in his hand. Kaidan stepped away to grab the dress uniform hanging on the outside of the closet.

Soon enough, he was ready to go, shoes polished, uniform pressed and straight. The perfect Alliance soldier he was supposed to be.

"Made some coffee for you. Still in the pot," Zaeed casually said. “Couldn’t remember how you made it or else I would’ve brought you a cup.”

But with Zaeed here? Maybe Kaidan will start to feel ready for anything.

Even if just for a moment.

“Sugar, a little milk, and one of those caramel creamers,” Kaidan said.

“I’ll be sure to remember.”

Kaidan knew that Zaeed would, even if they never met up again like this. "And yours?" Kaidan asked.

"I like it black with some sugar. Don't need much to make me happy." He grinned.

Kaidan leaned against the kitchen counter, finishing off his cup as Zaeed entered the living room, his bag slung over his shoulder. "I'm ready whenever you are. I'm going to stop by my place while you're at your meeting and pick up a few more things."

"Sounds good," Kaidan said, putting the mug in the dishwasher. "We'll head over to my parents tomorrow morning. That should give us a few days there before I have to go back to the Alliance."

"You don't think he'll make you return sooner?"

"He might, but I'm not about to let him," Kaidan admitted. "I believe I have a lot of leverage here, and I'm going to use it to my advantage."

Regis would be proud.

"As you should. Throw the old bastard off."

Kaidan smirked. "Anything you want to tell me before going in?"

"I think bringing you to the damn meeting will throw him off enough. If it doesn't, ask him about the Frozen Pyjak. He'll know what it means."

What the hell is a Frozen Pyjak?

He couldn't tell if it was an inside joke or the name of some product. And he wasn't sure if he wanted that search history on his omnitool, even if he was savvy enough to keep it to himself.

Kaidan nodded, trying to not betray his bafflement at the whole situation. "I'll keep it in mind."

"Trust me. It's one hell of a story," he laughed. "I'll tell you after your meeting."

"I look forward to it," Kaidan said. "Because when you said you knew Hackett, I was immediately curious."

"Oh, I'm well aware. You aren't always subtle. I'm also looking forward to your meeting being over so we can finish what we started this morning."

"And what would that be?" Kaidan purred, knowing damn well what Zaeed wanted to do.

"This time, I want to take care of you. You don't always need to be in control," Zaeed said, moving to close the distance between them.

Yeah, Kaidan really wanted to let Zaeed take him apart.

It's been too damn long since he was in the other position.

"Don't mess up my damn uniform," Kaidan ordered as Zaeed claimed his mouth, being careful to not mess up his uniform but running a hand through his hair anyway, knocking a few strands loose.

"Much better," he said, pulling apart, looking Kaidan up and down with barely concealed lust.

Kaidan rolled his eyes. "We better leave before I'm late."

"I won't let that happen. Come on."

"Right behind you."

Zaeed dropped him off at Alliance HQ, waving him off and wishing him luck. In a moment of boldness, Kaidan brushed a quick peck against his lips before handing him his helmet, walking to the entrance with a small smile on his face.

Once inside, he was immediately greeted by a familiar face, a friend of Regis's, Commander Wren Clarkson, a fellow N7 adept who was one of the first biotic N7s alongside Regis.

Tall, lithe, and full of biotic power that Kaidan could sense even as he entered the building. A stark contrast to how Kaidan handles his field these days.

Interesting that she was here too, but perhaps not, knowing she was also part of Regis's plans.

"Good to see you, Alenko," she greeted. "Wish we were seeing each other under better circumstances."

"Me too," he said, shaking her hand. "Are you my escort?"

"Something like that. We can talk on the way. Follow me."

"How have you been?" He asked as they entered the nearest lift.

"Busy," she sighed. "Trying to deal with all the chaos that y'all started. No offense."

"None taken. I've been dealing with everything day by day."

"You had quite the interesting companion out there," she commented. "Same guy I saw meet up with the Admiral earlier this week."

"An old companion of Regis's and mine. It's a small world," Kaidan replied with a wink.

"I see." She smiled back. "As you probably already know, this meeting is about as unofficial as we can make it. What we're going to read you in on is quite sensitive, and I know Admiral Shepard already spelled it out for you."

"That she did," Kaidan said. "I'm interested in the offers, but I'm going to make it clear about my own expectations."

"Good. I've always wanted to see you attempt the N trials. Hell, a lot of us third gens did. But this offer will still get you the stripes, you know, just in a different way."

"You helped him organize the new program, didn't you?"

"I did," she said, stepping off the lift and turning a corner. "But I also put your name forward to help take it over."

"I appreciate that," he admitted. "Regis was always very passionate about his plans."

"Which made you the best candidate, even if you two completely ignored fraternization rules. Not that I care about that," she replied, quick to defend herself. "But some higher ups do."

He often wondered if their relationship would ever eventually bite them in the ass. Especially after Regis used a Spectre authorization to ensure they could still serve together while declaring their relationship publicly. And after Regis leveraged their relationship to ensure he and Kaidan could serve on the Normandy together.

Kaidan knew that the conversation he had with Anderson bothered him throughout their entire mission.

One of Regis's worst traits was that he had a revenge streak a mile wide. Could hold a grudge and a judgment forever.

Once he had an idea of someone in mind, it was hard for him to change it, good or bad.

He was getting better about it on the Normandy, slowly letting his new crew in a way Kaidan never expected.

Now all that progress was for fucking nothing.

"And Admiral Hackett?" Kaidan asked.

"As long as you both got the job done, he never cared. Still doesn't, for what it's worth." Wren stopped next to a desk, where Hackett's assistant was waiting. "Good luck in there, Kaidan. I look forward to working with you, if that's what you end up deciding."

"Thanks, Wren."

The assistant waved him inside. "He's waiting for you, Lieutenant."

He nodded and stepped inside the office. Surprisingly warm and well furnished, with many bookshelves and a couple of potted plants to brighten the room. The windowsill in the back even had a few succulents, all meticulously groomed.

Not at all what he expected.

"Close the door behind you, Alenko," Hackett said, seated at his desk. "And go ahead and take a seat."

Hackett always had a particular aura about him. The mark of a ruthless soldier. The type that makes you want to stand to attention the moment you're in a room together.

The mark of someone who has seen everything and has little to lose.

Almost what Kaidan imagined Regis would turn out to be if he chose to rise through the ranks.

But Kaidan didn't quite get that feeling as he sat down, lacing his fingers together in his lap.

"Interesting driver you had there," he started. "Small world."

So he did notice.

Kaidan allowed himself to smile slightly. "It is a small world, Admiral."

How much to reveal, how much to say… Will it be useful for him to know? Or merely a distraction?

"Did he tell you to ask me about the Frozen Pyjak?" He chuckled.

Nevermind.

Kaidan let his guard down slightly, the meeting already going in a direction he didn't anticipate. Regis always liked Hackett the most out of all the Admirals he dealt with, citing that he was always the one he felt he could trust the most to not give him any bullshit.

"He did," Kaidan confirmed. "That's the only thing he's told me so far."

"'So far?'" Hackett asked, raising an eyebrow. "Now you've got me at a disadvantage. You don't have to tell me the full story, but how the hell do you know Massani?"

There's many ways he can tell this story.

He chose the fun way.

"A run-in with the Vorcha mafia, 5,000 credits and a bottle of whiskey. Among other things. Regis and I have known him for a few years now." Kaidan leaned back in the chair, a smile tugging at his lips. "I know him very well, in fact."

"I see. Perhaps our offer will end up being even more perfect for you than I anticipated."

"How so?" Kaidan asked, crossing his legs. "I got the impression from your message that this meeting wasn't the most official, much like the one I had with Admiral Shepard."

Is he being too bold? Probably. But Hackett almost seemed impressed, as if he expected something entirely different.

Kaidan has already proved he's not always the same man he presents on the outside.

"It's not," he confirmed. "There's something we're going to spin for you publicly that will have very little in common with what you're going to be doing for us. If you accept."

"Fill me in," Kaidan said, keeping his expression neutral.

"Hannah already gave you the pertinent details. A new way to train biotics and to forge them a new path to greatness. You talked to Clarkson outside. She's going to be leading new training regimens for new N recruits, expanding on Shepard's ideas for biotic only–or rather, primarily biotic–N soldiers," Hackett began.

Kaidan nodded, already familiar with the situation. "Shepard told me all about his ideas, asking for my input. He decided on Adepts, Vanguards, and biotic-leaning Sentinels getting a special designation like the Destroyers and Shadows."

"Furies, Slayers, and Paladins. Alchemists was another he suggested for Sentinels who were particularly biotically inclined," Hackett replied. "And of course, you've been read in on the alternative path to N7."

"Is that what you have planned for me?" Kaidan asked, leaning forward.

"Yes. After you complete the first level of N training–and I have no doubt you'll manage it–we'll begin sending you on missions of the highest caliber," Hackett continued. "You and Shepard already encountered the exact threat I want you to focus on."

Kaidan could tell by his tone he wasn't talking about the Reapers.

"You want me to target Cerberus," Kaidan said, realizing at that moment what kind of missions they wanted him for.

Experiments on aliens and attacks and assassinations on Alliance… There's plenty to be explored just with the few missions they went on while on the Normandy. Enough to show that something was brewing behind scenes, and it wasn't anything Kaidan wanted to see grow.

But what was their goal in all of this? All the mercs they encountered were human, and yet they were testing on and going after humans, especially Alliance.

Hackett nodded, leaning forward. "Exactly. After what Shepard discovered about them and the data we obtained from Admiral Kahoku, it has become enough of a potential threat."

"But not enough of one to go about this publicly," Kaidan observed with a hint of bitterness.

Hackett didn't comment on his tone. If anything, a bit of it seemed to leech into his reply. "I'm sure you heard the news reports about how he supposedly died. I remember reading your report as the combat medic. Publicly, the Alliance is being careful to not draw too much attention to Cerberus. Privately, we’re working on learning more about the organization and what their goals are as a 'pro-human organization.'"

Kaidan could hear the air quotes from a mile away. "And if I accept your offer… what would that look like?"

"Don't bullshit me, Alenko. You and I both know you came in here ready to do whatever it takes to go beyond Shepard's footsteps. No, I'll ask you this: What are you willing to do to ensure that we deal with Cerberus and learn more about the Reaper threat?" Hackett asked, his voice lowering in tone.

Kaidan held his head high. "I won't be another Regis Shepard. You won't get the Butcher of Torfan out of this deal. You'll be getting Kaidan Alenko.” His words echoed the promise he gave to Hannah.

“And if there’s another Torfan?” Hackett challenged, staring him down with a piercing gaze, analyzing him and looking for any weakness.

Torfan–that damn mission keeps popping up, as if it was the only way to define a soldier.

“Then you’ll get a decision made by me,” Kaidan replied without missing a beat. “I’m not and never will be as ruthless as Shepard, but that doesn’t mean I won’t make the hard calls. You only heard part of the conversation about how to approach the Sovereign and Destiny Ascension situation.”

“If you focus on Sovereign, the Destiny Ascension will likely be lost, and everyone on board with it,” Ashley said, crossing her arms. “The galaxy will see you as turning your back on the same council that finally gave humanity some representation. And I’m not sure that’s a situation humanity can handle.”

“Yes,” Kaidan agreed, glancing over at Ashley before meeting Regis's gaze. “But stopping Sovereign now will prevent more lives from being lost. How many ships will the Alliance sacrifice to save the Council and everyone on board? Sovereign is our goal here, and if we divert, we could lose it all. It’s your call, Regis.”

“You agreed with Shepard’s decision to focus on Sovereign?” Hackett asked.

“I did. I would’ve made the same choice. Who knows what would have happened if we didn’t make the call to deal with Sovereign fast? You saw how quickly it was tearing apart all the defenses," Kaidan explained, keeping his tone level.

It was almost hard for him to admit that, but it was the truth. After everything that led up to that decision, Kaidan knew exactly what he would've done in Regis's place.

Hackett looked impressed, a smile tugging at his lips. “Then I believe that is enough to answer my question. I wanted to see what kind of man you really were, Alenko. I never wanted another Shepard. He was a good soldier, but an even greater man.”

Someone needs to tell the Alliance that. All they seem to care about is keeping the idea of Commander Shepard alive.

“The Alliance doesn’t seem to see it that way. It’s clear that they want another person like him. And neither myself nor Williams will be that for them," Kaidan said, pressing his lips firmly together in annoyance.

He needs to hide his feelings better about his misgivings with the Alliance's take on Regis's death.

As of now, he's not exactly afraid of revealing too much to Hackett about it.

“I agree. And I don't want either one of you to be.” Hackett shook his head, his expression marred by frustration. “I’ve done my best alongside others to try and pull away from the Shepard narrative, since the committees won’t even authorize us to obtain his damn body."

"All because it's in Terminus, right?" Kaidan asked, his voice becoming rough with the reminder.

"Too messy of a situation politically. The new Council isn't about to help us either, even if they did have the power to function in the Terminus. I want to give him the rest he deserves too, but as of now, there's nothing I personally can do," Hackett admitted, almost appearing vulnerable for a moment before his hardened mask emerged once more.

Kaidan sighed. "I appreciate it, nonetheless."

"Back to the situation at hand. You asked what the offer was? Well, you go through N1 trials, get a promotion, and start working underneath me and my team directly, while also training and devising new biotic techniques and regimens. I can see you getting damn near N7 in pure mission prowess in about two, three years if all goes well. What do you say, Lieutenant?" Hackett said, his commanding tone shining through.

Kaidan knew what his answer was going to be right when he walked into the office.

He made his position clear, and now, it's time to start working his way up.

"I accept, Admiral," Kaidan said. "When do I start?"

"You'll get your official orders at the end of your leave. From there, you'll be shipped out to Rio after meeting with Admiral McKinney. They are already aware of your appointment, but they want to meet with you personally."

Ian McKinney. The head of the N program. Another Admiral Regis had a lot of respect for. Someone Regis always wanted to introduce Kaidan to but never got the chance.

Probably hoping that McKinney would be the one to convince him to go through the damn trials.

Wherever you are Regis, I hope you're too goddamn smug about my situation.

Kaidan nodded. "I will be waiting for the next move. I look forward to working with you, officially and unofficially."

Hackett stood up from the desk. "The only way we can truly honor his memory is by moving forward and by making sure his mark he left in the Alliance is seen and heard. I trust you will ensure it."

Kaidan stood up and saluted. Hackett saluted back. "Dismissed, Lieutenant. And good luck."

"Thank you, Admiral."

Right as Kaidan was about to turn and leave, Hackett said one last thing. "Feel free to keep Massani in the loop. I asked him to listen in on anything involving Cerberus and the Reapers."

One hell of a gift. If Hackett saw the kiss, he didn't comment on it for sure, but that seemed like knowledge enough of how close Kaidan and Zaeed were.

"Thank you." Kaidan paused, remembering the conversation he had with Adrian. "There's also something I should read you in on, but I don't have all the information yet. You know Adrian Shepard?"

"Of course. Brother to Atlas Shepard. Civilian pilot. May or may not get himself involved in shadier operations," Hackett listed. "What about him?"

"His partner is an asari matriarch, Vikram T'Lara, who is currently a physician on Omega. I'm supposed to get more information from them soon, but Vik saw T'Soni working with a known Shadow Broker agent recently," Kaidan explained, a grim expression written on his face. "Vik was willing to go directly to Aria T'Loak about this, but something tells me this information is going to come at a high cost."

Hackett's expression darkened. "Shepard never trusted her, he made that very clear in all of his reports. Keep me informed."

"I will," Kaidan promised with a nod. "I hope it's nothing, but I don't think it is."

"I trust your judgment." Hackett activated his omnitool. "I'll send you my direct line."

Kaidan accepted the information transfer on his omnitool. "The moment I hear something, I'll let you know."

Hackett nodded, and Kaidan took that as the final dismissal.

Wren was waiting for him once more as he left the office. "So," she asked lightly, "how did it go?"

"I'm taking the N path," Kaidan replied.

"Good. Following in Regis's footsteps?"

Kaidan narrowed his eyes, stopping in his tracks. "No, I'm forging my own path. There won't be another Shepard from me."

"I meant as far as keeping up his program, but I can see how you took it that way. Sorry."

Kaidan sighed. "This whole situation has me on the defensive."

"I understand," she said with a nod. "But it seemed like your meeting went well."

"It did," Kaidan said as they entered the lift. "I'll get more 'official' orders later."

“Glad to hear it. I wish you luck on your path.” She smiled. “Although, I noticed something earlier this morning. If I didn’t already know who you were and that you were a biotic, I don’t think I would’ve been able to sense you. It’s like your field is barely there.”

“A trick Regis taught me,” Kaidan admitted. “Something he taught himself so that he could be a better asset on infiltration missions.”

Among other things. Regis also used it as a defense mechanism, keeping his biotic capabilities close to throw off the enemy later.

Kaidan recalled with some satisfaction the sheer surprise T'Soni had for both of their abilities when they reduced her.

They stepped out of the lift. “Not going to teach me?” She asked. When Kaidan only raised an eyebrow as a reply, she straightened up. “Ah, I see. Something to keep up your sleeve.”

“For now. I don’t know how applicable it can be for other biotics. Regis and I always had a type of control that later gens don’t seem to have,” Kaidan said, crossing his arms as they came to a stop in the lobby. “No offense.”

“None taken. L2s are different. I get it.”

Not just that. They learned from each other. They learned from a ruthless turian mercenary who never cared for the plight of humans and the damage they were doing to their bodies with his lessons.

The experiences they had together make any routine training pale in comparison.

Kaidan had no doubt that he could adapt the technique for other human biotics to use, but it was first and foremost Regis’s technique. It wasn’t something he was willing to give up just yet.

Keeping to the “L2s are different” excuse might be the best option for him right now.

“Don’t worry, I’ll start sharing some of my tricks soon,” Kaidan said with a grin, waving off her comment. “Just know that I have to have some secrets.”

“Don’t we all?” She laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Good luck out there, Alenko.”

“Same to you, Clarkson.”

Kaidan walked out of the building, breathing in the fresh, cool air. To his surprise, Zaeed was already there, leaning against his motorcycle with a grin on his face. “So, ready to grab some lunch?”

“What are you in the mood for?” Kaidan asked, grabbing the helmet and putting it on.

Zaeed climbed on the bike. “Could go for some greasy fried food.”

Kaidan got on behind him, wrapping his arms around him and perching his head on his shoulder. “Sounds good to me. Have a place in mind?”

“I sure do.” Zaeed took off from HQ.

They reached their destination relatively quickly, parking a block away. Kaidan recognized the area, home to a hole-in-the-wall fried chicken place that was nothing short of excellent.

“Good choice,” Kaidan said, reaching out for Zaeed’s hand as they walked across the street.

Zaeed laced his fingers with his. “You’re goddamn right. Figured you’d be familiar.”

They walked inside the restaurant together, taking a seat at the nearest booth and glancing over the menu.

A waiter came by and took their drink orders, both sticking to water for now.

When he came back with their drinks, they decided to split a large order of spicy fried chicken with a selection of sides. Kaidan opted for the mac and cheese and fried okra, while Zaeed ordered a basket of fries and onion rings.

“So,” Zaeed said after taking a long sip of his water. “How did it go?”

“I accepted the offer to join the N program and to continue Regis’s biotic plans,” Kaidan summarized. “I’ll give you the full thing once we’re back home.” Realizing what he just said, he widened his eyes and tried to backtrack, but Zaeed shushed him.

“It’s only been a day, but I caught myself calling it home, too,” Zaeed admitted.

Kaidan sheepishly rubbed his neck. “It’s all moving really fast, but I guess we were always like that.”

“Even you and Regis?” He asked.

“Not exactly.” Kaidan took a drink of his water. “We were friends for a while before we decided to get together, and he was the catalyst there. Did we ever mention how we met?”

He shook his head. “Not in detail. Something about meeting in biotic training.”

That’s one way to put it. Biotic training.

BAaT still wasn’t easy for him to talk about, even if Regis helped ease his pain about it.

“Yeah,” Kaidan said, not elaborating further. Soon, maybe, but not here. “We were just friends for a couple of years before he made the first move while he was studying for his degree and visiting me and my family.”

The waiter dropped off their food. They took a moment to grab something from each plate and basket. Their conversation lulled as they ate, enjoying each other’s company and the good comfort food.

As they started to slow down, Kaidan had to ask, “What the hell is a Frozen Pyjak, and what does it have to do with you and Hackett knowing each other?”

Zaeed grinned, setting down his fork and wiping his hands on a napkin. “I knew it was bugging the shit out of you. So, it’s a type of drink, y’know, the kind of thing that a bartender makes if they are pissed off at someone.”

“Okay…” Kaidan trailed off, furrowing his eyebrows. “Go on,” he said, moving his hand in a circle.

“The bartender empties their spill pad into a glass, something fancy, and spruces it up with some kind of garnish so it doesn’t look like complete shit. And they give that to whatever unsuspecting customer that pissed them off. Terrible business. Even I wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy.” Zaeed hesitated, tilting his head in thought. “Well, maybe I would. Anyway, I think it’s goddamn horrid.”

Kaidan almost felt a little nauseous at the idea of the drink. “I’ll, uh, keep that in mind. So, what does this have to do with–”

“I’m getting there,” Zaeed said, picking up his fork and stabbing at the remnants of okra. “I never told you this, and I probably should’ve, but back in the day, I was nearly Alliance. Ultimately decided against it, but Hackett and I were in the same group. Stayed friends even after I left. Were more than that for a bit as he moved up in the ranks and I became involved in the Blue Suns.”

Kaidan wasn’t surprised to hear about the relationship part. Something about the way Zaeed talked about him–a far off look in his eye–spoke of warm nostalgia. However, hearing that Zaeed was almost Alliance threw him for a loop.

Feeling like part of the story was missing, Kaidan motioned for him to continue.

“Most importantly, he was someone I could rely on after Vido shot me in the face,” Zaeed admitted, absentmindedly rubbing at his scar. “Helped me out for a while before I got back out there.”

A deep bond, then. Kaidan barely knew the details about the scar. Regis had asked about it, and Zaeed told them about the betrayal and his vow for revenge.

Still, where does the drink fall into all of this?

“So when I say that I can trust him, you can too. Because our whole ‘thing’ started after someone tried to pull that drink shit on me. Damn near started a bar fight over it. Got ourselves kicked out, and well, if that someone was willing to lose a local haunt for me, then maybe he’s worth something,” Zaeed finished, a hint of a grin tugging on his lips.

Kaidan chose to not ask what Zaeed might’ve done to piss the bartender off.

“So, you two became friends all because of a fucked-up drink?” Kaidan asked.

“Well, the three of us decided to fuck each other after you two got targeted by the vorcha mafia,” Zaeed shot back. “And after I helped save your asses and almost losing my target.”

Well, he had a point. Kaidan conceded, “Fair enough, but I remember us saving your ass when you misjudged how powerful vorcha biotics can be.”

“Agree to disagree.” Zaeed motioned with his fork, moving to spear the last of the fried okra from Kaidan’s plate.

“Hey!” He protested, fingers twitching to put the man in a slight Stasis, enough to stall his movement and steal his food back. “You should’ve ordered more.”

“That was playing dirty,” Zaeed accused, pointing his fork at him. “But smooth. Barely felt like something was wrong before you zapped me out of it.”

Kaidan shrugged, chewing and swallowing the rest of the okra. “That’s the point. What are you going to do about it?”

“I think you have an idea.”

“Do I?”

Zaeed pushed away his plate and tossed a credit chit on the table. "Yeah, you do. There’s enough there to cover everything and some extra. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Lead the way."

Once back inside his apartment, Kaidan started loosening his collar and taking off his uniform shirt as Zaeed went to the bedroom to drop off his bag. He hung the uniform jacket on a spare hanger in the laundry before walking towards the bedroom, untucking his undershirt from his dress pants.

Zaeed pulled him in for a kiss once he stepped inside. Kaidan became pliant, allowing him to take charge as he walked them over to the edge of the bed. They might have been hesitant yesterday, careful to not disturb the careful balance between them.

Not anymore.

They devoted themselves fully into the embrace. Zaeed claimed his mouth and tasted him with a passionate ferocity. Kaidan moaned as Zaeed started to move downward, kissing and nipping down his neck, no longer careful about leaving visible marks.

He pulled back a moment to take off Kaidan’s undershirt, tossing it on the ground. Kaidan held up a hand before Zaeed could resume, helping Zaeed tug off his jacket and sweater so they would be skin to skin.

With a nod, Zaeed motioned for him to lie back on the bed. He settled himself amongst the pillows, goading Zaeed to come forward with a flick of his fingers, igniting his corona to settle around him in a soft barrier.

Zaeed climbed on top of him. “How would you feel about me putting my mouth on you?” he growled out, his voice rougher than gravel.

Oh, yes.

“I would like that a lot,” Kaidan said, looking up at Zaeed, gaze landing on his lips. “Last night reminded me how gorgeous of a mouth you have.”

“Yeah?” Zaeed smirked. “And what if this gorgeous mouth took you apart, one kiss, suck, and lick at a time, to the point where you’ll forget your goddamn name.”

Kaidan moaned at the idea, spreading his legs apart under his steady gaze. “And after? You’ll loosen me up, fuck me as hard as I did to you?”

“No,” Zaeed purred, caressing a hand up and down Kaidan's chest, scraping blunt nails over his nipples. “I’m going to make love to you. Slow and steady, maybe get you to ride me with shaking legs, barely able to find purchase because I already fucked an orgasm out of you.”

Kaidan sucked in a deep breath. "Fuck, yeah, that's exactly what I want." He grabbed Zaeed's hand and placed it on his covered bulge. "So, get started."

"Still think you're running the show?" He asked, slowly pulling down the zipper.

"I thought you liked me in charge."

"I do," Zaeed replied, tugging down Kaidan's pants and underwear and taking his straining cock in hand. Kaidan closed his eyes and gasped, throwing his head back. "But now? I'm the one who's taking care of you. Let go, Kaidan, and let someone else take the reins."

This time, Kaidan let out a whine, tears threatening to leak, the words hitting too close to home.

"I know I always want you taking charge, being the one in control. But tonight, I want you to let go, to let me take care of you the same way I want you to do to me," Regis said, his fingers twisting into a complex mnemonic, trapping Kaidan in a violet glow.

Trapped in a vortex of pure biotic pleasure, all Kaidan could do was moan out Regis's name. A plea, a yearning for whatever his love wanted to dish out.

"There you go. Good job, love. Time to let me take the reins," Regis said, keeping his intense gaze on him.

"Please," Kaidan breathed. "I don't want just your biotics. I can feel your field anytime I want."

"I know," Regis said, cupping his face with one hand, the other slowly running down his chest. "All in due time."

Zaeed immediately stopped working his cock. "Kaidan, I need you to check in with me. What color?"

He must've tensed up, lost in the memory of times long gone.

"Green, Zaeed, I swear I'm green," Kaidan replied, wiping his eyes. "Fuck, you just said something too damn similar to Regis."

He wasn't lying. He wanted to continue.

Zaeed didn't look convinced, moving to lay next to him instead of straddling on top of him. "Talk to me, Kaid."

Kaidan closed his eyes. "Right after we dealt with Saren and we were both sent to temporary accommodations on an undamaged part of the Citadel, we celebrated being alive. The night before Ilos, I took charge and gave him what he needed. But that night? I needed the reassurance that he was alive, and he took the role I usually took."

