#I regret not being able to read this book sooner | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deuxcherise · 8 months ago

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Collar Crimes: Red Letter

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, yandere OC, yandere male, Eris being Eris, gender neutral reader, reader has some personality in this one, comfort, fluff, angst (?), mentions violence (eye plucking), flashback scene, may include annoying use of "my" a lot, includes a picture of a simple sponge cake (because why not? You'll see~)

A/n: So I happened to come across those Chad skits from SNL (yeah, I know I'm late to the party) and I was also thinking of how Eris met the reader. So this is kind of a prequel to Weasel In, I guess? I highly suggest reading Part 1 before this, but do as you like. Enjoy~

Masterlist | Part 0 (you're here!), Part 1, Part 2

There were many times in your life when you almost regretted taking this 9-to-5 customer service job.

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~” you sing into the phone. “How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?”

Shlick. Shlick. Shlick.

You hear a growling male voice on the line groan, “Oh god, keep talking–”

You immediately hang up.

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

Professionalism, be damned. Yeah no. You definitely regret taking this job. How did you even get this job anyway? Well, however you got it, unfortunately, it just pays too well for you to just up and quit now.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?”

Then again, being an anonymous voice on the other side of the line is far better than your last job, where you had to wait tables for the mafioso in a very, very scandalously short waitress outfit. You were quite popular because of your unintentional moe gap where you would say some of the cringiest lines in history in a cutesy voice while wearing the stiffest expression. It wasn’t on purpose, the facial muscles on your face just don’t work the way most people’s do.

There are times you think about staff, especially Remy, the most buffest and nicest chef you have ever met. As much as you wanted to stay with them at the time, you were sure that sooner or later you'd be kidnapped by one of those criminals if you continued to work there.

…..

Well, you technically did get kidnapped, which proved your point. That’s a story for another time.

Back to the point, when you left that job, left everyone and everything behind, you made sure you left without a single trace. You had to. The slightest crumb left behind could have created a scent trail all the way back to you, and you would have been left with only one way out…

You shake your head and body, ridding yourself of those kinds of thoughts. It’s time to re-focus on maintaining your character for your next caller.

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hiiii~ Cherry, Cherry here! How are youuuu~?”

“Salutations, this is Blueberry, sweetheart~ And you?

Although your face lacks the ability to show emotion, internally you smile at the voices of your coworkers, who must endure the same cringiness of stating their work names aloud. When else would one be able to call themselves fruit names?

… Well, you suppose Cherry would, since that is her actual name. How she hasn’t been kidnapped by any of her callers in this godforsaken city is gosh darn miracle in your book.

Your company, Fruity Friends, was created by some previously closeted man, who felt people needed someone—a complete stranger—to share intimate details of their love lives with, without the fear of being outed. Apparently, it was an idea that conjured up during his break at work when he once sat in the restroom stall and spoke to a floating voice who gave him advice to confess to his long-time highschool crush turned coworker. He found out who the voice belonged to, but lo and behold, he ended up getting married to his long-time crush, and thus, with the amount of money and influence he possessed, the company was born.

A noble endeavor, no doubt, but, in your opinion, he might've failed to account for the… inappropriate individuals who you feel should’ve gone into proper therapy instead of taking advantage of a nice-sounding voice. Seriously, the lengths these hooligans go through just to harass other people… Then again, these are often the very people who pay your bills, so who are you to complain?

You hang up the phone with a satisfied sigh, having finished another long call. You had given them the advice to make a list and check it twice before going ahead with their big proposal to their lover. You interlace your fingers and stretch your arms out in front of you. Time to take a—

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?”

“A-ah… um… h-hi there… I'm… Eris… um…”

If you weren’t a professional, you would have squealed out loud. The rowdy ones are common, but the quiet and meek ones are so adorable! Some of your most loyal clientele had started out as nervous wrecks, which means you have quite a few scripted lines to choose from. Although this one chose the most basic package, according to the call line, you always bring your best.

“Hello Eris~ What a lovely name. A pleasure to meet you! How are you?”

You hear him mumbling to himself on the line before he comes back. “Um… is this… really… uh… confidential?”

Ah… Sometimes, they turn out to be one of those perverted bastards like the one earlier. This one sounds too cute, it would be such a shame…

“Why yes, of course, my dear Eris! Everything you say here is completely safe with me. And if you don't believe me, then believe in the contract that had brought us together. There is nothing you say that can be taken as evidence! Rest assured, you are safe here with me, here at Fruity Friends.”

You hear him gasp. “O-oh…okay… Um… I-I'm… your dear Eris?”

Aww, how cute! You hope this customer becomes one of your loyal clientele. Still keeping up your cutesy persona, you answer, “Why yes. And I am your Lychee~”

“O-oh… M'kay… my Lychee…”

You pause, quickly mute the phone for a moment, and squeal to your heart’s content for just a second, before unmuting the phone.

From then on, Eris would return and call for you every single day for months, except for the weekends. Calls could only last about an hour, as per the package deal, since that was the company policy to accommodate multiple customers per day— unless they were willing to pay for the package multiple times.

On the following Mondays, he'd call in to check up on you and pout about how much he missed you and wished you could talk to you all day every day. And you, in your persona, would reply that you wished you could talk to him all day as well.

It did occur to you how Eris somehow had the funds to completely take up your entire work time. And even stranger is how so far your manager hasn’t complained at all… Well, you’re making your rent on time so it doesn’t matter, right?

Besides, you quite enjoy your conversations with Eris. Once he became more comfortable, he started asking about all kinds of topics, ranging from philosophical takes such as:

“Which is better to eat first first? Steak or salad?”

“Depeeeends! I heard Americans usually eat salads before steaks and the French eat steak before salad. So it's up to you, really, ya know?”

“I see! … Hey, do you think graham crackers are cookies or crackers? I think they are crackers, but what does my Lychee think?”

To things that happened to him recently:

“LyCheeEeeEe!” he whines on the other side of the phone, voice clearly indicating he's been crying. “My LycheEee.”

You play along. “WhaAaaAt, my dear ErIsssSss?”

“T-there…” he sniffs. “There was-was this guy…”

“Awww, noo! What did this mean guy do, my dear Eris? Tell your Lychee.”

You start noticing recently that it seems once a week, Eris would encounter some mean dude who'd insult him and then he'd come to you for comfort. How he always ends up in such situations is beyond you.

And he's always… always does something about it a week later.

“My LycheEeeE.”

“YeeSsss, my dear Erisss?

“You know that one guy… you know the one I told you last week who I keep meeting in the subway, the one who kept saying I keep looking at him funny and kept shoving me?”

“Yeaaaah?”

“I finally ripped his eyeballs out!” he says, almost shrieking from excitement. “So he can't tell who's looking at him wrong or right anymore! Isn't that great??”

Your mouth falls open in shock, only to close it and consider the next words that should come out. Due to the confidentiality clause, unfortunately, whatever a customer says is not liable to use as evidence. Even if it means allowing… crimes like these to continue.

“That's greeaaaat!“ you answer, your throat tight. “You feel better now, don't you, my dear Eris?”

“I do, I do! Hehe~”

Such a troubling life, he has. Even if there is a person you could talk to, you'd never admit that sometimes… sometimes listening to him makes you feel better about your uneventful life, only having to worry about keeping your job, keeping a roof over your head, and keeping your belly full.

Besides, what's there to worry about? Your identity is unknown and your persona is too friendly to get on anyone's nerves.

-----

[Some time later…]

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?”

“LYchEeeeE! My LyCheeEee.”

Oh, his feelings got hurt again. What is it this time?” “YeeEeesss, my dear Eris? What's wrong? Tell your Lychee.”

You listen to him bawl his eyes, cooing and offer your sympathies, like a mother to a child.

“M-my best friend… he said… he said…”

Oh, his best friend. Eris has never revealed his friend's name, but based on the description he gives you, sometimes you wonder why someone sweet and innocent— albeit a little violent— like Eris was friends with someone like that…

“Aww, no! Was he being a meanie again? What did he say?”

“He said… that I should get a life and stop talking to you.”

You feel your heart drop. “R-really? He said that?”

Ah… well. It isn't the first time a customer has left you, or rather left Lychee due to personal reasons.

Lychee is a cute person, someone who likes to hang out with their friends, who likes to party all day and all night, who likes to share the most scandalous gossip from their supposed life. Lychee is someone who wants everyone to like them and to help people get through difficult times…

But in the end, Lychee isn't a real person. Lychee couldn't leave their job to hang out with friends. Lychee couldn't attend parties and weddings. Lychee couldn't fall in love. Lychee was just a faceless voice who only spoke once you paid the price, and even then only for an hour or two out of the entire day.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about all of that. Who has time to party and hang out with friends and share other people's business when you have no safety net to fall back on if you were ever to go jobless? Forget about reputation, you were already used to people making assumptions based on your stoic appearance.

That being said, it wasn't like it didn't hurt when your customers got on with their lives. It was just… inevitable, and you had long since accepted that. Perhaps, this was a sign that it was time for Lychee's Eris to move on. He's spent over thousands of dollars just to speak to you over several hours per day over a span of four months already, single handedly paying your entire rent. As a fellow human who has to work their ass off in order to live, you can't bear to become the reason he goes broke.

“Yeah… but I don't want to! I love talking to you, my Lychee! And you love talking to me too, right? So I don't see why he’s telling me to have a life. I am living! Ugh, stupid…”

You mull over all kinds of lines but in the end, you whisper, “... Maybe, he's right.”

…..

“What?”

“Listen, Eris-”

“Your Eris. I'm your dear Eris. Right? Right?”

His voice sounds sharp and metallic… you've ‘slipped’ up a few times, and he'd always softly correct you with his usual whiny voice. Not like this.

You cough, getting back into character. “Yesss, you’re absolutely right! My dear Eris. Sorry~ LiSteeEeen. As much as I love talking to you, I think that you're spending way too much money on me! I feel flattered and all, but I’m scared you're going to go bankrupt at some point!”

Silence on the phone… until you hear him cackle loudly like you had just told him the funniest joke ever. Moments later you hear him again. “Aha… ah… Is that what you were worried about, my Lychee? Aww, you're the best~ That's why I… But don't worRrrRry~ As the eldest son in my family, I inherited everything after my parents died. Enough to last me years to the point I don’t even need to work. Money isn't an issue at all, my Lychee.”

A bitter taste on your tongue. “Bas-” You clear your throat, the curse word almost slipped from under your persona. “Bestieee, even if money isn't the issue, your mental health must be taking a toll with all those troublemakers you have to deal with a lot. Other than your best friend and of course me, your Lychee, do you ever talk to anyone else?”

“... Why should I? I only need you, don't I? Also, I'm not your ‘bestieee’, I'm your Eris.”

“R-Right, my dear Eris~ I'm just saying. One day you'll want to… you know? Hug someone, hold hands, kiss, or even just… be next to someone. In person. We both know, I can’t do that for you. Don't you want a more… authentic relationship or friendship with someone? Besides your best friend. Besides me.”

A pause. “... Is this part of your character?”

You blink. “What do you mean, my dear Eris? What character?”

“... Huh… Come to think of it… I’ve never thought about it before, but Lychee’s not your real name, right?”

Your voice gets caught in your throat. “... Ehhh? But it is! I wouldn't lie to you, my dear Eris.”

Another pause. “… This line is confidential, right?”

“Mmhm! Always have been!”

“Then what’s your real name?”

Your free hand wraps around the cloth of your pants as you hold the phone against your ear. “I… My dear Eris, I told you. It’s Lychee. Your Lychee!”

You hear him sigh, before he suddenly hangs up. You look at your phone, very confused and worried. He has never hung up on you just like that before. Did he just… leave?

After several weeks of no calls from him, you figure he finally did leave. Fortunately, there are always new callers on the line along with some really loyal customers who've been patiently waiting for you to pay them some attention. While it bothers you, at the same time, it sort of relieves you. He must be finally living his life now, instead of spending it all on you.

…..

It’s a shame though… He was such a charming fellow, so open with his emotions and sweet with his words. It was… different from your other customers. Somehow.

Once you finish your 9-5 job for the day, you bid your coworkers goodbye, drag yourself out of the office to the bus stop, wait for the bus, get on the bus, wait until your stop, get off your stop, drag yourself home, enter your home, lock your door, and collapse on your couch, still in your work uniform. Same as usual. Why your company felt it was necessary to have a uniform when your job only requires your voice is beyond you.

You close your eyes and let yourself be whisked away to dreamland…

Shick shick shick shick!

You wake up at 3AM, according to a glance at your clock, to the odd sound of… whisking? You slowly sit up, get off the couch, walk to the source of the noise, and find a handsome young man standing in the kitchen, whisking away at some white fluff in a bowl.

You rub your eyes and blink several times, wondering if you’re still asleep. What the heck am I looking at?

The man stops whisking and looks at you. He smiles bashfully. “My Lychee-”

WOW! Has it really happened? You’ve finally reached the point you’ve overworked your mind and body to exhaustion! And now you’re either hallucinating things at 3AM or you’re in the middle of a nightmare! There’s only one person in the world who calls you that and there is no way in hell Eris would be in your kitchen at 3AM, covered in flour, and smiling at you like this is all normal! WOW!

You slap your cheeks with both hands. Hard.

Eris gasps, dropping the bowl of whipped cream on the counter. He grabs onto your hands and inspects your face with a worried expression. “Lychee! Are you okay? Why did you slap yourself?”

His hands feel oddly very real and your cheeks oddly hurt really bad… but there's absolutely no way Eris is actually in my home, right? Wake up wake up wake up-

“Lych–No, I should say (Y/n), right? I would call you my (Y/n), but you're already mine, so–”

Oh, heck no.

You take your hands back and head out of the kitchen, take out your phone from your pocket, and quickly tap on the screen.

Briiing. Briiing. Tch!

“Local Police Department, how may we–”

Your phone is suddenly snatched from your hand. You throw your hand out towards it, only for Eris to take several steps back and hold your phone out of reach. He looks at the phone and immediately hangs it up and tosses it somewhere on the ground. Then he moves so quickly you don't have time to react until he's wrapped you in his arms. He places his head on your shoulder, his lips tickling your neck. “(Y/n)... Don’t do that. I missed you… so, so much… ”

You can only stand there, hands awkwardly hanging there at your sides, trying to absorb the bizarreness of this situation. “W-why are you here? H-how’d you get in?”

“Never mind that, your dear Eris is here now.”

You take deep breaths. “Eris…”

“That's me~ I'm your Eris~”

“Right… Uh, could you… let me go?”

“I don’t wannaaaa.”

Your eyes look all over the place, as if looking for a camera that’ll pop out and announce that this is all just some elaborate prank. Except there are none, and this is all very real.

You clear your throat, collecting yourself. “Okay… Fine… Listen. I… I think I get why you’re here. It’s because you like Lychee, right?” you try to reason. “Well, sorry, but bad news is, I'm not anything like Lychee. Lychee is just a character.”

“I know.”

You purse your lips, and then say, “Okay… so that means you don’t know me. Me. We’re strangers! You have no reason to be here! Get off me!”

He lets go of you but slides his hands down to your arms. You’re unable to pull away. What’s with this strength?

“Eh? That’s not true!” he says. You're (Y/n). You like (favorite animal), (favorite fruit), (favorite TV show), (favorite dish), (favorite pos–)”

You begin to sweat as you listen to him list of all of your favorite items, before moving on places you’ve ordered food from, to private details, such as your age, your highschool, your address, your family home address, even your Social Security number–Who the heck is this man and how did he find these things out?

“–and that’s all I have so far. What do you think, (Y/n)?”

“Get out.”

“Nooooooooo!”

He pulls you into a hug again, as if to emphasize the point that he’s not going anymore. You try to twist and turn your way out, but you find his grasp to be extremely difficult to get out of, despite how gentle he’s being with you.

