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[lifvation]

We are hiring in Singapore Chinatown (CBD) area. 278 South Bridge Rd, Singapore 058827, Singapore Are you looking for a job? We have several vacancies.

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[jiminrings]

478 phase 3 part two (sneak peeks!! :D)

sneak peek 01

You have the terrifying idea in the back of your head, locked and loaded for anyone (read: Jungkook) to see if they take the additional second to ask you, that you’ll have to suffer all over again; that you’ll have to establish an ultimatum with a time limit of sorts, just so you can nullify the vacancy in you by pushing Jungkook away again.

Even now, a part of you wonders about Sora. 

She’s no longer a part of your husband’s life, for good this time, yet she occupies your mind every once in a while as if she’s a bad meal on a bad day you have to stomach over and over again. You want to vomit her out completely and rid yourself of the taste of being inferior to who came before you, and yet, she lingers like a stray who knows its home.

You wonder if she’s happy with her life and how it turned out, even if Jungkook’s no longer in it despite being each other’s first for everything. You wonder if she ever thinks about Jungkook whenever it’s April 23 or when she walks past tent bars; if she’s ever married now and has a family like you and her first love do.

You wonder about Sora from time to time because if Jungkook really loved her, you fear that a little bit of it would always linger.

In the same way that you had really loved a multitude of things growing up, little bits of them would always linger even if you’ve sworn off them. 

Your old obsession with tiny bottles of perfume you could only buy from boutiques (and never from malls) resurfaces whenever you visit your parents and magically, they always have a box filled up with your childhood shirts they’ve spared for Hwayoung to wear, imbued with a scent you can place to a memory, but not replicate.

The old fixation you had on patchwork blankets lingers whenever you head to the stockroom to store a PR package you could justify keeping for future purposes, only to see the unopened stacks of shirts you’ve gotten from numerous workshops, countries, and tapings as mementos throughout the years. They sit there in the dust, waiting patiently for you to take notice, but you avert your eyes as to not start a project you can’t bring yourself to finish.

The old liking you had towards the color orange stains on your fingers whenever you peel tangerines for Hwayoung, training a keen eye on her as she holds it for herself while slicing the portions you have at hand for her to eat safely. 

You wonder about Sora and if she ever holds the regret of letting go of Jungkook for someone like you.

You wonder if Jungkook’s love for her, although dissolved and voided already, lingers through the existence of Eunsu — someone who’s much, much different than you, just like Sora was.

Love is not supposed to feel heavy and you stand by it, because holding Hwayoung while carrying the backpack that’s meant to sustain the both of you in a foreign country, just because you don’t want any excess baggage as you surprise Jungkook out of nowhere, has never felt lighter in your heart.

Love is not supposed to feel heavy, even if you wonder why the door to Jungkook’s hotel room is open by itself without needing a key.

Love is not supposed to feel heavy, even if you meet several pairs of eyes that either locks or avoids your own, all for a multitude of reasons. 

“Jungkook,” you whisper, pupils shaking as you instinctively turn Hwayoung’s head away from the sight before you. “What’s going on?”

.

.

.

sneak peek 02

You know it’s going to come eventually.

You know the telltale dread that fills you up when something far bigger and beyond you is on its path to overtake you. The articles, the scrutiny, and the discourses haven’t even entered the stage yet you already feel sick because this time, it’s not only your name that’s going to be dragged into a situation you never thought would happen.

It’s also your daughter’s.

“We need to talk about Hwayoung,” you approach Jungkook as soon as you come home after your overtime, stilling in your tracks when you see Hwayoung sleeping in her pen.

Jungkook’s eyes linger on her before looking at you properly this time, the knot on his throat loosening at the prospect of what’s been bothering his mind repeatedly, but with the promise of a solution that he hasn’t arrived at, yet is bound to hurt him nonetheless.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

You sit on the far end of the baby blue floor couch as if you and Jungkook don’t share a home together.

“We look okay to her now but still,” you pause, looking down on your feet that are bruising from the heels you’ve been filming with all day and night. “I don’t want to put her in the middle of… everything that thisis.”

Jungkook nods, not only because he understands, but because he’s aware of everything, all the way from the guilt of being a husband to the guilt of being a dad. 

“She’s bound to ask questions too, and even if she’s not asking them now, I feel bad having to keep her in the dark.”

“She’s still young, Jungkook. I never thought I’d say this, but I mean,” you sigh, shrugging defeatedly as you try to look for the right words. “If we keep including her in situations that she shouldn’t be a part of, we’re only bringing her closer to harm. For all we know, someone somewhere has a picture of her during the trip.”

“I-I tried my best. I moved as fast as I-…”

“I know. I also tried my best when we took the trip to you,” you exhale heavily, trying to wrap your head around the complexity of the past week alone; you can’t even understand why you pushed yourself to go back to work immediately after going back home. “I’m not saying that Hwayoung’s known already. I’m just considering the possibility because we could never be too sure.”