Kaidan opened his eyes to see Zaeed looking at him with a judgment free gaze, his expression open. "What happened next?" He asked softly, the gravel of his voice helping to ground him.

"He asked me to let go as he pleasured me with his biotics," Kaidan said, blinking away tears. "Wasn't even doing anything like you were doing to me. But the way you said it? God, it was like he was right there. You caught me off guard, that's all."

"Are you sure?" He asked. "I need you to be straight with me, Kaidan."

Kaidan met his gaze. “I’m sure. I want this, but… just keep checking in on me, okay?”

“You tell me to stop, and I will. You say red, and I’ll take care of you however you need me, got it?”

"Got it, love," Kaidan said. "I know you'll take care of me."

"That I will," he confirmed, moving in to cup his face gently. “What do you want me to do?”

“You said you wanted to put your mouth on me? I still would like that a lot,” he breathed out.

Zaeed kissed him softly in response before making good on his word, starting back down his neck, licking and tasting near his pulse. Kaidan grasped the sheets tightly as he continued to make his way back down, one little savoring moment at a time.

He saw stars the moment Zaeed swallowed him down and hollowed his cheeks, taking him in deeply without hesitation.

He cried out when he nearly came in his mouth, his corona starting to flicker. Zaeed pulled away and placed a biting kiss on his thigh, reading him without hesitation.

His biotics always gave him away. Kaidan had high levels of control unless he was in the bedroom, something he was sometimes embarrassed about.

Zaeed always seemed to read Kaidan the best when they were a trio.

Kaidan loved that it was still true.

“How are you feeling?” he asked and he placed his hands on Kaidan’s legs.

“Green, love,” Kaidan breathed, meeting his gaze with half-lidded, blown-out eyes, rimmed by a weak biotic field. “Green,” he repeated, closing his eyes and laying back against the pillow, spreading his legs and turning on his side for better access.

Zaeed spread apart his cheeks, hands gripped tight on his ass before diving in with his tongue. He lapped at his hole, circling the rim, forcing out moans and gasps from Kaidan.

"Please," Kaidan cried out. "Stop teasing!"

He could almost feel him smirk before he plunged in. Kaidan let out a high pitched sound, grasping the sheets even tighter.

Zaeed worked him open with his tongue as Kaidan tried to keep control of his corona, pulsing in and out of pure blue biotic power and letting it wash over him and Zaeed in a jolt of electricity.

Zaeed reached around and grasped Kaidan's cock in a loose grip, a sudden jolt of pleasure that had him nearly coming right then and there. The combination of Zaeed's warm, wet mouth and the grip around him was almost too much, but he didn't want it to stop.

Zaeed pulled away with one last lick. “Think you have enough control left in you to toss me that bottle over there?”

Kaidan blinked at the request before turning back with a deep breath that turned into a smirk, his fingers twisting into a familiar mnemonic that pulled the bottle of lube right to his hand, catching it barely a shake. “Always.”

He nearly launched it across the room instead, but he wasn't about to admit it out loud. Regis would've felt the change in his field and gave him shit over it.

“Show off,” he chuckled. “Doubt you’ll have much left in you after this.”

"Is that a promise?" Kaidan asked.

"If you want it to be," he replied with a smirk. He popped the cap off the bottle, the click loud in the darkened bedroom, only lit by the sun streaming in through the windows. Zaeed trailed a gentle hand down Kaidan’s tattooed leg, tracing the branches. Kaidan shuddered underneath the touch, letting it ground and relax him.

Zaeed pushed a slick finger inside his wet hole, quickly joining it with another. Kaidan moaned, pressing his face into the pillow as Zaeed continued to work him open, slowly, meticulously, stretching in and out.

"Knew you would be tight," Zaeed commented. "But that's okay. It gives me plenty of time to get you ready for me."

Kaidan pushed back on his fingers as a response.

By the time Zaeed pushed a third into him, Kaidan was pushing and thrusting back against his fingers, trying to chase his release, trying to reach that one spot.

Zaeed pulled out his fingers after brushing against his prostate, Kaidan writhing with pleasure. Kaidan whined at the loss and spread his legs further apart.

"So, I'm going to let you decide how you want to get off," Zaeed said as he pulled off his pants, lightly stroking his long, hard cock. "Want to ride me, only getting off with me inside of you? What about me fucking you face to face, as I stroke your cock with every thrust, watching you contort with pleasure? Or, do you want me to rescind my previous promise to make love to you and instead rail you into this mattress," he listed, his voice heavy with lust.

Kaidan loved all those ideas. If they had the time, he wanted them to explore all those options, finding the idea of Zaeed taking charge quite appealing, reminded of all the times that Zaeed put Regis in his place, making his love submit to his whims.

Kaidan never really allowed himself to take that position with Zaeed, always either joining Zaeed in the same position of power above Regis, or being the one who tamed the famous merc.

Kaidan always considered himself a bit dominant, but he also, on occasion, enjoyed taking a more submissive role.

Like now.

Regis always claimed he took too long to trust others. But Kaidan was just as bad sometimes.

Now? Kaidan wasn't about to take away any opportunities to be with Zaeed. Not when a part of him yearned for him in a way that felt so similar to what he felt for Regis.

Maybe he can seek a future with Zaeed, despite the situation that loomed on the horizon, Regis's warnings still echoing in his ears and in his dreams.

"Make love to me. I want to see you," he said, turning to face him. "I need you."

Zaeed nodded. "Yeah," he breathed out. "I've got you, baby."

Kaidan smiled at the endearment, letting out a pleased hum. "Then show me that you have me."

Zaeed wordlessly slicked up his cock. He perched himself over Kaidan and slowly sank inside, a relief and pressure that caused him to moan out Zaeed's name like a damn prayer.

"Look at you taking me so well," Zaeed praised.

Kaidan's heart skipped, looking up at Zaeed with half-lidded, lust-blown eyes. His face slowly broke out into a smile, shining under the praise. The words I love you were at the tip of his tongue but held back.

Once sheathed inside, Zaeed held himself there, resting on his elbows before leaning in to claim Kaidan's mouth with a bruising kiss. Kaidan kissed back, grabbing onto his back and pulling him in closer, plunging his tongue in Zaeed's mouth before the other man could get a chance.

"I'm ready for you," Kaidan said once they broke apart, a string of saliva lingering between them.

Zaeed started to move, thrusting shallowly and slowly, working Kaidan up to deeper thrusts. Kaidan kept his gaze on the man above him, allowing the rest of his walls of control to fall down, letting out loud moans and gasps, nearly arching off the bed.

Kaidan loved being vocal in bed, knowing it was something that Regis loved. Even when Kaidan was in control, he wasn't afraid to let loose and show how he really felt.

Zaeed seemed to like it too.

Zaeed made good on his promise and made love to him, taking him apart thrust by thrust, hitting that spot inside of him with a perfect precision. He held onto him, running his hands and fingers down his back, surely leaving marks on the rough, scarred skin, shaking and trembling as he tried to find purchase.

He didn’t care. Kaidan wanted to make Zaeed his.

Kaidan started to work his cock with every thrust, his biotic field starting to pulse brightly. He was getting close.

“Love, I–”

“You’ll come after I do,” Zaeed said, shutting him up with a kiss, taking his hand away from his cock. Kaidan whined at the loss, but he didn’t challenge the action, letting Zaeed take charge at the very end.

Zaeed started to breathe heavily, coming out in sharp grunts. Kaidan pushed back with every thrust and movement of his hips, chasing his release.

"Alright with me coming inside?" He growled out into Kaidan's ear, causing him to shudder.

"Please," he moaned, throwing his head back. "I'm so close."

"Wrap that field around me," he grunted. "And I'll make you see stars."

Kaidan weakly waved his hand into the barrier mnemonic, letting his field pulse out around Zaeed. Zaeed took hold of his cock, grasping it in a tight grip, slamming in deep.

Kaidan cried out as Zaeed moaned his name, coming deep inside him. He flared out soon after, his biotic field dissipating in a fizzle of blue electricity, coming all over his hand and his chest. Zaeed continued to fuck him through the aftershocks. Kaidan whimpered in overstimulation, causing Zaeed to still his movements.

"Shhh, I hear you." A mirror of last night, Zaeed licked his hand clean, keeping his gaze locked onto him.

Kaidan wiped the sweat from his brow, his hair curling and no longer gelled down. "Fuck, love, that was exactly one I needed," he breathed out, going limp on the bed, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

Zaeed pulled out of him and wrapped his arms around him. "I'm glad to hear that. Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Kaidan sighed in contentment. "I'm good."

He closed his eyes, feeling like he could doze off, not caring about how sticky he felt nor the come starting to run down his thigh.

Zaeed moved to get up. "I'll grab a washcloth. Need anything else?"

Kaidan hummed. "Just you."

"You look like you need more than that," he chuckled, pressing a kiss behind his ear. "Why don't you rest, and I'll take care of you, yeah?"

"Sounds good," he sighed, stretching out. "Think I have some juice in the kitchen."

"Shit, yeah, you biotics need more fuel. I'll be right back, okay? Holler if you need me."

Kaidan made himself comfortable in the sheets, not caring that they needed to be changed yet again. Right as he heard Zaeed open the bedroom door, he sat up. "Wait, we never talked about my meeting."

"We have time to discuss it later," Zaeed said, pausing in the doorway, not stopping to slip on any of his discarded clothes. "Let's enjoy ourselves for the moment, alright?"

Kaidan deflated. "Sorry, yeah, just still on my mind."

"Thought it went well."

"It did, but it's a big change."

"No shit. You're about to prove yourself to the Alliance. Not exactly a small order. Now get comfortable, Alenko, or I'll tie you to that goddamn bed."

"You say that like it's not something I would enjoy," Kaidan laughed softly, turning on his side to face the doorway. "Even if I'm the one that prefers the tying up part."

Zaeed rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I remember your preferences quite well. Rest. I will be back soon."

He walked away.

Kaidan reached for the knitted red and blue blanket he kept at the foot of the bed, wrapping it around him with a sigh. A blanket that Adrian gave them one day, a gift for their eighth anniversary.

The eleventh wasn't that far away.

And he'll be spending it in training. Or on some kind of borderline suicide mission, whatever Hackett was going to throw at him.

Kaidan yawned, wrapping the blanket around him tighter, the citrus scent comforting him as he closed his eyes.

Maybe he can rest, just for a moment.

Kaidan blinked himself awake, still wrapped in that blanket, although another one had joined him, one of the throws that was on the couch in the living room.

He felt a little sticky and sweaty, nothing yet another shower would fix, but he didn't feel the heat of someone next to him in bed.

Instead, Zaeed was sitting at the foot of the bed, his omnitool dim, his joggers loose on his hips.

"Did Kaidan and I catch you off guard this morning?" Zaeed asked, his voice taking on a teasing tone, his omnitool active with some kind of call. “You can’t always have the upper hand, Steven.”

Kaidan couldn't hear the reply. Must be a private call.

Something he really wanted to listen in on.

"Hell, we both have secrets. Know that we've let you in on one hell of a precious one."

Talking about their relationship?

Kaidan made no move to get up.

"Yeah, I said it. Been a long time since I've felt this way about someone. Well, would've been multiple someone's if the world wasn't fucked and the universe actually gave a shit."

Fuck. Kaidan closed his eyes.

"I know. Regis was… shit. Can't find the fucking words. That should tell you everything," Zaeed said, his voice catching on Regis's name.

There was a long stretch of silence.

Zaeed finally spoke up once more. "I don't regret what we had. In another life? Yeah, we could've been great. I'll admit it, you bastard. But I finally found something that could've caused me to hang up my gun, and I was too damn cowardly to speak up about it."

No, he and Regis were the cowardly ones. But selfishly Kaidan knew they wouldn't have quit the Alliance for him.

Knowing now that Zaeed might've slowed down his mercenary ways for them?

It felt like getting slashed by Vrynnus all over again.

"I guess you could say I'm doing something about it now. But we're both going back out in the field, so who knows where we'll take it. Thanks for giving him the 'permission' to read me in. You know he's a stickler for that kind of shit."

Kaidan could hear the air quotes from a mile away. He almost had to smile at the last comment. Yeah, he was a stickler about most things.

Still, Kaidan had no idea what to do. Should he tell Zaeed what he overheard, and tell him all about what he and Regis wanted?

Zaeed was silent for a few moments, only humming in response.

"I heard all about the Spectre Authorization. Kaidan was the one who came up with that idea, but you know how that worked out for them. Did you sign off on it?" Zaeed laughed.

Kaidan did wonder who was involved in that mess. They got very little blowback after the fact. Even Mikhailovich had nothing to say about it during the inspection, and Regis made it a point to keep him and Ashley with him for that experience.

“I know you too well. Secret romantic.” He sounded fond. “Don’t deny it. Listen, I’ve got to go. Take care of yourself, and since I won’t be able to, keep an eye on Kaidan for me.”

There was a short moment of silence. “I’ll tell you the story later. What, did he not give you all the details?”

Kaidan gave him enough. Enough to make him want more, of course.

“It’s a damn fun one. I’ll talk to you later.” Zaeed pressed a button on his omnitool, hanging up without waiting for a reply.

He turned around. “I know you’re awake. Come here.”

Kaidan made no effort to move, nor did he deny the statement. “No, you come here. Where’s that juice you promised me?”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing an insulated cup from the nightstand and bringing it to him. “There. Drink the whole thing. You were passed out by the time I got back.”

“Thanks.” Kaidan took the cup from him and popped up the straw, taking a long drink. “And thank you for the other blanket.”

“Of course,” he waved it off, settling down on the bed to lie next to him. Kaidan readjusted the blankets so that they now covered Zaeed as well.

Zaeed wrapped his arms around him, lying together face to face, fitting their bodies together like the most perfect of puzzles. “How much did you hear?”

Kaidan shouldn't have been surprised he was caught in the act. Can't survive long in the business without being aware of your surroundings.

Kaidan felt his face heat up. “Everything from when you asked if we caught him off guard.”

“So, most of the conversation.” He hummed. “Nothing to hide, really.”

“So, you meant it? About wanting more?” Kaidan knew he had to look vulnerable, his voice quiet.

“I did,” Zaeed softly replied. “We didn’t know each other for long at the time, but you both were different. For the first time, I wanted to maybe think about settling down."

"We also wanted more, but we were too cowardly to do a damn thing about it," Kaidan admitted, not quite meeting his gaze.

Zaeed shook his head, laughing a little. "So good about communication until it came to our fucking feelings."

"At least we're talking about it now," Kaidan offered.

"Yeah, I suppose we are."

Kaidan leaned in for a kiss, pressing his lips softly against Zaeed's. Kaidan parted his lips with his, running a hand through his hair.

Maybe now he'll say it.

An omnitool pinged, breaking the comfortable atmosphere. Kaidan groaned when he realized it was his, glaring at it as he checked to see who it was.

So close. Goddamn timing.

A message from both Adrian and Vik in their group chat.

Vik: So, I have news. I managed to get a fast flight to Earth, and I’m already in Vancouver. Let’s just say I was motivated. If you aren’t opposed, Adrian and I would love to pick you and Massani up.

Adrian: Ditto. Vik can work miracles sometimes <3. Don’t feel pressured, of course. I promise I won’t spend the whole journey interrogating you two.

Vik: And I will make sure of that.

Kaidan turned the display so Zaeed could read it alongside him. “Want to take them up on their offer?”

He shrugged. “Up to you.”

Kaidan: What time? We’re free. Just let us know so I can get a bag together and straighten up the apartment.

Adrian: We’ll be by this afternoon, say around 16:00? Should give us enough time to reach your family’s place right on time for dinner. And Aurelia said she’s making enough as if we were coming down.

Kaidan: Now I have to show up. Can’t let Mom’s cooking go to waste :). See you then.

Vik: See you. Also, how long do you have until your leave is up?

Kaidan: I still have a few more days. Why?

Vik: Because I’m going to teach you some tricks only Matriarchs are known to be capable of doing. Never had the time to teach both you and Reggie but at the very least I can pass something down to you.

Zaeed snorted. “Reggie? And he let Vikram call him that?”

“Nickname from when he was a kid. Adrian gave it to him, and then Vik picked up on it soon after. Regis only let them call him that,” Kaidan said, a sad smile gracing his face. “Something he hated out loud but secretly liked.”

"Would've loved to see his face when they called him that," Zaeed said.

"It was a treasure," Kaidan said, clearing his throat. "Still, I wonder what Vik thinks they could teach me. I doubt I–"

Zaeed cut him off. "Please. I've worked with many asari and most barely even compared to you and Regis biotically. I guarantee that you'll be able to handle whatever they throw at you."

Kaidan shrugged. "We'll see."

Still, he had a point. Kaidan knew that he and Regis both had a lot of potential but were wary of exploring it due to the debilitating side effects of their implants.

And now Kaidan never will find out new techniques with Regis, pushing what it means to be a human biotic.

They were such a single unit.

Zaeed rolled his eyes. "You know you're almost always the deadliest motherfucker in the room. You're just too damn nice to admit it."

"I'm pretty sure Regis had said the same thing to me many times," Kaidan said, rolling over to lie on his back, looking up at the ceiling.

"Hell, I don't know how I would've ranked you against each other," Zaeed said, throwing an arm over Kaidan's chest. "Fifty-fifty odds."

"You know that krogan that was on our squad, Wrex? He asked me if I could take Regis in a fight," Kaidan said, closing his eyes.

"And how did you reply? Don't tell me you were too goddamn nice about it."

"No, I told him I could take him," Kaidan replied, opening his eyes. "And also in a fight. But we came to the same conclusion. Best two out of three. Would've tried to do it after our mission." And we never did, was left unsaid.

Zaeed barked out a laugh. "You surprise me sometimes. I know you're never shy, but I'm sure Regis was surprised at you admitting your typical roles out loud."

When people looked at them, they often assumed Regis was the confident, dominant, in control part of the relationship. Which was true on the battlefield and day-to-day goings in the Alliance.

But Regis rarely craved control in the bedroom. Suited their needs well. Kaidan was willing to take control on the battlefield, but he also enjoyed being in charge and taking care of his partners in whatever need they had.

So, Regis could often be a bit shy in some situations. He'll be the first to take Kaidan out on the dancefloor and damn near claim him to the heavy bass of music, but he'll also be the first to stutter if Kaidan was the one to "make his claim" out in public.

And Kaidan loved it.

"He was, but he didn't mind it. I think Wrex's respect for me went up that day," Kaidan continued. "We had a good crew with us on the Normandy. Small, but close knit. I wouldn't have traded it for anything."

"I know," Zaeed said. "I could tell by your messages that you both found home."

"That we did," Kaidan sighed, remembering the comforting sounds of the hum of the ship, of familial moments between the four core members of Regis's crew, of watching Joker and Regis bicker for the hundredth time about the most mundane shit.

And now home is buried in an icy, empty grave.

Zaeed sensed the change in Kaidan's mood and kissed the side of his neck. "Sorry for bringing it up."

"One day it'll stop hurting so fucking much," Kaidan said, turning his head to face Zaeed. "But the only way it'll stop is if I keep talking about it."

"You won't hear me disagree." Zaeed rose up. "And while I would love to lie here all day with you, we need to get ready."

Kaidan glanced down at his omnitool. "Think we have enough time to soak in the bath?"

"I think we could make it work," Zaeed replied with a smirk. "Go get it ready. I'll strip the bed down."

Already falling into domesticity with ease.

Kaidan wasn't sure how he's going to handle saying goodbye in a few days.

They soaked in the bath for a while, helping each other get clean with a few teasing touches before starting to gather their things for a few days at the Alenko's.

Soon enough, the apartment was straightened up, their bags were packed, and they were lounging together on the couch, lazily watching whatever was live and waiting for Adrian and Vik to show up.

Some time passed in comfortable silence before a knock sounded on the door. Kaidan unlocked it with his omnitool.

Adrian walked inside, clothed in a long jacket and turtleneck. Holding his hand was Vikram, wearing a similar outfit adorned with a long scarf.

Regis would never admit it, but he got his love for making their outfits match from his uncle and his partner.

"Hello, hello!" Adrian announced. "Your chauffeurs have arrived.

"What a nice picture," Vik said warmly. "Domesticity looks good on you, Massani."

"Oh fuck off, Vik," Zaeed laughed, getting up from the couch. "It's nice to meet you, Adrian. Don't expect a damn tip for driving us."

They shook hands. "Wouldn't dream of it," Adrian replied. Kaidan joined the group, waving at Vik who smiled brightly.

"Come here, darling," Vik said, holding out their arms. "It's been too long."

Vik pulled him in for a hug, reigning in their biotic field without a second thought. They must've sensed Kaidan's tightly bound biotics and adjusted accordingly. "It hasn't been too long," Kaidan replied, pulling away. "Last time was–"

The funeral.

Vik cut him off. "I know, but we didn't get much of a chance to talk then.”

“Fair enough,” Kaidan conceded. “I suppose we have a lot to talk about?”

“We do,” they nodded. “We have time to talk now if you’d prefer? Back on your property, I still want to teach you some new techniques, but this is unfortunately the real reason why I’m here.”

Great to see both of them, but once again marred by the circumstances. Vik looked grim, and Kaidan knew whatever news they had was not going to be good.

Adrian said, “I’ll go put your bags in the car, Kaidan.”

“Is this supposed to be confidential?” Kaidan asked, narrowing his eyes.

“No, no, of course not. He’s just pretending to be a gentleman,” Vik waved off his concerns. “But he already knows the basics. Thought you would be more comfortable with a smaller group.”

They know him well. Kaidan relaxed. “Sorry, yeah, that’s fine. The bags by the door are mine and Zaeed’s.”

"I'll go with you, Adrian," Zaeed said, moving to pick up his bag. "Unless you want me here, Kaid?"

Kaidan saw Adrian mouth 'Kaid' out of the corner of his eye. He chose to ignore him. "I'll fill you in later, if that's alright with you."

"Of course." He leaned in and kissed his cheek before walking out the door with Adrian.

A part of him was a bit worried about what Adrian might do on their trip down, always being a little protective of Regis and eventually Kaidan. But Zaeed made it clear during their vid call where they stood.

Adrian respects that kind of behavior.

Vik motioned to the couch. "Shall we?"

They sat down together, a cushion apart. Kaidan leaned against the arm rest. "So, what's the bad news?"

Vik frowned. "Aria was about as forthcoming as I expected."

"So, she wasn't," Kaidan finished the sentence for them.

"Well, mostly," they sighed. "T'Soni made a deal with a Shadow Broker agent, yes, and I know Aria knew why she did. I also found out around the same time this shit was happening, the Blue Suns were working to deal with the Collectors, and Cerberus was seen on Omega.”

Kaidan kept his expression neutral. “And all of this is related? No way this is some coincidence.”

“It’s not. Aria was… unhappy to hear that the Collectors were involved, and she didn’t know about it while all this was going on. I never heard what the precious cargo was, and she wasn’t forthcoming, knowing that it was something I wanted to know. I did hear that Cerberus employed T’Soni and her little Shadow Broker agent to intercept the Blue Suns and their transaction with the Collectors,” Vik explained, their expression tight.

Kaidan reigned his biotics in, threatening to flare out. “Wait, T’Soni was working with Cerberus?! Do you have more than just verbal proof?”

Vik flicked open their omnitool. “I have clear enough footage after Adrian doctored it up for me. Of course, I got this from a friend of a friend.” They winked, but it almost seemed like a reflex. “Feel free to send this to whomever you trust.”

Kaidan accepted the data transfer. “And what did Aria want out of you in order to get the information we wanted?”

Vik’s expression darkened, their eyes coming to life with a violet corona. “My continued service in Omega, except now making use of my Asari Commando skills alongside my medical skills. I’m tired, and I’m ready to retire. She knew it and wanted many more years out of me.”

Kaidan hadn’t spent a ton of time with Adrian and Vik, but he could tell from a mile away how much they loved each other. A teasing, easy love.

The type of love he had with Regis.

Regis mentioned that Adrian wanted Vik to stay closer to home, and that Vik was talking about retiring to Earth “soon.”

The exact thing Aria would want to leverage, of course.

Kaidan wasn’t surprised. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” they waved it off. “My one weakness. Adrian Shepard. She knew it and exploited it. However, it’s not the only way, not that the other option is any better. She also wanted something out of you and your Alliance. What, I don’t know, but she seemed willing to spit out her secrets if you and a liaison came personally.”

A dead end. No way the Alliance would be willing to entertain the whims of Omega herself. Even if it involved a former operative of theirs, no longer how short lived her stint with the Normandy was.

Kaidan clenched and unclenched his jaw. “It’s all a game. And she knows she has all the right cards.”

“Exactly. You can’t do anything about it, because the Alliance is under too much scrutiny with the Citadel Battle and Regis’s death. I’m not willing to become a slave to Omega any more than I’ve already had. No one wins, except her,” Vik turned away from him. “With all this security, the information she has must be something big.”

“If T’Soni is involved, could be prothean,” Kaidan mused in a bitter tone. “But I don’t see why that has caused such a stir.”

“Despite knowing that it was a fucking beacon that got you into this mess?” Vik asked and then tilted their head to the side in thought. “You have a point. Could be something like that. With all the shit that’s going on, I could see a greater interest in learning about the past. The ones that do know what happened on the Citadel and not the doctored bullshit they tried to sell to the greater galaxy.”

Kaidan shrugged, feeling defeated. “We can talk about possibilities all we want. It’s not going to change that we don’t know why she and Cerberus were involved.”

“It’s enough to get started,” Vik said. “Enough to inform your Alliance to cut ties with her if they haven’t already.”

Kaidan glanced down at his omnitool. “I’ll need to make a call.”

“Go ahead. We budgeted enough time. I’ll message Adrian to go ahead and come back up,” Vik replied, flicking out their omnitool.

“Was this a ploy to ‘get to know’ Zaeed?” Kaidan asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Vik only smiled. “You tell me. We’ll see if they are best friends yet or mortal enemies.”

“For my sake I hope it’s the former,” Kaidan laughed. “Hopefully this won’t take long. I’m looking forward to being back home for a bit.”

Kaidan walked into his bedroom and closed the door softly behind him. He sent a message to Hackett’s line, requesting a quick call.

To his surprise, he answered quickly, appearing on the small screen in a casual button down.

“That was fast, Alenko,” He greeted with a nod.

“In Adrian’s words: Vik works miracles. But I’m afraid it’s not all good news,” Kaidan said. He explained the situation to Hackett, sending him the footage and the terms that Aria layed out.

Hacket was silent for a moment after learning about the deal. “You’re right. This isn’t something we can commit to. Maybe if we still had a Spectre in our ranks, but even then, Spectre status only goes so far, especially on Omega.”

Kaidan felt a little bold. “And who’s going to be that for you next?”

“Some N recruits and other spec ops are being considered, but the Alliance feels there’s no one on the level of Regis at the moment, except maybe you. Hell, you’re even considered controversial, since some of the higher-ups know your moral code is quite different from his and is not something they necessarily want.”

Kaidan wasn’t exactly surprised to hear he was a potential candidate. He was well aware of his accomplishments, although being on the short list was unexpected. Strong biotics like him seem to always be at the top of the list these days, now that the Alliance is starting to get a steady supply of biotics who aren’t in danger of having faulty implants.