“(Y/n)... You know…” he mumbles into your shoulder, making you still. “For the last few days, I finally realized what you meant the last time we talked. It’s true. One day, I will want to be with someone. In person. Hold hands with them. Hug them. Kiss them…”

He leans into your ear and whispers, “But I have also realized that I would only want that… with you. Only you. I love you, (Y/n).”

…..

“I’m… sorry,” you stutter. “I don’t…”

“Oh, that’s okay!” He releases you and steps back again, interlocking his fingers with yours this time. A blush appears across his cheeks as he bashfully looks up at you with his head tilted down shyly. “We can start over. Today can be our Day 1?”

His fingers have incredible strength, again you’re unable to escape their gentle grip. “What? Day 1 of what?”

“Oh? You don’t know?” he says, softly swinging your hands side to side. “Day 1. Dating.”

…..

“Who says we’re dating?” you screech, wanting so badly to rip your hands away from this deranged man.

“Eh?? What do you… Ohhh! I haven't asked you properly yet, huh? Sorry, love. Will you date me?”

“No! We've just met!”

“Oh.” You can see the cogs turning in his head, before he tilts his head and giggles. “But that’s exactly why we should date. People date to get to know each other more. Silly, (Y/n). But if you need further convincing: as you can see I’m handsome, and I have money! Lots of it! You’ll never have to work a day in your life. I’ll be the best boyfriend for you.”

Tempting as that sounds, the idea of placing your life into the hands of someone else just like that? Hah! No thanks. “No.”

The cogs are turning again before he reaches another answer in his head. “Ohhh, I get it! I'm so dumb! It took me so long to realize… You haven’t realized you love me too, right? That's okay. I can wait. Hehe~”

You stare at him incredulously, speechless. What the he-

Ding!

“Oh!” He drags you back into the kitchen before letting your hands go to don your oven mitts and take out a freshly baked cake to flip it over a rack. “Ta da~! Mmm, sorry. I was hoping to decorate it before you woke up but… well, who needs frosting anyway, right?”

You place a hand against your forehead “What… why?”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Eh? Did you forget? Oh, love. It’s your birthday today. Happy birthday, (Y/n)!”

-----🔔-----

[Many, many years ago…]

“Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday, dear (Y/n)~ Happy birthday to you~ Now, make a wish!”

You close your eyes, make your wish, and blow all the candles out in one go, ensuring your wish will come true as it always does every year.

You receive two presents to open. One from your Mom and one from your Dad. That’s how it always is on your birthday, or your Mom or Dad's birthdays. Just the three of you. No one else. Even now in your teens, your birthday party has only three members and there is nothing more that could make you happier.

After a fun-filled birthday, you went to sleep so peacefully that you didn't wake up the next day. Your parents decide to go grocery shopping without you, letting you rest in because it’s a Saturday.

It was a normal day. Just a normal day.

Sometime after you wake up, you hear heavy knocking at the door. Curious, you open it and find the police. They come bearing heavy news.

There was a drunk driver on the road.

Your parents didn’t make it.

Your wish didn't come true.

-----🔔-----

[Present…]

No matter how many candles you blew out, your wish didn’t come true. It didn’t the year after that. And the year after that. And the year after that. It would never, ever come true ever again, and at some point you just stopped celebrating your birthday altogether.

“(Y-Y/n)? Do you not like it? I’m s-sorry…”

Your vision turns blurry as memories flood into your mind. Your eyes fill with hot tears to the point it flows down your cheeks. For the first time in a while, your face twists in agony as you try to stop the dam from breaking in front of a stranger, but your knees give out instead.

Eris catches you and you both slowly sink to the ground. He holds your head gently against his shoulder, letting you cry out years worth of contained sorrows and to your heart's content as he pats you on the head, cooing at you and offering you words of comfort. He doesn’t understand, but at least you aren’t pushing him away.

Once you run out of tears to cry, you whisper with a broken voice, “Thank you… for the cake.”

“Anytime, my love, anytime.”

“... I'm not… your love.”

“Shh, shh… Take it easy… I'm here for you…”

“Idiot… Just leave me alone…”

“M’kay.”

…..

“I said leave me alone. Why are you still here?”

“Mm… because I don't think you want me to leave you alone right now?” he offers.

You sigh, giving up completely.

…..

Grumble…

“(Y/n), before I go, would you like to eat some cake?”

“... No thanks.”

“Oh… Okay. Well, I also got a present for you too.”

“Don't want it.”

“Can't return it, I'm afraid,” he sighs. “It cost so much too…”

“... Fine. I'll take your stupid gift and eat your stupid cake.”

“Yay~”

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ilovetulips · 2 years ago

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fem!reader x older!tattooartist!eddiemunson

part 1 here !

WARNINGS : smut mdni. phone sex :)). age gap mentioned !! if u dont like dont read. basically the same as pt. 1 but shorter.

hope u all enjoy !! ♡ ♡ ♡ (p.s my reqs are open)

———

eddie hasn’t been able to get you off his mind. ever since you walked in and seduced him like a little minx. he knew it was ‘unprofessional’, yet if anyone else were out into that position, he’s certain they would’ve done the same.

such a sweet thing like you, and such an opposite man like him. you were younger, sure, but you were oh so sweet and fully aware of what you were doing when you first met.

you, similarly, can’t get the picture of that mess of curls out of your head. his lips, his hands trailing up your skirt, the small crows feet either side of his eyes. even his dick for gods sake. something about him was so enduring… so enchanting. you couldn’t help yourself.

it had been 5 days since your last and first interaction with eddie munson, and it has been replaying in your head nonstop. but there hasn’t been a call yet, and now you’re starting to regret your sudden outburst of confidence.

i mean, you had ended on a really good note - he finished your tattoo, you payed at a discounted price because he said you’d already gave him enough ‘payment’. but why hadn’t he called you back…?

had you come off too strong? maybe he did that with all of his clients… could you just be another one of them? what if he just didn’t care about you? you were obsessed with him but did he even think about you and—

ring ring.

no, it can’t be him. that’ll be too convenient of a time right? it’s probably work.

you trail over to the phone on the wall, lazily dragging your legs after laying in bed all day. it was about 10pm, your day being well spent in the comfort of your room. you were expecting a call from work too, so you had already lost hope for eddie and assumed it was your boss calling you.

“hello?” you say sweetly down the phone, spinning the lean your back against the wall.

“missed that voice, hi sweetheart.” your heart stopped. the world stopped. it was actually him - you’d been dreaming about hearing that voice again and it was finally happening right now.

“y’there y/n?” you twirl the cord around your finger.

“hi, eddie.” a high pitched voice sounds down the microphone, not registering in your mind that it’s yours. your heart is quite literally pounding in your chest now.

“sorry about not calling you sooner sweetness, been busy. i’ve missed you.” the heat rises to your cheeks faster than it ever has. you feel like a girl in high-school with a stupid crush.

“s’okay, i’ve been busy too. m’glad you finally called me though.”

“oh yeah? you missed me sweet thing?” now he just sounds cocky.

“mmm, i wouldn’t go that far.” you smirk.

“i see how it is…”

silence. it consumes the both of you. it’s not the awkward type, you feel as if you are just flourishing in his company through the phone.

“m’being serious when i say i missed you. couldn’t stop thinking about you, y’little minx.” he lets out a breathy laugh at the nickname, and it could quite possibly be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. you become aware of your clothes feeling too hot, and your thighs clenching tightly.

“i missed you too. nearly came to your work to book another tattoo just to see you.” you giggle slightly and bite your lip, sounding ridiculous and wanting to stop yourself.

“that obsessed already baby? gotcha hooked. should’ve came down, last time was definitely something.” as if your face couldn’t get anymore red.

you laugh down the phone, not knowing how to respond to that unforgettable day. heat pools underneath your small bedtime shorts.

“maybe you should’ve called me earlier, we could’ve done something… i’ve missed you.” your eyelids clamp shut, afraid you’re starting something you won’t be able to finish.

eddie was sat there, stunned and shirtless in his bedroom of his apartment. and let’s be honest, the plaid pants he was wearing as pyjamas weren’t leaving much to the imagination as his boner presses against the stitching. as soon as he heard your voice, he couldn’t help himself.

“fuck- you can’t say stuff like that t’me sweetheart. m’going crazy over here.” your statement didn’t leave much to the imagination, and ended with him rutting his hips into the air to get some sort of release. he lets out a small moan at the feel of his leaky tip touching the thin material of his pants.

the growing tension was absolutely suffocating, yet neither of you wanted to make the first move and wanted to relish in it until it snapped.

now you aren’t going to pretend like you didn’t hear him moan, because you most definitely did. before you even knew it, your nipples had pebbled against your small shirt, and slick was coating your thighs.

“watcha doin’ right now, eds?” the innocent act only made him worse.

he was still circling his hips, the waistband of his pants falling lower and leaving his happy trail becoming more and more exposed. you were circling your finger around the harsh indent of your nipple over your shirt, biting back a moan - both pleasuring yourself slightly but not fully committing yet.

“d’ya really want me to answer that, angel? cause i think you can hear what m’ doing.” he finally caves and pulls his hardened length of out his pants, precum dribbling down the tip in beads. just like the sick fuck he is, he moves the phone down to his hip level and starts rubbing his cock. “f-fuck, wish you were here touchin’ me right now.”

your receiver fills with sounds of eddie’s slick cock being rubbed, the sound of his spit and precum mixing to soak his dick perfectly. the sounds leave little to the imagination, as you trail your fingers down to your waistband to your dripping cunt. the jolt of pain that rushes through you when you brush over your throbbing cunt forces a moan to escape your lips.

“not so much of an angel are ya sweetheart- shit.” he bucks his hips into his fist, fucking his hand to the sound of your little pants. “touchin’ yourself to the sound of me. dirty girl.” the smirk in his voice evident.

“n-never said i was an angel—“ you slip your finger into your tight hole, plunging it all the way until you feel that spongey spot on your walls. it elicits such a sweet moan that eddie thinks he’s gonna cream himself right then and there. “n’ you started touchin’ yourself to the sound of my voice you perv.”

his hand speeds up, the moans spurring him on even further as he whines into the microphone of the phone. “fuck- missed your pretty noises so much. so so so much.” he hisses. “you gonna slip another finger in, baby? fill yourself up so it feels like me.” he wouldn’t admit that the nickname ‘perv’ was really making it difficult for him right now.

you nod despite him not being able to see you, and do what he says. “miss you touchin’ me. haven’t stopped thinking about you eddie.” your brain was starting to fuzz over, any words that could leave your mouth doing so.

he bites down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood as he holds back from blowing his load. edging himself so you could finish at the same time. judging my your moans and your fucked out voice, you weren’t far off.

you pump 3 fingers in and out of you, massaging that spot inside of you while your thumb works on your clit occasionally. the pressure was building in your tummy to quick you didn’t even have the chance to tell the boy.

“shh shh sweets, don’t worry. m’ gonna see you this week n’ make you feel so- fuck- so fuckin’ good. you want that?” at this point, you could only reply with chants of ‘yesyesyespleasefuck’ and high pitched moans that made eddie’s hand flood with the familiar hot liquid while yours drips out of you.

your back arches off the bed as you drop the phone onto the bed next to you, your pants and moans filling your room as you come down from your high. listening to it almost made the curly haired boy hard again as he imagined how you looked right now - fucked out eyes falling asleep and glossy red lips from biting down on them.

“lick ‘em clean, princes. wanna hear you suckin’ on them fingers nice n’ good.” so you did, making it a point to pop off your fingers obnoxiously loud with a ‘mmmm’.

“you promise to see me this week?” you practically whisper down the phone, not wanted to sound pathetic despite the fact you literally finger fucked yourself to the sound of him.

“i promise, my sweet sweet girl. i’ll take you out somewhere real fancy and—“ you cut him off.

“no. i don’t want fancy… i just wanna do something with just us two. maybe watch a movie or somethin’.”

it sounded like absolute heaven to him. “of course, baby. i’ll call you tomorrow. thanks for helpin’ me get off.”

and with that he hangs up, leaving you red faced and slightly horny again at the thought of what you just did.

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rainynightmoonlight · 2 years ago

Note

Hi there! Can i request platonic HCS of the Stellaron Hunters x blind teen reader?

So the reader is around 13-14 and was recently blinded by some monsters that scratch their eyes badly

How would the Stellaron Hunters take care of them? How long would it take for them to get attached to the teen?

Ofcourse! Appologies for this taking so long!

Characters: Kafka, Blade, Silver Wolf

CW: Blood, big injury

Theme: Angst? I am not all that sure

Reader: Young Teen Male Reader

A/U: None

Premise: The reader is now blind and the Stelleron Hunters help them

THIS IS SFW

...................................................................................................................

Before being blinded:

You were a traveler. Always trying to find your place in the many worlds that you traveled too. It was hard when you were so young and never settled to make those relationships others had. However walking this new land with unknown monsters was not a good idea. Maybe if you went with others it would have been fine, but here you were alone facing a hoard of monsters. You weren't new to monsters, but these kinds seemed way more aggressive. It wasn't what you were expecting. You had basic knowledge of fighting things however this seemed out of your league. Before you knew it it attacked you off guard. Blood streamed down your face; you screamed in agony. You screamed and hopes of somebody would hear you. All hope was diminishing his blood drip down your face. You couldn't see anything anymore your eyes weren't there. However as if all hope was lost a glimmer of sunshine came. The lady with purple hair seem to fight this monster for you well another girl with silverish hair brought you to safety. Here you met the Stellaron Hunters. They were here to save you.

...................................................................................................................

KAFKA

Kafka is more protective of you

She doesn't baby you however

She knows really well that you are capable of taking care of yourself but she helps when you have things that you can't do

Takes on a mother role however more of an aunt

Takes you on missions however set you aside

You mostly stay at the ship though

Spends a lot of time with you

Teaches you things through speaking and giving you experiences

Tries to tell you that despite you being blind that you were able to accomplish anything

Feels guilty about not getting there sooner

Mostly takes walks with you

She's a very outdoorsy person

Listen to you all the time whether it's something silly or serious situation

Makes others take you seriously despite you being blind

Clever tries to babied you get to punch from her because she doesn't like you being babied for you being blind

...................................................................................

SILVERWOLF

She's very nonchalant about it

Doesn't really make a big deal out of it either

Treats you the same as she would treat anybody

Other indoorsy person so it doesn't really go out with you

When you do we'll go out though she keeps an eye on you through a camera or drone

Not in like a creepy way more of like surveilling you to make sure you're safe and so she can come in and or alert Kafka

Gives you books that are in Braille so you are able to read them or will read them to you

Very much like a big sister

Tolerate you more than anybody else

I'm looking at something to try to describe it to you in the best way possible

Doesn't it really regret not doing something however does regret alerting Kafka to late

You two tend to have a lot of deep conversation about things to try and distract each other from certain things when overwhelmed

Doesn't seem overprotective of you but deep down she does Panic a lot when you go out on your own

When someone tries to baby you she she says that you could do so much better than they could

Whenever given a chance she's slightly brags about how amazing you are despite adversities

...................................................................................

BLADE

Very much like a big brother

Makes it his repsonisbliy to take care of you

Refuses to take you on missions

Let's you walk around the area though unless if there are reports of monsters near by

Is accidentally overprotective of you

Doesn't mean to be but he just wants to keep you safe

Asks Kafka for a lot of guidance since he sees her as a sort of caregiver

He is always there when your in trouble

No matter what he is ready to kick ass for you when you want him too

After a while though does trust you enough to join him on missions

Still really protective and paranoid

Teaches you all he can about martial arts and such

Gets really upset when people baby you for being blind

Glares at people endlessly and silently threatens them

Will always give you affirmations when you doubt yourself and you believe them because he is not one to lie

...................................................................................