Jungkook knows you’re trying to get rid of the guilt that forms in him for that matter, but for everything else, he knows better than to assume of you.

“Do you…” he swallows. “Do you also think that Hwayoung needs a breather from us? Not the other way around, of course, but you know-…”

“I know what you mean,” you nod your head, the guilt of being a mom to a Hwayoung coming easily these days. “It’ll be good for her to be around other people. To be away from what we have going on.”

You and Jungkook share a guilt that’s only unique to having Hwayoung under your circumstances, and it’s a burden you want to get rid of without ever hurting her in the process.

“We can’t have my parents babysit. They read me easily and I don’t want them to know,” you confide, making your husband hang his head in shame even if it wasn’t your intention.

“My parents can’t either. They went on a cruise.”

“I don’t trust nannies,” you add, making Jungkook nod deliberately.

“Who can we trust then?” he sighs, rubbing his hand all over his face as he tries to scour his brain for people. “Who do we have in our lives that Hwayoung trusts too?”

Your head tilts after a few seconds in realization, and Jungkook’s mind drifts to his daughter’s godfather whether he likes it or not.

You and your husband have the same idea in mind, with one being less fond of it than the other.

“I’ll call Yoongi.”

.

.

.

dun dun DUNNNNNN :O wanna read chapter two + intermission 02, get early access to the finale when it drops, and read hundredssss of exclusive works?? u can head to my patreon :D !!!

also to get ahead of questions: chapter two, intermission 02, and the finale WILL also be up on tumblr!!! it's just that patreon citizens get early access to general fics (aka fics like 478 that are both posted on tumblr and patreon) + exclusive pieces :-)

++ if you're wondering about the posting schedule here on tumblr, i do it with a lag!! as soon as i post the finale on patreon, i'll be posting part two here ☝️🤓

[throwbackgaylor]

june 2, 2024 — lyon, france

this is too meta for me, but it’s long-awaited i suppose! im not sure how to do this honestly, nor do i have the words for what happened. even still, none of it feels real and its all something im not sure i will ever fully process, but we’ll try this together

as most of you know, roughly an hour before my first show started, i tweeted a picture of my location on the floor with the caption, “they don’t know i’m gaylor throwbacks”! what most of you don’t know though is that one lurker on twitter, the biggest gaylor of us all, took that statement and made it her personal mission. standing within feet of the stage as one of the only people in the stadium wearing daisies and being with someone in a KWK cap, i stood out very distinctly, and the very moment she was able to, taylor began searching my section. after spotting my friend and i, taylor then took genuinely every opportunity she could throughout the night to interact with and sing to us. we weren’t able to find everything, but i fear the video several kind friends of mine have put together will have to speak for itself (although i will add commentary for a few things). side note: i’m so beyond thankful for them, the making of this video, and all of the livestreams/recordings in general as i did not have my phone out for most of the concert

after spotting us on the highest platform during the man, my friend held up their kode with klossy hat during fearless to which taylor mouthed, “AW,” before giving us the widest smile and scrunching her nose up at us. and once the song ended, she rushed back over to our side to toss me the lover guitar pick she had been using

enchanted is when the rain truly started and after pointing at us while singing the line, “walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy / vanished when i saw your face,” she excitedly turned back to us to comment on it

cardigan…? i can’t talk about it.

throughout the entirety of champagne problems (and a lot of the night, really), my friend and i held up heart hands (🫶) to taylor as a means of encouragement and way to send our love. most of the times she looked up while playing the song was to look directly at us. after she finished performing, taylor walked over to where we were standing, made eye contact with me, and mouthed, “i love you”

by the 1989 set, my disability had me feeling faint and thankfully, my friend got me to the front to sit against the barricade with security before i lost consciousness. i spent the rest of the show there, alternating between passing out, singing along from the floor, and forcing myself to stand once taylor was near. and that is where the anti-hero serenade took place: standing at the very front of the barricade

after the show, friends of mine also let me know what was being said during the livestream chats: swifties believed that travis must have been at the show due to the overwhelming amount of times she looked at one specific location. that location being mine.

my final, scattered thoughts: let this be a reminder that as much as we see taylor, she sees us as well. be kind, spread love. and taylor, if you’re seeing this, thank you endlessly for the night(s) of my life; i’ll never forget it. as a fan of ~15 years getting to see you for the first time, never in my wildest dreams could i have imagined the experience i would have. love you more than words. thank you for everything, and most importantly, for just being you

[offtorivendell]

Is an oily residue corrupting Azriel's hypothetical mating bond and making him feel off kilter? Is it related to Valg-type magic?

Disclaimer: this theory is a continuation of a few of my others that I've been too lazy to post until now - first I was going to post it for Elriel Month 2023, then Azriel Week 2023... it never happened - but like everyone else I'm having massive FOMO before HOFAS, so here we finally go, even though I know I've forgotten something lol. As usual, this makes no claims of being accurate, it's just theorising for fun.