And yet they always seemed to be clamoring for the strength of Regis despite their shared handicap.

The L2 sometimes felt like a ticking time bomb.

“Not something they want?” Kaidan asked. “Because I’m not as ruthless as him?”

“No, I think you can be just as ruthless if it came to it. But unlike Regis, you haven’t been marred by something like Torfan. He was, and that changed him and you know it,” Hackett explained. “Too many of them got used to having someone like Regis willing to get the job done.”

Not a wrong assumption. Kaidan supporting Regis’s decision on the Citadel is proof of that.

“You mean used to having someone they could exploit.”

Hacket smirked. “Exactly. Listen, we’ll start to blacklist T’Soni and distance some of our operations from her. Slowly, so we don’t spook her. Thank you for informing me.”

“Of course,” Kaidan replied. “Can you also inform Hannah about this? I think she needs to know.”

“Not a problem. Now, Kaidan, time to take off the Alliance hat. How do you interpret this whole situation?” Hackett asked, his piercing blue eyes keeping a steady gaze onto him.

A test, maybe.

“Vik and I both have no idea what brought T’Soni to not only work with the Shadow Broker but also Cerberus. We were thinking something prothean, which could also be why the Collectors got involved. I don’t know how all of this is linked. All I know is that Regis is being proved right about his initial requests about T’Soni on the Normandy,” Kaidan said, careful to keep his tone level. “I don’t think it’s worth risking anyone to get through to Aria, even if I do want to know what started all this mess.”

“And if we asked you to go? To risk everything just so we could get answers?” Hackett challenged.

“Then I would refuse,” Kaidan said. “On the grounds that we are chasing a ghost. It could be nothing, or it could be the exact thing the Alliance needs to be concerned about. We don’t have enough information.”

“And I agree with you. I’ll send out feelers to see if we can gain more information about T’Soni and her involvement with Cerberus. I won’t have you focusing on that just yet. There are bigger fish to fry in their hierarchy.” Hackett leaned back in his chair. “I won’t keep you long. Enjoy your time with your family and Zaeed.”

Kaidan couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your evening, despite what I had to tell you.”

“All part of the job. I wish you and Zaeed the best, truly. Good to see the old bastard happy,” Hackett said, that same nostalgic look appearing on his face.

“It wasn’t just Zaeed and I. It was all three of us,” Kaidan admitted, nearly blurting out the admission. “If things were different…” he trailed off, remembering who he was talking to.

“A sentiment we all share. I’ll get that story out of him one day. All this stays between us. You have my word.”

"Well, I did get the Frozen Pyjak story out of Zaeed, so it's only fair," Kaidan said lightly.

"But you didn't get all the stories," Hackett replied in a similar tone. "I look forward to working with you, Kaidan."

"Same to you."

Hackett ended the vid call. Kaidan stared at the blank holographic screen for a few moments, wondering how the hell he ended up in this situation.

Everything goes back to Regis.

A knock sounded on the door. Kaidan called out for whoever was on the other side to open the door.

Adrian walked in. "Everything okay?" He asked, moving to sit down on the bed next to him.

Kaidan shook his head. "No. And it won't be for a long time."

He couldn't quite meet Adrian's eyes. The gaze was too damn similar to Regis's, their features almost a mirror.

Is this how Hannah felt?

"You're right. It won't be. I find myself trying to call him on our weekly check-ins. I keep hoping I'll see him send me another edited program of mine talking shit about my code in the comments," Adrian started, staring at the wall.

"He didn't spare me from the comments either. You know, he called my Overload edits amateuristic! And his optimizations maybe decreased the power consumption by–"

"0.5 percent," they nearly said together, breaking out into a laugh once they released what happened.

After they quieted down, Kaidan said, "Thanks. I needed that."

"Purely unintentional like most stuff I do, but I'm glad it helped anyway," he replied, nudging his shoulder. "You ready to go? I promise I didn't interrogate your boyfriend too much."

Kaidan stared him down. "And if I ask Zaeed will he give a similar account?"

"Pinky swear!" Adrian said, holding out his hand. "Listen, he made a good impression on me during the call yesterday, and I can tell he really cares about you and Regis. That's all I can ask for. You need someone who knew him. And Zaeed is that person for you."

Kaidan wrapped his pinky around his. "It does feel better knowing you of all people approve."

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You tell me," Kaidan said with a grin, standing up from the bed.

Zaeed was standing in the doorway with Vik as they walked outside. Zaeed wrapped an arm around Kaidan's shoulders, squeezing him tightly against him. "Was about to check up on you."

Kaidan leaned into the touch. "Everything is alright. The news… could've been better, yes, but we have a good ally."

"That we do," Zaeed said, looking at Kaidan in adoration, his mismatched eyes almost seeming to sparkle in the dimming light of the day.

"Enough with the longing gazes, you two, we have a family dinner to get to!" Adrian said, pushing past them and pulling Vik along who appeared to be amused at the whole situation.

It's good to be back with some family, despite the circumstances.

He couldn't wait to see his parents again and to show Zaeed around, and by doing so, hopefully he can finally say those three little words to him under Kaidan's favorite apple tree.

Because he wouldn't be able to share the same spot with Regis any longer.

Time to start to make new memories while he still can.

#mass effect #kaidan alenko #zaeed massani #regis shepard #cleric's writing

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bobathirstaccount · 1 year

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Priceless Ch 2

Boba x fem!reader, slight action/adventure, no smut, bit of fluff, bit of angst

Ch 1

***

“Sexual favors?”

Boba laughed. “I can just fix it for you. Cause you know.”

Smiling shyly, you handed him the broken ship part. You had managed to make it worse with your attempts to fix it. He turned it over in his hands. “Hmm, actually; this might cost you some ‘favors’ after all. What did you do?”

Embarrassed, you shrugged, “Well, I thought I was helping…”

He nudged you, “How about a snuggle?”

You leaned into him and wrapped your arms around his torso while he fiddled with it. “Okay, that’s pretty good payment. Now, just put this back where you found it; don’t get clever.”

You smiled to yourself as you took the part. “Thanks… baby.” You skipped off to reinstall the part as Boba waited in the entryway. He was leaving, but not without a proper goodbye.

You calmed yourself and walked back normally. But your heart skipped a beat when you saw him. He tilted his helmet slightly, “What?”  ”Oh, nuthin’ - I’ll miss you,” you came up to him and put your hands on his chest. He nodded, “I’ll miss you too. It’s only a few days, max, though. Vader just needs…. Uh, someone tracked down.” He clammed up.

You narrowed your eyes. “Is it someone from the Rebellion?”  ”…No..” he murmured weakly.

“Fuck, babe, would you come for me if he said so?”  ”That literally would never happen.” He was unmoved.

“You know what I mean. You’re helping him crush us. We’re fighting for something, here, and you’re just going where the money is.”  Boba shrugged, “How did this conversation get so out of hand?”

“Well?”  ”I don’t wanna argue. You know who I am and how I operate. You still okay with it or do you not want me around?”  You started to cry. “I want you around! All the time. With me. With the Rebellion…” you trailed off, realizing you were making a scene and feeling a bit foolish.

He embraced you. “Please, don’t get upset. Just think of it as I’m going away on business. And, I’ll be home soon.”

Sniffling, you decided to let it go and not ruin your goodbye. You hugged him back. After a moment, he stepped away. “I’ll be home soon,” he repeated. Then he was gone.

***  ”Your boyfriend knows you’re part of the Rebellion?” Your fellow Rebel was taken aback. If only you knew the whole story, you thought to yourself. You swirled your iced drink. “Well, he’s trustworthy, so, it’s fine…” you tried to change the subject, “So anyway, you seen the new guy?”

“No. But like. How do you know we can trust him? Didn’t you also say he was a merc? What if the Imperials buy him?”  You swallowed hard. “He has a code of conduct he wouldn’t break,” you said defensively.

“Everyone says that, but for the right price…”  You shrugged dismissively. You deeply regretted mentioning Boba at all. Damn your excitement. He had made things official by renting a hangar big enough for two ships. Your small airspeeder was barely able to squeeze in next to his Firespray, but it was the thought that really mattered.

She continued, “Don’t go around talking about this. It’s kind of a security leak. And! Don’t tell him anything else.” She grabbed your shoulder seriously.

“Okay, I agree,” you mumbled.

She released you. “C’mon, let’s get seated for this meeting. I heard that they have some kind of big news to share.”

Grateful for the change in subject, you followed her to the conference room.

***

“You understand what you have to do?” Your commander was stern.

“Yeah, yeah I get it,” your mouth got dry. You had volunteered for this, but now you were scared.

“Alright; stick with the others and do your part and we just may pull this off.” He grabbed your shoulder, “Keep your head in the game, kiddo.”

You nodded seriously, gulping a bit. Dismissed, you returned to the hangar where your team was gathered. After a bit of small talk and reaffirming everyone understood The Plan, you loaded yourselves into the ship. It was an old yacht, holding the memory of better times. But it was retrofitted with an exceptional hyperdrive, which was what mattered. You sat next to the New Guy, who seemed keen to chat. You smiled and put your headphones on. You needed to focus.

***

Your team made it to orbit around the target planet. Now you would wait until you got the signal. Your data pad pinged. Curious, you checked it. You immediately went to the fresher and reread the message. It was from Boba.

It was essentially about nothing. You smiled. He missed you. You suddenly realized your head was not in the game. You typed a fast reply and went out to sit with your team.

***

“There it is. Let’s go.” The pilot nodded and took the ship off autopilot. The ship tilted downwards and the ground became visible through the cloud cover. It grew larger very quickly. You looked away, starting to get vertigo.

The old yacht leveled out and landed among a stand of trees. The copilot killed the engines immediately. You sat in silence while the comms officer scanned for any sign you’d been detected.

“All clear,” they finally said. You all collectively sighed in relief. You hung back while the away team slipped out the door and into a light fog. You and your partner looked at each other. You closed the ship up. “Now we just watch and wait,” your partner commented, making your situation feel almost normal. But you reminded yourself you were on an Imperial prison planet, tasked with guarding the ship and its crew.

You engaged in small talk with the crew while you fidgeted with your blaster absentmindedly. The away team had 30 minutes. The time ticked by nervewrackingly.

The comms crackled to life. A coded series of beeps came through. “They’re in trouble. Not detected, but stuck in a bad position with guards around.” You all exchange looks. “They’re gonna go over 30 minutes. What do we do?”  You grit your teeth, “We wait.”  ”But, we could get caught…”  ”We all volunteered to be here. Let’s act like it.” You stood and started to pace. “We’ll give them another 15 minutes… we’re here as their escape, we can’t just leave them.”

“Right,” the pilot agreed.

You continued to pace until someone complained. Then you sat and tried to fidget quietly.

***

The comms lit up again with more beep boops. “They’re on their way!”

You opened up the ship and stood outside, waiting to see them emerge from the fog. You heard your partner take up position behind you.

The team appeared quickly, battered and down one member but up one rescued political prisoner. It was a mixed result. You were snapped back into the present by blaster fire, much closer than you would’ve liked. Ushering the team back into the ship, you yelled to the pilot to take off. You closed up the ship as it cleared the tree line. Blaster fire scorched it.

You were thrown to the side. The pilot was going through evasive maneuvers and you weren’t strapped in. You flew around the ship gathering bruises as the ship rocked left to right, then angled upwards abruptly. You dropped your blaster. It clattered away.

Both hands suddenly free, you were able to grab ahold of a ladder rung. You gripped the ladder grimly, holding on for dear life. The old yacht took fire. The deflector shield held. You thought of Boba. Would you see him again? More direct fire hit the ship as it screamed up towards space and a hyperdrive jump to safety.

Focused on holding on, you waited to exit the atmosphere. Finally the ship leveled out. But it was still taking fire. The shield had finally failed. You worried about the hyperdrive taking damage. If that happened, it was all over. You heard excited yelling from the cockpit. You hoped it was good excitement.

A huge explosion rocked the ship. The ship went dark momentarily, then the emergency lights turned on. Gravity disappeared. The main life support had gone out. Your heart beat even faster. You let go of the ladder and kicked off it, directing yourself towards the cockpit. When you got there, the mood was tense as the calculation to hyperdrive was being run. More hits scorched the ship. The computer beeped; it was ready. The copilot initiated it and you jumped. You held your breath.

Safety. You were staring at your home base world. It was calm, blue and white, with a few moons quietly orbiting. Your rescued passenger swore up and down out of relief. You sighed in relief yourself; it had been an extremely close call. The ship was very badly damaged.

The comms came to life with overlapping chatter on the emergency channel. Everyone quieted. You squinted out the front of the cockpit. Were those ships coming? They were small dots, but growing larger.

“He’s getting away- I’m on him, just give me another minute - Garra II, come in!” You recognized your ship’s call sign. “We’re in pursuit of a Firespray-31, engage but do not fire! They’ve got hostages!”

“Copy, we’re badly damaged over here with no shields. We can’t engage without risking ourselves and our passenger.  ”This is priority one, he’s got the Commander!”

You gasped. Your mentor and friend, taken by… Imperials? Wait. You replayed what you’d just heard in your mind. Firespray-31? It couldn’t be. Your mouth got dry and you started sweating. Shit. The comms officer got the enemy ship up on the view screen and magnified it. Sure enough, it was a red, green, and gray ship coming towards you. What did you do? Everyone was arguing about how to slow him down.

“Frag mines!” Your passenger exclaimed. Everyone turned towards her. “I.. uh… I think this ship is equipped with them?”  The copilot nodded, “Yeah, it is retrofitted with those. But we only have 2.”

“We’ll have to make them count.” The mines were quickly deployed by the pilot, who maneuvered the ship in Boba’s way. Your mouth opened slightly. Was he going to shoot at you? His ship grew quite large and veered downwards to avoid your ship and the mines above. The copilot pressed a button and something somewhere on the ship clanged.

“What was that?”  ”Heat seeking missile I remembered we have. Should damage but not destroy the ship.” It was a risky move. You watched through the view screen as the ship angled towards where the sensors said Boba was.

Flack! He had faked out the missile and the sensors and was gone. The comms officer swore as the copilot scanned for Boba and your Commander. Nothing. You sighed in relief, then became frustrated. The Commander was a big part of the Resistance. He was both personally and professionally important to you.

Your badly damaged ship was escorted back to base. The mood was dismal, but your team’s relative success bolstered it a bit. You debriefed, then headed back to your home planet, a few systems away. Landing in the hangar you and Boba shared, your mind stewed on what you were going to do now.

Boba had found and taken your boss. Did he use you to get the location? Your stomach flip flopped. Surely, he had no need to even think about doing something like that, right? And, should you use him to learn the location he’d taken your Commander to? You might be able to trick it out of him if you were clever enough. But… you didn’t want to do that. But did you have the obligation to?

You went in circles in your mind until you nearly felt dizzy. You decided sleep was in order. You checked your data pad for anything from Boba. You deleted a message from your ex. Nothing from Boba. Sighing, you laid down to sleep. It did not come easily.

***

“I didn’t know he was your Commander. Just a Commander.” Boba put his hands up. You were interrogating him about how he’d found your Commander.

You sighed, “Okay, I believe you.”

“No offense, but I am a professional. And, I have standards.”

“I know, I know… it’s just, when I saw your ship coming towards us, well, it was so crazy to see that…” you wrung your hands. You wanted to ask about the whereabouts of your Commander. If he was okay.

“What. What do you mean, ‘when you saw my ship coming towards you?’” Boba sounded put out. “You were on that old yacht?? Who put you on that horrendous thing; dank ferrick I could’ve blown you out of existence!” He grabbed your upper arms.

You squirmed out of his grasp. “Well, if we had better ships and more experienced pilots…” you started defensively. Boba sighed. You stopped, not wanting to fight more. You stepped back into his embrace, “Sorry. Let’s not fight anymore. I just wanna be happy that you’re back home and we get to hang out.”

“Okay,” Boba said easily, hugging you securely. After a moment, he asked, “Dinner?”

“Sure, I’m hungry.” You kissed his helmet.

“Hmm, more kisses without the helmet later.” He turned and pulled you with him gently. The two of you went off to eat. But in the back of your mind, you worried.

#boba x reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett fic #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fluff #star wars x reader #star wars fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars reader insert #reader insert

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hey-sherry · 2 years

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Sherlock Holmes The Awakened Demo Thinky Thoughts

A bit late, but I wanted to share my first reaction to the Awakened demo! This is essentially an expanded version of what I wrote on the FW discord, with screenshots edited to look nicer for tumblr. I will do a separate post on the extra stuff that is normally inaccessible without Ansel. [Extra stuff post here]

So: spoilers ahead + keep in mind that the game is darker and moodier, I edited some of the screenshots so that they are clearer on tumblr/mobile view.

Sweet sweet concept art, gorgeous intro music, yay! The main theme is atmospheric and dark, giving me very slight vibes of the Sarif HQ track from DX:HR... I mean this in a good way, not in a “they copied it” way. It’s that sort of nostalgic ambience, but deeper and darker. One day I’ll stop drawing parallels to Deus Ex, but today is not that day.

The intro cinematic is pre-rendered and really good; I liked Sherlock's narration and the implication it's all in Watson's/players' hands now... He sounds more authoritative and distant than in CO.

I really liked the visual with the fly caught in the cobweb.

I did not expect this! It's a really fun title sequence and wow, we’re being thrown straight into chapter 3. I too thought it would be London but this is great 😄

WATSON!!! At this point I’m thinking, “Oooh we're gonna play as Watson, they probably don’t want to show Sherlock just yet, I know someone who's gonna be very happy about this o,o” (ahem hem, @lucere-aeresta) I like long dialogues/cinematics so this intro was a treat. I'll have to replay of course but it felt very satisfying to see a chunk of the story here and be introduced to the new characters. There’s a lot going on!

The receptionist

Dr. Gygax!

You can walk around a little and talk to a couple of NPCs. There’s this easter egg - it’s a Lovecraft easter egg (thanks for figuring that one out, Lucere!) The paper itself is straight from Cordona. :D

You cannot pick this letter up, but the message is very clear. May be a clue in the final game.

Who’s there...? BTW this is the exact face Sherlock gives Jon when he plays the guitar too loudly in the CO seance scene :D

OH NO. LMAO! This had me in stitches, and of course I lied. Nice American accent, you dork. The subsequent journal entry essentially saying "Watson tried to act, I guess" gave me a chuckle. I tried! So hard! And in the en-- moving on...

Here’s how the journal looks like now. The clues have updated icons and you can toggle to sort them by type (document, conversation, item, etc.) or the order in which you found them.

So yeah, Sherlock shows up in disguise and a terrible American accent, says the iconic “Guten day,” and then he gets sedated because Watson cannot lie to save his life.

Of course. OF COURSE. Now I know someone who's going to be a bit disappointed we don’t spend much time as Watson, but that's not me. 😂 My first thought -> they heard us cry and wail about the stubble and said "We're gonna make you beg to have the stubble back" Ok, ok, you win. I'm sorry. 😭

(insert half an hour of zooming around with Ansel instead of playing the damn game) This is how the game levels look when you go out of bounds!

Found some of you in the back! And in the cells! :3 (There’s a wall with photographs of the Kickstarter backers, and a row of cells with names and custom faces - although you cannot see the characters very well at this point.)

Right, I should play. The lockpicking puzzles were fun, but I'll admit I found both of them extremely easy. But I am a seasoned adventure game fan and it's a nice little thing to do for that feeling of escaping the cells. The “Mycroft” (custom) difficulty setting does let you change the puzzle difficulty, so we are probably going to face a bigger challenge in the finished game. The settings don’t make a difference in the demo, though.

SHERLOCK. NO. PUT IT DOWN.

PUT THOSE DOWN OH MY GOD

So yeah, I think it’s safe to say he’s a full blown addict by now. Vogel, what have you done?

Ran into the guard three times, got a game over 😎 Confirmation that yeah Sherlock is still afraid of water! I bet he's gonna love the trip to America and boating around the swamps. What could go wrong.

FYI, there's a guard that you need to figure out how to get past. It's not a sneaking sequence, but you need some items. If he notices you 3 times he rings the alarm, and the game reloads

At this point I'm having fun just investigating stuff and admiring the new journal etc., it's all very nicely designed. It's awesome that we can sort evidence by type now! The mind palace facelift is so good and feels more involved than before.

Back to the game... I SQUEALED!!! 😄 duhhh

And again! Two back to back CO references, yay ♥

Well I am a smart detective and deal with the guard with my brain and not my fists. Time to yoink all of his clothes. Where did his body go? We don't ask such questions around here...

HEEEEEEEEELLLLLLL YEAAAAAAAH

ANSEL PHYSICS RESET MY BELOVED ♥♥ never fix this please never ever

(cue another photoshoot)

The biggest tease in all of the demo: THAT EXCLAMATION MARK. Let... me... see... outfits! 😂 Lovingggg the updated outfit screen, so happy there's some gorgeous lighting in there. It looked kinda bad in CO.

Okay, back to playing the game! I LIED, more photoshoots as the inmates scream, cry, and wail all around me. Sucks to be them, I guess.

Okay, Gerda! I LOVE her new design, and her voice actress too! She was so great.

Gerda is the second inmate that we meet. She wants her friend Heidi back and until then she will not talk. The first inmate that we meet is Mauricio Napoleon, it is just a short but entertaining conversation/cinematic. We don’t talk to him any more in the demo.

He does that lil smile as she spits the worst threats at him, it's glorious

Something something Silent Hill 3 (Gorgeous!)

I try to play the mountain goat in every game and the absence of the jump button will not stop me

So I didn't take screenshots of the quite meaty gameplay surrounding getting Heidi back and figuring out what's going on, so here's some thoughts: - The updated crime scene investigation looks fantastic! The smokey green aesthetics are fitting and everything is much clearer than it was in CO. I like that we can see how many variations there are for each 'node'. The only thing I'm not sure about is the first person perspective - Sherlock's close focus mode - because I had trouble seeing what's different in the variations, and sometimes the models would push me back a little bit when they loaded. I'd move away from the node just by trying to see things and had trouble re-positioning... not a great deal of trouble, of course, but it is a downgrade from SHCO. I think the 3rd person mode like with Jon in CO works much better. This is my biggest criticism of the demo. - There was a tad too much running back and forth just to seemingly fetch a few items... this may be polished further, I don't know. It gave me old adventure game vibes where you kinda run back and forth for a few small things lol. - I wished we could use the items more directly and/or assemble things, not just have them as text in the inventory... but I understand that making a new puzzle feature may be too much work at this point - The "three clues" dialogue confused me for a moment, but so it did in CO as well so this may be a ‘me’ problem 😂 I keep forgetting that there are 3 different questions to answer, not that I need to present 3 accurate clues... hahah. - The darker overtones are soooo up my alley! When I figured out what had happened to one of the people in the casket... ooof anyway, time to find and assemble Heidi!

Him <3

Awww, isn't it cute?

BUT IT'S WRONG

Oh so wrong 😂 I did NOTTTT expect this ahahahahhhh Hands down the best part of the demo The mental health aspect of the remake was what had me a little worried, but you know what, I think it's gonna be fine 😂 Heidi is one bad bench, and Sherlock just ACCEPTING he's now talking to a demonic doll and making the most of it is just chef's kiss Love, love, love. We're all mad here.

I unlocked a reward, and what a sweet one it is! Sadly, you cannot change your clothes in the demo. The updated physics make his chain and bag go bouncing like crazy, haha.

And thank

you

for reading! Feel free to send me an ask if you have any questions.

#sherlock holmes the awakened #sherlock holmes #john watson #frogwares holmes #SHTA demo #thinky thoughts #my screenshots

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jodilin65 · 26 years

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SUNDAY, MAY 31, 1998 All I had today was a few chicken wings and some graham crackers, so I’ll soon be having a baked potato. I’m still 122. Been here a little too long now, so hopefully it’ll move on down to 120 soon and stay there for a week.

I forgot to mention earlier that I definitely heard packing sounds before the freeloader left this morning. It was banging around packing something for a good 10-15 minutes or so. My vibes don’t say it’s going anywhere, though.

SATURDAY, MAY 30, 1998 I’m doing laundry now and making a CD. Or hoping to, anyway. It’s hit or miss. I made one CD successfully and now I’m working on another.

It’s getting pretty hot out there and oh my God! As I knew there’d be, to make up for last summer’s low bee count, there are tons of bees! One after another come to the pool for drinks. They’re like flies too, where they’re so fucking brave. They’re not the least bit scared to badger something that’s hundreds of times their size.

El Cocko left early today at 9 AM. One thing I don’t get about our little fucks - if the dog’s really gone cuz she got caught with it and wasn’t supposed to have it, and if he’s not supposed to be there, why is it that she can hide him, but not the dog? Guess they found the dog’s shit in the yard and carport. El cocko may flush his shit away, but haven’t they been inside the house enough to see his stuff? Maybe the teenage boy is supposed to be there, too, and they just assume his shit’s the boy’s shit. Both freeloaders are about the same size.

I don’t have a bad vibe for this weekend, but you never know. They have a way of springing shit on me when I least expect it, and this heat’s gonna stir them up at some point.

I hung a few of Tom’s shirts outside. I figured the heat out there could do a better job than our little dryer.

Blackie’s still in and out. We shared chicken wings earlier.

I’m still exercising daily, but I’m mainly focusing on target toning, rather than aerobics. I’m gonna have Tom bring over our treadmill that’s been at Ma’s for a while. I’ll put it in the music room and maybe I’ll walk to some of my custom-made CDs.

Playing CDs while I’m writing or doing something other than rocking or singing, is gonna be great, cuz I won’t have to program out the songs I dislike. All tracks will be stuff I like.

Later…

Oh, I’m so sick of this hit-or-miss shit! Every other CD’s a bust. I don’t mind it taking time to make CDs, but if there’s gonna be a problem with every other CD, then I don’t want to bother.

If I continue making CDs, I wasn’t gonna edit Linda and Gloria’s older stuff. Just the newer stuff where I don’t like many songs on their albums. Tom also suggested I make a singing CD of the songs I like to sing. That’s a damn good idea, but like I said, I don’t know if I’m gonna bother if the thing won’t record the shit the way I tell it to.

So, our little bitch next door filed her taxes with H & R Block, huh? Got a letter for her here saying they wanted to teach her how to file others’ taxes now that she’s filed her own with them. So, Joely, gonna go to school this summer?

Anyway, all we got for mail today was her mail. Guess our illiterate mailman felt we had to get something in the mail.

Later…

Tom got a pool cover. It was a bitch to get on, but the reason he didn’t get a reel, is cuz we want to see how well it works first. The reel costs more than the cover, but if the cover works well enough, we’ll invest in a reel.

I’m taking a break from making CDs for a while till Tom can get a more reliable setup created.

I knew those fucking freeloaders wouldn’t stay quiet forever. I knew it was just a matter of time. Oh, those fucking mother-fucking freeloaders! Do you know how hard it is to keep my promise to Tom and to restrain myself from going over there and setting them straight!? It wasn’t El Cocko’s gray car, but the company’s getting testy again. They want to see how far they can push me every few months. First an aqua-colored car came in and it sat with the music blaring for 2-3 minutes, then left. All I saw was some tall freeloader, but they all looked the same. So I couldn’t say if it was Mike, teeny-bop, or someone else. I was seriously considering going after them once and for all, but then it left. Who knows how often this car will be by?