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

#x reader #x gn reader #x male reader #hsr x male reader #hsr x gn reader #stelleron hunters #hsr kafka #hsr blade #hsr silver wolf #honkai silver wolf #honkai star rail #honkai kafka #honkai blade #honkai impact stair rail

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blueraineshadows · 2 years ago

Note

*slams credit card on the table*💳💥 💳💥 i would sell my soul for a continuation of where seb and mc left off after he slipped that ring on her finger

😆 gotta love a cliffhanger! Here is the fic where Seb slipped a ring on her finger ---> HERE

Picking up where Seb has Apparated MC and himself away from the confrontation in Hogsmeade, and they are now in his Feldcroft cottage. NSFW 🌶🔥❤️

She didnt know how long they had sat, kissing, on the floor. She thought that maybe it could never be long enough. They had so much time to make up for. But then, Sebastian stood and held out his hand to her. MC took it and he helped her to her feet. He cupped her face, gently. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. The adrenaline of facing up to William like that had worn off, and tiredness pulled heavily at her, but she felt safe. "If someone had told me I would be standing here with you at the end of the evening, I would have thought them quite mad."

"Same," he said, smiling. His thumb brushed against her cheek, his smile fading. "Any regrets? I mean, what he said about your reputation, your job. Would he really make life that difficult for you?"

"He might," she sighed. She put her hand over his, her finger tips grazing gently over his knuckles. "But I could never regret leaving with you. I just wish I'd had the nerve to find you sooner."

"Well, we're together now," he said. "Let's not worry about William tonight. He can't get to us here. We can figure out our next move tomorrow, but whatever it is, I am going to be right there with you. And next time, I wont think twice about hexing his arrogant mug."

She nodded. At his mention of being here together, alone, her eyes drifted towards the curtain that closed off the sleeping area of the cottage. Her pulse skittered and she looked back at him.

"There are two beds," he said. He really had a talent for reading her like a book. "We don't have to share one if you'd rather not."

MC was reminded of the offer William had made to her only that morning, the very reverse of this one, trying to convince her to share a bed with him. The very thought had made her blood run cold.

Now, standing here with Sebastian, she realised that the thought of being parted from him, even if only across the room, was too much to bear right now. It had taken them years to finally be able to hold each other. How was she supposed to let go?

She cleared her throat. "Is there somewhere I can freshen up?"

"Of course," he said.

He warmed some water for the basin, and found a shirt for her to wear. When he went out to fetch some more fire wood, MC went behind the changing screen and began to loosen the ties for her dress. The corset was so tight, the back having been laced by William's house elf, a grim mouthed little thing she hadn't much cared for.

MC tugged and gave a frustrated groan at the blasted thing. She hated corsets and frivolous silks. She missed the freedom of cotton blouses and duelling trousers, much preferring sturdy boots to little kitten heels. She kicked off the offending heels and tugged the stockings from her legs.

The sound of the door announced Sebastian's return, and MC paused to peek around the changing screen. He put the logs in the basket before kneeling before the fire, feeding it to boost the flames. A swirl of chill night air had come into the cottage behind him and goosebumps spread up her arms.

She bit her lower lip, watching the way his shirt moved across his shoulders as he stoked the fire. Her intake of breath was a little shaky, and she pressed fingers to her collar bone, smoothing along the skin he had kissed, remembering hia searing kisses. She shivered.

She ducked back behind the screen, turning to face the wall, hand pressed to her throat against her fluttering pulse. "Sebastian?" She called. "Would you mind? I could do with a hand."

She heard his footfalls as he approached, her heart in her mouth, but she didn't turn to look as he paused by the screen. She could hear his breathing, feel the burn of his gaze on her back. "Could you help loosen the laces of my corset, please? It's too tight for me to do it properly."

"Of course, seeing as you asked so nicely." She could hear the smirk in his voice.

He joined her behind the screen, and anticipation made her body burn, the seconds stretching between the pause of his step and the feel of his fingers on the laces.

Her own fingers toyed with the silk of the gown, the bodice of which was pooled at her waist. He tugged at the laces, a knuckle brushing against the skin of her back, and she felt the corset begin to loosen. She sighed a little in relief, her breasts relaxing after being squished behind their bonds.

Once the corset was undone, her hands fluttered in front of her breasts, nervous. Should she hold the corset in place and dismiss him? Or, should she let it fall away from her flesh? She felt the last lace pull free and the corset sagged. She realised she was breathing a little faster, the sound soft in the confined space behind the screen.

Sebastian placed a warm palm between her shoulder blades, the touch gentle, and then his hand smoothed up to the nape of her neck. She sighed again, closing her eyes. She felt her breasts tighten at the touch, the peaks hardening against the loose corset.

Then, he was sliding the pins from her hair, slowly, one by one, his fingers easing her locks free to spill down her back. Another shiver washed over her at the feel of his hands in her hair. It was intimate, personal, and it filled her with a need so strong she could almost taste it.

His hands cupped her shoulders, smoothing down her arms to her hands where he linked their fingers. He lifted her arms just enough and the corset slid forward, exposing her. He was closer, she could feel the heat of his breath at her ear, it was as fast as her own soft gasps. She squeezed her fingers around his, hungry to feel those hands on her skin.

The heat of his mouth moved lower and he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. She tilted her head to give him more access. His lips moved, his kisses becoming firmer at her willing invitation. The corset slid to the floor, forgotten, his hands releasing hers to skim her waist, sliding smoothly over her skin to settle below her breasts.

Her head fell back with a gasp, the movement lifting her breasts, begging for his caress. He was so gentle, a whisper of skin against skin as he cupped her, a thumb teasing softly over one hard nub. She moaned, the sound so close to his ear, it made him exhale sharply.

So intent was she on the feel of his hands caressing her breasts, she hadn't even realised that one of her own arms had reached up to thread fingers through his hair. His caress moved to her sides, finger tips smoothing over the reddened marks where the corset had pinched her. He bent to press a soft kiss there, just below her breast, his tongue swirling over the sensitive skin.

She turned, needing to see him, his face was soft, his eyes darkened by his desire. She felt a sudden shyness, her arms hovering in front of her breasts. He held her close and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "We can stop," he whispered. "As much as I want you, I would never do anything you didn't want. You're safe with me."

She fiddled with the front of his shirt. "I want you too," she said. She felt a blush warm her cheeks. "It's just...I've never done anything like this before. I've never..."

She swallowed and looked down, but he caught her chin with gentle fingers, lifting her gaze to his. "Never? Not even with your fiancé?"

She shook her head. "He wanted to, but I couldn't. I didn't want to because...he wasn't you."

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise, he even blushed a little. "I'm not sure I deserve such an honour."

Her gaze dropped to his mouth and she wondered how many girls he had kissed, how many times he had taken one to his bed. It hurt her heart to think of it, but how could she blame him? He had owed her nothing. But, how could she ever live up to the girls who had come before her? She wanted to please him, she wanted him to feel the pleasure that he gave her. The brief touches she had already tasted held so much promise, her body burning desperately for him. She wanted to return that.

"Can you show me how?" The words were a whisper. "I don't want to disappoint you."

He held her face. "Listen to me," he said, firmly. "You could never disappoint me. You must never think that. Look at you! You're beautiful, just one look at you sends me spiralling. It drove me crazy seeing you in the pub earlier, so close and yet so out of reach."

"When you touch me it's like I'm going to be swallowed in flame," she admitted. "I've never felt like that with anyone. Just you."

"I have to admit, I do like the way that sounds," he said. A gleam entered his gaze. He leant his forehead against hers, his eyes on her mouth, his breath hot. "Mine, and only mine."

Her pulse fluttered and she stared at his lips, her tongue sliding to wet her bottom lip. "Will you take it?" She breathed. "Take what is yours, please."

The passion in his kiss seared through her, his tongue sliding into her mouth, claiming her as she had asked. She clung to him, arching her body to feel the warmth and safety she craved from him. He tugged at the last fastenings of the dress, his patience now gone and he yanked hard, the rending of torn silk reaching her ears. The dress sank to the floor and he lifted her out of it, carrying her to the bed.

He placed her on top of the blanket, pausing to shed his own clothing before joining her. Her eyes were greedy, taking in the toned muscle, the soft trail of hair that led down below his navel. And, of course, the hard shaft of his arousal.

She leant up on her elbows, a little breathless at the sight of him, even a bit intimidated by the size. She squeezed her thighs together at the thought of him inside her. But then he was kissing her, his mouth tasting her skin, moving down to take a breast into his mouth. She gasped, her hips lifting to aid him as he slid her underwear free. Now, they were both naked.

She pulled him against her, moaning at the feel of their skin finally pressed together. She moved against him, delighting in the friction.

"You feel so good," he gasped. His hand moved to her hip, rocking her against him, his arousal digging eagerly against her thigh.

She smoothed her palm over his behind, moulding it, loving the feel of it after admiring the way it curved through the fabric of his trousers. She moved her hand over his hip, hovering close to where he throbbed eagerly for her. He took her hand and guided her, wrapping it around his length. She looked down, fascinated, as he showed her how to stroke him. A sound left his throat and she smiled. She was making him feel good. It made her feel empowered. He wanted her and she could give him what he needed.

He returned the favour, his fingers seeking out her heat and she gasped, her thighs instinctively parting for him. He stroked with slow, deliberate caresses, her slick spreading to ease his teasing. She couldn't help the sounds that fell from her lips, her head fell back, and she was like a desperate, wanton thing. He swirled over her clit and she cried out, a pressure building as he stroked to a rhythm that had her panting and clutching at him.

She didn't think it could feel any better, but then he slid downwards and she stared, wide eyed as he moved his mouth close to where his fingers worked. Heat flooded her cheeks at the intimacy of this gesture and then he was kissing her there. His tongue replaced fingers and she thought she might actually die, the fire inside her flared so dangerously. She was soaring to a height that made her head spin, her pelvis rocked, the need to grind against him almost unbearable. "Sebastian," she panted. Her fingers gripped at his hair. "Oh...oh..."

She felt the dip of his fingers, probing gently, sliding slowly into her as his tongue drove her higher. He pumped his fingers, twisting and curling them, picking up the pace. She could hear the wet, desperate sound of herself, the pressure almost unbearable but Merlin's beard, she did not want it to stop. Her arm flung out, fingers gripping the blanket, tugging at the fabric as though she was about to slide off the edge of the world.

And then she felt a deep clenching sensation, fiery waves of delicious release washing over her, and her eyes squeezed shut, an animalistic sound bursting from her lips. She was breathing so hard and fast as her body became fluid, sinking back into the mattress, spent.

Sebastian withdrew his mouth and fingers, she whimpered, not just at the loss of him, but also at the little pulses of aftershock. He gathered her in his arms, pressing kisses to her breasts, her neck. His hand smoothing along her waist and down to spread her leg wider for him.

"You're amazing," he whispered. He kissed her mouth, his lips and tongue hot and wet. She could taste herself, and wondered briefly how he would taste if she took him in her mouth. She moaned, her hips flexing. She felt him reach down, the press of him against her slick folds.

"Relax," he urged. "Deep, even breaths. You're doing great, so fucking perfect."

He moved to kiss her ear, his tongue sliding along the outer edge. She could feel the fire reigniting, the coil of her need twisting into life. He pressed into her, his tip nudging gently, in and out, easing her. "That's it," he whispered into her ear. "Good girl. I'm going to fuck you, I'm going to make you mine. Is that what you want?"

She flushed hotly at his filthy words. Her breathing hitched madly in her throat, her body arching greedily. "Yes," she moaned.

He pressed in deeper and she felt the sting, the stretch. He stroked her, kissed her ear, easing back out and then in again. "Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned. "I need you."

She gripped his hips, lifting her own to meet him, her heels digging into the bed. With each gentle slide of him, in and out, the sting lessened. She moaned as the new, full feel of him began to send waves of tingles deep inside her. She glanced down, watching as he thrust.

His face was set in concentration, his brow creased, his lips parted with his pleasure. She could see the restraint he was clinging on to. The sting was gone, and he felt so good, so right.

"More," she urged.

He met her gaze. "Does it feel good?"

She nodded. He watched her, eyes lidded, and he thrust deep. She groaned and he slid right back, for a desperate moment she feared he would pull out all together, and she sank her finger nails into his hip, urging him to stay in. He smirked and thrust firmly, sinking all the way in. Her moan was his reward.

She couldn't tear her eyes from his as he kept up these deep, hard thrusts. She could feel that pressure building, making her soar higher again. This time, she knew what it meant, and anticipation tingled on her tongue.

He looked down at where they were joined. "Oh fuck," he panted. "Fuck, yes."

His words sent sparks of flame through her. Who knew she liked dirty talk? The rough edge to his voice was a massive turn on, she wanted more. She slid a palm down his chest, her finger tips trying out a teasing pinch of his nipple. He moaned, the sound giving her a thrill, so she pinched again, harder.

He shifted to lean on one elbow and then he began to thrust harder, faster, his other hand reaching down to grip under her knee. He bent her leg up, easing her open so she could take him even deeper. She felt the slide of him against somewhere deeply sensitive inside of her and she arched, his name spilling from her lips.

Her release gripped her, a sudden deep clench that made Sebastian utter a low growl, he buried his face into her neck, his teeth biting down into her skin. She whimpered, stunned at the raw emotions rushing through her, her body pulsing around him. And then he, thrust deep, holding himself there as he spurted his own release. She could feel the throb of it, her arms holding him close, his heart thundering against her chest.

For a while they lay quietly, holding each other, savouring the closeness. She nestled her face against his warmth, breathing in his scent, feeling a tension slide from her. This was absolutely where she belonged. She had known it back in the Three Broomsticks, and now it was confirmed.

She brought her hand up to look at his mother's ring on her finger, no, her ring. He had given it to her. He wanted her by his side forever. "When do you leave?" She asked.

"We leave in two days," he said. She looked up at his choice of words. He smiled. "How do you feel about Italy?"

"Isn't that where you just travelled from?"

He nodded. "It is, but I want to take you there. I want to see it all again through your eyes."

Her heart danced in her chest. This was actually happening! "I will need to fetch my things, and say a few goodbyes, Poppy will have wondered where I ran off to."

"We can do all of that," he smoothed her hair back from her face. His eyes grew serious. "I will never forget how you stood in front of me, blocking me like you did. When you reached back for me, holding yourself to me..."

He paused, swallowed hard. "I already knew I loved you, but what you did, it said more than any words. When he caught us, I thought you would have gone to him, but you didn't."

"I realised it was what I had always wanted," she said. "I had to stop letting William make my choices for me. It would always be you, Sebastian. Always."

....*....

When MC awoke, the bed beside her was empty. Immediately, she sat up. Wrapping a blanket around her, she moved out from behind the curtain and saw Sebastian with an owl, a letter in his hand. "What's that?" She asked.

He turned to her, pulling her closer to kiss her forehead. "Good morning," he said. He held up the letter. "From Ominis. I sent an owl after you fell asleep last night. This is his reply. He is meeting us in London when we collect your things."

"Really?" It would be nice to see him again, she realised. "What about William?"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about him," Ssbastian said, his smile smug. "Ominis thought him a right prick, and has already used his connections to make sure he won't be a problem. Your reputation is perfectly intact. As for William's..."

MC widened her eyes. "My goodness! But, why would Ominis do all that for me?"

Sebastian frowned. "Why would he not?" He took her face in his hands. "I love you, he knows that, and he also cares for you, he wants us to have what we have always wanted. Each other. Like me, he would do whatever he had to in order to keep you safe, happy. People care about you, MC, people love you. You will never have to suffer the likes of William again as company."

Her throat felt rather thick all of a sudden. "Thank you."

"Ominis is also going to bear witness for us," he said. He slid a thumb over her lips, pressing a kiss there. "After collecting your things, we will marry. We can leave for Italy as man and wife. If you still want to, that is?"

"Oh, yes, Sebastian," she said. She wrapped her arms about him, the blanket slipping free of her grasp, but she didn't care. She was no longer shy of him. She clung to him, his arms strong and warm as they held her close. "It is exactly what I want."

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #blueraineshadows #sebastian sallow smut

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mychoombatheroomba · 7 months ago

Text

I'll Be Missing You

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 44

Leon writes his letter to Sherry and you both continue to heal in different ways.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

He finished the letter just before lights out. You helped, even if you insisted that it hadn’t been much.

It helps to have someone listen to it, Leon had insisted, reading you the words he’d written and rewritten until at last he was satisfied. You’d done your best to point out what you thought Reed and Hellman would want more vague explanations about, suggesting how to phrase some things. Otherwise, your supportive expression and quiet nods were enough.

The letter, though . . . that would never be enough. It would never convey all that Leon wished to say, or all of his regrets. It would never right the wrongs that began that night in Raccoon City.

It was a start, though.

Sherry,

I will never be able to apologize enough for not writing back to you sooner. I’m sorry, I promise if I could have, I would have.

I am okay. I can’t tell you everything, but just know that I’m okay, and I’m so glad to hear that you are too! I’m so glad that you’re feeling better! Told you that you would! You’re a regular Supergirl! I know it’s frustrating, not being able to go back to school. Just keep studying. It’ll be easier when they let you go back that way! I know I probably sound like a boring old fart, but it’s true!

And hey, tell you what? I don’t want you missing out on all the fun. Go ahead and watch Star Wars without me! You can write back to me and tell me all about what you thought, if you want! In fact, that’s my mission for you! Watch as many movies as you can! Read as many books, and just have as much fun as you can! I want to hear all about it!

I wish I could tell you what I’ve been doing these past few months or tell you about the people I’ve met. I wish I could have written to you sooner. I wish a lot of things. Just know that I’m going to be trying to keep people safe, just like Claire did for you. And know that I didn’t forget you. Never could. I don’t know when I’ll be able to visit you. Someday soon, I hope. Until then, please keep writing to me. I’ll write you back every time, I promise!

Don’t get into too much trouble, okay?

But even if you do, I know you’re smart enough to get out of it. Just stay safe, okay? Talk to you more soon, hopefully!

I miss you too.

- Leon

It wasn’t perfect, but you nodded your approval as he finished reading it aloud all the same. “I think that’s good.”

“Not too much?” Leon asked, eyes betraying his worry.

“I’m not exactly an expert on writing letters.”

Leon could sympathize. “Neither am I. Obviously.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d written home because . . . well, there was really no home to write to. He’d wondered if that was the same for you, but there had been enough painful memories resurrected that day. He wouldn’t ask. Maybe you’d tell him eventually, but the two of you had given the fallen their due deference. It was their day, after all, but now, Leon wanted to think of the living.

He wanted to think of just how lucky the two of you were to have survived all that you did, because he’d come so close to never knowing you at all. He’d nearly lived in a world without you - something that in just a few months had become unthinkable to him.

The thought of leaving you in a few weeks was painful enough in his heart. When this had all begun, he’d never entertained the possibility that he’d finish his training before you. You’d been here longer. Trained harder. You were the best and then . . . well, you both knew how easily disaster could befall you and change everything, didn’t you? He didn’t want to leave you behind. Not now. Not after all that the two of you had shared, and all that he wanted to share with you still. But he couldn’t heal the broken bones in your side any faster. All he could do was try and remind you that he was out there. That he would think of you every day.

“I can write to you,” he offered. “When I . . .” he didn’t even want to say it, just as you didn’t want to think about it. Leon saw your expression fall, something in your eyes going a little distant. You were worried. He could see it. He would be worried too, he supposed. But maybe if he wrote to you . . .

You didn’t say anything, at first, just listening to the ever-playing radio.

“I mean, if you want-”

You didn’t give Leon’s doubt time to grow, and he was grateful for that. “I do.” Your answer was simple and straightforward, as it always was.

And as always, it made Leon smile. “I will, then.”

“You’d better.” There was something in your voice. Strained. Brittle. Ready to break. Your voice had sounded like that throughout your entire tale of what happened that night in Finland. Then, as now, you hadn’t been able to look Leon in the eye as you spoke.

So, he reached for your hand, his brow furrowing as the skin to skin contact made your nostrils flare and your lips purse. Like you were resetting the mask you wore. If that was what you needed right now, even if it hurt to see, Leon understood. That still didn’t stop him from holding your hand, even if for just a few moments of silence.

Moments that ended when you spoke, your voice soft. “And you’d better be careful, too,” you finally said, and the desperation of your words . . . it gave Leon pause because he’d never heard you like that before.

He knew exactly why you were making that demand of him now, too. He knew it was because the memories of those you’d lost weighed on you still, because you cared for him.

Because you didn’t want his to be a story you told and mourned in a year.

“I will be,” he agreed, but when you finally turned to him, he knew that his words weren’t enough.

“You have to be-”

Your name slipped from his lips, and he leaned in, his free hand finding your cheek. Making you look into his eyes fully so you would know the sincerity of his promise. “I will be.” Because he wouldn’t leave you alone. He would come back to you, he could feel it in his bones. Whatever other fears he held, he couldn’t let you be another unwalked path, another what if in his life. Another joy taken from him. You wouldn’t lose each other, he would make sure of it.

You would be different.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” he told you, and he could see you fight tooth and nail for even the tiniest of smiles to form. And when he still saw doubt in your eyes, he leaned in further. You always were someone who preferred action to words, anyway.

The kiss didn’t last as long as he’d like, but it, like his letter, was a start. A promise.

You searched his eyes when you separated, and Leon felt such a beautiful pain in looking at you, because he knew now what you’d been through. He knew what you’d lost, he knew what you feared to lose. And he knew exactly why you asked your next question.

“How can you believe that so easily?”

Honestly, Leon didn’t know. He had expected only death and pain in his future when he’d been forced to join STRATCOM. He went to sleep every night fearing that he’d relive Raccoon City, and now he was a few weeks away from facing it down in his waking hours too. He had prepared himself for that. What he hadn’t prepared for was you. Your presence and the friendships he’d forged despite the odds . . . if he could find something good in this hell, then maybe not everything was lost. “Not saying it’s easy to believe,” he grinned, “but I do anyway.”

You scoffed a laugh at that, shaking your head but not moving away. “I hope you’re right, then.”

“So do I.” He had to be.

Because the world owed you both that much. It owed you the chance to heal, even if only a little. It may not give you much of one, but . . . well, if it was a lifetime of dressing each other’s wounds, of putting each other back together . . . then maybe he could find it in him to face what was to come.

Maybe he could have hope again.

⧫⧫⧫

“You’re looking better.”

You tried not to frown at the words, because, encouraging as they were, “better” wasn’t healed. It didn’t mean you were back in fighting shape. You still had several weeks before that was the case. Still, after the weeks of rest you’d already endured, it at least was starting to hurt less to breathe. That was something. Seeing the x-rays of your slowly healing ribs was something of a comfort too. To you, to Doc, and to Krauser, who stood with his arms crossed, leaning against a wall on the far side of the room.

“Should be on track if you keep the rest up like you have been,” Doc told you, though you knew the report was for the Major as well.

Krauser had been . . . well, he’d been quiet these last few weeks. Since Memorial Day, really. You’d seen him mostly at night when the two of you set up for the next morning’s lessons, but even then, there hadn’t been many words exchanged between the two of you. A few months ago, that wouldn’t have bothered you. Now, though . . . well, things were changing, weren’t they?

“I’d still give it a while,” the Doc went on, “but you should be okay to move a bit more in two weeks, give or take.” Two weeks and then you could start training again fully. That meant four before Leon’s graduation . . .

“Good,” Krauser cut in, his voice curt as it had been the few times he’d really spoken to you these last few days. “Then I want you with the new recruits in melee drills. No fighting, but you’re going to be giving notes. Watching their technique.”

Your brows furrowed as you looked towards the Major, and you were hit with a feeling of deja vu. And a feeling of confusion, because when Krauser had pulled you in to spar with Leon’s old squad, he’d done it to get you more practice. Watching people fight wasn’t useless in developing skills, you knew, but so much of the extra help you’d given Leon had been because you could physically cross blades with him - him and the rest. If you couldn’t actually fight, though . . . “Not sure how much help I’ll be to you if I can’t demonstrate.”

“Not me you’re going to be helping,” Krauser corrected, somehow sounding more displeased than he already had been recently. “Reed and the other instructors are taking over their combat drills for the time being.”

And just like that, you were pissed off too.

“What?” Your voice took on a tone of incredulity, your focus completely turning away from the Doc because the sheer notion of Krauser not being the main instructor-

The Major’s frown didn’t lessen, but he shook his head and clarified all the same. “Just for the new blood. Hellman and I have things to set up, so we needed to reallocate responsibilities.” He pursed his lips together, then his chest rose as he took a breath. “I need someone watching to make sure he’s not teaching them bullshit.”

Because he didn’t trust Reed.

You couldn’t blame Krauser for that. You sure as hell didn’t trust the agent either. You wouldn’t even agree to help that bastard in any way if it weren’t Krauser asking - if you didn’t know that he had his reasons. As it was, however quiet the Major had been with you these last few days, this set your mind at ease because if he didn’t trust Reed, this request proved that he did trust you. So, there was only one answer you could give. “I’ll do what I can.”

Krauser nodded, his expression that had been so stormy as of late calming just a touch. A moment, that’s all it was, and then the Major pushed off from the wall, his expression resetting once more. “Good,” he said simply, and was about to show himself out when the door opened in front of him.

Someone you didn’t know stepped in - a man about your age, his face drawn in an expression of pain and one hand wrapped around his wrist. One of the more recent recruits, you realized. His eyes widened though, as soon as he caught sight of Krauser standing in front of him. “Major! Sir! Sorry. I was told to have the Doc look at-”

“Then what are you wasting time talking to me for?” Krauser deadpanned before stepping aside, making way for the young soldier to scurry past.

He’d taken a bad fall from the obstacle course, he explained. It didn’t take long for the Doc to have a rudimentary diagnosis. “Probably a sprain,” he informed the soldier, then looked your way, finding you ready and waiting. “You know what to do?”

“Ice it and wrap it,” you answered, already moving towards the door.

Once there, Krauser stopped you with a raise of his pale brow. “Been playing medic, too?” He said it like he almost couldn’t believe it of you. A few months ago, you wouldn’t have, either.

“You told me to make myself useful,” you shrugged, glad that you could pull off that small movement without being in agony, now.

By the smile Krauser gave you, you could tell that he was glad too. “Well then get to it.”

You surprised yourself by giving him a smile back. “Yes, sir.”

He was gone by the time you returned, allowing you and the Doc to wrap the recruit’s wrist in peace. Your work was observed and approved of with a nod . . . and a surprise when evening fell.

You’d never thought that half of a homemade sandwich would look so good.

The Doc looked more than a little amused as he handed it to you, no doubt because of the surprise on your face. “Fair payment for fair work,” he told you. “But not a word of this to anyone. Can’t have people thinking I’m running a deli out of the med bay.”

You nodded, taking the first homemade meal you’d had in . . . well, maybe in years, with an eagerness you hadn’t expected. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Doc.”

You already had your fair share of secrets to keep, after all. What was one more?

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

A/N: Sorry for the delay! Took a little break from tumblr, but I'll be updating regularly again! Also, we're almost caught up to ao3 now! Anyone reading and enjoying this deserves a medal for putting up with how long this shit is XD But seriously, I so so appreciate anyone reading this story, I have loved writing it, I hope you all have loved reading it!

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #jack krauser #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n

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apocalypticavolition · 9 months ago

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Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 2: Saidin

I am running out of pictures so rapidly it's alarming. It's as if I've moved beyond the territory of the show and the comic books and so all we've got left is text, which is apparently terrible for engagement. Also terrible for engagement is warning people about spoilers, which is why I won't tell anyone who doesn't already know that this post contains spoilers for the whole of The Wheel of Time series. Come right in and make lots of outraged replies about how I've ruined everything for you instead.

This chapter starts with the dragon's fang symbol, probably because it's literally called "Saidin" and Rand will be fucking things up with it.

All the women who came insisted on speaking to Moiraine immediately, and alone. The news that Moiraine chose to share with the rest of them did not always seem very important, but the women held the intensity of a hunter stalking the last rabbit in the world for his starving family.

It's almost like they're working for an Aes Sedai, and not just any Aes Sedai but one of the few left who tries to live up to the old standard. I'd think that pretty important too unless I was literally dyingn of thirst.

Or ever, he added to himself. Moiraine had kept them there all winter. The Shienarans did not think she gave the orders, not here, but Perrin knew that Aes Sedai somehow always seemed to get their way. Especially Moiraine.

I get that you're stir-crazy bro but do you really WANT to be wandering the wilderness in the middle of winter, fighting battles that you can avoid by staying still? What alternatives do you have other than "Don't do what Moiraine wants because she's Aes Sedai"?

“The Tinker woman is going to die,” she said softly, eyeing the others near the fires. None was close enough to hear.

It's times like this you can remember why Min doesn't particularly want her powers. She's probably seen quite a few people who were going to die soon by this point, just because when you walk by so many people in a city it's bound to happen sooner or later.

“Is that her name? I wish I didn’t know. It always makes it worse, knowing and not being able to. . . . Perrin, I saw her own face floating over her shoulder, covered in blood, eyes staring. It’s never any clearer than that.” She shivered and rubbed her hands together briskly.

I wonder if these omens she sees are realistic enough to be as traumatizing as seeing the actual thing.

He thought of the wolves. No! The scouts would find anyone or anything trying to approach the camp.

Good job helping fulfill Min's prophecy, Perrin. Things might have been different if you'd used your resources to your fullest advantage.

She had told him; she had tried warning people about bad things when, at six or seven, she had first realized not everyone could see what she saw. She would not say more, but he had the impression that her warnings had only made matters worse, when they were believed at all.

Poor Min.

It had made him cautious and careful, and regretful of his anger when he let it show. “I am sorry, Min. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I did not mean to hurt you.” She gave him a surprised look.

Really I think my problem with Perrin is that it's very obvious that he has completely over-corrected for problems in the past to the point where he's now too afraid to do much of anything on his own.

“Strange,” she said softly, “how you seem to care so much about the Tuatha’an. They are utterly peaceful, and I always see violence around—” He turned his head away, and she cut off abruptly.

And again, it's other women tearing Perrin apart with words much more than him hurting them physically or emotionally. Perrin's problem is that at heart he absolutely agrees that violence is damaging even in self-defense but he exists in an Age where that self-defense is very necessary.

She rolled her eyes at Perrin, a wry twist to her mouth. “All I wanted was to live as I pleased, fall in love with a man I chose. . . .” Her cheeks reddened suddenly, and she cleared her throat.

1. Min, almost no one chooses who they fall in love with. 2. You're lucky you're blabbering in front of Perrin and Loial and not anyone with an understanding of love because for all your "don't like to talk about your visions" thing, you sure are signposting it for everyone.

The Ogier looked at them, suddenly shy, his ears twitching. “Promise you will not laugh? I think I might write a book about it. I have been taking notes.”

Really, you could argue that Loial has hardly been swept up into the ta'veren stuff at all yet. If he'd met anyone so interesting as Rand and crew, he might have chosen to go traveling with them anyway. After all, his choosing to leave the groves had nothing to do with them.