Then about an hour later, in a pearl-colored van, out popped Miss Bitch herself. This van stayed parked there for about 10 minutes. Its music was at a soft, reasonable volume.

Do these fucks have any cars or know anyone with any cars that do not have stereos that are all bass and no music? And do they have or know anyone with a less-than-average car? Again, someone over there must have a job connected to cars and car stereos. All the cars are nice, and they all have the same fucking stereos.

I must admit that this bitch looked the best I’d ever seen her (she came out of the van with a stroller) and she’s one of the best-looking mothers I’ve ever seen. I don’t know if it’s drug-induced thinness or what, but she has a great figure. She may have an ugly face and she may not be able to talk or spell, but she’s got a great body. She also had her hair done nice, too, for once. Instead of having it up, she had it down to about the middle of her back. Also, I wish my last name was something like hers, instead of my geeky name.

Anyway, if they go back to their old shit and if I hear them on a regular basis, they’re gonna be dealing with me. That I promise.

They’re like spiders to me. Every time I find a spider, I got the willies for a while. With them, every time they act up, I’m stressed out for a while. I know this isn’t it and I know that if the company banged in, then so will Mr. Fuck.

FRIDAY, MAY 29, 1998 Tomorrow’s Paula’s birthday. She’ll be 31. I made and sent her a birthday card. Using a glossy coated paper, the card came out great. I hope she likes it.

I’m hoping that Melanie will call me any time now to remind me of the appointment I could never forget.

I woke up at 120 pounds right on the nose! Good, cuz I crept up to 123 pounds yesterday.

It’s getting closer to being how it should be weather-wise, but it’s still been quite mild for this time of year. It’s to be 97º today and tomorrow. We’ll have our first 3-digit temp on Sunday of 100º.

At 7:15 I heard music at a so-so volume. I ran to see who it was but never saw anyone. The freeloader usually leaves at 7:30, but I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if that were him. Getting pushy and testy, huh? Well, I’m not going to be harassed by a houseful of freeloaders. That much is for sure. Especially when some of them aren’t even supposed to be there, so if we go back to our old shit here of them desperately seeking my attention, I’ll push for eviction and risk retaliation on their part.

Yesterday, Tom brought home a couple of pictures. One was of mom and her sister Neva from Michigan. They do look like sisters. Another picture was of Ma and Neva with Cindy and Mary.

Later…

Melanie just called. We only spoke for a minute, but I let her know that tooth has finally come down some more.

THURSDAY, MAY 28, 1998 Burning away and making CDs! It’s fun but boring. We got some CDs that are blue on the writable side and silver on the other. We got some that are green on the writable side and gold on the other. He also got a CD label maker, but I doubt I’ll use it. It’s not worth the hassle.

Tom’s gonna try again to pick up a pool cover today. He tried yesterday, but they were all sold out.

In my parents’ email to me, they said cousins Boo and Max were coming down for a week, so if I wanted to leave them a message, do it here. So I sent them a quick hello and asked Boo how she got her nickname. Why would they be going down for a week at this time of year, though?

Although very soft, I heard that freeloader’s music this morning and I better not hear it any louder, or else in goes another city letter (if I can restrain myself from killing him). If the city letters are only good for a few months at a time, fine. Every time it acts up, it gets a complaint sent in.

Later…

Ma says Boo and Max send their love and that Boo got her nickname from a long-ago uncle.

El Cocko has been quiet. Maybe it’s not in yet. Don’t know for sure.

I’m making my last CD for the day. So far, we’ve been having lots of trouble with copying tapes. The CDs are coming along OK for the most part, but there were some screw-ups. One song got recorded twice, and twice I ended up with the wrong track. So I went and CD’d two songs I didn’t care to have on CD.

My allergies “seem” better since upping my nasal spray dosage. Remember, though, things seem to work for me in the beginning.

Gotta step up the action on the weight loss. It’s great to have gotten down to 122-123, but I don’t want to stay here too long. Time to take it down some more.

I’ve been leaving Tweety outside when it’s not too hot. He really likes it out there. He’s quiet now cuz the sun’s gone down, but in the daytime boy is he chirping up a storm!

Blackie’s still very loving and affectionate. He’s in and out all day.

Still no pool cover yet.

Tom’s old car failed emissions.

Mary’s got plumbing problems, David’s got computer problems.

I haven’t been able to tell yet if the freeloaders have changed their security bulb. No, they haven’t. It just came in and no light went on. It made a quiet entrance. Just one door.

Blackie’s watching Velvet now.

Bunny’s in a good mood and the other two cats just don’t get it. They still hang out back here as if they get all the love, attention, and food in the world from me.

Well, I guess there are not so many yards that are safe enough. They’d be hard-pressed to find a dogless yard in Arizona.

The dog vibe I had had in regard to the beautiful freeloaders has faded. God, I hope that they don’t get another dog! I thank God for every second that that yard is dog-free. If there were a dog there right now, it’d be nothing but yip, yip, yip! It’d be anything but peaceful. I know this is purely a dream, but if these freeloaders could stay as quiet as they have been, then yes, I’d love for them to be our neighbors till we move. I’ll keep dreaming while I can, though, cuz all good things must come to an end.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 27, 1998 Tom should be in any second now. He’s gonna get more recordable CDs and he mentioned picking up a pool cover, too.

I just dipped my feet in the pool and spa. The spa may be something I could immerse myself in, but I don’t know about the pool. I’d have to be really desperate. The spa’s always warmer by a few degrees cuz it’s so much smaller than the pool.

I’m still usually weighing around 122, but I’m psyched to finally have my waist down to 29½ and my legs are now under 23. Still got a way to go, though.

The freeloaders never took in their recycle bin from yesterday. I’m sure they’re still there, though, so I guess they’re just lazy.

I talked to Andy. So far, his new job’s going well, but he’ll quit or get fired. I know him.

Got a thank you card from Jen (now that I know she spells that with two Ns) thanking us for thinking of her and for sending her the confirmation card. She also enclosed a picture I’ve seen before of Larry Jr. and one of her. I would never have known it was her, either! She looks like she’s in her early 20s and truthfully, I wouldn’t have recognized her if she fell on me.

We screwed yesterday and he didn’t cum as usual, but it was much better for me. I used the vibrator before he got on top. This helped to get me off easier. It pisses me the fuck off, but I still get irritation down there. Sometimes it gets bad enough that it bleeds. But we hardly ever screw, I said to Tom, and he said that maybe that was why. Just like with the braces. Cuz the braces are there full-time my mouth has toughened up to them. Well, we can’t have full-time sex, nor would I want full-time sex. Too much of anything, be it good or bad, gets to be a drag after a while.

I asked Tom if he’d be upset at my saying no to any procedures to fix me if that were possible since he swears he does want a kid. He said that he couldn’t tell me for sure how he’d feel, but going by past experience, he’d accept me as I am. Just like he accepts my ear, my hyperness, etc. Oh, I’m sure he can get by just fine with our never having a kid.

You know it’s funny, cuz here I am not only blaming others for mine and Lisa’s problems, but I even have my bouts of self-blame, too. I feel like I started this arm-cutting cycle and that somehow, some way, Lisa got it from me. I know this isn’t true, but sometimes I can’t help but feel that way and feel that if I had been a normal enough kid, so to speak, maybe I wouldn’t have had to deal with all the funny farms, foster homes, schools, and pills to begin with. Again, though, I know it was my folks who copped out on me. Maybe I was a bit different as a kid, but I wasn’t a bad kid. I didn’t hurt anyone, and I wouldn’t have hurt myself if they weren’t so negative. They just didn’t want to deal with me, but when they did, they didn’t usually do so well at it. In a sense, they were victims too, besides perpetrators. They only knew what they were taught growing up. They trusted the professionals without knowing they were quacks waiting to brainwash us.

So, this is the last journal that I’ll be writing by hand, then I’ll just be typing them into the computer and I probably won’t bother to print them out. I’m not sure what my new system will be like. Maybe I’ll have monthly files or two months per file.

TUESDAY, MAY 26, 1998 Gosh, it feels like I haven’t written in weeks! That’s cuz I’ve been so busy burning CDs. When I say “burning” that’s cuz that’s what lasers do. Been burning myself too, but one thing at a time here.

Tammy called and we ended up having a pleasant talk, believe it or not. She told me she was never pissed off at me. She just needed space and time to deal with Lisa. Fortunately, Sarah and Becky didn’t get beaten. Just Lisa did cuz Lisa’s not naturally his. I swear that all guys are the same. If they don’t beat or molest their kids, they ignore them. Lisa, though, is having suicidal thoughts and is in therapy along with Tammy to deal with the beatings, but even so, this poor girl’s gonna be affected by this for the rest of her life. She’s never gonna forget it. And what further burns me up is that Bill’s allowed visitation rights. This guy should be killed, but if he can’t be, he should be locked up and have no rights to the girls. Oh, how I’d love 5 minutes alone with that boy! And leave it to my folks to tell me not to judge until I know both sides of the story after I expressed my opinion about Bill to them. Yeah, they ought to love Bill. They all have common ground. They all believe it’s right to hit kids. Well, I have absolutely no reason whatsoever to doubt my niece or sister when they say Bill was violent.

I asked Tammy how she could stay with him as long as she did if she hadn’t been happy for years and since the beatings have gone on for years. Her answer is totally baffling to me. She said she felt it was her fault. How can any mother think it’s her fault that some sick fuck hits her kid? As I told her, she’s not responsible for others’ actions.

Well, at least she’s making it and trying to improve her life and the kids’ lives. I could never make it alone with one kid, let alone with three.

Tammy’s also understandably hurt and angry with Mom for playing favorites. Yes, Mom’s always been into favorites. Sometimes it’ll be Larry she adores, then me, then Tammy, etc.

She says she’s through with Mom and Dad and had tried to call Mom on Mother’s Day, but Mom wouldn’t go to the phone.

She says that Larry told her that if Lisa has any more problems, she won’t be hearing the last of him. What’s he gonna do? Have Lisa taken away? I don’t think so. It’s next to impossible to take a kid from their mother, even if kids have more rights nowadays like they do. Anyway, Tammy’s pissed at Larry for saying she’s a shitty mom when he was a shitty dad. Larry may have a great sense of humor and he may not have beaten or abused his kids emotionally and verbally, but he was never home and was a slut and a half. He even admitted this to me and that’s why he got off the road and into business.

Tammy says Lisa’s upset over Jen’s freedom, which I can understand. I mean, I’d be a bit envious too at her age. Yeah, Lisa’s bitching about Tammy’s rules cuz she sees how at 10:30 on a school night Jen’s running around the neighborhood with no rules or restrictions.

Later…

I finally got to talk to Lisa for the first time in quite a while. She was in Natchaug Hospital for a while. The same place they took me. She hated it there and says it makes her “feel good” to cut her arms like she did. I tried to tell her that there are other ways to feel good and that when she gets that upset she should remember our promises to each other and go listen to music, talk to someone, and do anything but harm herself. Her anger is at her father, not her arm. Her arm didn’t do anything to her. I also told her that things do get better even when we don’t see how they ever could. It’s her arm and her life, but hopefully, she’ll get better and do what’s right. She swears she isn’t smoking, either.

There’s something I don’t get about Paula. If the state took Robert away feeling he was abused, neglected, and molested, then what’s Justin still with her for? Wouldn’t the state feel he was in danger, too? It just doesn’t make sense. It’s such a screwy system. So screwy, that I think it must be deliberately designed that way. If you ask me, though, if a parent fucks up with one kid, they’re gonna fuck up with the others. If she can’t mother one kid, she can’t mother any kids, and if they take one kid away, they should take them all.

See, this is why I’ve come to be so glad I can never have a kid and I wonder how I could’ve wanted one in the first place. Just to go through what my parents did and what Tammy’s going through? No thanks! But I was bummed out yesterday over God’s taking away my right to choose. I know God did the right thing and is just looking out for me. He wouldn’t let me get into anything I couldn’t handle and that’s fine, but what burns me up is that these fucking assholes never tested the DES and these quack shrinks, who were so obsessed with controlling me, never thought about my future, and all the while God sat back and allowed my body to be used as a guinea pig. He let it happen. He let them use me as a toy to be programmed to suit other people’s standards of “normal.” All cuz I was too hyper, wanted the attention my parents wouldn’t give me, and had far-out dreams of becoming a singer.

Later…

As I told Tom, I’m a very curious person who likes to know how things work or why they don’t work, and it’s my right to know what’s wrong with my plumbing if they can tell me. So when I’m 35 I’m gonna go find out. Then later, he told me 35 was too long and that when I turn 34, that’d be a good time to go to a doctor. Oh right! Like he really would go?! That’s what he said months ago, and he’s never gone to a doctor yet. So, I told him I’m not stupid. I know that when I’m 34 he’ll make more excuses to put it off even longer cuz he doesn’t really want a kid. Fine. He doesn’t have to go to a doctor. Not now or ever. I just want to go, with or without his support, with or without his going too, to find out what’s wrong with me. That’s all. I don’t want a kid. I don’t want to make a big deal of it.

His actions just don’t go with his words. They really don’t. We screwed around Sunday, which was boring, but at least he got in there, and he said for the thousandth time how he wants more sex. Yet yesterday he didn’t touch me. He could’ve found the time, but nope. So, even if I’m hardly ever horny and even if I’d rather take care of myself, I hate it when he says one thing and does another. To me, it’s all the same as lying.

Out of curiosity, I asked him how he could not want to go to a doctor if he wants a kid and knows something’s wrong with me. Doesn’t he think it’s best to try to fix something that he thinks can be fixed (he thinks I can be fixed, but I know I can’t be)? He thinks yes, it’s best to try to fix something he thinks can be fixed, but not that instant. Yeah, I know, he likes to put off things for years. Especially things he’s afraid of and doesn’t really want to deal with or change. So now that makes two of us. Now we’re on common ground. We both don’t want a child.

Speaking of kids and how much I hate them in general, excluding those related to me, of course, Tom said he was mean to the neighborhood kids yesterday. He said they were kids he’d never seen before and that he just can’t understand playing in the street. There were a few kids playing ball in the street that ended up playing in our driveway. Right in our fucking driveway! Such rude, bold, brazen fucks! What if our front door was open? Would they just waltz right in and play in our living room? Use our bathroom? Eat whatever was in the kitchen? I’m sure they would! So Tom went out and told them to go play in someone else’s driveway. Good for him!

Anyway, it was a miraculously quiet weekend. I couldn’t believe it!

Mama bitch, who went from being fat one day to smaller the next, wizened up and had her kittens elsewhere. So I’ll be seeing them once they get a little older.

I’m now the smallest I’ve been since peaking at 128! I’m down a couple of inches all around and woke up at 120½!! And I had had a setback, too, where I almost jumped back up to that famous 124. Well, I know it’s a bit fast, but if losing weight the wrong way is the right way for me, so be it. I’m still exercising and firming things up even if it’s not much yet and Tom says my craters have smoothed out, too. I’m also amazed at how regular I’ve been since not eating as much. It’s nice to see the old me slowly, but surely emerging. And what’s neat is that I’m charting my progress. When I lost all that weight when I was 19, I didn’t document it, cuz I wasn’t writing journals back then.

My allergies have been a nightmare! They were so bad yesterday that I thought I had a cold. I was tight and wheezy and had sneezing fit after sneezing fit. Nothing’s really changed since quitting smoking but our financial situation and my weight. I still have ridges in my nails, dry skin, etc. If I had known that I’d have times where my lungs still felt like they smoked, and if I had known I’d get so big, and that not much would change for the better by quitting smoking, I would never have bothered to quit and put myself through those 4 months of hell.

So far, I’ve got 4 music CDs made, one edit CD, and 6 killed. Yeah, I fucked up a few times and got the songs out of cinch. I’d get the last half of a song and the first half of the next song, all on one track. It’s so cool, though, and although it’s time-consuming, it’s totally awesome to have the edits on CD! Can’t wait to surprise Andy with it, but I’m afraid he’ll ask me to make a whole shitload of CDs for him, but no way!

SUNDAY, MAY 24, 1998 Woke up again at 122 pounds. This is the longest I’ve stayed under 124, but I’ve still got a long way to go. If I can ever get there! I practically have to eat just barely enough to stay alive for the rest of my life if I want to be thinner. I was right as to my theory about why crunches and certain exercises won’t take to me. They won’t work, said a fitness expert on TV, till you lose the fat. Yes, just like I figured, I have to get some of this fat out of the way by dropping pounds by not eating much and by doing cardiovascular workouts before they’ll start to work.

Guarding Blackie against the others getting his food has never been easier. This is cuz he now eats inside. He wants to be indoors more and more and I let him in when I’m around to watch him to make sure he doesn’t trash anything or harm the mice. We even got a disposable litter box.

So will the freeloaders pitch their fits today, tomorrow, or Monday? I think it’ll be mostly Monday that they’ll make total fools of themselves. In a sense, I’m sort of embarrassed for these sick fucks. Don’t they know what complete asses they make of themselves? I mean, hey! I’m not impressed. Not with your car, not with your bass, not with nothing, you sick freeloaders!

Later…

The bitch is back, and no, the bitch hasn’t had her kittens yet.

Before I get into the project that Tom and I are gonna work on when he gets up which is sort of an illegal operation, Paula called a couple of hours ago. She’s the same old Paula, but it was great hearing from her since she doesn’t call me as often as Andy does and would like to. She’s got restricted service now and was using a phone card. She cracked me up, as she usually does. She sounded more uppity, too, and even laughed more herself. She said Disability has got her listed as a paranoid skitzo which only comes out when she’s depressed or upset. I was shocked and said, “You mean you have multiple personalities?” Then she said she couldn’t sleep. Whatever. She’s what I call a “funny ditz.”

She beat up yet another girl and put her in the hospital and got arrested. I’m probably one of the only ones she would look out for. She could be rip-shitting mad at me and she wouldn’t touch me, but she could be somewhat pissed at someone else and deck them.

She said she had a friend who died of AIDS, who gave her her furniture, and she thinks her spirit’s in her place.

She has no rights to Robert, her older boy, till he’s 18, cuz she was accused of molesting him. Paula says his father did that. I believe her.

Her Jewish friend is going to “church,” if she died, her ghost would look out for me, diet pills screwed her up, she cut her hair off short cuz she got pissed off at some guy, and sent a letter to me with pictures of her and Justin that I never got. She said she’s been having problems with the mail there. Or maybe our lovely mailman gave someone else her letter and pictures.

We jumped from subject to subject so fast, that I can’t remember every little thing we talked about. I should take notes when she calls!

Later…

Damn! Is Tom ever gonna get up? Half my day’s already gone. I’ve been up since midnight and he was already asleep. He’s had at least 8 hours of sleep, so I hope he gets up soon, cuz I want to begin making CDs. Yes, you heard right. We got blank CDs and the equipment to copy CDs, tapes, whatever. Just think - the edits on CD! Yippee! And I’m gonna edit my CDs. I have so many CDs where there are just one or two songs on them I like. Now I can condense all my CDs.

FRIDAY, MAY 22, 1998 Well, I’m not losing weight all that fast after all. I’m still around 122-123, and this is the longest I’ve held it down there, too. I’ve also been lucky with not being so constipated. They say exercising helps that, too. Guess so.

Yesterday I had much more stamina than I’ve had in a while. I felt like my old self bopping to that aerobics show. Yes, you can see I’ve lost weight everywhere and I do feel better, but I’ve still got a long way to go. Tom feels I don’t need to lose weight or reduce in size; just increase in fitness. Well, I certainly want to do all of the above. So, I shall take it as far as God will allow me to.

Speaking of God, and speaking of our beautiful neighbors, I know God, I know the freeloaders. It’s inevitable, I mean, I just know this weekend’s gonna be hell. God always makes me pay for everything. Even the little, simpler things in life that no one should have to pay for - peace and quiet within their own homes. I also know that not only are these freeloaders capable of lying low for 3 days in a row, but that they’ll use this holiday weekend as the perfect excuse to torment me. Most of their sick buddies will be coming to them, cuz they have a house. Most of these sick fucks live in apartments. I can already tell you what’s gonna happen. Hell, it’s like a script already written out, just waiting to be played out. There’ll be about 4-6 cars, each will blast in and out. Mr. Fuck himself will bang in and out at least 5 times. The bitch and other adults will probably talk so loud you’d think they were all severely hard of hearing if you didn’t know any better. The little animal will be squealing away and zipping up and down the carport in its little car it peddles around. And to top it all off, there’ll be 8-10 kids playing ball for hours.

Yeah? What goes around comes around, you mother-fucking freeloaders!

Later…

Another hour and a half and we’ll see how el cocko leaves. There was no music yesterday that I know of, but he sure slammed that door real fucking hard.

I did the puzzle I got in one day, and now Mom can have it.

Later…

I never heard the freeloader leave. Maybe it left while I was listening to music or maybe it’s still there.

THURSDAY, MAY 21, 1998 Just thought I’d update till Andy calls.

We’re almost at this dreaded 3-day weekend. As I told Tom, maybe I can get out of the party I’ll be forcefully invited to and made to be a part of by going to his ma’s house. I still have to vacuum like I told her I would. There’ll be parties there, too, down in Mexico, but it’s different when you know those people aren’t deliberately trying to bother me and piss me off.

These freeloaders are so fucked, though. They don’t give a shit what I think of their music and they don’t give a shit that it bothers me (although there hasn’t been any yet), but they do give a shit what I think of them. They give a shit that they make sure I know that they’re just as good as whites. They give a shit that I acknowledge and notice their existence.

Evie’s back. Yes, she left me a message a few days ago, so now I’m sure I’ll have the long, daily messages all about boring shit I can’t relate to, but I’ll live.

Later…

Andy called back but was too tired to talk.

I’m going to have a TV dinner, cuz my legs feel a bit weak. You know, that rubbery kind of feeling. Then I’ll cover what we got yesterday.

Later…

OK, if eating doesn’t help, I’ll see if an Ibuprofen will help the achy muscles in my legs.

We went to Tower Records yesterday, but they had a shitty selection. Still, I got a Cars CD, the Judds, Olivia Newton-John, and Juice Newton. There are still others of Olivia and the Judds I’d like to have, and there’s The Dream Academy, Nicolette Larson, and one of Linda’s I hope to find, too.

We also went to OSCO Drugstore where we got a puzzle, mace, a lotto ticket, wax, and a toothbrush since I just dropped the second one down the sink.

We went to the pet store for supplies, too. Guinea pigs must not sell as well out west. They almost never have baby GPs. All I ever see are older ones. We got sawdust, alfalfa, and nibble sticks for everyone, and the mice got a new toy. A colorful little “spaceship” by a brand called Critter Trail. They suck, though, cuz it was really hard to assemble this thing. Their parts are too tight. Anyway, all this thing is, is a little dome-like thing with a ledge they can sleep on. I put some food in it for them. They have houses, wooden burrows, and all kinds of cute things for them to sleep in. The only trouble is, is that the aquarium only has so much space. I also got a bright, colorful ball for Blackie. It’s a soft ball and it’s big enough so it won’t roll under the gate or the old easy chair that’s out there.

This mace I got was bullshit. It’s a combination of tear gas and pepper and it’s useless on cats. Cats move much quicker than humans. Also, it ran out after just a few shots. Well, the new feeding arrangement has worked so far on getting rid of mama bitch, but not White Paws. Unless the bitch is only gone cuz she finally wised up and had her kittens elsewhere. Great. Now I’ll have to deal with all those, too, when they can get into this yard. They can’t be too far away.

Later…

I just realized something about the freeloaders. There is a way I can get an idea of what’s to come this weekend. He usually tells me a “change” is coming, so to speak, by playing his music louder than usual. A day or so before there’s gonna be a party or he’s gonna split for a few days, he gets loud. So I’ll report in if there’s anything he tries to tell me. My biggest worry, even bigger than dealing with their shit, is restraining myself. How could I keep from going over there, beating the shit out of them, and ending up in jail for either assault or murder if I got carried away? I just hope God, who knows my temper, will keep them off my ass like they have been, for all of our sakes. Besides, I would think that these sick fucks would want to hang onto a place to live and not have all kinds of city complaints and risk eviction.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 20, 1998 I forgot to mention that the weekend was another miraculously quiet one from next door as far as we both know. God’s really gonna compensate me for all this quiet time! I can promise you that this Memorial Day weekend will be a whole different story. There’s no way they’ll sit still and be quiet for 3 whole days.

Yesterday I called to thank Mom for the new AC/heat pump. She laughed when I said I wish it could be December or January just for a week so I can test out and enjoy the heat coming out normally, instead of through shitty wall heaters and portable heaters.

Just 12 more days till I see Melanie and this time, she should be seeing less of me.

The day before yesterday I had a TV dinner and that was it. Yesterday I weighed 123½ and had some grapes, graham crackers, and popcorn. Today I weigh 122 and I had grapes and graham crackers and will later have some potatoes and probably something else, too. I took a dump today, so that’s good. Been drinking lots of water and coffee and taking my vitamins. Still exercising as much as I can too, but again, if you looked at me and were told I’ve been exercising for a month, you wouldn’t believe it. Tom said to wait till I’ve been doing aerobics for a month. We’ll see.

I know I’m losing weight too fast and that this is the wrong way to lose weight, but it’s the only thing that’s been right for me and that’s worked. I’m amazed at how well I’ve been doing. No constant severe hunger, but I was tired yesterday. Today I feel fine. I don’t feel weak or tired, and I will eat a little more today. I certainly don’t want to get sick. I still don’t know how far down I can drop my weight and for how long, but we’ll see.

Later…

The two vibrators came yesterday. There was also a porno tape. I’ll let Tom watch that. I’ve never been one for watching people fuck. Anyway, I used one of the vibrators and came in less than 60 seconds. I wish I could do that with Tom.

TUESDAY, MAY 19, 1998 There goes Caddy Kid who I’ve only seen once in the last couple of weeks or so. What? Are we back to blasting by 3 times a day? We’ll have to see what happens when school lets out, but this may be no high schoolboy. It could be a 22-year-old going to a job for all I know.

Paula left a message saying she doesn’t have a phone. Yeah, I knew it was just a matter of time before the ditz lost her phone. And yet she gets close to $1000 a month between her and that kid.

Got another package yesterday that was pretty much useless to me. All it had in it was a blanket, a few throw rugs, and a couple of knickknacks.

Believe it or not, I haven’t had anything but a few grapes, water, coffee, and vitamins in close to 24 hours. I haven’t shit today and am gonna get my period anytime now, so I’m all watered down, but so far, not so good. I haven’t weighed myself yet, but I feel like I haven’t lost a pound. It’s hard, but I have to do this. It’s the only way I’m gonna know if something’s wrong. Also, I thought about it and asked myself if I wanted to be thin again if I could, and be hungry all the time, or not be hungry and be fat. I decided that if I could get thin again by eating barely a bite a day, yes, I’d rather deal with the hunger. It’d be worth it. However, it looks like what my gut initially told me, is true. I think that if I don’t eat, it’ll keep me where I’m at, but if I go back to eating, I’ll eventually keep gaining weight. There is no “right” way to lose weight. At least not for me there isn’t. Starving’s all that’s ever worked for me, but like I said before, I don’t know if the weight loss would keep accelerating like before, once I started eating again. Eventually, I’m gonna have to have a little more than grapes, cuz this isn’t worth dying over either. Well, we’ll see, but I still think it’s now in my nature to be heavy and if that’s so, I’m not gonna put up with all this hunger just to stay big. If there’s no significant change in another day or so, I’m just gonna eat what I want and never worry about that or my weight again. I don’t know if I’ll exercise, though. Again, it doesn’t really do much for me, but maybe I’ll do it just to say I’m doing it.