Uno, who could hardly say a sentence without a curse, spoke now with the deepest respect. The others echoed him. “Honor to serve.” Masema, who saw ill in everything, and whose eyes now shone with utter devotion; Ragan; all of them, awaiting a command if it were Rand’s pleasure to give one.

While Rand of course dislikes this treatment, I do think that having to deal with this for a few months is the start of his arrogance. You can't be treated like this by every normal person you spend time with without it starting to rub off on you.

And aside from Moiraine and Lan, there were only the three of them—Min, Loial, and him—who did not stare at Rand as if he stood above kings. And of the three only Perrin knew him from before.

It's rather unfortunate that Perrin instinctively understands why Rand needs him here and tosses that aside much later on in the story. All three of the boys seem to backslide a bit as a result of what happens to them.

A man—a thing!—everyone was taught to loathe and fear from childhood. Only . . . it was hard to stop seeing the boy he had grown up with. How do you just stop being somebody’s friend?

Prejudices - even really rational ones like "Don't trust the dudes who can and will melt you in their sleep" - tend to have a hard time sticking around in the face of empathy, which Perrin to his credit does have a lot of. It's why he's a little better at dealing with this stuff than Mat.

He began to laugh mirthlessly, his shoulders shaking. “I have the duty, because there isn’t anybody else, now is there?”

Rand's not going mad from the taint here, but rather from the reality of his position finally setting in. The weight of the world is on his shoulders so it's understandable that he's cracking under the strain. And that more than anything is why Moiraine is right to have him wait - if he did go out onto the Plain in this state he'd probably snap in battle instead of thrive like he has before.

Perrin almost laughed himself, in confusion. “If you agree with her, why in the Light do you argue all the time?” “Because I have to do something. Or I’ll . . . I’ll—burst like a rotted melon!”

Like Perrin, Rand's big problem in this sequence is that he doesn't have any viable alternatives and just whines a lot instead. There's a lot Rand could be doing (more training with Lan, trying to learn politics from Moiraine, studying with Loial, etc.) but instead of dedicating himself to his fate he just laments all the deaths that are happening in his name instead. This is naturally only going to lead to more problems down the line.

Rand shivered; despite the chill, there was sweat on his face. His eyes were still shut tight. “Oh, Light,” he groaned, “it pulls so.”

Nope, this isn't taint madness either (I will be doing my best to demonstrate to you why NONE of his craziness in this book can be chalked up to that specifically). Remember: Rand is a wilder and he's still in that awkward "could easily draw enough power to burn himself out because he doesn't even know the proper exercises for starting out with the power" phase.

Rand stood with his head thrown back, his eyes still shut tight. He did not seem to feel the thrashing of the ground that had him now at one angle, now at another. His balance never shifted, no matter how he was tossed. Perrin could not be certain, being shaken as he was, but he thought Rand wore a sad smile. The trees flailed about, and the leatherleaf suddenly cracked in two, the greater part of its trunk crashing down not three paces from Rand. He noticed it no more than he noticed any of the rest.

The land and Rand are one, so he externalizes his temper tantrum out onto the world to avoid having to acknowledge his actual feelings.

Rand looked around as if seeing things for the first time. The fallen leatherleaf, and the broken branches. There was, Perrin realized, surprisingly little damage. He had expected gaping rents in the earth. The wall of trees looked almost whole.

And of course, Rand hasn't really addressed any of his internal issues so while he's a little disheveled, nothing has actually changed.

“They’re always there, dreams,” Rand said, so softly Perrin barely heard. “Maybe they tell us things. True things.” He fell silent, brooding.

Rand is of course also snapping under the pressure of Ba'alsy's TAR campaign. The lack of good sleep is already catching up to him here and it's not going to be getting better anytime soon.

Ah well. Next time: News!

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #perrin aybara #leya #min farshaw #loial #rand al'thor #uno nomesta #masema dagar #ragan

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ifjgh · 7 months ago

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The first character of '78 is my favorite Italian Nerd, Attilio Moretti.

Here's some basic info! <3

Goes By: Attilio Nicknames: Tilly, AM, 4-Eyes DOB: Feb.14th, 1956 Age: 22 (until Valentine's, then he's 23 for the rest of the story) Gender: Male (He/Him) Sexuality: Bi/Pan Ethnicity: Jewish, Italian Occupation: Student (Business Major), Volunteers at the Library, Tutoring, Possible side-job, Possible Waiter at Family Restaurant Socioeconomic Status: Fairly rich family, everyone jokes that it's because of Mafia connections, but his family just runs a genuinely good restaurant Place of Birth: Sicily, Italy Family: Has a younger sister and brother, Mother (Jewish) and Father (Italian), big extended family Height: 5'8“ (5'10” with shoes) Weight: 140 lbs. Disabilities: Extremely Near-Sighted, would be almost blind without his glasses Fashion Style: Soft/Preppy/Nerd, usually sweaters and a button down. Glasses needed (see previous point) Coordination (or lack thereof): Horrible coordination, even with glasses, can't catch a single thing thrown at him to save his life even if it's a pen, always fumbles Personality Type/Trait: Logistician - Practical and Fact-Minded, Very Reliable. Bit of a Know-It-All, and cocky about it. Introvert/Extrovert: Introverted, but can open up if dragged somewhere with someone he trusted and not left alone. Intelligence: Above Average, except when it comes to social situations, smartest out of all of the Main 8 Self-Esteem: Slightly Below Average, doesn't hate himself, but he doesn't think he's good enough for the MC beyond friendship, aka he thinks MC could do better. He does however see himself as an intellectual superior amongst the guys though, and will brag about that. Hobbies: Reading, Studying, Helping Keo with basic Tech Tinkering, Cooking, Collects Rare Book Printings Skills/Talents: Cooking, High Intellect, Good Problem Solver/Mediator Loves: Reading and Learning about other cultures, Helping Others, Being Right, Relaxing Alone, Finding Rare Book Printings for his Collection Phobias/Fears: Being Wrong, Someone loosing Trust in him, Being Alone Forever, Unwanted, Unloved, Large Groups of Water Angered By: Bullying (Syd, in general), Ignorance Pet Peeves: Untidiness, People not Listening to Him Obsessed With: Getting good grades, Being Right, Cleanliness (I'm starting to think he has some type of OCD, very “everything has it's place” type of deal), Learning as Much as he Can about Everything he Can Bad habits: Bragging about how Smart he is, loyal even too a fault, saying ”I told you so!!!“ while not actually helping with fixing the problem, Ignoring people if he thinks they're a waste of time Desires: Life-Long Companionship, Success, to have a Family one day, Intimacy, Experience Flaws: A bit of an Ego with his intelligence, doesn't always think about other's feelings if it means he'll be right, Clutz, Quiet, a bit of a Coward (ex: won't stand up for himself if Syd goes too far), has an outward-directed desire to please others but at the risk of losing his own identity Secrets: The crush he's had on his Best-Friend (MC) since they were kids, he'd practically die if they knew, let alone if they reciprocated those feelings. Anyone finding the ”Adult“ books in his collection. While his direct family doesn't have ties to the Mafia, doesn't mean his extended family doesn't. Has a pretty intense scar he got back in High School thanks to Manzo on his left hip. Regrets: Despite the previous point, he wishes everyday that he could tell MC about his feelings, and that he wishes he told them sooner. Meeting Syd. Not being able to say no to doing BeeDee's homework, because of his more surface level crush for her and need to be liked Accomplishments: Got in on a scholarship, had the best grades in his former High School. Won a local cook-off, and still has the tiny trophy in his room. The rare printings of Kafka's works and "La Divina Commedia" that he has in his collection. Languages Known: Fluent in Italian and English, and is slowly picking up some Vietnamese and 'Ōlelo Hawai'i (from hanging out with Keo) and some Japanese (from being roommates with Manzo)

(Things are subject to change the more I get things fine tuned, I've also kept some things secret for the time being. - Crow <3)

Bonus! Basic Profile Sheet, for funsies! X

#Project 78 #Attilio #honestly he's my fave and the first one I made #character concept

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sabineelectricheart · 2 years ago

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White Rose, Preserved Forever

Summary: Sebastian might have conquered death, but his wife has not, and will not undertake the same method. Alas, if there is one way, there can be another.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1000

Notes: Let us pretend that horcruxes really solve the problem of death, since they seem to operate under that logic.

“What will you do after I die?” She whispers, a lifeless doll in his lap.

It is a fair question to be asked. If Rosalie has one certainty in her life, and she probably only has the one, it is that she is going to die before Sebastian. Probably at his hand, too, but even if he learns some self-control, the fact he is going to bury her and not the opposite is beyond any consideration.

His embrace is neither warm nor comforting. In his arms, she finds nothing but hard edges and cold stone, for rarely is the embrace of someone like him is soft or welcomed. Especially that of one that has gone down the path so far as he has done.

A dark wizard. Nay, a Dark Lord.

At her random question, his hold tightens around her even further. She does not have to turn her head to know he is frowning. He always is, when he gets silent like this.

“Why do you ask this?” He eventually says.

Rosalie smiled sadly, almost wistful for a time that has gone by. She knows that she has never known him as an innocent man, but she misses her illusion that he could be redeemed. His path may be reversed, or so she hears from the books she read, but she does not find it likely to sincerely regret and repent from the acts he has done.

“I am but a human, Sebastian.” She says it with all the poison deserving of a name that she wishes she could dissolve into nothingness, like rain into sea. “I do not have a horcrux like you, nor I intend to make one. Since I have to murder someone with killing intent to split my soul, you should not be able to make one in my stead, either. Sooner or later, like all those who are mortal, I will return to dust.”

Sebastian exhales at that, the soft breath of him wisping over the nape of her neck. She trembles a little, and he rests his head on her shoulder. His weight is solid, too solid, like stone.

“What?” He rumbles, radiating vibration through her body. “Do you think I should have a contingency plan? Do you think I should cure death on a more… Clean manner just for you, my love?”

“I do not presume to know a superior’s thoughts, milord.” She demurs, voice barely audible in the too-loud silence of his abode.

All the tales of being spirited away could not compare to the real thing, of that romantic elopement of magical lovers for a life of freedom far away. Only, she was not spirited away. She was led away by her own folly, thinking that she could control, that she could influence this man, until he, like a rattlesnake, had her surrounded, and then bit.

She would say that Ominis had the right idea, to fight Sebastian at every turn, to warn him until he was blue in the face, to refuse knowledge, but Ominis is now dead, and Sebastian has a Horcrux. She might be physically alive, but is in no different position, after all.

Ominis is dead, murdered by his best friend so many years ago, and Rosalie has to live to bear with the consequences of her mistakes. If Sebastian has his way, that is going to be a long, long time.

It was through that laceration of his soul, this murder, that the horcrux could be made. He argued at the time that there was no other killing he was willing to do that would hurt him further. Such horrifying act, the pain it caused him, made it ideal for the intention he had for the piece that splits off, placing it on a beautiful necklace, his mother’s heirloom, kept by Anne before her passing, that now permanently adorns her chest.

Through death, he becomes immortal.

“Would you wish, then, for me to return you back to your family?” The man ponders.

She allows herself to have hope, because that is the only thing she has left. The expectation of an after-death release.

The woman closes her eyes. “And if I say yes?”

He does not answer for a moment. One moment of silence, too brief for her liking, and he lifts his head from her shoulder.

“‘What will you do after I die?’ I find that there is no need to entertain this line of thought.” He muses.

“So, you have no answers?” She asks, almost in mockery, too light for him to become annoyed, but too clearly for it to go unnoticed.

He laughs, a small earthquake echoing at her back. “All things that are mortal fade, but what of mortal turned immortal? Does a white rose preserved in amber also wilt? There are more than one way to revive a corpse, and you know that I am proficient in quite a few.”

At that suggestion, Rosalie shakes. Chills pass down her back. What does he know that she does not? Too many things. Too many powers. Can he truly turn her immortal? She will never be free of him then. The thought leaves she struggling for air.

“You… You cannot! It is not natural, it is not possible.” She wailed.

The silver of her necklace glares in the sunlight, pulsating in energy and will to be reunited with the rest of its matter, as he caresses her waist. Right above her ribcage. Delicate bones that could shatter with just a touch, if he wished.

“It is not a matter of can or cannot, my dear.” He says softly. “It is a matter of dare or dare not.”

His lips press to the line of her throat. Her breath quickens, but Sebastian does not care about her comfort and desires. He never does. On her skin, he lays a soft kiss. A promise.

“A matter of dare or dare not, and you will find that there are few things I do not dare.”

*_*_*_*_*

Hogwarts Legacy Masterlist

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow

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solarsavoy · 1 year ago

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Sorry if this is a lot but 🏅👮😈👨‍👧‍👧✨

It's never too much! I'm happy to answer all the asks!!

🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

I haven't been too happy with my fics lately tbh, however, I was really proud of finishing Karmagisa week back in July. I was really worried I wouldn't, considering my recent streak of updating irregularly. (Guess I'm just like every other fic write now. 😅 I just miss being able to keep up with posting regularly, because then I got regular comments which are like my lifeblood.) But yeah, so, Karmagisa week.

👩‍🏭 If one of your fics was going to get you arrested, which one and why?

I still don't think any of my other fics will have anything on Students of Despair. However, if I do it right, Pandora's might be worse in that respect. The reason is the same for both: I'm going to be googling a lot of dead body stuff and possibly adding in methods of killing. Yeah, that's probably gonna get me arrested. 😅 So if I do, somebody please point out this post to the police so they can see that this was in fact the intended purpose and I wasn't googling that stuff because I wanted to do anything.

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

Strangely no? I did initially wonder if my readers would hate that I don't feel the need to make every ending happy, but I actually think that makes readers more interested, not less. (Looking at you, tuuli. XD)

There is one thing though. I love writing whatever ship the story may call for for the sake of the story. I won't change it just because some people don't like a certain ship. This makes me sad because I'm not intentionally trying to ever hurt someone for writing about a ship that I love and/or appreciate (because strangely not all ships I include are ships I personally ship, like NagiKae, but I do appreciate them) but as a writer, I feel it's my obligation to follow the story. I don't always know where my ideas come from, but it sometimes feels like if I'm not following the story, I'm disrespecting the thing that gave me the idea in the first place. Maybe that's weird, but I also attribute my inspiration to write at all to the same thing that gives me ideas. If I try to write a specific idea just because I want it, it's very hard to write without the backing of my muse. (It's hard to write at all lately, but that's a separate issue.) Anyway, that's less of speculation and more of a fact, but I do wonder if it hits more readers than I'm aware of. I know not every person is going to like every ship, but I still feel bad.

👨‍👧‍👧 Do you tell people in real life that you write fic?

Oh, all the time.

In fact, there's a round of questions I ask literally every new person at one of my jobs. 1. How old do I look? (because they often guess I'm around 20-25 when they're actually a decade off and it makes me feel young XD) 2. You like books and reading or anime and manga? And then their answer to 2 will direct how the next part goes, which is either "I wrote a book and it's an isekai!" where I then blabber about my book for 30 minutes, or "oh, which anime? Have you seen Assassination Classroom? Great, cause I write fanfiction for that!" and then I proceed to blabber about that for 30 minutes. I do this because otherwise I never bring it up and there've been a couple people that were disappointed they didn't know I wrote/drew sooner, so I've just decided on this introduction of "yes, I draw, I write, I'm awesome, please check out my stuff" and then I proceed to never bring it up again because I haven't practiced my social interactions beyond that first one. (Did I mention I'm socially awkward despite being very chatty? Well, at least I got it out. I'm very bad at marketing otherwise.)

It always touches me when they ask how my art/stories are going later and it makes me not regret my word vomiting introduction as much, so I keep doing it. It helps because otherwise I feel way too into myself, introducing myself like that, like I'm a salesperson selling my stuff, which I am essentially doing. I know this, but no one will know about my stuff if I don't talk about it so, this is how I do.

✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing.

Deep, intuitive (as in with the characters), and smooth (usually because of flow and/or how smoothly I tend to do AUs or mix ideas in crossovers).

Thank you for the ask! Love you Hailey!!

#solarsavoyasks #hailey is awesome

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jodilin65 · 23 years ago

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FRIDAY, AUGUST 31, 2001 Mom had an unfortunate, yet funny experience on her birthday a couple of days ago. They were leaving her home alone on Wednesdays, but not anymore! She was drawing with charcoal, then decided to go outside to dust it off. She’s not supposed to go outside, but she did anyway, and she tripped and fell. She managed to crawl back into the house but couldn’t see the phone numbers, so she got the operator to call Dave at work for her. She asked if he’d come pick her up and Dave said he couldn’t. So he called Mary and told her she wanted to be picked up. Mary was like, “What do you mean she wants to be picked up? She’s not even at the center. She’s home.” Then Dave was like – that’s right, she is!

This weekend I’m hoping we can go over there because their Internet connection is lightning fast, and they have a brand-new CD burner that allows them to burn CDs quickly, without it being hit or miss, and usually miss, like ours. I swear, every machine we have is either broken, or has something wrong with it where it works, but not as it should. My new printer won’t do envelopes. The question is – will I hex their CD burner? I want to make CDs of MP3 files so I can have a lot of the songs I’ve accumulated on tape on CD which sounds much better.

Amazingly, I had not one appointment all week, but I’m booked up for the next 3 weeks. Gotta see Apple Cheeks next week and the week after. Then the week after that I go to the dentist, although I’m looking forward to that one and getting these teeth permanently retained.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 29, 2001 I don’t know what I wish more right now; that Teddy Bear was with me, or that Tom and I were sound asleep in the middle of nowhere, drifting on the ocean, knowing that the radar would sense any approaching ships, sounding off its alarm to warn us.

I spoke to Gina yesterday, who called to let me know I have 25 hours for the month of August. I have just 18 hours left, and she said Tom could pick up bottles this Saturday when he drops off recyclable stuff, even though it’s not my week, cuz there are tons of bottles.

We also got to talking a bit about my case.

“Publish that book,” she says! “It’s a topic that needs to be addressed more.”

I’d have to edit out too much shit to publish it. If I can’t tell a story like it is, then it’s not worth telling.

So, do I think the freeloaders know I’m almost done with my community service? Sure I do. I’m sure they’re given regular little report cards along the way.

Today’s Tom’s mom’s birthday. She’s 78.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 28, 2001 Oh, Teddy Bear, I miss you so bad at times it hurts! My eyes sting with tears. A part of me wishes we’d never met. It’d be easier, that’s for sure. I totally regret not being able to be with her just as much as I have no regrets about marrying Tom. This goes beyond my wanting her between my legs; I fell in love with her. Completely and utterly in love with her.

I was bummed not to get a letter from Mary yesterday, but I know I will sooner or later. I was thinking about how she said they might make a movie about her case, and you know, I’m really surprised they haven’t made one about my case. Hers is certainly far more movie material than mine, but with all the media attention it’s already gotten, a movie wouldn’t surprise me. Anything and everything is entertainment these days. It doesn’t matter how serious or how petty it is.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 24, 2001 Just got out of the tub which the freeloaders take over tomorrow. It’s looking like I’m going to be right about finishing the community service in September, then the freeloaders will let me have my tub back for good (I hope!).

I back-combed my long bangs to poof them out, threw my hair in a braid (just below the waist when pulled straight), and now I’m ready to finish off the night with reading, writing and music. I already did my workout.

They definitely would’ve called by now if my thyroid was out of whack, so I’m just naturally heavy like most people over 30. To keep my weight from going any higher, I’ll still have between 1000-1200 calories, with the exception of my weekly treat, and I’ll still work at building muscle, but I have no choice but to accept the fact that I’ll be between 115-120 pounds indefinitely.

Autumn, the doll that Mary and Dave got me for Christmas, has arms that are bent, so I put the little teddy bear that the first doll I got (the one I stole at the Vista) had in the crook of her arm and packed the other doll away. I’m sick of that old doll.

I looked at all my dolls and decided which ones I’d take and which ones I’d leave behind if we were going on the boat now. About half of them would go.

I want my Teddy Bear. Oh, how I still miss that woman! I lust for her, and yes, I did fall in love with her. I really really love her! I can’t keep from wondering, though – does she miss me, too? Does she think of me hour after hour, day after day? Is she single or not?

THURSDAY, AUGUST 23, 2001 I was thinking earlier how in all the apartments I’ve had in Arizona, I never got any complaints about blasting my music. Back east, though, I always did. Well, now I most certainly understand why! I couldn’t know at the time, though, while I was in the Arizona apartments that I was just being a normal, typical Arizonan, doing what was expected of me – sharing my music with those around me. Back east, though, this is not tolerated.

There was a dead scorpion on the floor of my office. This one was little and appeared to have been dead for weeks cuz of the way it crumbled when Tom picked it up, but how did it suddenly get there? I would’ve noticed it before.

This night is slowly dragging by (I got up at 4 PM). I guess I’ll just mainly do proofreading as well as regular reading and listening to music. At least I’m free, home, and freeloaderless, if I’m not on the boat yet, and even if I miss Teddy Bear, Mary, Rosa, Palma, Pérez, Chambers, Espi and Temple.

The pain in my knees seems to have gotten worse lately. I’m beginning to wonder when and if it’ll ever go away.

I thought that I’d make a little addition to Teddy Bear’s copy of the jailhouse journal just to be funny and to see how closely she reads it. I’d assume, though, that she’d read the whole thing pretty thoroughly. And get a kick out of most of it. Especially the parts pertaining to her. Anyway, I’m going to add that besides living in Georgia, she also told me she lived in Canada. You never know. It may just turn out that she really did!

I scanned Mary’s picture and printed out a few copies for her. That way, she’ll have copies to give to others if she wants to. I let her know I’d do this with any picture she wanted me to.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 22, 2001 Tom let them have it at work for using him. They’re totally taking advantage of him and ripping him off. He was supposed to get time off for overtime once he got salary pay, but instead, they’re running him ragged, working him overtime, and not giving him time off. He put his foot down today and let them know - this is ridiculous!

He saw his mom after work. I gave them all a bunch of puzzles and she gave Tom a couple to give to me. I started one earlier.

Tom also planted the seeds. Meaning, he told Mom how much I like Pepper, telling her not to tell Mary, knowing that she will anyway. That way she won’t feel put on the spot and like she has to make a decision right away as she would if it came directly from us.

They’re also getting a truck, and since we’ll never have one at the rate we’re going, they offered to let us use it anytime we want. That was very nice of them, and we appreciate the offer.

Now I’ll explain what I meant by “the boat.” Tom had the grandest idea yet on our way to Helen’s yesterday. Instead of buying other land elsewhere if we make a lot of money selling this place if the area builds up as I predicted, we could buy a boat and make our home the south Pacific Ocean! Oh, how I’d love that! That’d really be escaping civilization, that’s for sure! No people, no traffic, no spiders, no scorpions, no ants, no pigs, no freeloaders, no off-brands, no laws. Just Tom, whatever we have for pets at the time, fresh air, sky and water (burglars would be impossible)! I just hope we don’t have to wait 20 years to do it. Tom’s going to check into how much boats cost. I would think they wouldn’t really cost any more or less than houses on land do. Naturally, we couldn’t do this unless we could afford for Tom not to work. Hopefully, though, we won’t have to wait till he’s retired. We’d buy the boat outright, then our only expenses would be food, which we’d buy in bulk quantities (we’d get powdered milk instead of regular milk), and the fuel to run the generator for electricity. We’d probably have some type of cell phone, which is now capable of being functional in the middle of the ocean. We wouldn’t be able to have TV, though. A satellite needs to point in the same direction all the time, and we sure as hell couldn’t pick up cable TV out there. Although he’d miss TV, and I’d miss it for the music channels, he says he’d still have his computers and other things, as would I.

We’d have to do email for everything. Nobody could get mail to us, but I suppose we could get a PO Box somewhere in Hawaii, New Zealand or Australia.

I was surprised when Tom mentioned this. For some reason, I had always been under the impression that he didn’t like oceans and tropical climates. I love tropical as much as the desert. Maybe more. It’s the cold and the snow that I don’t miss! It may get a little nippy out at sea at times, but I don’t care. It’s a dream I intend to fulfill someday, and I think I can, too. It’s a material dream. It’s the “action” dreams like being a singer that don’t come true for me, although my Teddy Bear is no “thing.”

She and Mary are my only concerns, but who can say what kind of a relationship, if any, I’ll have with them at the time? It’s too soon to worry about that, as much as I wish Teddy Bear could be a part of my life forever. Again, that’s just not reasonable being with Tom. If I were single, then yes, perhaps we could have a life together, but I can’t expect her to always have a part-time fling going with me and not settle down with someone who can live with her and be with her full-time. Also, if I had to choose between her and the boat with Tom, you know I have to choose the boat with Tom. I wouldn’t think twice about that one.

What’ll be so cool is the constantly changing view. Here, although the view is gorgeous, it never changes. It’ll be similar, though, cuz for the most part, all we’ll see is water.

Because boats have built-in furniture, which you have to have for obvious reasons, we wouldn’t take a thing with us furniture-wise. We’d take the Bowflex, though, of course, and our personal shit. Not all of it, though. Breakables will have to be secured, which would be a bit of a bitch, so I’d probably leave my least favorite cheap dolls behind, as well as some knickknacks. We’d have an open-house tag sale. I may not even do mice on the boat. Rats, though, I’ll always have.

I wish we could do this before 10/2003 and stiff the black bitch, but I know that’s just a dream! They’d be so pissed too, if I absconded.

Someday, some future occupant of this house is going to be in for a surprise if they peel the Velcro panel off the side of the tub and discover the goodies I’m leaving behind – a few knickknacks I don’t want, an old ugly purse, a journal page, and some ugly material ma gave me. At each end of the tub, there’s a Velcro panel. The one by the faucet is where you can see the plumbing and all that, but the one towards the back of the tub is just hollow space.

Two mice broke out of one of the cages. As soon as we got back from Helen’s, I spotted one white mouse running across the bedroom, and another one pulled itself up on top of the maze. The maze sits on top of the small tank, and apparently, I hadn’t centered it, so there were gaps big enough for them to squeeze through. I could tell they broke out right before I got home. The animals aren’t used to me being out, as many appointments as I have, and it was around feeding time.

Little Buddy still comes out to run around and play with me a few times a day, and Teddy Bear screams at me all night long.

So I was right. When we moved, I was pretty much under the impression that this would be our last move. When we got here, though, I knew I was wrong. At least it’ll be a beautiful place and house to live in till we do sail to sea!

Serenity. That’s going to be our boat’s name.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 21, 2001 Better do some updating before I fall behind.

Later on, I have to go see Helen. Meanwhile, I had two appointments yesterday. I was in and out for blood work. It was the surprise urine sample they wanted that held me up, but it worked out OK because I had time to kill anyway between the two appointments. Still, if the doctor had told me that they’d want urine, I’d have drunk a lot beforehand. We sat at a table near the vending machines while I guzzled strawberry/kiwi punch till I could go.

Again, this dentist is way better. She has a rapid, high-pitched voice that’s a bit obnoxious, but she’s very friendly, telling me I’m a good patient, and she does a good job. She filled my fillings quickly and painlessly, taking the time to tell me what she was doing, step by step.

I had commented on it being cold in there, then went to the bathroom in between the two fillings I had done (one was to repair a loose one). When I returned, I found that they were kind enough to give me a blanket!

I can’t wait till September 17th. That’ll be the day I’ll not only get the custom-made trays for the fluoride and bleach treatments but both upper and lower teeth will be permanently arched! It’ll take 3 installments of $130, though. Hopefully, I’ll never have to put so much money in my mouth again!

After the dentist, we went to Mary’s. Of course, Mary and Dave were at work and Ma was at daycare. We did wait around to see them, though. We hit the pool and Pepper was so funny. I like that dog more and more each time I see him, and I think that in a year or so if we get fences and a doggie door, that dog will be ours. Tom says Mary would hand him over to us the second we said the word. He follows me around a lot and sits by my feet. He’s a 40-pound black cocker spaniel. They got him from the Humane Society. He was a lot of fun when we were swimming, lapping up the water as I’d make waves by jumping off the diving board. I even dived too, which Mary says is scary. Anyway, poor Pepper ended up throwing up all that chlorinated pool water he drank. He took a shit too, in the house that Tom stepped on.

I got two letters from Mary in which she enclosed a picture the media took in one of them. It’s a nice picture, too. Her makeup looks nice. Nice full lips I wish I had. Her red hair tips were brown, though. Upon the suggestion of her lawyer, she’d take brown crayons prior to every court appearance and color the red part brown to match the rest of it. She looks awfully thin, though. In the picture, her lawyer sits next to her, but I cropped him out and put her in a small frame in the den.

She says she didn’t flee to Florida with “Monster.” Monster went first to try to escape his child abuse charges, and then she met up with him later. I’d certainly believe her before I believed anything the media said.

She also says she’s in 4 now, and her only celly at the moment is Nancy, who’s facing 30-50 years and goes to trial on the 20th (yesterday). I was shocked when I heard 30-50 years! I thought it was more like 7.

Marla went to the tents and then to Alpha, and Laticia goes home in a couple of months to do 7 years of intense probation. She too, doesn’t care for Laticia and her loud, rude, obnoxious ways. She says she’s a snitch, too (I believe it). Then she told me something concerning Laticia and Teresa. I thought these bitches were buddies, but they’ve obviously turned on each other from what it sounds like. I couldn’t quite understand what Mary was telling me, though. Something about Teresa writing some letter that Laticia snitched on her for, getting her into more trouble. The men in black and the FBI came and tore up her cell and interrogated her cellmates.

So, of the people I knew, Laticia, Teresa, Marla, and Nancy are still there. There’s probably more. I’ll bet Becky’s still there, too.

She says the DOs that usually do 1st shift are Tomaszewski, Toye, Hudgens, and Vasquez.

So Toye and Hudgens are no longer 2nd and 3rd shifts, huh? So many DOs have switched shifts. She didn’t mention Teddy Bear, so I asked her if she’s still on 2nd shift on her usual day of Monday. I kind of wish she’d switch to 1st shift. Because I’m not a morning person, we could hang out together after work if she wanted to. The only problem with that is that that’s when Tom’s home and she couldn’t stay up late with me if she had to be at work early. It’d be ideal if she was 1st shift and Tom was 2nd or 3rd.

She says 3rd shift is all new except for Jones (I asked her if Pérez ever switched to 2nd shift like she mentioned), there are a few new 2nd shift DOs, but Gibb works a lot, too.

Then she had me laughing my ass off after she said, “It’s Gibb, isn’t it?” I was like, Gibb? Gibb??? Gotta guess a little taller than that, Mary!

I don’t know why in the world she thinks it’s Gibb. She begged for a hint, so I told her she has a slight southern drawl. It’s very slight, but it’s there.

She says that although she still wants to get a book out there, she’s been having writer’s block. Also, they may make a movie about her case, which would be too bad, since they’d plug in whatever they wanted into the story. It’d be best if she got a book out so that there could be a true version of her story, although folks are always going to believe what they want to believe.

Later…

Saw Helen. I asked for her feedback about the fact that Tom and I haven’t had sex since I’ve been out. I explained to her that neither of us has been interested in that, although we still love each other. She said she’s heard people tell her that their relationships have evolved into platonic relationships after being together for many years. She said that as long as we’re both happy, why worry about or try to change what works for us? She said if it works for us both, it’s fine.