The new AC/heat pump is now installed. I was right about the times. They came two hours late, and 3 hours’ worth of work, my ass. A freeloader came right before 8:00 and forklifted the AC off his truck and put it by the garage. At 8:30, two guys came and began prepping for the new AC by ripping apart the old one. It sure sent down a lot of dust through the vents (fortunately I didn’t have another attack, but we’re back to the 4-hour wake-up calls) and it sure sounded like they were gonna come right through the roof at some points. At noon, the crane came, and it was cool! First he pulled out some extensions to brace his truck from tipping over from the weight of the crane/AC, then he picked up the old one and set it down (someone came later to pick it up for scraps), then he brought up the new 500-pound AC and using hand signals, they put it in its place. Then they took an hour lunch and didn’t leave till 2:30. So they were two hours late and were here for 6 hours, but it was well worth it, and we survived.

The only bummer to them being here was that they made all that noise and not a damn soul next door was there to hear it. I guess this was a Monday that no one was there, cuz no one came to take the recycle bin back up. Well, it wouldn’t have disrupted their day anyway. They like noise.

It’s gonna be another erratic period for me. Yesterday I had spots for a handful of hours and since then, nothing.

Later…

I sat outside at the table and wrote for a little while. Although cloudy, it’s getting pretty warm out there, so I just came in. Tweety was out there singing till it got warm. He likes to go out and sing in the mornings. He’s a strange bird.

I left Andy a message asking how his new job’s going. He started yesterday. Hopefully, he won’t be a little slut with his coworkers and customers this time! Not a slut. I mean a flirt. He should get a job doing phone sex. That’d be the perfect job for him. He loves phones and next to talking about music and people he knows, he loves to talk about sex.

I’ll also have to ask Andy why Laura wanted my number. She called me (I thought it was him) and she said she hit the last number redial by mistake and got me. She assumed I was someone else calling, she said. After, I thought about it, and what she said made no sense. Couldn’t she just check her messages and see it was me who just called? She called me right after I called there. So I put 2 and 2 together and that tells me that she wanted my number. I should’ve thought to block my number when calling there, but didn’t.

MONDAY, MAY 18, 1998 I’m kind of heavy-headed and groggy right now, but I thought I’d record some thoughts, anyway.

Amazingly, I haven’t heard from Evie, who’s been back from CA for a while now. Is she just busy? Or does she feel I’m too distant and don’t want to bother with her? Is there something else? Well, I won’t contact her unless she contacts me.

Yesterday was a really shitty, frustrating, depressing day.

First, though, we ripped the portable AC out of the back room wall, since in just a few hours from now we won’t need it.

What happened to me shocked the shit out of me. It’s really fucking scary to think that as a non-smoker, I can still wake up with bad attacks. I thought those days were over. You mean, I still have to live in fear of knowing that that can happen as a non-smoker? I thought my bouts of wheezing and my allergies would be gone with the cigarettes, but I was wrong. I still have bad allergies and I wheeze a little every day. I still need my inhaler once or twice a day. Yes, I’m much better overall since quitting, but to have this reality slammed into me in an instant that this old enemy is not entirely gone really freaks me out. It happened at that cursed fourth hour of sleep and it felt like something was literally lodged in my lungs. I had a pain in between the shoulder blades. For the first time since quitting, Tom had to whack my back to help kick up all the goop that was in my lungs. I thought at first I could cough it up in just a matter of minutes. Right! It took closer to an hour to settle the fucking thing. One really can never be totally free of old enemies, can they?

Later…

I still don’t want a child these days. I know that I’d just end up more miserable than I could ever imagine and than I’ve ever been before and that it’s something I could never handle. But this man of mine still says he does. Then why the excuses? He won’t go to a doctor and doesn’t think I should right now, either. But just last month he said I should do something and see a doctor. I’m tired of this man jerking me around, saying one thing then another, and playing on my emotions with this issue. He says we shouldn’t go to a doctor till we have full-time sex. Even if we could have full-time sex and even if we both wanted that, that’s irrelevant. What’s that got to do with my being sterile? We don’t need to prove to ourselves any more that I’m sterile. We both know it. He said he feels there’s a 95% chance I’m sterile. And I know I am. My gut instinct and woman’s intuition have always told me that, but despite his lame excuses and his games, lies, and the way he jerks me around, God made me how I am for a reason. It’s for a reason. He wanted me this way for a reason and if he feels I should be sterile, so do I.

I would love to know what’s wrong with me. I’m curious to know what it is. Is it my eggs? My uterus? But I’m afraid I won’t have his support. He told me months ago that not only would he make an appointment for himself, but that I should do something about my situation, rather than bitch about it. And now I come to find out that he wants us to screw up a storm first? Fuck that shit! And how he wants me to be tolerant of how he is in bed. So in other words, he wants me to just let him do what he wants to do in bed, and put off going to a doctor for as long as possible, if not forever, right? After getting nowhere with this man year after year as far as finding out what’s wrong with me, I guess I can count on the fact that I’ll never know the cause of my fertility problem. All I can ever know is that there is a problem. But did the DES do it? Did the years of different medications do it? What did it? I know God did it, but what method did he use to ensure my sterility?

What with how I’ve always been cursed with sex, and what with this sterility, like it or not, something up there surely has a beef against my womanhood and sexuality. Something’s really wanted to twist and toy with that and boy has it succeeded!

SUNDAY, MAY 17, 1998 Tom and I talked more after last night’s bullshit. I got the same old sob story and excuses. He tried to convince me that things aren’t always the way they appear. He said people do tend to get obsessed with believing certain things about people that they see these things in their actions and sometimes they’re not really there. He has a point, but there’s no way I could be that stupid and that wrong about his playing games in bed and about his fearing a child and not wanting that. I don’t know if he knows his true fears and what he really wants, though.

I just know that the more he wants something, the more he puts forth the effort to achieve it. He still claims he wants a kid. Then why has he shown the same lack of desire for sex as I have? Why hasn’t he gone to a doctor? He still swears he wants full-time sex and that we will have full-time sex. How many more years would it have taken for him to see that by his own will and by God’s will and by fate’s will, there’s no way in hell we could ever have had a full-time sex life if we tried? He’s got too many conditions on him as far as sex goes, and our schedules clash a lot. And the excuses he made in bed year after year just got way too old and too obvious too, as far as I’m concerned.

What’s his latest excuse for not going to a doctor? He says he didn’t see any point in going till we had this full-time sex we never could’ve had. When I asked him why he didn’t tell me when he decided this, he said he didn’t want me to get the wrong idea and think it was cuz I wasn’t good enough. Sorry, bad excuse. Say we did miraculously have full-time sex for a while, there’d only be a new excuse. Then he’d find some other reason to put off going to a doctor.

Then he had the nerve to tell me that our sex “didn’t count” till he was able to get on top. It never counts for him. Before he got on top, he said that it “didn’t count” till we were sleeping in the same room. Nothing ever counts for him. Eventually, his getting on top will never count. Well, I hate to tell you this, Tom, but that was a whole two years ago. It’s been two years since you got up top.

He’s the only one I’ve ever heard of who got hard and didn’t cum, then got hard and sometimes came. What normal, red-blooded man does that? One who’s scared of cumming, obviously. All I’ve ever heard of was guys who get hard and cum regularly or those who can’t get an erection. They can’t cum cuz they can’t get hard enough to in the first place. But any man who can get hard can get off. He got hard nearly every time we got together. Last night was one of those nights, though, where he just wasn’t into it and wouldn’t admit it. I got him rock hard by hand, but then when he went to go in there, he got soft. I just couldn’t guide him in there. He was too soft. We went through this twice before I’d finally had enough. I don’t know if it’s to cover his doing this when I was mid-cycle, or if it was cuz of me, but I’ve just had all I can take.

Just cuz I no longer want a child doesn’t mean that I’m not pissed off by the what-ifs. What if I still wanted a child and what if God would’ve allowed me a child, but not without paying for it and working for it by way of a doctor? I wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell with this husband of mine who’s got his head buried so deep in the sand. Who would’ve lied, manipulated, and conned us out of that child. So, even though having a child is no longer a dream of mine, I don’t feel like it’s a dream God and God alone stole, but I feel that he stole it, too. The only way we’d have had a microscopic shot at a child would’ve been through either adoption or a sperm donor if I was miraculously fixed by the doctors. The sperm donor would’ve been more likely since adoption rules are so strict. It’s no wonder there’s a huge waiting list for adoption and it’s no wonder there are so many kids waiting to be adopted. Yes, the world’s full of unwanted children, but they’re asking for the kind of parents/people that are one in millions. Most people aren’t rich, but they mostly want doctors and lawyers. Fuck the secretaries and homemakers. I still say I’d have given them bad vibes, too, and made them wary of allowing us a child. And also, I’d have been judged by my past.

What I’d like to know, God and Tom, is how many more years did you expect me to put up with this shit? Another 5 years? More? Well, my emotions have been strung out to the max with this sex shit.

Fuck sex! Just fucking fuck sex! I’m so sick of being hexed sexually. Anytime I’ve had sex, there’s always a problem. Brenda and Kacey wanted it 24/7. The guys I was with for more than one night all had their little problems. I mean, they were fucking freaks. Maybe they couldn’t help it and maybe I’m being mean and insensitive, but one had a weenie that was practically invisible, one had premature ejaculation, and this one’s so scared it doesn’t cum 98% of the time. If I had been straight all along, God, how many other freaky dicks would you have sent my way? Well, I’m tired of wacky and abnormal sex and it’s been way overdue that I empty the garbage. My way is that if I can’t fix a problem, I throw it in the trash if I can. Kind of like a defective object. If I can’t fix it, or it’s not worth it, I dump it. I couldn’t say to my cigarettes when they first started to give me problems, “You’re a problem, so out you go,” for 15 years, but I eventually took the old trash out and dumped the garbage. It took me 4 months to take out the trash and dump the NHA, and other garbage. Now it’s time to empty this very full garbage can and throw away the sex for good. I cannot stand it anymore. Whether or not I wanted sex and a child tomorrow, I will never again subject myself to God and Tom’s pain and humiliation. Never will I beg my husband for full-time, normal sex and have my emotions toyed with while he knowingly, unknowingly, or both, plays his games with me. Never will I hopelessly fight him year after year for a child just to see him lie and con his way out of that while God watches on and refuses to help me help myself or to help us. Sex can’t be a problem for me if it doesn’t exist. When couples have fights, they should do whatever they can to remove the source of the fighting. I just did.

Later…

I was right. I haven’t been able to shit yet today and I doubt I will and I’m up 5 pounds. 5 fucking pounds in one day! Once again, I’d have to starve completely to lose weight or maybe eat a bite a day and I don’t want to live like that. I can’t lose weight. I won’t lose weight. Period. Once again, got a problem? Get rid of the problem if you can, and in my case, I can quit trying to force my body to be what it can never be, and get on with my life.

SATURDAY, MAY 16, 1998 That fucking freak of a husband of mine! Oh, I’ve had it! This is it. If he wants sex ever again in his life, he has to do it with someone else. He has to decide whether or not he’s willing to spend his life with me without touching me. I’m sick of his sex games and his trying to pin his problems on me. I’m not responsible for his fears and denial. I don’t know anymore if it’s games, a legit problem that’s out of his control, me, or what. But the point is, he has been a problem with sex since day one and I’m sick of it. I can’t take another 5 years of this shit. I was horny all night and I waited for him to take care of me and he can’t even do that. He’s had his head in the sand and has been in denial since day one. If that’s how he wants it, fine, but he’s not gonna get sex from me anymore. He can get a hooker, a coworker, anyone but me. If he had told me he had a problem up front, which he didn’t, and if he had been willing to own up to it and do something about it, that’d be different.

Later…

I don’t believe it. I actually woke up at 123 pounds. Yeah, but it’s just one of those short-lived, rare moments. I got lucky and happened to shit 4 days in a row and I slept a long time. As soon as I get backed up in shit again, I’ll be back to that famous 124 or higher.

Tom was out from noon to 6 PM today so he couldn’t confirm my bad vibe on next door. Guess there weren’t any music or ball games today, but the weekend’s not over yet.

Tom picked up a thing called Eurosealer. It seals up plastic bags like potato chips and stuff like that.

We talked about getting some type of mace or pepper spray to use on mama bitch and White Paws. Maybe that’s what it’ll take to get rid of them.

We’re also talking about getting the equipment to not only put stuff I have on audio cassette onto CDs, but that can also edit my CDs.

Speaking of CDs, we’re gonna be going out Wednesday so I can pick up some. Some of the old tapes that I’ve had for 10-15 years have had it and I want to see if I can get some of these tapes on CDs.

FRIDAY, MAY 15, 1998 God, are the weeks flying by! Once again, it seems like it was Monday yesterday. And once again, am I gonna get lucky with next door? It seems like that’d take a miracle.

Andy got a job. Still waitering, of course, at a nearby restaurant.

Later…

The kid and some white girl of the same age that probably belongs to the Lopez’s, are out zipping up and down their carport right alongside our house screaming on little tricycles. Again, it’s better than bass or having a screaming kid in your face 24/7, but this thing’s now at an age where it could become a nuisance throughout the 10-13 months we have left here (Tom thinks we’ll be out of here March of ‘99 and I say June of ‘99). Anyway, this thing’s now around 3 and it doesn’t need much supervision anymore. Well, I guess it can’t zip up and down the carport now cuz its sick fuck of a daddy just slammed in. I wonder if it was sent out for the noise Tom was making working on the door. Well, if that’s the case, wait till Monday, freeloaders! They say they’ll only be banging away for 3 hours, but I’m not stupid. I know it’ll be more like 5-6 hours and I also know that someone is there on Mondays, so it’s not gonna be peaceful for them.

THURSDAY, MAY 14, 1998 It fucking figures. I woke up at 124 cuz I barely ate yesterday which is nice, but now I can’t shit. Every one to two days I can’t shit. So now I’ll skip shitting for a day or two, then I’ll be forced back up to 127. Something just doesn’t want me losing weight and when you diet, you gotta diet for life. You can’t just diet, then reach your goal weight, then go back to eating how you were before. What I’m saying is, if I have the slightest chance in hell of losing weight, it could only be by eating just a bite a day and I don’t know if I want to live like that. It’s too hard.

Tom insisted I could do aerobics and that I should try to follow along as best I could. It’s the motion that’ll tax my heart that’ll cause my metabolism to rise and for me to lose weight. Well, I’ll do the best I can, but he’s wrong. The only way for me to lose weight is to not eat. Especially since I don’t shit out half the stuff I eat. It��s my time to be big, now.

My arms are kind of a different story than my lower body, as with most women. Yup, I’m actually like most women where our arms are stronger than our lower bodies. In just a few days after I began working my arms, I could see/feel a difference.

There’s another way to tell the two Cocoas apart. Not just by how one has a little patch of white on her belly, but one Cocoa is distinctly bigger than the other.

I have Tweety outside now and boy is he singing up a storm. I wish I could say he was annoying our now door-slamming freeloaders, but I know how much they adore noise.

The AC people are coming Monday between 6:30-7:00 AM so I’ll have to finagle them around my schedule, but doing that for one day won’t kill me. I thought it’d be a 5-hour job, but the woman who called to confirm said it’d be closer to 3 hours without any complications.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 13, 1998 I have a lot to say today, but a good chunk of it’s the same old sob story.

First, though, my mother didn’t have back surgery today. Instead, she’s trying a 7-day pill pack and if this doesn’t work, then she’ll have to be put out for the needle in the spine. Guess she’s really doing everything to stall having that surgery.

It’s drizzling out there now. Blackie’s still as friendly as can be, but sometimes too friendly. He claws and gives me little love bites I don’t appreciate. Bunny still runs up to say hi and get his nose patted. And mama bitch and White Paws are still hanging around acting as if they’re a part of the clan. They’re so damn determined to be loved and fed, but it ain’t gonna happen. Sorry God, but I didn’t ask for all these cats. Blackie’s enough.

The AC people came to check the ducts and all that and check things on the roof and give us an estimate. The thing will cost $2,700. I had him thank Mom for me when he called her, and I’ll call her, too.

Tom worked on the security door, too, and I saw the bitch come in while he was working on it, but the bitch didn’t see me. No freeloaders have seen me since the freeloader’s December birthday party that I know of. They may have heard me, though. Speaking of hearing, I know they had to have heard the activity going on over here, and if Tom’s right about them giving noise if they get noise from here, then I’m sure I’ll be paid back in some way shape or form. I hope they remember that that means they have to lose sleep and they must’ve when I’d make a racket, cuz why else would God have given me trouble sleeping there for a while? Just for trying? Just for hoping to wake them up and have them get the message? Maybe, but if I’ve got to lose a little sleep, which I’m not anymore by the way, then I will.

Later…

Here we go again. Time to play the let’s-wait-on-Andy game. I told him I’d call him back after I finished working out, and where is he? Tied up on the phone. He just can’t stay off the fucking phone for a lousy 10 minutes! Well, I’m just gonna go about my routine as usual. I’m not putting my night on hold for him. And if he calls too late, too bad. He may not have a life, but I do.

Coordinated my ass! Tom said I’d have no problems doing aerobics. Well, I’ve got news for him cuz I couldn’t do one thing they did. They change routines so fast that I couldn’t keep up with them. Just when I’d get used to one move, if I was lucky, they’d be off to another move. Half the time I couldn’t even see what they were doing from the waist down, too, cuz the camera would be on their upper bodies.

I’ve been on this trying-to-lose-weight trip for too long. I should’ve followed my gut instinct when it first told me I wouldn’t and couldn’t ever be thin again. Guess there is something normal about me after all. Your average middle-aged adult is heavy and so am I. Everything’s going as I predicted. If I could lose this weight, I’d have lost it by now. It’s mine to keep, plus any more that God decides to add on. I’m his little puppet and there’s nothing I can do about it but accept it. I’ll keep doing the isolation exercises cuz they help my back to feel better, but that’s about it. I lost about an inch from the hips and waist and that’s where it stops. I’m still gaining weight and I still have a huge stomach and huge thighs. I did all I could realistically do, I lost the battle which was never mine to win in the first place, and now it’s time to move on. I’m not gonna make the same mistake I did with the woman, singing, and the kid and let something I can’t change ruin my life and drag me down. I can still live a healthy, productive life as a heavy woman.

I’ve got to stop making the mistake of getting cigarettes thinking I can go back to smoking and trying to go back to smoking. For so many years I asked myself how I could get off of those things. And last night I asked myself how could I have started in the first place. And how could I rehook myself? Well, I can’t. It’s just too gross. It tastes and smells like shit and it upsets my stomach. I don’t want my old lungs back, anyhow. I wanted my old body back. But I can’t have it. Not now. Not ever. I’m older now and being heavy is a fact of life for those who are older and who don’t smoke. So whenever that or anything else gets me down, I remind myself of the wonderful things I do have. I have a wonderful husband and life. I have great animals. Well, I wouldn’t consider two of these three cats as great, and Tweety’s not all that great, either.

Later…

I talked to Andy. All’s still the same with him, but at least he’s now trying to get a job.

Later…

Good evening, freeloaders. Yes, it just came slamming in and the security light’s still dead.

TUESDAY, MAY 12, 1998 I made Jen a confirmation card on the computer. I called her too, and she says she doesn’t know much about her confirmation, just that she’s done what she needs to do and is glad it’s over. She didn’t pay attention, she says, but she had to attend classes for two hours every Sunday for a year and do community service. It’s a silly ritual like baptizing and bar mitzvahs, etc.

I called Larry at work, but he was in a meeting.

Tom’s talked with an AC company. They’re gonna come out and give us an estimate tomorrow afternoon.

Last night really sucked. I was depressed, frustrated, and so confused. Once again, I can just accept the fact that I’ll never be thin again, I can go back to smoking, I can take laxatives, or I can stop eating. I know the signs of defeat. I know the patterns and when it’s a no-win situation. This is just like with the woman, the singing, the kid, etc. If I were smart I’d just live life as I normally would and not worry about that or what I eat and not waste my time exercising, cuz these pounds and inches aren’t going nowhere.

Tom suggested I do this half-hour program that’s on Monday - Friday that does high-energy aerobics. He says the exercises I do may shape and tone, but this will make me lose weight and have more energy. Right! Like God’s really gonna let this work for me? I don’t think so! Meanwhile, I’m doing it and giving it my all, just to show him it won’t work for me.

I finally took a shit, so now I can look forward to not doing that again till Thursday or Friday.

Later…

OK, the freeloaders should be tucked in for the night and that should be the last of the door slamming, although it’s still been mild. They’ve slammed doors much more often and much louder in the past than they have been.

The mutually sick Lopezs were a whole different story. Again, thank you God for sterilizing me! Those fucking kids, who usually don’t get on my nerves all that bad being two houses away, were screaming bloody murder, and that, of course, got the dogs going. It was a fucking circus from over there. If only they didn’t get the monkey bars and basketball hoop out back. They never used to play in back. Only up front and you couldn’t really hear them well unless you went outside, and we never sit out front. We use the backyard for whatever. Although, if they hadn’t gotten the hoop, they’d be here using the freeloaders more often.

Later…

And the kids are still screaming their heads off. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the Ms were back, but then again, those could be heard inside the house. Well, thank God these things can’t be heard in here, and anything’s better than bass.

I could’ve sworn I saw Blackie start to screw White Paws. Why couldn’t they both have been males? Now I’ve got two cats’ worth of litters to relocate.

I’m about a week away from doing these isolation exercises and where have I gone? Up two pounds. I should be really proud of myself. I worked for it, so I earned it.

Later…

God, I’m sick of this unavailable shit! Of course, they don’t leave messages and if you do pick up on one of them, they usually hang up. What was 2-3 unavailables a day has turned into 5-6. What? First God got me back from waking up people with prank calls by taking away my sleep and now he’s bugging me with calls to make up for those that I bugged with calls? Meanwhile, Andy gets to get away with it. He never had to have his sleep stolen and he never gets all these fucking calls. Although some girl that wacko Karson knew was bugging him, and Laura’s druggie friends bug him, too, with their calls.

I also asked my mom if I had false memory syndrome, or did her mother have something to do with ballet? She said yes, she taught ballet and modern dancing for years. That’s so hard to picture. I’ve only known Nana as a big, fat, old woman. You’d never know, knowing her as I did, that she ever danced. And all the while she’d taunt me about my weight. As if she was oh so thin herself. I hated her. I loved her, but I mostly hated her. She’s a major reason for my mother being the way she’s been.

She said Papa Joe was a nice man whom she never heard anyone utter a bad word about. I had asked her to tell me more about my grandparents and great-grandparents. She said she’d discuss this with me in person, cuz I’d have questions. She said dad’s like his dad was. Then what happened to Marty? I guess we really are individuals, cuz my dad and his brother are as opposite as my dad and mom can be. Marty and I may be on stable terms right now, but this guy’s still an asshole in general. He’s insensitive, he’s aggressive, and he’s violent. Philip said he fathered a lot like my mother mothered and I believe him. I’ve seen Marty push him around, I’ve been slapped and threatened by him, so I know how he is. Both my uncles have always been one and the same.

The weather here has been unbelievable. It’s cool and a bit rainy too, which Tom says is unusual for this time of year. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear it was February or March out there and not May.

Ma got her card and reacted as I predicted. She said I was lucky I was not near her! She also said it was a clever idea that she may steal.

I looked up last Memorial Day and there was no freeloader shit. Remember, though, things were a bit different back then, so I’m sure I can count on them rounding up kids to play ball for me for a good 3 hours.

Tom swears they won’t get a dog cuz they’re not allowed to. Well, I hope he’s right, cuz she can’t be that weary of breaking rules. Not with that cock over there. It doesn’t belong and I’m sure high school boy doesn’t either. I don’t know exactly how many sickos are over there, but I’ll bet it’s only supposed to be the bitch and kid.

MONDAY, MAY 11, 1998 Wow! Tom sent off for the vibrator. It should get here in 3-4 weeks.

Got lucky again with another peaceful weekend. All I heard were some door slams. No one even played ball. I was shocked but pleased.

There’s a white car at the freeloader’s now.

Gotta do my hopeless workout later, although it may not be entirely hopeless. It’ll just have limited results and will take me forever. This may shock you, but I don’t mind keeping the 124 pounds. If I can lose inches, that’s what matters. Not what the scale says. In fact, I’d like to stay at this weight and shrink. There was once a time I weighed 115 and everyone thought I was 95 cuz I was solid.

We took the legs off of Velvet’s cage. The wooden planks we added just didn’t firm it up enough, so we set the cage on the floor and now I have the most perfect cage I ever had. It’s so much easier for cleaning and filling up with sawdust this way.

Later…

I’m making some chicken wings, but in the meantime, I thought I’d do some updating.

Ma left me a message yesterday saying she was a coward, all afraid of having to have a needle in her spine this Wednesday. They’re gonna put her out, though. This is to hopefully help the back problems she’s been having. I told her needles are nothing and not to worry, but to call me if she wanted to. So she called me up all scared and Dad and I reassured her that she’d be fine. I reminded her that when you’re having surgery, you don’t know it, cuz you’re out of it. It’s afterward and the recovery that can be a bitch. But this is a needle. Not a hole being drilled into her head. So, she just has to lay low for a day or so, but as I told her, her only concern will be being bored.

She said she’d keep me posted in her email to me and she thanked me for my support. She also said she was glad I kept music in the family. I don’t know what she meant by that one.

I also told her Tom’s got a nickname too, which is T-bone cuz he played the trombone in the Air Force. Then Ma jokingly replied saying Dad was an opera singer and she was a dancer. I asked her what kind of dancer and how much of her clothing she kept on (ha, ha).

Mom and Dad also told me that Jen’s having her confirmation so they suggested I send a card. I made one for her and I’ll be giving her, Larry, and Sandy a buzz soon.

Tom went to a banquet today and he, along with other employees from this state, New Mexico, Texas, Nevada, and California got plaques for excellent service. He also got a check for $100, a pen, and a bandanna. He doesn’t do bandannas and neither do I, so I’ll just shove it in the Andy and Laura box. I’ve got some more towels for them and some knickknacks.

In today’s package, we got a Florida panther figurine and a couple of sea otters, too. A glass rabbit candleholder that I’m using as a Q-tip holder in the bathroom, some candles, towels, a wicker serving tray, coffee, a stuffed animal, 3 T-shirts, and a few other odds and ends. One of the tees says America’s Funniest Home Videos. Ma said it was sent for Chicken, their bird, but that it was too big for him!

Once again, we’re still playing the game of waiting for a company to call that sells ACs/heat pumps. Well, we’re not paying for it. His mom is. So with God knowing we’re getting this for free, he’s gonna make us work for it in other ways.

He’s also gonna ��talk her into” getting a chair that lifts you out of it if you have trouble getting up. I asked her why she’d need to be talked into something that’d help her and he said that to her, asking for help would be like giving up.

Andy is so so so lucky. I could never get this lucky, but get this - I was wondering how the hell he expected to get a job when he got around to looking after being fired more than once for sexual harassment. Well, his landlord also owns a restaurant. One he wouldn’t want to work in cuz its business is shitty. Meanwhile, the landlord said he’d vouch for Andy and say he worked for him for years. Now he has a God on his side alright! But God will never let him have love.