That’s what I figured she’d say, but I just wanted to make sure. I agree with her, too. She did say, though, to let Tom know that I’m open to discussion about it should he decide to bring it up in the future.

Of course. I’m up to discussing anything.

Anyway, Helen assured me I wasn’t neglecting him and that he’s a big boy who can speak up and come to me if he wants to do anything, and I believe this. For now, if we’re happy as we are, that’s all that matters, and I won’t bring the subject up unless he does, though Helen urges me to go to him if I want it. We’ll see. Who knows how I’ll feel down the road?

He told me earlier he was confused about us sleeping together. I had thought he said he wanted to do this when I got out, but then he said I didn’t want to. Well, let’s put it this way. I’m not going to say we’ll never try sleeping together, but for now, with my having so many appointments, I’d rather wait. I probably could get back to sleep at this point if he kept waking me up. I just didn’t think this was a good time to try. If I could ever get my appointments down, then maybe. Or better yet, I’d like to wait till we get to the boat cuz boats move all the time (I’ll explain the ‘boat’ later), which I’m hoping won’t take too many years. Since we’re platonic, and appearing more and more like we’re going to settle into being that way indefinitely or forever, there’s no hurry. Hell, my grandparents never slept together. A lot of couples don’t. Either way, we know we’ll both always love each other, and again, that’s what it all comes down to. That’s what’s most important. Where we sleep is secondary to that. I love him whether or not he sleeps 3” or 70’ away from me.

Helen also read this thing to me, explaining the difference between anger and rage and its destructiveness. She also read to me the positive side of anger and how it sometimes helps to motivate us.

We also talked about how I’m afraid to succeed for fear of someone ruining my accomplishments or stealing them from me altogether.

After Helen’s, we stopped at that pet store to pick up sawdust. Pine and cedar bedding are supposed to be bad for critters, so we’re trying something new. It’s 100% recycled paper. It’s tiny clumps that look like gray gravel. It’s almost damp-like. So far, I like how it’s dust-free, but time will tell if it really lasts twice as long and how well it absorbs piss and odors.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 19, 2001 It’s looking less and less likely, at least to me, that I’ll be getting any kind of a home job. Thanks to the freeloaders, there’s only so much I can do anyway, as a convicted felon. Tom still thinks I ought to try to write for profit, and that we could still do farming, but I don’t see it. Besides, I’m afraid to set goals for myself and to set out to do any particular thing because that’s never worked for me in the past. Besides, I’ve been a homemaker for so long that it’s obviously what I’m meant to be. I wouldn’t have been this way this long if it weren’t for a reason, and because I’ve been this way as long as I have, it seems unlikely that it’d change.

Anyway, I’ll be the bored homemaker that I was before the freeloaders took over my life, but at least I’ll be a free one. Not totally free, though. Not for a couple of years yet. I still gotta do this for them and do that for them. What I’m saying is I’d rather be bored in the comfort of my own big, beautiful home, than cramped in a jail cell with cellies that are loud, rude and obnoxious, waking me up all the time, along with the nurse screaming, “Are you OK?” And the clothes exchanges. And the 8:00 hour outs for scalding hot or ice-cold showers. And the cold, starchy food.

I think another thing that’s got me hesitant to get into things like writing, besides the fact that I don’t think I’m good enough, know that publishing’s a bitch, and don’t feel it’s meant to be, is because if I did succeed, I know it’d just be a matter of time before somebody came and tore down whatever success I built up for myself. It’s like – why work out faithfully when the freeloaders may come and tear down all the muscles I built up by having me thrown in jail for half a year? Why get a farm going when the freeloaders could come and kill all the animals?

I know it’s a shitty attitude to have and that’s letting them win and stop me from living life (whenever I get the opportunity to do so), but I can’t help but feel the way I do.

The queen of appointments here has two appointments tomorrow, and amazingly enough, none are for the freeloaders. I’m getting blood drawn, then I’m going to the dentist. After that, we’re going to go swimming at Mary’s.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 18, 2001 Got up at noon today. We dropped some bottles off, sprayed the outside of the doors/windows (there were 3 spiders in here last night), put gas in the car, got us each a blizzard from Dairy Queen, headed home and now another tire is leaking air.

We think we know where the mice broke in. Probably through the vent in the bathroom area. That’s where I initially heard the chewing sounds, and besides, I could feel air coming through an outlet in that area when the AC was on. Leave it to us to have this happen. I’ll bet if we asked every single owner of a manufactured home within a 20-mile radius, no one would say they had anything like that happen to them.

Tom did some cleaning on my computer and I did some housecleaning. I also changed the pig and the rats. Now all I have to do is work out. I decided to work out every day, rather than alternate between upper body one day and lower body the next. It’s not like I’m working each muscle for an hour, so it won’t be too much for me. It’s just that I know I’m not going to lose the fat, so I may as well concentrate on getting as strong as I can and building up as much muscle as I can.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 17, 2001 Got a picture of Mary attached to her email to me.

Yesterday, when my alarm went off at 10:00, I was having one of those typical jail dreams I have periodically. Not where I’m being thrown back in there, but where I never left. In the dream, I was alone in what appeared to be a nice, comfortable room, rather than a cell. A DO I’d never seen before came in asking why I was in Ad-Seg. I knew I had a month left to go. In fact, my release date was something like March 6th. I tried to make up any excuse I could, but she insisted I return to general pop and told me to roll up. Suddenly, I was milling about as if I were some trustee when the alarm went off. I hit the snooze button and fell back asleep, hoping that the dream would continue so I could see if I was thrown in the tents or the dorms and it did. I realized, in the dream, that it had been a few hours since my moving was mentioned and hoped that they had forgotten about it, but they didn’t. Just as I was thinking this, though, a voice over a loudspeaker told me to roll up. Then I awoke again before I could protest or find out where I was going.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 15, 2001 Apple Cheeks came today at 10:30, a half-hour after I woke up. I know I’m in for a drug test next time I report. He was telling me to always bring my meds with me in case he has to test me.

I shredded a bunch of old journal printouts for the mice to use as nesting, and boy was I wrong when I saw that upon sending the journals to the welfare bums, I said that cops act on actions and not words. Not in this state! It used to be that way, though, and it probably still is in most places.

The toys came today. I thought I ordered 2 vibrators, but I guess not, according to the invoice. I still got 2 anyway, because one of them was a freebie. We also got a video and some raspberry warming massage gel. Teddy Bear could put it on my clitty and lick it off!

Not that I mind since it’s mutual, but Tom shows no more desire for sex with me than I do with him. No apparent interest in sleeping together, either. I wonder why he said he was so excited about it. I guess he was just being what he felt was “polite,” so to speak. The proper thing to say, I guess. I guess for some people, it’s easier to say that than to admit you’re not interested, but he’s never been all that interested anyway. I can tell he’s been this way all his life, too. This isn’t usually something that you acquire with age. I wonder if any of his exes ever left him over his lack of appetite and lack of cumming. I’d think he’d tell me if they did, but maybe not. That’s not an easy thing to admit, either. He didn’t admit up front how he was sexually. He just waited till I found out for myself. At least I know he still loves me, despite what he may or may not feel in regard to sex.

I was thinking last night how his room still needed a nightstand, and then I glanced over at the little shelves in my room on the other side of the bed and realized it was a waste having it sit there just to hold a couple of dolls, some books and a few knickknacks when it could serve as a nightstand in that room. So, I moved it in there today and rearranged a lot of the rooms in general. Actually, just our rooms and my office.

MONDAY, AUGUST 13, 2001 Another scorpion down. I was working out when I noticed it. This one was huge! It was twice as big as the other one I killed, nearly 3” long. It was on the living room windowsill.

Saw Dr. Rose today. He gave me refills on the nasal spray and inhaler. In place of the Theo, he’s giving me an inhaler I used to take a while back. He’s also sending me for blood work to run tests to see if I’ve got anything going on that’s been causing the ridges in my nails, or if it’s just the way I am. It’s probably just the way I am, but we’ll see. This test also tests the thyroid, too.

Afterward, we went to Walgreens. I got another sports bra, a pair of panties, and glitter nail polish that turns from fuchsia to pink as your body heat warms it. Run your fingers under cold water, and it’s bright pink again! It’s pretty cool. I put some on Bailey’s nails and Angel’s lips.

I also got a new Barbie in a 2-piece bathing suit with bold colors – pink, lime green and purple. At first I didn’t think it was all that different from my others, but not only is her hairstyle slightly different, but she’s got a sculpted belly with a belly button and all.

Tom said that according to the prints on the ground, the horses that were here were not wild horses because they were wearing shoes.

People let their dogs roam loose out here, so why not their horses, too?

I noticed that some of the male babies’ balls are dropping, so I sexed them as best as I could. I’ll keep an eye on them as they develop and try to pair boys with men and girls with women. I still intend to breed more. I’d just like to have some control over who breeds with whom, if possible. It appears that this time around, there are a lot more girls than boys.

Oh, Teddy Bear, I still miss you so much!

SATURDAY, AUGUST 11, 2001 Although I’m polite and not friendly when it comes to Apple Cheeks, we ended up making a little bit of small talk yesterday, anyway. He was asking Tom about his job and telling me, “Well, your community service is almost done, you’re almost done with the anger management, you got the screening done, so all you have to do is stay out of trouble and report.”

This was good to hear. Meaning, I took it as a good sign saying he won’t harass me about the job. Tom says that unless I can find a job working for someone, I shouldn’t even bother to tell him. Meaning that if I end up being an independent contractor, I should never divulge my edges, so to speak, and not use them unless I need to. However, he did ask me what medications I was on. For him to ask this out of the blue and for the first time in a while, makes me think I’m in for a drug test next time around.

Jack and Jill turned out to be Jack and Zach, so I set them free yesterday about a mile from the house. I didn’t want them anyway, because they chewed so fiercely that there’d have been no way I could keep them in any of the cages for too long. They just weren’t happy here, either.

Tom picked up bottles this morning and told Gina that I didn’t come along so he could fit more in. As we figured, this was no problem.

Later…

Tom downloaded me a few programs to try out that encrypt files. Any kind of file. Not just doc files. The first one was risky because you only got one shot at typing in your code. If you made a typo, and couldn’t figure out what that typo was, you could never get into the file again, so that one wasn’t good. The next one let you confirm your password, allowing you to type it twice to make sure it matched up with the first one you typed, but it created other files I didn’t want that sort of defeated the purpose. The one I settled on allows me to confirm, use the same code for each file, and choose whether or not I encrypted a few files or my whole directory. First I encrypted my whole directory and then I decrypted the files I didn’t feel were necessary to be encrypted, like my doll and pet charts and petty shit like that. It’s the journal files I wanted to be encrypted.

It’s not as convenient, because now, each time I go to use the computer, I have to first decrypt the files I want to use, then encrypt them when I shut down. I think it’s worth the time and effort, though. Not that I’ve got anything to hide, but because I fear my stuff being stolen by the pigs and I don’t want to make things easier on them. If you did not receive my permission to read my journals or any parts of them, then you will not read them! Period. Any unauthorized people will get garbage; a bunch of meaningless letters, numbers and symbols.

I backed up all my stuff again too, so the stuff on floppies is now encrypted as well. I have a floppy on a couple of dolls that contain my current stuff. Then I have a backup that I keep right here on my desk and a set in the vent. Tom will take care of backing me up on CD and putting that in the ground.

I’m not even going to say what my code is in this journal because they could come and seize this while I was in the middle of working on it. I know it’s being overly cautious and paranoid, but after all I’ve been through, I could never be too cautious/paranoid. Logically looking at it, it seems so unlikely that they’d seize my computer, but we never thought they’d throw me in jail for 6 months over a letter, either. In this state, with the way the system is, one can never be sure of anything.

I’m on a roll vibe-wise. First I vibed that something significant would happen on the 8th, then I vibed the August car trouble, and the last time we got tickets, I vibed we’d win. We did. His ticket won twice on Bingo. A total of $5.

We’re trying out a different mice arrangement. I wanted to just throw them all together and dump the ones I didn’t want to keep the population at a steady 30 or so mice, but he suggested we separate the adult females. Then as the younger females get pregnant, pull them out and put them with the other ladies, and basically keep doing that till we get all the mice we want. It’s just a bitch sexing them! Until they’re older, after they’ve started breeding, it’s not that easy to tell them apart.

When I was changing the rat’s cage, I set the bars on the floor with them inside it. I noticed Little Buddy seemed to be having trouble getting out through the part that’s wider and sits down inside the base, so I put the wire roof back on. Sure enough, though, he came to visit me in the bathroom as I was working on bottles. So, the plastic shelves were put back on.

I wonder just what in the world is up with Paula? I’ve only gotten one letter from her since I’ve been home. Maybe I should quit writing to her till I hear from her. You never know if she’s stuck in jail! I want to make sure she’s OK and getting my mail before I keep writing. I wish she’d write at least once a month! Like the first of every month. It doesn’t have to be a novel. Just the basic highlights of her life would do.

I take that back. Maybe I will have something to hide but from Tom and not the pigs. I still doubt Tom snoops into these journals, but once again, you can’t be too sure about anything in this world. If anything happens between Teddy Bear and I, it could hurt his feelings if he read up on it, although I say that if you’re going to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, you ask for and deserve what you might get from it.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 9, 2001 Yesterday turned out to be quite an interesting day. For starters, I was right about it being a day for things to happen. I just didn’t know if they’d be good things or not. One thing that happened was that we got a check from the government we were waiting on. Another thing is that Tom got offered a job as a night shift manager. He was torn between accepting and declining. He wants more money, but he doesn’t want to work nights. Unfortunately, their 2nd shift is considered to be from 5 PM-1 AM, rather than 3 PM-11 PM. So, since God has called upon us to serve and cater to a few of his precious freeloaders, the freeloaders would then interfere with his sleep time rather than his work time, depending on the time of the appointment (wouldn’t God just love us if we gave a percentage of our income to the freeloaders?). I still think he’ll end up taking the job, though, and he still swears he’s going to help me get a home job. Yeah, we’ll get ahead again financially so God can send some more freeloaders to fuck us over and set us back.

Also, yesterday, while I was sitting at the computer, a horse walked by the window! I went outside and there were 4 of them! They were beautiful too, and each one was a different color. They didn’t have any people or bridles on, so they might’ve been wild horses. The one that passed by the window headed towards the back and down to the old single-wide that I guess will forever sit on Dan’s property (I still call it “Dan’s property” because I don’t know who they are). The other 3 were by next door’s shacks, then they ran, neighing all the way, around the front of our house, towards the back, then down by where the other horse had gone.

Of God’s many highlights for me in life, I don’t have to say that one of his favorite things to have happened to me is for me to have my shit taken. For obvious reasons, after having Dureen, the lovely staff members of the places I was in as a kid, then the jail, as well as a few so-called “friends” along the way like Crystal C, I’m paranoid about my stuff. Even money-wise I’ve been severely taken advantage of, before and after meeting Tom. There were people like Nellie R ripping me off on Oswego Street, and now it’s contractors and freeloaders. Therefore, despite how low the chances may be of the pigs legally stealing my journals, Tom’s going to show me how to encrypt them this weekend. If I encrypt them, then they’ll be scrambled. Only I’ll be able to decipher them because I’ll be the only one with the code (password) to open the files. I’m going to scramble all my doc files. Having hidden text would be useless cuz there are plenty of ways to expose hidden text. So, unless Tom’s lying, and he knows of a way he can hack into them, no one can ever get into them but me. I can back them up onto floppies encrypted, too. I can’t yet say what my code words will be or where we’re hiding backups till this is scrambled.

This way, if the pigs do rip off the computers or any disks, I can at least laugh at them when they can’t break into the doc files. With my shit luck, though, the control junkies will bribe me by threatening me with years in prison if I don’t tell them the code. Pigs will get information any way they can. They don’t care who they hurt along the way, either. But I’ll be damned if I’ll make anything easy for them or cooperate with them in any way. We’d be long gone long before they could imprison me for not letting them get their way. As Tom said, though, I have to make sure I remember what the code is, or else I’ll never be able to get back in.

I just brought the two wild ones and their little cage into the office. They’re sitting on the shelf right by the monitor. Maybe if they’re around me more often, they’ll calm down a bit, but I don’t know. It never worked with Gizzy. If Jill’s not pregnant by September 1st, I’ll be kicking them both out.

Tomorrow I’ve got to see Apple Cheeks, but I’m not going to be tagging along on Saturday to pick up bottles. I’m only going along on every other pick-up. That way he can have more room to get more in.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8, 2001 Tom was right, so far, and the appointment yesterday was a breeze. You just cost us another $60, you fucking freeloaders! Despite the additional money, I, the victim, have lost, it was just a matter of answering a whole lot of personal questions concerning my emotional and physical being. I thought some of the questions were pretty funny, like – do I feel pushed around? Do I sometimes wish I was never born?

Do I ever!

Then he says to me, “Well, you’re married, so I assume you’re heterosexual,” when he brought up the subject of sexual orientation.

“Actually, I’m bi,” I answered.

Not that I’m ashamed to say so, but what does my sexual preference have to do with this so-called letter I’m supposed to have written? They even marked that I was white on one of their forms. Why? So they can know who to discriminate against?

Tom, who was with me during my talk with this lady and then the guy who interviewed me, was as confused as we were as to what they wanted. They mainly deal with drug and alcohol cases. Not this shit. So they called Scot, who said that this was just a formality. I informed them up front that I did not intend to return to them and that I already had a therapist. They agreed and wrote the letter Scot said he needed, saying that they don’t see any reason to treat me further. It’s just one of those things the state requires; a letter saying someone is or isn’t crazy. Those fucking courts still need to be more specific when they say immediate and specify whether or not immediate means upon sentencing, or upon release from jail.

Tom was saying how that’s one more thing we can check off as done, but I don’t know. It seems that whenever we check something off our little freeloader list, they add something else right back on. And more money, too.

I still don’t know what shocks me more. Just the fact that I got arrested for this shit, or the outrageous sentence I got for it. You can go to court for anything. Anything. Especially if you’re not white. You can bitch about anything. Even journals that you, as an adult, had the right to ignore and weren’t forced to read. It’s like the little boy who ran to his teacher because another little boy called him stupid. Where do we draw the line as to what we can go running to the piggies and courts for? They’re not our parents, for Christ’s sake!

People need to find their proper places. An example of that is Stacey from the Vista Ventana. She should never have gotten involved in my disputes with other tenants. It wasn’t her place to stick her nose into my personal business like that. If I had been loud like the cock above me was in the first building and like the butch was in the second building, that’d be different. Her job was to see to it that tenants followed pool rules, weren’t rowdy and noisy, weren’t destroying things, were paying their rent, etc., but as far as my phone calls to others; this was none of her concern. Stacy was so much like Donna A and Dureen O. Anything to control others.

Just as I predicted in either May or June, we’re having car trouble. I said we’d have it in August, and sure enough, as soon as August was upon us, so was the car curse. It doesn’t always want to start right away. Tom has to clean off corrosion that’s gunked up on some cables.

Around mid-July, I had a vibe concerning today but didn’t know if it was good or bad. I’m hoping it has to do with the better job/raise Tom said he’s been hoping for at the bank.

Now for the best news – I finally heard from Mary! She said she did get my letters. One of hers to me was returned saying “attempted, unknown,” but I don’t know what this meant. Maybe they just didn’t like the idea of sending out letters to someone with only their first name since she had been sending letters to “Dawn.” I even decided to start sticking our new address labels on. Who cares if any nosy DOs read my mail to her? I’m not saying anything wrong. And as far as Scot goes – he can tell me what to do, but I’ll follow my heart and do what I think is best.

I’m sending her 5 pictures per letter, which is all that’s allowed at once. They can’t be bigger than 5 x 3. Pictures of the animals, us, the house, the land.

She mentioned wanting to take all the letters she’s written to friends someday and publish them, so I went ahead and typed up the 3 letters I’ve received from her so far and sent them to her. I told her she’d have 2 files on my computer. One for her letters to me (I’ll trash the originals) and one for her life’s story.

Her writing’s getting easier to read as I get used to it, though it’s still too big and the lines run too closely together. She’s not a great speller, but better than most. She never uses periods, though. All she uses are commas. She never uses caps, either, or makes paragraphs, so as I explained to her, that as her editor, I’d fine-tune stuff like this. Sometimes she writes the word “there” when it’s supposed to be “their”, so I’ll also be correcting grammatical stuff as best I can. I asked her to be more specific with commas and periods. Although I can pretty much figure out when to put periods in, based on the context of what she’s saying, it’ll go faster and easier for me if she’s more specific on that.

She says she’s still having trouble picking up a pencil to write because some airhead once discouraged her really badly. I told her to fuck that airhead and just write, letting her know she’d be the author and that I’d simply be the one getting her story typed and out there (hopefully). Unsure of how to go about it, I suggested she either write her story in chunks or by subjects. Maybe write her preteen years, then her teenage years, and then her 20s. Or go by events, both good and bad, in the order that she remembers them.

She said Palma hasn’t worked there since she’s been back, and that was shortly after I left.

She said she figured I’d check up on her case, but not to believe it cuz they’re liars.

I hope one particularly disturbing part was a lie, that’s for sure! Some articles I found say she was killed and buried right away. Others say she was in agony for days with a broken arm and fractured skull before she was buried.

Myra C, yes, but I can’t imagine Mary G of all people, no matter how much of a fugitive she may’ve been, sitting around doing nothing while her child suffered like that. The only way that could’ve happened is if Justin wouldn’t let her get help. Mary could never be that selfish.

She commended me for writing my own book, which I reminded her she could have as soon as she got out of there. She still doesn’t know when that’ll be.

She said she found out from an inmate that Myra’s already been beat up in prison.

I figured she would be. She’s the type that’ll get regular beatings, but the pervert deserves anything she gets, even death.

She said that the pictures were great.

I told Miss Balls of Brass that although I can’t say who it is with her still in there, she’s going to call me Miss Balls of Brass since no one did my dirty work for me as far as Teddy Bear goes. I hit on her all by myself. It still stuns the shit out of me that I got her! It was mutual!

She also says that when she gets out she wants to dye her hair fuchsia, grow it down to her kneecaps, and be an activist for battered women. She wants me to go along with her on this, too.

Then, for the first time since meeting her just over 7 months ago, I wondered if her fondness for me could go deeper than I ever realized. I hope not, cuz I don’t like fems that are weaker than me, not that it would really matter. I mean, what’s she gonna do? Rape me? Women don’t usually do that to other women. I’m not worried about it. It’s not important as long as she’s a good friend.

What made me start to wonder? All the comments she’s made like how she wants it to be where you see one, you see the other. You’re the bomb, we’re a team, we need each other, it was meant to be, I so do love you, you’re my shining star, and all the praise and compliments she’s lavished upon me.

The babies are ready for segregation. They’re all getting around and eating and drinking, although they still nurse a bit. However, as is usually the case for me, they all looked the same when I tried to sex them. They all looked like girls. So, I’ll have Tom help me this weekend. I wish the guy’s balls were developed from the get-go, but by the time it’s easy to sex them, it’s too late and they’re already breeding.

MONDAY, AUGUST 6, 2001 Today I made another backup copy of my doc files and put them on floppies, which I hid in a place I can’t say. That way, if any nosy beings called pigs do search the place, they shouldn’t be found. It’d be very unlikely, anyway.

I can tell you firsthand that if they storm us, it’s not about Tom and Jodi having anything bad. It’s about power and control. I’ve had enough experience with Valleyhead, Brattleboro, Doe, jail, etc., to know that they wouldn’t leave empty-handed just because we have nothing bad for them to find. They won’t go through the hassle of coming out here and tearing the place apart without taking something. Even people like Chambers, who was far from the extreme, felt we were just too clean and that she had to take something, so she swiped my extra towel.

If you don’t give people who are doing searches a reason to take something, they’ll find a reason of their own. Sorry, though, piggies. You’ll never get those hidden disks from me!

Tomorrow will be another appointment for the freeloaders, another $60 spent for the freeloaders, and another session with somebody else deciding what I need. Tom said it’s covered under our insurance, should they decide I need more than the initial appointment. That’s not the point. Enough is enough already! That’s the point.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 5, 2001 Saw Scot last Friday and gave him a copy of Helen’s letter. I’ve completed 61 hours of community service and have 39 to go. Then he can harass me about my “not working.” Tom still thinks he won’t bring it up again. Well, if he does, he’ll quickly find that he’s wasting his time. Old fashioned or not, I’m not going to take just any job. I can’t take just any job anyway, in my case. When I find a home job, I find one. And it’s going to be because I want it and not because society or the courts said I should or had to.

Tom and I also remember things differently pertaining to that. He says Scot said he wasn’t going to worry about it, but I remember him saying we’d worry about the job after the community service is done. Well, I’m not worried about it, but he can worry about it all he wants if he’d like.

Now for the best news, non-freeloader related. We have wild mice in our vents! The bad to that is that Tom has to crawl under the house with all the snakes, scorpions and God knows what else, to find out where they’re coming in from, which will be hard. If there are any significant holes in the vent, we could lose a lot of the AC, but so far I haven’t noticed a difference in the cooling.

I heard a sound coming from the vent late in the night a couple of nights ago and saw a mouse go by. Tom saw them yesterday morning and said they were Fancy mice that I lost. Impossible, I told him, going by my count. I know how many mice I have and I’d know if any were missing. Also, it would’ve had to have gone down there when it was close to newborn, in order to fit through the vent’s grill, then miraculously survived this long. I would’ve heard chewing sounds long before I did, too.

Anyway, I set up the trap and we’ve got one caught so far, but there’s at least one more down there I’m waiting to catch. Tom’s not sure, but I’m sure it’s a wild mouse. It’s a full-grown male, judging by its well-developed balls, and is half the size Fancy mice get to be. Although its fur is a bit thick and shiny, the colors differ from my other mice. It’s a good-looking mouse. It’s of various shades of brown.

I’ve got it in one of the Play City cages I wished I’d had when I caught Gizzy in Phoenix. It can’t escape this cage. However, I can’t throw it in with the boys with the way it jumps high enough to escape the tank, even though it’s not as spastic as Gizzy was, and I can’t afford to have one or two mice hogging up a cage like that, so I’m going to put it in the wire cage we brought Ratsy home in. A part of it is outside, though, and I have to wait till it’s light and he gets up and goes out to get it.

Later…

Caught the other mouse. This one’s smaller and appears to be a girl. She’s got the same coloring with a slight light spot on her head. I think the boy’s full-grown and that this one’s still young. Jack and Jill may not be able to live in the wire cage because they may slip through the wires. I know Jill could. She slipped through the rungs of the wheel, which is about the same width or smaller. I could’ve sworn the mouse I saw was bigger than these two, so I set up the trap again and will keep on doing so till I stop trapping mice.

Tom saw a dirt-colored snake sitting in the shade of the utility pole a few feet from the house. By the time we went back out with the camera, it was gone.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 2, 2001 Although I’m tired, the freeloaders say I have to stay up till at least 2 PM. Yesterday, I only slept 8 hours and got up at 10 PM instead of midnight, like I had planned on getting up at. So, if I stay up till at least 2:00, I should sleep till 1 AM and not be so tired 12 hours later when my bosses have me see Scot. Watch. With my shit luck, he’ll want to do a drug test which will keep me there a lot longer.

We may end up with around 60 mice here! The average mouse has 6 babies per litter, and if I’ve got at least 5 pregnant mice, then I could end up with about 60 mice whenever they finally quit having babies.

What’s really cool is that the pig and the mice all get along with each other. I was remembering how the pet store I got Houdini and Scuttles from had guinea pigs mixed in with mice, hamsters, and gerbils, and decided to give it a try since neither is aggressive like rats can be. This is great cuz now the mice have more room. Something they’re going to need!

Tuesday, my bosses say I have to serve them yet again by going to that MH screening appointment.

I can’t wait!

Maybe they’ll butt out of my schedule and stop costing us money someday, but I don’t know. I wouldn’t count on it. Not in this life, and certainly not any time in the near future. I’ve got years yet that they’ll seize ownership of me and my life.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 1, 2001 I’m currently doing a rollover with my schedule. Oh, how good it feels to sleep 10 hours! I wake up for a while, though, on the 4th hour. I’m up 18 hours when I don’t take the Melatonin. Sometimes I’m up for the normal 16 hours without it, but usually, it’s more like 18 hours.

Ordered some new toys from an adult catalog. My vibrator just broke. This one lasted the longest, though. I think I got it when we first moved in here. Maybe I even got it in Phoenix. I’m not sure.

Anyway, I totally prefer to go it alone sexually and fantasize about Teddy Bear till I can have her for real. I’m sorry, but I just can’t get into Tom as much as I love him. By his behavior, I can see he’s OK with it, though, and isn’t any more interested in sex with me than I am with him.

I wonder, though – what will it be like with Teddy Bear? I have a feeling she’ll be a bore in bed, as shy as she is, but I don’t care. I just want her at least once just so I can get her out of my system and know that I did it with her, someone I’m attracted to. If it really does happen, like I predict it will, she’ll be the biggest turn-on. Meaning, the one I was most attracted to out of everyone I’ve ever been with, be it for just one night or longer. I wonder if my lusting for her like I do will make me self-conscious in bed, and if the shock of it finally happening will prevent me from cumming? It’s been like being forced to wait for a cigarette I crave. Well, I want that cigarette one of these days, though I doubt we’ll do anything the first few times I see her. I’ll bet I’ll end up being the one who’ll have to initiate the fun, too. I still care about her as a person and hope she’s a regular part of my life for as long as possible, but I lust for her sooo bad! Just like it’s easy for me to say I wish I’d met Tom sooner than I did, a part of me wishes I’d met Teddy Bear first. As happy as I am with Tom, and as sure as I am that I want to be with him forever, it’s quite a pisser to have had such shitty luck with women for so many years as I did, then I meet this ideal woman. One with a hell of a personality and where the attraction is mutual. I’ll never know for sure, obviously, but I’m pretty sure we could’ve had a great relationship, as long as she was accepting of some of my more unusual ways. My not working might’ve concerned her more than my screwy schedule would have. I don’t know if she’d have been quite as accepting/tolerant as Tom. I don’t know if anyone could be as accepting/tolerant as Tom.

As far as what I got goes – I got a hell of a deal. All for just $17 I got 3 different vibrators, a free mystery gift, and 3 free videos, though I’m not a video person. Tom can check those out if he wants to. The free gift is probably a video, too.

I’m not only planning to use the toys for fun but to help heal the knee pain I’ve been having lately. I fucked up the ligaments in my knees somehow. At least I think that’s what it is. Maybe the concentrated buzzing of the vibrators will help more than the big heat massager thing I have.

Like I asked for, I got that letter from Helen to give to the mental health screening people. I made a copy for Scot to add to my file, too. In the letter she writes: I want to commend you on the progress with anger management I’ve seen in just the short time I’ve been seeing you since your release from jail. You appear much more accepting of all your experiences without the need for retaliation – even if it was all unfair. I believe you are also making good progress with all the requirements of your probation and I give you credit for that also.

I also asked her how many more visits she thought I should have, and she said exactly what I was thinking – we’ll wait till after the MH screening to decide, but maybe 3-5 more visits??

We received our new address labels – 24 scenic images. Naturally, the snowy ones don’t appeal to me.

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