Later…

It fucking figures. Just when it “looks” like something will work for me, it doesn’t. I’m still constipated a lot and that’s a big factor in why my weight won’t budge. The potatoes, just like the lactose and other things, seem to work in the beginning, but then they don’t. And also, I said I didn’t mind staying at 124 pounds, not going up to 127 pounds. If I could just fucking shit regularly, maybe I would stay at 124, but I’ve only shit once or twice in the last 4 fucking days. I’m gonna have to get into laxatives here. They’re gonna make me sick, but if that’s what it’ll take to keep regular, that’s what I’ll do, but if I do get into them, I’ll have to take them every day. Or at least a few times a week, cuz that’s how often I’m stuck. Why do I always have to work for and suffer for things that are natural?

SUNDAY, MAY 10, 1998 Yes, the freeloaders did get in last night at just after 10 PM. That same silver car that was there in the morning brought them in. After a brief door-slamming spree, it left. That car was there earlier today, too.

I sent my mom a Happy Mother's Day message on AOL and she replied thanking Tom & Mystery. That's the first time she ever used my nickname/former stage name.

It's also nice that I don't feel like this is one more Mother's Day that God stole from me. I felt like that for a long time. Instead, I feel like this is one more day he gave me to live and enjoy life and my freedom.

Share to Pinterest SATURDAY, MAY 9, 1998 I never heard the freeloader return last night, but I’m sure it did.

These last two days my allergies have been a nightmare. I had to take an allergy pill for it earlier and it knocked me out cold for a couple of hours. Tom slept for a couple of hours, too, in the bed with me. Now he’s out doing errands. So much for screwing today, but I’m not in the mood, and if God wanted us screwing more often, we would be.

Tom mowed and I’m doing laundry.

Yes, my hips have definitely shrunk, but there’s still no real change elsewhere. This is a start, though. I really realize how important it is to burn the muscle. Meaning, to really feel it working. You want to work the muscle till it’s tired, or else you’re wasting your time. The hip exercises are the ones that burn me the most, so as Tom agrees, maybe that’s why they’re showing the most reduction. Sometimes an exercise you see someone else do doesn’t quite work for you as far as its positioning goes and you have to find your own position that works best for you. Well, I couldn’t quite get into a good enough position to get my left thigh to burn, but I could with the other one. I’ve found the best position now, so I can begin burning the left one, but for now, the other thigh’s a smidgen smaller. I’m gonna start burning my arms, although they certainly don’t need the toning that my lower body needs.

Tom’s doing just what I knew he’d do - stalling on ordering the vibrator. He says it’s cuz he now wants to look on the computer to see if there’s a better selection there. Well, why didn’t he think of this in the first place? I asked him if he’s sure he doesn’t have a problem with it (I’m sure some of it’s due to his wait-on-me obsession) and he says he has trouble remembering actions. I pointed out how he remembers things about me that no one, not even Andy, could remember if they were told a million times. He says he’s absent-minded with actions, not with me telling him stuff about me. I don’t know if this is an excuse or what.

My ma didn’t get her Mother’s Day card. So unless she’s lying to avoid giving me a reaction to the confetti I stuck in her card, that sucks. Tom agrees, though, that she did get that card.

Later…

Tom just got in and is now working on making Velvet’s cage sturdier. It wiggles and shakes his water out of his water bottle. So he’ll firm it up so I can give him back his bottle without having to worry about a flood. He’s now using a bowl to drink out of.

He got me a floor mat for my office. Now my chair can glide from desk to desk with ease.

Later…

It looks like our beautiful freeloaders went somewhere today, believe it or not. I haven’t heard one car door.

So much for potatoes cleaning me out. This was the second day I couldn’t shit.

Something was dead-set against me taking those diet shakes. I mean, something did not want me taking them. First the shakes made me sick, then the lactose did. I wonder why? It’s not the end of the world and it’s no biggie, but I still wonder why.

I asked Ma if she was fibbing about not getting the card. She swears she didn’t and will get it on Monday. Whatever.

Tom asked me how they met Yaz (Carl the baseball player’s nickname). Ma apparently did some work for Hillshire Farms. This was in the 80s. Hillshire does kielbasa, sausages, and shit like that. She said that Yaz, being Polish, was president and that’s how they met. She said she’s got an autographed picture of Yaz, her, and Dad together.

Later…

The freeloaders are in. I heard car doors (amazingly just a couple mild ones) and there are lights on in the living room. I also heard someone walking around on their back patio just now. At this hour? I hope it’s not to feed a dog that they brought in with them, but nah. It’d be barking its ass off. Anyway, no security light, so I’d say that yes, the bulb is burned out.

FRIDAY, MAY 8, 1998 Yuck! That dreaded weekend’s here once again. Am I gonna get lucky yet again? Or will there be more to hear than ball games?

El cocko just left on two semi-mild door slams.

I used the new squeegee that Tom bought to clean the back room windows.

My mom and I have been exchanging some fun messages. Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles are both blind black singers and at one point I jokingly said that I heard she went out with Stevie Wonder on a blind date. She said no, that was with Ray Charles.

I told her it was hard to picture her at 20 years old, and she said it’s hard to picture me at her age. Yeah, that’s hard, I’ll bet.

I asked her out of curiosity what my Jewish name is. She’s hunting for it, she says.

I found a way to feed just Blackie and just Blackie only. For a while there, I’d put the food on the patio right on the cement. He’d eat what he wanted while I guarded him against the other two. Then when he was done, in came the other two to finish off his leftovers. Not anymore, though. He loves to sit on top of the recycle bin, so using a dish, that’s where I’ll feed him. He let me pick him up and put him up there today, so it’ll be no problem getting him up there even when he isn’t. As for his leftovers, I’ll take them in, put them in a baggy, and refrigerate them till later.

I’m still not sure what to do as far as my weight goes. Do I give up now? Try to fight a little longer? Stop eating? Start smoking? I just don’t know, but for now, I’m still eating sensibly and still working out. So it seems, once again, that I’ve lost an inch in the hips and waist. Tom says it’s hard to tell if the gut deflated at all. My thighs are the same, but I’ve got a plan to work them harder. Even if I have lost an inch, I know it’ll be right back. It’s like something’s been teasing me. Jerking me back and forth. Just when it looks like my measurements are gonna drop for sure (I’m still the same weight) up I go again. I still say it’s hopeless. Exercising’s never done anything for me in the past, so why should it start now? It’s just like with most things I’ve ever wanted - I fail if I don’t try, I fail if I do try.

Tom had a class to attend yesterday at work. It was all about accepting that there are all different kinds of people - Jewish, black, gay, etc. We both think it was a stupid waste of time cuz you can’t make someone like/accept people they simply don’t like.

Later…

UPS brought two packages yesterday and one today. I’ve certainly gotten more packages in 1998 alone from them than I have in all the years I’ve been on my own since late 1985.

Again there were a lot of cosmetics. I kept some, but why she’d send me ash-blond hair dye, beats me. The color chart said it’d make medium-brown hair light brown. I thought about it for a minute there but then decided against it. If I were to dye my hair, I’d go darker and not lighter. She also sent that sunless tanning lotion that irritated me and made me orange.

There were belts, a scarf Andy may want, a pretty pink/purple sequined cap, potpourri spray, colored tumblers, candles, a flashlight, an air pump, an electric bug zapper, a mini travel alarm, a little rug, a speakerphone, 8 cute little photo albums, a wicker basket, the stand that goes to this chest she sent earlier, and more.

There were fashionable sunglasses with her name on its tag from when she sold those. They were too big for me and I didn’t really like their style compared to the ones I just bought at Venice Beach, but I’ll hang onto them.

There was a nice southwestern wind chime with a cowgirl on a horse, cactuses, and bells with stars on them. There were 3 cushions that went to who knows what? I used two of them for the bench swing outside and one for Blackie to nap on. The two license plates she sent were way cool. I remember them, too. They’re their old MA plates. One says DUREEN, the other ART•DOE. There was a picture of Lisa and another small wedding picture that wasn’t too dark. Two stuffed teddy bears. One said Happy Chanukah. A string of lighted dreidels, a shower curtain (or liner that can be used if ours rips anymore), and a really cool tile board. It’s heavy, in a wooden frame, and consists of 6 tiles. Tiles just like you’d find in a bathroom. There’s a teddy bear on it, a few flowers, and a couple of hearts. You write on it with dry-erase markers. There were also some wooden tulips with a yellow ladybug in a small wooden pot that I put next to the one of wooden carnations and a red ladybug that she sent earlier. There was a Jewish troll doll. It had a Star of David on its little shirt.

My favorite thing she sent was the Brita water filter system. Oh, I love it! No more needing to buy bottled water ever again. As I’m sure I’ve said, the tap water out here is disgusting. It tastes like bleach. This thing makes it tasteless like bottled water. It’s so simple, too. You just fill the pitcher with water and its filter up top takes care of it. All you have to do is change the filter every two months.

As for the collector’s items Tom got – well, it was just what I guessed it’d be. I was telling Tom how I’d never known them to be into coin or stamp collecting and figured it had to do with sports. I told him how my dad was to be a pitcher for the Red Sox till his heart doctor said not to, and how he was friends with Carl Yaztrimski AKA Yaz. I’m sure I spelled his last name wrong, but anyway, Carl was a well-known baseball player who was around my dad’s age. It turns out I was right and Tom got a poster, a picture, and a pin of Carl. However, I was half right altogether. Mom confirmed that Dad was never a ballplayer, but he was friends with Yaz.

In today’s stuff, there was a kite that I think I’ll hang onto till we move. Better to play with it out in all that open space than have it get hung up on a tree here, or maybe the freeloader’s house. Got a picture of Nana and Pa and one of Mom with Minnie Mouse. Also, there was one of Charlotte Rome holding Becky as a baby, with Lisa at around 4 years old next to her. This may be the only picture I have of Char, a lady I always loved.

Got a beautiful denim jacket with shiny stones on it, a 1998 planner, a license plate with flamingos and palm trees that I have by the computer, and funny signs. One says: I’ve been beaten, kicked, lied to, cussed at, swindled; taken advantage of and laughed at, but the only reason I hang around this place is to see what happens next! The other says: God put me on earth to accomplish a certain number of things. Right now I’m so far behind, I will never die.

Lastly, they sent big and mini flags. Does she realize she’s duping me? I’ve got 3 cow flags, 3 ducks, and other dupes. Anyway, there was this really cute mini flag holder where you can put 3 flags in it. I put it up in the back room.

Fuck! Just when I thought Caddy kid disappeared - it’s back. I should’ve known better.

The freeloaders parked out front so it’s not in for the night unless it’s gonna stay parked there all night like it did before.

Later…

And the freeloader is gone. I’m sure it’ll be back between 8:00 - 11:00.

THURSDAY, MAY 7, 1998 El cocko’s off to a late start this morning. It just left. Still no music yet.

Got an email from Kim today. She’s taking Spanish classes and has a test coming up.

Still keeping in touch with my folks every day.

Andy wrote on March 4, 1998, in the original handwritten journal:

Happy belated birthday my sweet angel. You are and will always be my best friend in this whole wide world. Knowing you has certainly enhanced my life. You have helped mold me into the person I am today. You bring me much laughter and joy and wisdom. I love you more than words on paper could ever express. It’s been a long time since I talked to you or even spoke to you. Several of them knew which way to drown in sorrow, but I lived my life under rocks. Xena said that even though know no one taught her about how to dress. She still plays with butterflies and fireflies in the outback. Stevie has a boxset and Lamaris has a train set and I’m Stevie’s sister-in-law and she doesn’t know anyone named Lisa…

Later…

I asked my parents where they lived before the house they had in Springfield before moving to Longmeadow and if I was an accident due to Tammy being 8 years older. I told her I wouldn’t be hurt or offended since most of us aren’t planned. I guess it really does take years to conceive usually. There are usually at least two years or several more in between siblings. In her reply, in mainly small letters, she wrote:

Married in 1951…1st apartment dad in service…2nd apartment in 1952…built willowbrook 1953…married at 19 and dad 20. Larry born 1954…tam born 1957…you born 1964…accident, I don’t think so or I would have aborted…built Berkeley Dr. while pregnant with you 1964…moved to Birchwood around 1977-8.

Then I reminded her I was born in 1965 and not 1964.

Also, I thought they didn’t legalize abortions/birth control until the 70s. I suppose there were ways around that, though.

Lastly, I thought we moved from Berkeley Dr. to Birchwood Ave. in ‘79 or ‘80, but I guess she’d know better if she said it was ‘77 or ‘78.

Later…

Mama Bitch is pregnant again. God, you’re such a screwball creating all these waste products!!

I hear some banging now that I swore was the freeloaders, but their security light’s not on. So unless the bulb’s burned out, it can’t be them.

Later…

Just a couple more journals, then I’ll be setting up a whole new system on the computer. I don’t know if I’ll bother printing anything out, though. I may do monthly files, I don’t know yet. I’ll probably still use plain, easy-to-read fonts, too. I may use my last journal, 160, which is Winnie the Pooh, for a special project. I thought I’d use that for cover info, dates, entry dates, etc. I still have blank pages in 77. Don’t know what I’ll do with them. Maybe use them for letters, but who knows?

They put Tom on a screwy schedule this week. He didn’t go in till 4 AM this morning, then he got off at 10ish. At 3 PM he left for some class that’s to run till 11:30 which he says is a waste of time. Supposedly, they had a meeting to stop jerking him around with so much overtime, but I still say they’ll keep fucking with his hours, along with God’s help. They got him at an average of 50 or more hours a week. I’ll bet that’s why they offer stock to their employees. Gotta do something to hang onto employees you’re gonna fuck around. I kind of like the space, though, nowadays, but they can really run him ragged and not leave him much time for other things.

I made a comment about us getting together this weekend when it’s safe for a real woman. He claims he was in the mood every day.

Right!

Then he goes on the defensive when confronted with the truth of what he’s really doing, and tries to pin things on me. If I tell him he’s controlling things, he says I’m the one that’s controlling things. Hell, if I told him he had blond hair, he’d say I did. Why’s it gotta be so damn hard for him to use his voice to match his actions and to come out and say, “Jodi, I don’t want a kid. I fear it happening cuz I’m not as convinced as you are that you’re sterile and that’s why I make sure there’s no time during mid-cycle for sex or that I just don’t go in there for the most part.”

Then we could sit down and discuss either birth control, or preferably, avoiding mid-cycle sex. And it’s obvious too, that he’s not just putting off seeing a doctor cuz he doesn’t like seeing doctors like most of us don’t, but to use it to his advantage. I’m sure he hopes that his at least “appearing” afraid of doctors will help to keep me a bit wary of the idea of us seeing a doctor together. Well, he has nothing to worry about.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 6, 1998 Still the same weight and size. Just a little longer, then I’m gonna just hang it up. The only way I could lose weight would be to stop eating. Then when I began eating again, the weight wouldn’t keep coming off like when I was 19. It’d come right back on. I’m not gonna live my life like most women do. I can tell you that right now. I’m not gonna live trying to lose weight I could never lose. It’s not natural for your average adult, especially a middle-aged or older one, to be thin.

Bob did get the manila envelope of journal excerpts OK. He hates his cellmate who’s in for child porn (how lovely) and that’s it. Same old from him.

I’m surprised to say that there haven’t been any calls or mail from Tammy. She usually goes right on the defensive when she’s confronted in one way or another with something she doesn’t like. Maybe she’s just embarrassed to be caught lying. Tammy’s always underestimated me in certain ways, so maybe she was shocked and ashamed to be caught on so many lies by her little sister. Of course, some of them are just so obvious from the get-go. I know her style and what she would and wouldn’t lie about or twist around and hype up. I don’t give a shit how much my sister denies wishing she could sing. She does. And she knows I can sing and it makes her jealous, so she figures that it’d make me jealous if she made up some bogus break for Lisa on Broadway (she doesn’t realize I no longer want to sing professionally). Same with Sarah’s hot modeling career. You think she wasn’t jealous that her sister was once a thin model? Think again, cuz she was (although you wouldn’t know it by looking at me now). Well, no one can help her and her jealousy but her, and I’m not about to hold back and watch what I say to someone for fear of making them jealous. We all have our jealousies at times, but people’s lives still have to go on.

I turned down Tom’s offer for sex yesterday. I just don’t want to have sex with this man anymore. Period. But I’ll feel guilty as hell, even if I’m sure he can live without it if I don’t touch him at all. So, I’m gonna do what I can do to avoid mid-cycle sex with him cuz I don’t need his games. As long as he’s not gonna come out and tell the truth, I’m not gonna play games in the meantime. We both don’t want a child, but as long as only one of us can admit that, that’s tough shit.

TUESDAY, MAY 5, 1998 Gonna put the pictures of my parents’ place into photo albums later.

I just got done working out and vacuuming. I also changed the stupid bird’s cage, and now it’s time to update.

I’m halfway through my 30-day thing where I’m supposed to have the foundation built for getting smaller. So where am I so far? Right where I began. Maybe even a pound heavier. My inches may have slipped back to what they were when I began the program, but we’ll see. If there’s no significant change in two weeks, and especially in 4 weeks, then something’s wrong. Maybe then I can really suspect my thyroid’s out of whack, but if it were, I bet God wouldn’t allow it to show up on any doctor’s test, so I can’t treat it and therefore, can’t do shit about it.

Our beautiful freeloaders are still unusually quiet. Their last childish, negative attention-getting outburst was on Easter. I don’t know why. I don’t know if it’s cuz of the city letters or cuz they’ve finally come to realize that their dishing shit ain’t worth being dished shit right back. Maybe I really did wake them up, they put 2 and 2 together and decided they wanted to sleep. Maybe that’s really why God’s been waking me up (to compensate), although yesterday I slept right through. Usually, though, I wake up for a while 4-6 hours after I crash. Maybe I woke up other neighbors, but not them. Who knows? Well, whatever it is that’s shut them up, I know it won’t last forever. They’re bound to get desperate to act up and make a scene again in due time. Hopefully though, if they’ve just got to do something, they’ll use the kids and not music or dogs, but I still wouldn’t be surprised if another dog came anytime now. I doubt it’ll be theirs, though, and that’s the good side of it. I’m sure it’ll be a dog they’ll just borrow from someone on account of me, but that it’ll be gone in a few months, cuz they’re not allowed to have dogs.

I never thought I’d have to throw a guinea pig on a diet, as rodents are supposed to be a little chunked out, but this is overkill. I never had one this fat. He got way bigger than both of us thought he’d get. He’s so fat he can’t even touch the ground with his foot cuz he can’t get it over his fat belly! So I’m cutting out the extras. No more graham crackers, peanuts, popcorn, or stuff like that. Just lettuce, carrots, and pellets.

Typical, typical game-playing Tom. The thing about it is that it didn’t get me as angry as it used to. In the past, I’d be so mad and so frustrated, but I’m just so damn used to his games and lies, and a child just doesn’t mean what it used to mean to me. A good 75% - 80% of the time, I don’t even want a child. Thank God! Anyway, he used one of his old and very familiar tactics (he just “couldn’t” get inside) and then boldly tried to lie his way out of it. Sorry, Tom. It’s too obvious. It’s just too damn obvious you’re scared shitless, and you didn’t want to get in there. How can someone try to lie their way out of something so obvious? How can he underestimate my brain and even think for a millisecond that I’d buy his excuses and lies? It’d be like me trying to tell people I’m tall, thin, blond, with brown eyes and dark skin. Not short, pudgy, brunette, with green eyes and fair skin.

Then he went on insisting he wanted to continue on, but I put a stop to it right then and there. And truthfully, I just couldn’t get in the mood, as usual, these days. There’d have been no way I’d have cum.

Just like I wouldn’t take this curly hair in for a perm, I’m not gonna put birth control over sterility and put myself through all the BS of it just to ease his fears. He’s gonna have to either come clean or from now on, we won’t have sex unless it’s around period time. No more mid-cycle sex with this guy.

Other than that, I love him as always, he’s been great to take me to my appointments and not letting my talking about and being attracted to Melanie bother him. I’m surprised he’s not jealous, but nope. He’s never had a problem with my discussing any woman I’ve ever been attracted to. That’s good, cuz he has nothing to fear, cuz even if she came begging me to spread my legs for her, I wouldn’t. It’s my husband that I love, but I lust for them both. In different ways, that is. A man’s still a man and a woman’s still a woman and while my husband’s got gorgeous eyes and a killer smile, I have always been more turned on by women in general. Not guys. I’d love to see her more often and be her friend, though, but I know that’ll never be. If I could just know that she was just as attracted to me too, and found me just as interesting, and had me on her mind a lot too, I’d be perfectly happy and content with that. I prayed to God for what I wish and like I said, Melie was never so talkative and happy to see me as she was this time. Ever since our phone call, it’s like something clicked between us. But the big question is, is it all in my head? Is it just pure wishful thinking? Am I falsely flattering myself? Yeah, I probably am, but still, it’s nice to fantasize.

Later…

That silver car is at the freeloaders again. I just quickly glanced out and saw the bitch. Yesterday I heard those packing sounds, but my vibes still say they’re not going anywhere. Watch. Now that I went through all the work of copying/pasting their own excerpts for them, they’ll move first. Nah, I highly doubt it, but we’ll see. I mean, the city’s gotta wean them off of them sooner or later, don’t they? I don’t just know that there are some weekdays where no one’s in that house all day, but I do know that someone’s in that house on Mondays, too. This is cuz the recycle bin always gets pulled back in right after they do a pickup.

Later…

Am I just dreaming? Or have we really not heard our little Caddy kid lately? Well, if it’s gone, I hope it stays gone, but as long as they’re quiet with the music next door, I expect God will compensate me with other stereos. It’s just a lucky, unusually quiet spell we’ve had from stereos these last few days, but things have a way of making up for themselves.

MONDAY, MAY 4, 1998 Got to see that beautiful Melanie again! She looked great. Her hair was a lighter red/brown than I remembered, and she trimmed it. It’s not quite to the middle of her back anymore. She seemed the gladdest to see me, so to speak, than ever before, and she was more talkative than ever before, too.

She got a real kick out of a dream I told her I had about her. I forgot to tell Tom, too. In the dream, I went to see her for a check-up and Tom had to go to a meeting and told me to find my own way home. She offered me a ride home, but the house was gone. So then she offered to take me out for pizza, then I woke up. She co-starred in some other dreams, too, but I can’t remember them.

I told her she was lucky she still looked good in braces, while I looked like a geek. She said I didn’t look like a geek. I was flattered she thought so, but getting light blue bracket holders, or whatever the hell they are, was a mistake. They’re a bore. I think I’ll go back to pink. It’s my favorite color and it didn’t clash with my lipstick.

The tooth hasn’t come down anymore, so who knows when it’ll be that she’ll reattach an anchor to it? I didn’t ask, but she didn’t seem worried.

She’s quite the adventurer. She asked me what I did over the weekend, and I asked her what she did, too. She went bowling and hang gliding. She’s got guts!

I told her to let me know if she gets a computer. She said, “OK.”

We talked about our interests. I told her I was into music and art and I guess she’s more the athletic type. She told me she played basketball and did track in high school. Yeah, I can picture that and she’s tall, too. She’s gotta be between 5’ 6” - 5’ 8”.

She has very curly hair and it’s natural. She said she was thinking of getting a straightening iron. I told her that’s what I use.

I really, really, like this girl! She’s gorgeous. She’s interesting. But I can’t see her again till June 1st. I hope she’ll be the one again to call me to remind me of our next appointment, which I could never forget! I just wish I could see her more than once a month!

Got the pictures of my parents’ place. Yup, it’s gorgeous. Nice and modern with gorgeous furniture and decorations.

SUNDAY, MAY 3, 1998 To my utter amazement, things have been quiet around here so far. Today’s subject to change, but as of yet, all there’s been is a little bit of door slamming and I know the freeloaders have had a lot of company as they do on weekends, cuz I’ve seen different cars pulling in and out. But so far, no ball games, no music, in fact, all day yesterday, from the time I was up early in the morning to around 6 PM, I didn’t hear one stereo cruise by all day. Not even Caddy Kid went by.

Tom asked if we could get together yesterday. He didn’t know if I’d be uncomfortable. Yeah, right! Isn’t he supposed to be asking himself that? Anyway, we screwed, but the room reeked of his fear. He couldn’t even get very hard.

Well, whether or not we screw today, Tom won’t cum, let alone touch me till next weekend, and God too, will make sure we don’t screw during the weekdays cuz he’s gotta protect this oh-so fertile woman from conceiving! Hey, it’s just not my time yet! But don’t worry! God will let us join together and let Tom cum right at the right time and have us hit it right when it’s time. Right now I’m just too young and not ready. I have all kinds of other things I gotta do first, but we’ll be parents when the time’s right. We’ll hit it right. Someday.

Like I even want a child? Luckily enough, I find that more and more, a child just doesn’t matter so much anymore. I just don’t know if I want to throw what I have away when all I’d do is end up more miserable for sure. As soon as the curiosity and excitement of carrying, delivering, and seeing that newborn wore off, I’d become totally depressed once the reality of how trapped I was set in. And once I realized all that I had lost. No freedom to do as I please whenever I please. Fuck not having to worry about maintaining a schedule. Fuck having time alone with my husband. If I think not being able to sleep with him is so bad, imagine how shitty it'd be not to even be able to sit down and have a 5-minute talk with him.

To say more about how shitty things were Friday, just when I think I’ve curbed my fits where I knock things around in my rage/frustration, yeah right! I was lying face down in bed at one point when I let God get the better of me for adding inches to me for rebelling against how he wants my body when I flung my arm out and smashed my beautiful cactus/flower bowl, nearly broke the lamp that’s there permanently (if it weren’t for Tom, I’d be having to throw it away, but he fixed it), and got coffee all over the wall. That included my Bugs Bunny wall art. It’s amazing the dog mug didn’t smash.

Yet through it all, Tom still loves me and wants to be with me forever. Yes, I’m so blessed. How dare I ask for more? How could I even ask for more?

When we discussed how I feel like such a failure, he told me to compare myself to Andy. Andy’s a good person, yet where has his life gone since he left Springfield? I know I’ve made many accomplishments, but I still feel like nothing’s good enough. Nothing I do/have is ever enough to satisfy me. Tom says that’s good. Keeps me working towards things. He’s right, though, about my being successful, even if I don’t always feel it. Andy’s life is pretty much the same as it’s been since I’ve known him. Tammy’s just starting over at 41 years old. And her life ended at 24 when she had Lisa. That’s how it usually works. Since having those kids, that’s what her life’s been about. Just kids, Bill, a little bit of work on the side, and that’s it. And it’s still the same. Only difference is that it’s Mark, instead of Bill.

Before quitting smoking, I never would’ve thought that once I was home free I’d wonder if I made a mistake by quitting. I always thought that once I got to where I wasn’t dying for a cigarette every 5 minutes I’d never ever in a million years consider smoking again. But I am. I also thought quitting would boost my self-confidence big time. Tom said it’s normal to wonder if we did the right thing, and if I do question if I should’ve bothered quitting, it’s cuz I wonder - what would I weigh right now if I didn’t? Would I still be around 108? Down to 100? Where I am now? Or would I be around 115? Guess I’ll never know for sure, but it’s pretty logical to assume that no, I wouldn’t be 124 pounds.

Later…

I just took a bath and soon I’ll do my nails.

Can’t wait to see Melie tomorrow! Of course, if God would’ve let this exercise program work for me, she’d be seeing a slightly smaller version of me, but instead, she’ll be seeing a slightly bigger version of me. I’m not gonna let God win and give up this time, though. I’ll keep getting bigger and bigger, but I’m not gonna stop working out.

Tom found me a font editor (as part of our bet as to when the packages would arrive, and the kind of bet I knew he’d be willing to keep) that works not perfectly, but better than any of the other font editors he’s gotten. I was able to weed through and delete most of the duplicate fonts or fonts I don’t like.

Speaking of packages, we’ve got 4-5 of them on their way and an envelope of pictures and something for Tom.

Today I’m gonna do some proofreading. If I was smart, I’d proofread all the way up to around journal 115, cuz I did find some errors in some of the later ones when I was copying/pasting excerpts for the freeloaders. I’ll probably just leave it as is, though, and only go for fixing the ones that I know are bad for sure.

Yeah, good morning freeloaders (it just slammed its door and I just saw it pulling out. It’ll be back soon).

Later…

The sex we just had was very predictable. I knew he wouldn’t cum. Not at this time. Although, maybe if I’d remembered to turn the cooler on he would’ve. It was awfully hot and he seemed awfully close. So, unless it was for show to try to prove me wrong about saying he’s scared, is there some far-out chance that what I’ve been “seeing” every month is true? Could I really be OK? Is God just waiting for something? Nah, cuz I don’t “feel” it. I’d know if my plumbing worked. My woman’s intuition would tell me so if it did work. I can’t ever see a child in the picture, and I know that’s not something I could ever handle. I’m perfectly content nowadays to just keep things the way they are. I don’t want anything stirring up all I’ve worked so hard to achieve. And as usual, I didn’t get off. Again, I don’t know if it’s age or what, but I’m definitely not as horny as I once was (which is OK) and when I am, it’s usually when he’s not around, and it’s Melanie that’s on my mind.

SATURDAY, MAY 2, 1998 Yesterday turned out to be a shitty day in the end there. Inch loss guaranteed in 30 days? More like inch gain guaranteed in 10 days! I not only gained a pound but gained an inch, too. Finally, I said fuck it, I’m not gonna be insulted by working out just to get bigger. I’m sure this program and these exercises do work, it’s just that something up there won’t let my body take to these exercises. It’s just like with the hair removal system. It probably does work. God just won’t let it work for me. As Tom pointed out, a big factor in why I was thin for a while there, was cuz of all the worrying I was doing over money and shit like that and that takes a lot of energy being a bundle of nerves and it burns calories. So I’ll be a “happy fatso” cuz I’m not about to be humiliated anymore by having my efforts rewarded with additional inches.

FRIDAY, MAY 1, 1998 I have an awful lot to say this time. My mom has got 4 boxes on their way, plus something of value for Tom coming via regular mail in an envelope. Wow! That’s a lot. Then she says she’ll have another box going out soon, too.

That shit of a sister of mine should get my letter today or tomorrow if she hasn’t already, so who knows what “fuck you” messages she’ll leave me via phone or AOL? When she’s been had, or when you tell her something she doesn’t want to hear, whether it’s true or not, she gets nasty and makes up all kinds of stories/lies. She’s gonna be fuming when she reads this letter. I only hope she doesn’t take her anger out on the kids.

Kim’s taking Spanish classes, so she and I have been sending each other messages in Spanish.

Last night I had a good 5 hours of fun with the freeloaders. My original compromise with Tom was that I wouldn’t lay a hand on them. Instead, they’d get two eggs and a letter if they’re still here when we go. I decided that rather than send them a 2- to 3-page letter I’d really give them and their sick friends their reading pleasure by sending them everything I ever wrote about them. Within reason, of course. I have small hands and cannot hold two eggs so easily in one hand while the other opened the car door, so it’d take too much time to open the door with one hand (I’d have one egg in the other hand), then pick up the other egg, throw them, then turn around and reach for the manila envelope that’ll contain my journal excerpts on them, and toss that. So, I’m copying and pasting into a file, all these excerpts, then I’m cutting out names, etc. I know the laws, though, and that names or not, threats or not, the pigs can’t do shit. They don’t do shit till shit’s been done. They don’t act on talk or letters, or else the bulk of the population would be in deep shit.

Once I print these pages out, I’m gonna wire bind them, and I was gonna have the cover page say something like: Everything I ever wrote in my journals about you assholes while we were neighbors, but Tom said not to identify myself. I’m sure it’ll be rather obvious to them who I am. Again, I’m not worried and know what the law entails, but I’ll still watch what I say. I changed, for example, the word “bottle” to “seahorse.” Did the same for the plural versions, too. So I’m fessing to throwing a seahorse over the wall and into their carport. Now, the freeloader will know exactly what I really mean, but from a legal standpoint, there’s nothing that can be done. Tom says that we’re the only neighbors they had at the time (1996+) that they had problems with since they’re chummy with the people next to them on their other side, and since most people wouldn’t consider houses across from them to be their neighbors. Like I said, though, it’ll be fine. The freeloaders may be worth the fun of copying/pasting all the wonderful things I’ve had to say about them, but they’re not worth the postage. So I’ll put the shit in a manila envelope and put their address on both sides, so it can be seen no matter which side it lands on, as I throw it up their driveway. Wish I could be there to see their reactions! And I know that they, and their sick pals, will read away! Yeah, they should get a kick out of it. Maybe send chills up their spines once they realize just how closely I watched/analyzed them and their antics.

So the freeloaders are lovey-dovey with the Lopezs? (that’s their name according to what we learned at the library, though they’re blond and not Hispanic-looking). How fitting, though. I always did say that the Lopezs were complete scum to treat their dogs the way they do, they were assholes to that woman in back of us, so they’re good for each other. I mean, how utterly cute. Tom says he sees them chatting a lot and that the bitch has even been seen getting out of their car. Well, they can have happy lives together! Assholes should be with other assholes.

In other news, I have mixed emotions about how abnormal, different, freakish, and limited I am. I usually do, though, don’t I? I was gonna get into it now, but I think I’ll wait and get into it some other time.

Later…

Half an hour till the freeloader leaves. It’s been leaving at 7:30 for the last couple of mornings. I am so utterly amazed that there haven’t been more ball games than there have been. I really thought that’d be close to a daily thing. It’s May now, so by the end of July, I expect the dog to be here.

I also expect to see my worst fears confirmed in 20 more days, too. I’ve been sticking to doing these exercises every day and I haven’t changed a bit. Just when I thought I would, nope. I’m still the same weight, the same measurements. I know nothing’s wrong with me or else I’d have symptoms saying so, so this tells me that there really is something up there that wants me fat. Along with nature. It isn’t in your average adult’s nature to be thin. That’s why most adults are fat. It’s natural for my body, as a non-smoker, to weigh 124. And nature can’t be altered all that well, trust me.

Sometimes I’m back to my old self - not hungry most of the time. But other times, I could eat non-stop, so I really have to control myself and make sure I eat little and it’s been months now since I’ve been back to my old eating habits of not eating much. Instead of my body adapting to the little amount of food it gets, it stays hungry. I’m always hungry. But like I said, I have to just live with it, cuz if I eat every time I’m hungry, I’ll have food in my mouth about as often as I used to have a cigarette in my mouth.

Tom and I were talking earlier about how out of shape I’ve gotten. Here I am a non-smoker, yet I got so out of breath walking up this little hill on the beach when we were in CA. So God really is sparing me from shit I can’t handle after all, cuz if I can’t even walk up a hill, I can’t have a baby. I still have a lot of hyper energy, but that’s about it. Maybe if I keep exercising anyway after the 30-day fat/inch loss guarantee, my psychological knowledge of knowing I’m exercising daily and putting forth the effort, will at least increase my stamina and make me feel better, if it won’t decrease my weight/fat/inches.

As I said earlier, I still like and hate myself and the way I am, if that makes any sense. I wonder, though, why did God make me so damn incompetent? There’s got to be a reason why he made me like I am and why my life is what it’s like. It’s both wonderful and pitiful. I mean, I can’t even sleep with my own goddamn husband, that’s how abnormal I am. It’s like the more I fight to do what’s common/normal, the more I can’t, but the things that most people can’t do, come easily to me.

I admitted to Tom that I faked orgasms with him lately. He said he loves and accepts me as I am and wants to be with me forever, but that it bothered him most that I lied. Well, we all do it every now and then. He should know. And I think he only said it bothers him as a cover for his own fibs pertaining to sex, but nonetheless, I did what I thought was best at the time. What I didn’t tell him was that I prefer to just quickly and easily take care of myself and just get it over with that way.

I can’t lie here and say I don’t like how my appetite’s decreased for sex. I don’t want to want sex as much as I used to with him, cuz he couldn’t take care of me. We’ve always had part-time sex and we always will. He doesn’t have a high drive himself, and due to our schedules and all he has to do, there’s no way we could screw regularly.

I also have periodic spells where I wish things could’ve been different with me and that I could have a child. I know, though, that the longer I stay as I am, the happier I’ll be that I did. I can’t afford to waste my time, as much of it as I have, on trying to get by both God and Tom on issues I could never win on. It only exhausts, depresses, angers, and frustrates me. I could never win. And what if I could? Would that really be best? Or would I just be even more miserable with a million more problems? I’ll bet I would be, and the good thing about never having a kid is that I’ll never have to find out that I was right about fearing more misery/problems. Like I said, God knows what I can and can’t handle both physically and mentally. What goes for me may not go for others, but he’d never let me bite off more than I could chew.

So, while it’s easy for me to say I wish I could be thin again, and be normal, and sleep with my husband, have a normal sex life, have a kid, and a career, and not be afraid to drive, this can never be. These things aren’t me and that’s that. Again, though, everything has its pros and cons and had that been me, I’d wish I could be as I really truly am. Well, I wouldn’t want the rather odd sex life I’ve had, and maybe I wouldn’t want to be unable to sleep with my husband, but I’d wish I didn’t have to work. And I’d wish for damn sure that there were no kids in the picture.

The only unique things I like about myself are my abilities with music and art.

The freeloader just left after 3 door slams.

Later…

The object of my lust just called to remind me of Monday’s appointment. How could I forget! At first I was like, who’s this? Then when she said she was Melanie I was shocked. She sounded like a 15-year-old. She said she probably sounded different cuz she had to have her braces put back on. I said, “Oh you poor thing!” and asked what happened. She said something about a tooth slipping back. Then I was kind of like, haha! And we were laughing like old buddies.

I brought up the pen pal thing by asking her first if she had a home PC. She doesn’t have one. Bummer. Then I told her I hope she feels better since I know how it can be at first, and she said it was good for the diet. I told her she’s not fat, she said “yeah right,” then that was it.

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hourcat · 2 years

Note

prompt bc i can’t get this out of my mind: charles and pierre are married in fact and have been married for a while bc they realized early on theyre in love (ignoring wags or making them beards idk)! the other drivers get sick of their “pining” and start trying to set them up and these two babes are so oblivious they keep talking about their husband normally as though the drivers know! and they’re like oh great ofc i’ll go on a date w my husband, but why are you leaving?? come join us :(

OMG! anon it took a minute for me to properly put this one together but honestly, it was soooo fun and it definitely could've become a whoooole fic if i didn't use some self control w/this. thank you for sending!!! i hope you enjoy my take on your great idea <3

(word count: 3,276) FEATURING: Danny Ric & Carlos!

The ceremony is small.

Eventually, of course, it will be big—they’d both agreed to it, quietly, curled together with the sheets pulled over their heads during the last race weekend of the season. I want to spend my life with you, Pierre had whispered, and Charles had laughed softly and kissed his palm, said I want to spend the rest of my life with you, too, and kissed him for good measure—and that had been it.

So in the dead of night, in a vineyard in Italy, Pierre and Charles quietly exchange rings under the bright light of a full moon and a backdrop of glittery stars. They’re not real engagement rings, of course—they’re still keeping things under wraps from the rest of the world, so they exchange their own thick-band pinky rings instead and promise that, when they can do this the right way, in front of everybody, they’ll be real. (It feels like being kids again, almost—buying matching Ring Pops to prove their loyalty and faithfulness, that they’d always be on each other’s team through it all. Pierre says this, later, in Charles’ bed, and Charles laughs so hard he cries. Then he cries about how long he’s loved Pierre, how long he’s wanted this. Pierre just kisses the tears off his cheeks and echoes his sentiments.)

The only attendees, this time around, are the closest of family. Pierre’s parents are there, of course, as is Charles’ mother; the collection of siblings and cousins and relatives will be invited to the bigger wedding, the one where there’s no worry about being caught in the act anymore. A local priest, fluent only in Italian, marries them with soft-spoken words and a gentle touch. When Charles loops his arms over Pierre’s shoulders and kisses him after hearing “Puoi baciarlo ora, giovanotto,” the world shifts. Changes. Becomes a little bit brighter, now.

Sei mia per sempre.

Nobody on the grid knows, however. They’re not worried about their friends being judgmental or anything—frankly, some days it feels like everybody knows—but since they’re still so young, still so early in their professional careers, they both agreed that the distractions that would come with being public would be too hard to juggle with everything else. It makes bad days feel a little worse, and good days a little bit dimmer, but it’s only on track; they share hotel rooms and live at each other’s apartments full time, perfectly settled in one another’s pocket.

A happy medium—at least until someone retires first.

The two things that annoy Daniel most race weekends, bar none, are Lando’s annoying fucking face when he sees Daniel talking with Max, and the absolutely insufferable sight of Pierre Gasly and Charles Leclerc eye-fucking during the Driver’s Parade without the decency to do anything about it.

He’s perfectly fine with telling Lando to fuck off, considering Lando will just flip him the bird anyway, context be damned—but Pierre and Charles? He doesn’t know them quite as well. There’s no good way to say “Hey, you two should fuck and get it over with,” to a couple of guys who are kind of your coworkers, kind of your friends, and kind of your rivals all in one. Hallmark doesn’t make those kinds of cards. And besides, it’s technically none of his business?

Although, it happens every. Goddamn. Parade. So maybe it’s kind of starting to become Daniel’s business after all.

It’s gotten to the point, actually, that he’s started complaining about it at home. “Babe,” Daniel grumbles, folding his arms and dropping his head to the counter. “It feels like—you walk up to them, and it’s like you just interrupted some Disney moment. Like, I can hear the music and I feel like a cunt trying to talk to ‘em.”

Heidi laughs at him, setting her glass of water down in favor of resting her now-cool hand on his shoulder. “Maybe they’re just really good friends, Dan.” Absolutely-fucking-not. He groans, loudly. His girlfriend just laughs again. “Or maybe, since they are clearly inconveniencing your life, you should try and set them up.”

Daniel peeks his head up from the countertop. “Like on a blind date?” Heidi nods. “With each other.”

“If you’re sooooo convinced they’re in love, Danny, then yeah.” She waves her hand casually, gesturing towards the idea she’s trying to force into his head. “And if they’re actually into each other, you can call yourself matchmaker.” She raises an eyebrow. “And you know how you love love.”

Daniel sits up a little more. “I do love love,” he muses. Heidi laughs at him, hooking an arm around his shoulders properly. She drops a kiss to his cheek. He hums affectionately. “You know what, yeah, that’s a great idea, baby. I’ll play matchmaker!”

“Just try to be subtle, though. If you drop in like a brick, they’re gonna run screaming.”

Daniel barks a laugh, swiveling in his seat to pull Heidi into his arms fully. She giggles. “That’s a weird fuckin’ metaphor,” he laughs, and she just rolls her eyes. “But I get your point.”

So Matchmaker it is. Daniel figures he’ll work on Pierre first, considering they’re kind of closer than he is with Charles. It’s hard to gauge, to be honest—Charles is always nice and polite with him, laughs at all his jokes, and Pierre always has his mind in the gutter like Daniel, but are those really foundations of friendship?

He probably shouldn’t be thinking about this right as he’s walking up to Pierre out on the track during walkthroughs, but, oh well.

“Pierrrrrrrrre Gaslyyyyyyy!” He half-shouts, half-laughs. Pierre turns immediately, grinning like a maniac. He reverses on his track walk, the rest of his team content to continue walking even though Pierre’s not with them. Daniel kind of raises an eyebrow at it. Who’s in charge of this team again?

“Daniel,” Pierre exclaims, grabbing his hand in a half-thought-out bro-hug. Daniel follows his lead, claps him firmly on the back once before they release each other. “You ready for this weekend, man?”

Daniel shrugs. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he responds. The truth, technically—but also, literally, this is not what he’s talking to Pierre for. How do the pros start this? “Uh—hey, are you doing anything later tonight?”

Pierre raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you like this with all of the girls,” he deadpans, then laughs brightly, slapping Daniel on the shoulder. “Wow, Danny Ric, I knew you were in love with me, but I never thought you would say it.”

Daniel rolls his eyes and snorts. “You got me,” he replies flatly. And then: “No, no, I’m serious—I was, uh.” Here we go, just fucking do it, it’s for their own good. “I was talking to Charles, before, and he mentioned—he mentioned this club, um, right down the street from where our hotels are?” Pierre’s eyebrow is still raised. “He said he was thinking about—going.”

“Uh huh.” The Frenchman’s face is unreadable, eyes looking particularly sharp. Daniel really, really, really hopes he didn’t just make whatever is happening between them worse.

“Yeah, and he mentioned—I think he said he was going to, um, invite some of the guys.” Some of the guys? What the fuck, Daniel.

“He did.” God, Daniel wishes he could read minds. Pierre is so impossible to understand—always looks like he’s posturing or some shit. Too pretty for his own good, probably. Jesus, did he really just think that? Daniel just wants to shake the kid and shout CHARLES IS IN LOVE WITH YOU, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! and make all of the touchy-feely awkward Driver’s Parades go away.

He can’t, of course—that doesn’t seem very Matchmaker-y of him—but still. A man can dream.

“Yeah,” Daniel confirms his lie. He glances down and sees Pierre absentmindedly fiddling with the ring on his pinky. “And I—you’re a party guy! So. I figured, I mean, if you’re not doing anything, you should—go with him?”

At that, Pierre laughs. “You don’t sound too sure about that, Daniel,” he says, expression still unchanged, god dammit. “Are you coming too?”

“No!” Oh, that came out way too fast. “No, I mean—I, my girlfriend is here so I figure I owe her a nice dinner, so—” he shrugs, shoves his hands in his pockets even though it is about a thousand degrees on the track and Daniel really just wants to get back to the air-conditioned garage. “You should text Charles though!” Okay, okay, almost fucking done and then—“I’m sure he’d like to hear from you.”

For a moment, Pierre’s expression cracks. Daniel gets a glimpse of something real in there—affection? Infatuation? It’s hard to read, and the crack closes up so quick, but Daniel saw it. He saw it. He’s been right this whole fucking time and now Pierre is, ideally, going to take his advice. Text Charles about going to the club. And maybe, maybe, end this god damn will-they-won’t-they thing that’s been happening for years.

“The club down the road from our hotel, you said?” Pierre asks, sounding a little wary. Daniel nods, although he knows almost immediately that he’s overselling. “Hm. Okay. I will remember that.” He slaps Daniel’s shoulder again, firm like he somehow always is, then grins. “I gotta catch up with my team now, but—I will see you around!” He winks at Daniel and then jogs off towards the collection of AlphaTauri people who were, Jesus fucking Christ, just walking aimlessly without him? There has to be some kind of child protective services for drivers stuck in shitty teams.

Maybe he’ll look into that one for himself.

Carlos takes one look at his teammate and, immediately, knows exactly what he’s thinking. “Charles,” he says flatly, and Charles blinks up from where he’d been staring off into space.

Or, more accurately, who he’d been staring off into space at. “What?” He looks a little sheepish, which, really just proves that he’d been doing exactly what Carlos thought he was doing. “Sorry, I was—”

“Distracted,” Carlos finishes, raising a knowing brow at him. A little flush of color surfaces on his cheeks. “I can tell, mijo.” He shakes his head a little, snorts out a laugh. “I was going to ask you if Mattia has talked to you about strategy for the next race, yet, but I get the feeling I already know the answer.”

Charles grimaces. “He has not, no. I haven’t seen him all afternoon. Do you think he is avoiding me?”

“Definitely,” Carlos deadpans. Charles laughs loud, returning to his usual self a little more. “What has you so distracted, though?” They’re friends—at least enough that Carlos knows he can probably get Charles to open up if he really needs to get something off his chest. He’s going to offer his teammate the opportunity to say something about whatever the hell is going on with Pierre before he goes right into it.

Charles shrugs. “I was just thinking,” he says, but his face is still a little pink.

“You are a terrible liar, man.” Charles looks at him, confused. “You are not subtle, either.”

“What are you talking about,” his teammate says, but he says the words slowly, like he doesn’t understand Carlos despite the fact that English is just about the only language they can effectively communicate in.

“I know about Pierre.”

That does something. A flash of panic crosses Charles’ face, genuine: Carlos, for a beat, regrets saying something. He’s never really seen Charles in any other state than carefree and relaxed, and this looks very much like the opposite of that. Oops. “You do?” His voice is small, quiet.

We could have done this better, Carlos tells himself. “I know you like him, Charles. It is pretty clear on your face every time I see you guys together.”

The panicked expression fades pretty quickly, to Carlos’ relief. He’s not going to break his teammate right before a very important stretch of races for the team. He could not live with that. Mattia would strangle him, which he’s a little bit convinced he’s going to do anyway.

“Oh,” Charles says, still quiet. Charles watches as he twists the ring on his pinky finger.

Carlos hasn’t ever really done this before, but like—this is his teammate, right? He’s supposed to, on some level, be a wingman. “You shouldn’t worry,” he tries, and then cringes a little at how it sounds coming out of his mouth. “I mean—you’ve known him your whole life, yeah?”

Charles’ face gets visibly soft. The pink in his cheeks has darkened a little. “My whole life, yes,” he repeats back, nodding a little. “Since we were kids, you know.”

Carlos laughs a little, nudges at his friend’s shoulder. “Yes, I do know,” he responds. “Well, if you have known each other that long—it would be easy, to take the next step, I imagine, yes?”

Charles blinks at him. “Next step?”

“You know.” He really doesn’t want to be the one who says you should kiss Pierre and get it over with, considering there are a whole bunch of details that Carlos actually doesn’t know. “You know, like—like talking to him?”

Charles rolls his eyes. “It’s not like we are in high school, Carlos,” he answers, crossing his arms. “I talk to Pierre all the time.”

“Okay, you are clearly not trying to listen to me,” Carlos says. Charles just offers up a poorly formed wink. “I mean—talk to him about how you feel! It is only going to hurt you if you don’t—I don’t know, get it out!” He throws his arms up in the air, frustrated at the fact that Charles isn’t going along with this clearly great advice he is being given for free.

Charles, who is just looking at him with both eyebrows raised. “Since when did you care about my relationships?” It doesn’t come out harsh—nothing ever does, with Charles—just curious, eyes glittering with curiosity.

He is annoyingly sweet. “I—” with a grunt, Carlos runs a hand through his hair, trying to find the words. “I see you look at him all the time, man. All the time. You are always so—” he mimics the expression, doe-eyed and spaced out the way Charles always seems to be whenever Pierre is in the vicinity. “About him. You are very not subtle.”

The color darkens in Charles’ cheeks. “You’re exaggerating,” he says, but the tone of his voice makes Carlos think he knows exactly what’s being said. “I—you don’t need to worry about my relationship with Pierre, Carlos.” He exhales, a soft forceful huff. “Thank you, but—it is fine. We are fine.”

“Clearly you are not,” Carlos insists. “Look at you. He is literally just walking back and forth from his garage not even doing anything and you are here, looking at him like he is—I don’t even know. Lunch?” He cringes as he says it, and Charles yelps a little laugh. “No, I mean, you know.” Does he even know what he’s talking about?

Charles must think the same. His eyebrows are knit together as he looks Carlos in the face. “I do not know,” he says.

Carlos groans. “If you don’t talk to him, I am going to, and I will embarrass you so hard you are going to want to transfer teams.” Is Carlos actually going to talk to Pierre? Absolutely not. He’s not going to insert himself where he shouldn’t, especially when it’s something as personal as this, but—but Charles doesn’t know that.

And maybe, if he thinks Carlos would talk to Pierre about him, it’ll make him actually do something.

“Oh my god,” Charles mutters, covering his face with his hands. “Please—Carlos, I am begging you, do not talk to Pierre.”

“I won’t,” Carlos answers, leaning back against the counter. “If you talk to him instead.”

Charles moans something pitiful behind his hands. “You suck so much,” he grumbles, and Carlos just laughs.

“Take my fucking advice, Charles. Don’t be an idiot.”

Satisfied with his attempts at resolving his teammate’s disaster of a love life, Carlos starts to walk back to his own driver’s room.

“It takes one to know one, you know,” Charles calls to him as he goes, muffled. Carlos doesn’t have to turn around to flip him off properly; he hears his friend laughing the whole way back.

“The weirdest thing keeps happening to me,” Charles mumbles, peeling away his sweatpants and climbing into the hotel bed.

From beside him, Pierre hums, glancing up from his phone. “What’s wrong, calamar?” He stretches his arm out and Charles tucks right into his side, sighing as Pierre aimlessly trails his fingers up his arm.

“I—” he makes a face. Pierre looks down a little, presses a half-formed kiss to his forehead. “I think Carlos was trying to give me dating advice.”

Pierre laughs. “You’re seeing someone else behind my back, cher?” he chuckles, and Charles thwacks him in the chest gently, tapping his fingers against his husband’s crucifix.

“Shut up. You’re lucky I’m not.”

Pierre hums softly. “I am.”

“No, but—” he shifts in his position, scoots up a little more so he’s almost eye level with Pierre again. “He was—he thought I had a crush on you.”

Pierre raises an eyebrow. “I mean—you do, don’t you? We are married, after all?”

Charles rolls his eyes. “You’re just being dense on purpose,” he grumbles, but smirks a little at the way Pierre pretends he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“Maybe,” he purrs, but pulls Charles closer nonetheless. “No, but—that actually happened to me too earlier.” He grimaces. “Daniel said you told him you wanted to go clubbing at some place down the road from our hotel?”

Charles snorts. “I didn’t even talk to him today, and—me? Clubbing?” He feels the rumble of laughter in Pierre’s chest. “Carlos said that I am too obvious in the way that I look at you when we’re doing pre-race stuff.”

Pierre presses a kiss to the side of his head, then tucks a finger under his chin to lift his gaze. “You look at me during pre-race?”

“Shut up,” Charles mutters, unable to swallow down his endeared, only-mildly-irritated smile. “I look at you too much, maybe I should go clubbing.”

Pierre hums, cocks his head to the side a little. “It is right down the street, after all,” he murmurs, ducking closer. “Maybe you can use that advice Carlos gave you, pick up a man.” Charles mewls a little, closing the distance between them—he presses a chaste kiss to Pierre’s bottom lip, scooting closer so he can properly wrap his husband up in a real kiss, one he’s been saving for most of the afternoon.

“Maybe I will,” he mumbles breathily as they part, and Pierre tsks at him, shaking his head.

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay,” he whispers, shifting his attention to the left to begin gnawing at Charles’ jaw. The scrape of his teeth is both gentle and sharp, intoxicating immediately. Charles is glad he and Pierre have this steadfast rule—doing this between practice sessions would be far too dangerous, and he’s never been able to deny Pierre anything when it comes to this.

He sinks his teeth in a little more and Charles moans. “Pierre—”

“Tell me what time you’re leaving,” he whispers, breath hot against Charles’ already-heated skin. “Maybe I will meet you there.”

#piarles #pierrecharles #10 x 16 #fic #prompt #ok fr i was a little worried when i first got this BUT i think i finagled it my way BUT i dont have the confidence to say that for sureeeee #writing in new voices is weird. and hard. and i hope i did danny & carlos justice but im so sorry in advance #ask reply #Anonymous

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

The Shield

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 5595

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, John Walker, Emotions, Character Death, Mentions of Blood, I know people had a hard time with that last scene so please take caution because it is in this part! GIF at end is the ending scene, so be careful when you get towards the bottom! I feel like I’m forgetting some, so just know this one’s a bit more than the others.

A/N: Here it is, folks! The Part we’ve all been waiting for! It’s the longest one I’ve written so far but so much happened and I couldn’t find a better spot to end it than where the episode ended. Thank you all for being patient with me today. I know I didn’t get this out as quickly as I would’ve the past few weeks, but you guys are so awesome! Seriously! I love that you understand I do have a life and work comes first! Thank you, thank you!

This Part is a doozy, guys, and…I’m sorry? But not really. I’m SUPER excited to see where this is gonna go, especially considering Episode 5 is supposed to be the real tear jerker. I can’t believe there’s only two more episodes! I’ve grown so attached to these characters just in the past month! I’m so glad I’m able to share some of my thoughts and feelings with you guys, too! You’re honestly the best!

I’ll be doing more One Shots this week, so look for those on the Masterlist. I’m still taking requests for them, so if there’s anything you want explored about the reader and her relationships that you don’t think will be explored in this Series, just ask and I’ll try to add it to the One Shot list.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

(I couldn’t decide on which GIF to use because there are so many good ones! Thank you Tumblr Creators!)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“Doll…hey. Doll. C’mon, sweetheart. We gotta get moving.”

You cracked your eyes open begrudgingly, squinting up to see Bucky’s amused grin, head tilted and eyes soft. “Huh?”

He chuckled as you rubbed your eyes, confusion lifting an eyebrow. “The funeral. Zemo said we’ve gotta go if we’re gonna make it in time.”

“Wait, but…huh?”

Sniggering again at your reaction, he held up your phone. “You passed out in the middle of a chapter, sleepyhead.” He teased lightly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you to sit upright. “It’s almost been an hour.”

You huffed tiredly, stretching and placing your feet on the floor, taking back the phone he held out to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You haven’t been sleeping well.” He stated, like it should’ve been obvious. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“Better than earlier. It’s just sore. That’s all.”

He studied your features for any hint of a lie. Not finding one, he nodded, holding out his hand. “Okay. But tell me if it starts bothering you.”

You placed your hand in his, marveling for a split second at how big his hands were compared to yours - something you noticed every time but still it never ceased to astound you. He tugged you up, and you looked up to meet his worried eyes, remembering his question.

“I will, Buck. Promise.”

He nodded, tilting his head towards the door. “C’mon, cuddle bug. We don’t wanna miss this.”

A groan passed your lips, but you nodded and followed Bucky out into the main room, where Sam chuckled at you from his spot at the table. “Sleeping beauty has finally awoken.”

You flipped Sam off groggily. “Are we going or not?”

“Do you wanna wake up s’more first?”

“No.” You answered the one armed brunette. “I’ll just splash some water on my face or something. I’ll be fine by the time we get there. Where’s-”

“Looking for me?”

Zemo strolled out, now dressed in that coat of his, that smug smirk on his lips. You scowled. “I wish I wasn’t.”

Sam stood up, standing subconsciously between you and Zemo. “Let’s head out.”

You nodded in agreement, shooting the Baron one more glare, before following him out the door and into the city, Bucky right besides you, shoulders brushing as if you weren’t ignoring him just hours prior.

The walk was mostly silent, a few jests between Bucky and Sam plus a couple comments from Zemo here and there. You talked about strategy, with Sam bringing up the fact that he wanted to try convincing Karli to step down. Zemo didn’t look pleased with the arrangement, but both you and Bucky relented, agreeing to let Sam at least try.

It wasn’t until you were close to your destination according to Zemo that anything exciting happened.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!”

Hell. No.

The moment the voice registered in your brain, your jaw tightened, your teeth starting to grind together as you held back the very not nice things you wanted to say.

“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called out, tucking you into his side protectively, and a little possessively you noted, as Walker and Hoskins came down the steps, the two groups nearing each other.

You were relieved when the subject of Zemo escaping jail went by relatively quickly, Walker latching onto the fact that you were going to talk to Karli instead of focusing on the escaped fugitive in front of him.

You very nearly punched him when he ran in front of you after Sam told him the plan, making the four of you stop in your tracks, but Bucky’s arm tightened around your shoulders, holding you in place next to him.

“You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker questioned Bucky in disbelief, self righteous judgement practically dripping from your tone. “You’re gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super soldier alone?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. “He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.”

“And you?” Walker narrowed his eyes towards you. “I expected more from you; the last original Avenger.”

You snorted, shaking your head. He obviously didn’t know how chaotic the Avengers were. What Sam was proposing? You’d seen it a million times with Steve alone. Not considering Nat, Clint, Thor, even Bruce and Tony. All of them willing to try to negotiate before running in, bullets raining and hell rising. “First, I’m not the last original. I’m technically not even an original. Second, I trust Sam with my life and I’m standing by his decision. He’s my brother. As a soldier, I would’ve thought you understood that.”

Before he could respond, Sam stepped around Bucky. You saw the reluctance in Walker’s eyes as he admitted a temporary defeat once Hoskins agreed with Sam. The fact that he was so unwilling to try to save more lives - including Karli’s - made the truth that he wasn’t, and would never, be your Captain harden deeper into your heart.

Ignoring Walker’s confusion as you followed the little girl Zemo befriended - which was weird, you’d admit, but it was getting you closer to Karli - Bucky’s arm slipped from your shoulders, hand sliding across your back and skimming down your arm to grip your hand. Even through your jacket, you felt goosebumps erupt along his fingers’ trail.

You finally came to your destination and you let out a small breath. If everything went smoothly, this mission could finally be over and you could go home and take a bath, get take out, get out a bottle of wine, watch TV, and just relax.

What a dream.

“Hey.” You stopped Sam before he could go through the entrance of where the girl said Karli was, holding his forearm. “You want me to come with you?”

He shook his head. “I think it’ll be better if I go alone.”

You nodded, letting go without any hesitance. “Okay. Be careful.”

“Always.” And despite all you’ve been through, no matter how many times he’s followed Steve’s lead in doing something stupid, you knew he meant it. You nodded again, before he disappeared around the corner.

You leaned back against the wall, Bucky once again wrapping an arm around your shoulder now that you weren’t walking - he liked having mobility on the move, hence the reason he held your hand instead - leaning besides you and pulling you against his chest.

Ten minutes. You tried looking at Bucky’s watch, which was on the wrist of the arm around you. He noticed and turned his wrist slightly, bending his elbow more, which brought you even closer to him, showing you the time.

Giving a small sigh, you nodded slightly and dropped your head back against his bicep, your hands shoving in your pockets, one of your feet coming up to rest against the wall. Bucky shifted to your other side so he could stand in front of the doors to where Karli and Sam were, pulling you against his back, arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly.

It was a long ten minutes. You kept eyeing Walker, and you couldn’t help the anger burning through you as he held the shield in his hands. That damn shield. It wasn’t his. It would never be his. And he would never understand it. The fact that the shield didn’t make Captain America. The shield isn’t what made Steve a good man. Not even the Serum did. He already was one. Steve made the shield what it was, not the other way around.

But then you remembered a conversation you had, years ago, and your eyes flitted up to Bucky’s hardened face, the brunette staring intensely at the ground.

You didn’t get it. You were confused. You knew how important Barnes - Bucky - was to Steve. But apparently you didn’t understand it quite yet.

You watched from the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall, as Bucky went under once more.

Steve stood there for a moment longer, before turning and walking towards you. “Why’d you do it?”

He raised an eyebrow at you while you turned to walk with him down the hall. “Do what?”

“Give up the shield. And don’t say it doesn’t belong to you. It does. Howard gave it to you. You’re the reason it’s…a symbol.”

He hummed. “And what exactly is it a symbol for, honey?”

You scoffed. “Uh, freedom? Justice? Resilience? The defense of the whole life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness thing?”

He stopped, facing you with a strange expression on his face, thoughtful. “I dropped it because I can’t be that anymore. Not right now. People don’t have the same beliefs they used to have. How can I stand up for freedom and let the Sokovia Accords track every person they deem a threat, just like HYDRA tried doing? How can I be a symbol for justice and let Bucky take the fall for something that he wasn’t in control of? I can’t. And until the world is ready to change…I can’t be Captain America.”

And suddenly, it seemed to click. Steve gave up the shield for Bucky because the world wasn’t ready to admit it was wrong. Just like Sam gave up the shield for himself and his family because the world wasn’t ready for the truth that would come with him becoming Captain America.

God…when did a metal circle become so complicated?

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ head’a yours?” His whisper in your ear startled you out of your thoughts, his nose brushing against your temple tenderly as he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You looked up at him and shook your head. Of all the things Steve gave up, he never gave up Bucky. And it used to confuse you, but you understood then. His blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and slight concern, his fingers tracing patterns along your collarbone with a barely-there touch that was so light it didn’t seem to exist. You finally understood. Not just Steve’s decision, but Sam’s too. And maybe you didn’t understand it fully, and that was okay, because you weren’t them, so you never would, but you understood a little bit.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, keeping your voice down so the others couldn’t hear, the conversation being a private one, “I’m just waiting for this to be over.”

He hummed, nodding in agreement, setting his chin on your head. “Me too.”

Walker started pacing the room about half way through, getting too antsy for your liking. “Shhh.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, feeling you tense as Walker started talking. “It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky stated confidently, straightening slightly from his leaning position, arms falling from your form. The two of you exchanged glances as Walker checked the clock over on the far wall, blocked from your view.

“I’m going in.” Walker strode across the room, heading for the entrance, no doubt willing to steam roll anything - anyone - in his way.

Bucky stopped him with a hand on his chest. You glanced back and forth between the two as Walker spoke, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Buck…we promised him ten minutes.” You reminded him, seeing his resolve crumble a bit. You could guess he was thinking of the nightmares. The people he couldn’t save. The blood he already considered on his hands.

Walker used his moment of hesitation, shoving past him roughly. “I’m not waiting.”

“John!”

“Walker!”

You followed after him, you and Bucky arguing with him and Hoskins about giving Sam more time, but it was too late.

“Karli Morgenthau! You’re under arrest!”

“Fuck.” You hissed out when you saw Sam’s panicked expression, looking at you confused. Walker was flown across the room when Karli punched him, Bucky shoving Hoskins out of the way to run after her.

“Y/N-”

You threw your hands up. “I tried, Sam! C’mon!”

You and Sam ran over to some stairs, turning corners and trying to remember what the building looked like from outside to cut her off, but you only ran into Bucky again.

“I wish we had the layout or something.” You grumbled. “We were that close-”

“We’re not done yet, doll.” Nodding, you followed the boys out, Bucky pausing every so often to try to hear anything. “I’ve got gunshots.” At that, the three of you took off towards the sound, Bucky leading the way.

Just around the corner from where Bucky heard the gunshots, you thought you saw a couple people slip around another bend. Noticing you had stopped, Bucky backtracked. “You okay?’

“Yeah.” Deciding it wasn’t worth the pursuit, you turned to him and nodded towards the doorway Sam already went through. He gave you a look, but nodded and the two of you jogged into the room.

You sighed heavily, seeing Zemo knocked out on the floor, Walker standing over him and broken vials that were previously full of, what you assumed was, the Serum. Hoskins ran in right after you, meaning no one but Walker and Zemo knew what happened. Meaning you would probably never get the full, true story.

What fun it is to work with manipulators and liars.

********************

“I don’t like him.” Bucky grumbled, the two of you walking up to the place you were staying in, Bucky holding the door open for you.

“I know you don’t, Buck. I don’t either.” You had asked Bucky to go with you to get some fresh air once you got back, Zemo having woken up a few minutes after and Walker and Hoskins had to make a call or something official like the good soldiers they were. “He’s hiding something.”

“You think?” Bucky scoffed, giving you a look.

You rolled your eyes. “I mean…I don’t know. When we found him and Zemo…my gut twisted.”

He nodded in understanding, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah. Mine did too.”

You stopped him before you could walk through the door to the main room. “Do me a favor?” He nodded again with a little hum. Catching his chin between your fingers, your free hand moved to smooth out the creases between his brow. “Stop brooding so much. It makes me worried.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, features softening slightly. “Are you really gonna leave in the morning? I know you’ve had a lot of people telling you to take a break, and it’s selfish for me to ask you to stay, but…I dunno if I can finish this without you.”

“I-” You sighed, ducking your head as you thought of a response, before looking up in his wide eyes, begging for you to stick around longer. “Let’s just finish the day and see what happens next. Okay?”

He bit his lip, nodding slightly. You gave him a smile, before tugging on his hand. “I need a drink.”

He chuckled at that. “That I can fix, doll.” He, again, opened the door for you, and the two of you walked in.

“What a gentleman. Straight outta the 40’s.” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

He took off his jacket, heading to the kitchen, while you sat on the opposite side of the island. “Somethin’s not right about Walker.”

Sam gave you two an amused look. “You don’t say.”

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one.” He opened the lid of the bottle he grabbed, starting to pour two glasses of whiskey for the both of you. “Because I am crazy.”

You rolled your eyes as Sam responded, “can’t argue with that.”

“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

Giving Bucky a disapproving look over the rim of your glass, you sipped your drink, narrowing your eyes when he ignored you. “I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”

Your glass slammed down on the counter. Why did he have to bring this up right now? Seriously? You were just having a nice conversation about places you wanted to visit while taking a walk outside. Why was he suddenly snapping?

Before you could scold him, the doors burst open, making your head whip over as Walker stormed in, “ordering” you to hand over Zemo.

You stayed sitting, leaning on the counter and facing the opposite wall as Sam told him off, giving an amused snicker as you sipped your drink. Bucky sat besides you, facing Walker, and you recognized from the angle he was positioning himself that he was blocking you from Walker’s view, whether intentional or not.

You raised an eyebrow, turning in interest when Walker put down the shield, knowing Sam wasn’t about to fight the man. What an ego the blonde had.

Before anything could happen, however, a spear pierced through the air, lodging in the pillar next to Walker’s head.

Your frustration with Bucky’s comment flew out of your head as Ayo and a few other Dora Milaje walked in. Bucky sat up straighter and you stood up, leaning ever so slightly against his arm.

You nearly facepalmed, a sound of complete disbelief leaving you as Walker introduced himself. Sam looked over at you two, an entertained, slightly incredulous smile on his face.

Sam tried warning him. He really did. But Walker, you’ve come to find, was an arrogant, egotistical narcissist who only wanted to win and would do whatever it takes to do so. Even when there wasn’t really a winner. At least, not in that situation. It seemed that Walker liked ignoring the gray area in the world, which wasn’t good. Not in the least.

Which is why you couldn’t really feel sorry for the man. You saw it coming as soon as he told them they didn’t have jurisdiction. And the moment he touched Ayo?

You put your chin on Bucky’s shoulder - who had stood up from his spot - watching the Dora Milaje kick Walker’s ass, wincing and cringing mockingly at the right moments, making Bucky smirk at you.

“We should do something.” Sam said, although he didn’t look thrilled about the prospect.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Looking strong, John!”

You gave a slight snort, not wanting to encourage anything, but unable to hold in your amusement. Bucky winked at you, clinking his cup of whiskey with your own, before taking a gulp.

“Bucky.”

You huffed and stepped back at Sam’s tone. “C’mon, Buck.”

“Fine.” Bucky grunted. “But ‘M not happy about it.”

Soon, the three of you, plus Walker and Hoskins, were all occupied with a member of the Dora Milaje. You knew you couldn’t take them; they were on a higher level that Natasha, and you could barely beat her. But you weren’t necessarily trying to win.

It was a strange fight, knowing that no one - except Walker, probably - actually wanted to hurt anyone. Of course, that didn’t stop one of them from exploiting your injured shoulder that she spotted rather quickly. The hits were quick and precise, the tip of her spear cutting along the graze, hitting the spot just perfect enough to reopen it. The stitches that had been placed only a couple days ago ripped, making you wince and clutch your now bleeding shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” You groaned. “You were always good with those things.”

She gave you an almost apologetic look, before she looked over to Ayo, who stepped through the room towards the bathroom where Zemo had locked himself in during the chaos.

When you caught sight of the shoulder thing she did to Bucky, his metallic arm now laying on the floor, his eyes wide and his stance stunned, your jaw nearly dropped. You guessed it made sense that they had a way to do that, but, still. None of you were expecting it.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked once they started leaving, Bucky picking up his arm and connecting it to his shoulder.

“No.” The arm whirred as he swung it, getting it back to normal.

You couldn’t help the little giggle that left you, making Bucky raise an eyebrow at you. You tried holding in more laughs, but they just kept coming. “She-she...she disarmed you!”

Bucky rolled his eyes as you chortled, holding your stomach and bending over. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Oh come on!” You straightened and wiped your eyes. “That was good! Wasn’t it, Sammy?”

Sammy chuckled and nodded. “I’ll admit, it was pretty good. This, however, is not.”

Your laughter died as Sam made his way over to the bathroom, the light air that came with your cackles dissipating as quickly as it came.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.”

You stared at the drain that was uncovered - large enough for Zemo to slip inside and escape. He did it. The son of a bitch finally did it. It took him long enough. You would’ve betted against him days ago.

“I can.” Bucky turned and grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

*********************

“I thought you told them.”

Bucky looked up from wrapping your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“I thought you told them. The Dora Milaje. Wakanda. T’Challa. I thought you told them about Zemo.”

He leaned back with a sigh. “It was kinda a last minute decision. You know that. You were there.”

You nodded. “I do. But I also know what they’ve done for you. Shuri and Ayo. I was there for that, too. And you know what he did to them. To their country. Their king.”

“I know, I know. I almost died several times because of it.”

Your eyebrows pinched in confusion. “So why-”

“I thought it’d be quick. I thought, maybe, I could do it without them finding out and then we could get to Karli and they wouldn’t be disappointed. Win win.”

Your cheek caught between your teeth as you thought. “You could’ve just asked-”

He shook his head. “They would’ve said no. You know that.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. I know that. But…but giving them a warning would’ve been better than this.” He hung his head, closing his eyes. “Bucky. Hey,” hooking a finger under his chin, you tilted his head back up to look at you. “I know it’s been hard for you. Everything has. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have let you come along. You should be healing, and it’s my fault you’re not.” He opened his mouth, face scrunching up in disagreement, but you shook your head. “It’s true. I just…I didn’t know it would come this far.” You gnawed on your bottom lip studying those captivating eyes, before sighing. “Which is why I’m not leaving.”

He perked up, those pretty eyes going wide, jaw slackening. “You-you’re not?!”

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “It wouldn’t be fair to you or Sam. I promised to help, and I brought you into it. So I’m gonna stay.

“Are you, uh…are you sure? You don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, doll. I know I kinda pushed you earlier, but-”

“I’m sure Buck.” You nodded firmly. “Just…do something for me?”

“I dunno if I can promise not brooding, sweetheart.”

You giggled at his words. “Not that. Just…stop giving Sam a hard time. About the shield. Please.”

His soft features hardened and he scowled. “If he didn’t give it up-”

“He thought it was going to the museum. I told you about that, remember? I told you we’d go when I got back.”

Giving a slight nod, he sighed. “We never did.”

“We will. But, I’m serious, Buck. Please. It’s not his fault. He did exactly what Steve did.” At Bucky’s confused look, you pursed your lips, looking down at his hands, starting to play with his fingers. “Remember how I was thinking during those ten minutes we had?” He nodded. “I was thinking about how Steve gave the shield back to Tony. After saving you. In Siberia. You remember that?” Another nod was given, so you continued. “It was for you, James. Because you made him realize that he didn’t want to be the face of a country that preached one thing, but did another. And that’s what Sam did. He did it for his family. For himself. Because no one wants to fight for a country that goes against your personal beliefs, no matter what they say.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, his brow creasing as he tried processing what you were telling him.

“That’s okay. Not everyone will. Really only they can understand their own reasoning. But you have to try to understand that he did what he thought was best for himself. For Steve. For the shield. And I know - dammit do I know - that it’s the last thing left of him. But it is just metal. Isn’t it? Steve’s the reason it is what it is. No one else. And no one is going to change that.”

Bucky took a breath, glossy, worried eyes meeting yours. “Walker’s going to ruin it. I know he is. I can feel it. Everything Steve worked for. I don’t care about Captain America. I care about the kid from Brooklyn who wanted to make a difference, no matter how little he was. I trusted him. I followed him through bullets and blood, with only that shield between us and them. He was home on a battlefield in Italy across the ocean from New York. And that shield was the welcome mat. It doesn’t matter what it says, what it looks like…but it protected my home when I couldn’t. But now? I feel like it’s tearing my home down. Pulling out the bricks. And it hurts. It was never about the shield, Y/N. It was always about the man it protected when I couldn’t be there for him. And now?”

Gathering him in your arms as he trailed off, you gave a couple little sniffles, pressing your face in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck lightly. “I’ll be your welcome mat, Buckaroo.” You offered.

He shook his head, pulling away to hold your face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. You’re not the welcome mat. You’re the new bricks replacing the old. You’re…you’re my home, now, doll.”

You swallowed thickly, unable to handle the rush of emotions that just poured through you, the sudden change in topic making you feel more vulnerable than you’d like. You leaned forwards, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling him go lax in your arms. “And you’re mine.” You murmured softly, before getting up and heading out for the room, unable to stay any longer. You still had a mission to do. One that became even more desperate with Zemo loose, Walker unhinged, and Karli being so close.

******************

There was a silent agreement to not bring up your conversation. Not yet, at least. Sam had eyed you both when you came out of the room, saying you were ready to get moving, but he didn’t say anything either.

None of you really knew where you were going, only what you had to do. Find Zemo and get to Karli before Walker could. Both of which were a lot easier said than done.

Until Sam got a call from Sarah, who told him Karli contacted her personally and threatened her and her sons. She left a contact number for Sam, evidently wanting to meet. His phone dinged not a minute after he texted the number.

“She said come alone.”

“Well that’s not happening.” You opposed, crossing your arms.

Bucky nodded with your sentence. “We’re coming with you.”

Sam didn’t say anything against it, the three of you exchanging glances, before heading out to the location, changing into your tactical suits along the way.

Karli didn’t seem to mind you and Bucky tagging along, and you understood why the moment she mentioned not killing Sam because he wasn’t hiding behind a shield. It was a distraction. They were going after Walker.

It was confirmed only moments later when Sharon contacted Sam. “Looks like he found them, or maybe they found him.”

As soon as Sam announced that it was Walker, you jumped into action, Sam disabling Karli for just the right amount of time for you to get a head start. “I’ll send you the location. Go.” He told Bucky, who nodded and took off in his super soldier sprint. “You hitching a ride?”

You rolled your eyes at his slight tease. “I hate this so much.” You grumbled, catching his hand as he took off in the air with his bird costume. He held onto you tightly, like the millions of times you’d done this before, although it didn’t make you any less dizzy, traveling that fast, that high, with only his hold keeping you from dropping. “You’re lucky I trust you so much!”

He gave a small chuckle at your shout over the wind. “We’re landing! Brace yourself!” You followed his order, just in time for him to break through the glass ceiling of the building Walker was in. The both of you landed on a platform on the staircase just as a Flag Smasher was thrown through double glass doors, down the stairs, and into a power box. Your eyes went wide as Walker strolled down the steps, oozing a confidence that made you nervous. The moment Walker stopped the Flag Smasher - the Super Soldier - from hitting him with the pipe, you knew even before he twisted it like a pretzel.

“Sam.” You breathed out. You couldn’t even do anything, only watching as the Flag Smasher got up from being thrown again, and running down a hall.

“What’d you do?”

“They got Lemar.” Was the only reply he gave, brushing past you and Sam. You gave Sam a look, but he just jerked his head down the hall, in the direction the Flag Smasher went and the way Walker started heading. You nodded, willing to drop it for now to save someone’s life, but you were so bringing it up once this was done.

Jogging into the room, you should’ve expected the ambush in the room, but, to be honest, they didn’t take as much advantage as they could’ve, so it wasn’t too difficult of a fight. You had trained with Steve millions of times before, so you knew how to go against a Super Soldier. Granted, your Cap wasn’t trying to kill you while training, but it was better than nothing.

You protected your shoulder, knowing that was your weak point, while trying to disguise it so whoever you were fighting wouldn’t realize your Achilles’ Heel. Something you often found while dealing with Steve, and even Bucky, was that Super Soldiers, as quick as they were, tended to favor the super strength side of their enhancements. This made it easier for you to dodge the attacks, knowing most of your blows wouldn’t do much.

Knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay on the defensive for long, you decided to try to get an advantage over them. Disarming them and taking their knife was easy enough. A small advantage, yeah, but now you had a weapon, and you could work with that.

You weren’t exactly sure when Bucky joined the fight, but he did, immediately coming over to you when you body kicked your opponent, helping you up. “That was a Steve move.” Your eyes caught sight of the Flag Smasher behind him and you shoved his shoulder down, throwing your knife, making it land solidly in the man’s shoulder. Bucky looked up at you from his crouch, impressed. “And that was a me move.”

You shrugged. “I’m a visual learner.”

You, Sam, and Bucky were about to go for another round with the guys when a sickening crack sounded behind you, and you whipped around.

Hoskins was against a split pillar, a crimson streak running down his forehead, head lolling to the side, lips red and cracked. The fight stopped as Walker rushed over to his friend, but you knew there was no way he survived. A punch from a Super Soldier? That hard?

Eyeing the Flag Smashers, you turned to Sam and Bucky when they started dispersing, Karli running out as well. They nodded towards you and the three of you took off after her, not wanting to let her get away again and, for you, at least, wanting to give Walker some time.

You weren’t expecting his grief to turn into such raw hatred.

Running up to the city square, you didn’t actually see it happen. Just the aftermath. Which was good, considering you nearly threw up just seeing that.

You heard the change in Bucky’s breathing, barely recognizing the way he stepped in front of you, only realizing you stepped closer when you felt his sleeve against your palms, fingers tightly wrapped around his forearm. A choked sound came from somewhere, but you didn’t know it was you, even as Bucky reached his arm around to hold your waist, keeping you behind his shoulder.

Tears leaked down your face silently, eyes unable to look away as Walker straightened, sliding the shield on his arm, too nonchalantly for someone who just murdered another in front of a crowd full of people, cameras pointed towards him.

The shield. That piece of metal you had been wondering so deeply about the past couple of weeks. The link to the first person you’d ever loved. Ruined. Tarnished. Stained.

You could barely breathe, your throat clenching so tightly it was a wonder you were able to get anything out at all.

“James…”

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