A massive thank you goes out to @wingedblooms, @tswaney17, @silverlinedeyes, @psychologynerd, @ladynightcourt3, @cassianfanclub, and anyone else I've forgotten (sorry!) for all of our discussions that finally became this post. Love you guys. 💜

Spoilers: this is a Maasverse post, and draws from the ACOTAR series, CC 1 & 2/HOEAB & HOSAB, and the TOG series. It is CC 3/HOFAS spoiler free, as I'm waiting to read it in its "original English" 🤓 on the 30th of January. Please be respectful of that if engaging in the comments before it's published!

Plenty of people, including @silverlinedeyes, @icedflames and myself, have posted our thoughts on mating bonds in the Maasverse, and this theory builds on those previously established - though again, as yet hypothetical - ideas. Specifically, this post about the use of “oily” throughout the ACOTAR series is recommended reading.

What we do know is that:

Mating bonds contain threads, and so do spells.

Mates are the song/music of the soul, and their laughter is likened to music.

Different fae, and magics, contain different scents, be that personal or regional

First, let's go back to ACOWAR, when Feyre described the Ravens' entrance into the library as being like an off-kilter chord:

I felt it at the same moment she did. The ripple and tremor. Like … like some piece of the world shifted, like some off-kilter chord had been plucked. We turned toward the illuminated path that we’d just taken through the stacks, then to the dark far, far beyond. - ACOWAR, chapter 30

Initially, I had wondered if the King of Hybern had had Jurian use the Harp to infiltrate Velaris, but it was @merymoonbeam (I think) who theorised that the Cauldron might be mimicking the Harp, and maybe not doing the best job of it. Which made me wonder, could it do the same with mate bonds?

He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. - ACOSF, Azriel's bonus chapter

Looking at her now … She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features. But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate. - ACOWAR, chapter 24

What if the Elucien bond, as either a spell or piss poor Cauldron-Made approximation of a bond, causes Azriel - and maybe Elain, possibly Lucien - nausea when Lucien is around because it's constantly changing, or reverberating over the top of, what remains of a hypothetical Elriel bond?

What if it's making the Elriel bond off-kilter, out of whack, imbalanced?

Does this make Azriel feel sick, nauseous, or simply overwhelmed/overstimulated?

When people are feeling off-balance, for whatever reason, they can feel sick or nauseous. It's one of the symptoms of vertigo, which can be triggered by severe headaches such as migraines. And guess who rubs their temples? Azriel!

Alternatively, certain chords played loudly enough on a string instrument can really mess with your chest - and where do mating bonds attach - if you're standing close enough for them to vibrate through you (at least, they do for me haha). It can be weirdly disconcerting, and I'd imagine that if Azriel or Elain feels something like this, no wonder he describes such severe discomfort that he needs to leave, and she shrinks away from Lucien, the unintentional cause of her pain.

Same with the smell; if the magic of the Cauldron, in whatever way, is messing with the smell that should be there? Contaminating it? Unbearable.

Is this too crack for you? Well, let's get even crazier.

I have previously suggested that the Cauldron's actions throughout the series could be tracked, in part, by SJM describing a feeling or quality as “oily,” and I've also wondered if the dark maker of the Cauldron - Koschei? - could have hijacked it in some way, as the Book of Breathings being made from leftover iron gave me “One Ring” vibes. I still stand by that, but with a clarification (and here is where the TOG and CC spoilers come in, FYI). I think it's only half of the magic belonging to the Cauldron that is "oily":

Throughout TOG, the Valg are heavily associated with “oiliness,” in terms of their blood and magic. The smell “reeks” and always results in the involved characters experiencing extreme revulsion, including headaches. Sound familiar?

Wyrdstone has an oily, hideous aftertaste.

Even in CC 1/HOEAB, Danika was described as oily when she came into Griffin Antiques.

Celaena looked at the sealed door, her stomach turning. A half-dried pool of blood lay at the base of the door, so dark it looked like oil. She crouched, swiping a finger through the puddle. She sniffed at it, almost gagged at the reek, and then rubbed her finger against the pad of her thumb. It felt as oily as it looked. - COM, chapter 45

“What the hell is that?” Rowan demanded, kneeling beside her, sniffing her outstretched hand. He jerked back, snarling. “That’s not dirt.” No, it wasn’t. It was blacker than night, and reeked just as badly as it had the first time she’d smelled it, in the catacombs beneath the library, an obsidian, oily pool of blood. Slightly different from that other, horrific smell that loitered around this place, but similar. So similar to— “This isn’t possible,” she said, jolting to her feet. “This—this—this—” She paced, if only to keep from shaking. “I’m wrong. I have to be wrong.” There had been so many cells in that forgotten dungeon beneath the library, beneath the king’s Wyrdstone clock tower. The creature she’d encountered there had possessed a human heart. It had been left, she’d suspected, because of some defect. What if … what if the perfected ones had been moved elsewhere? What if they were now … ready? - HOF, chapter 45

The overseer roared, thrashing as her magic swept into him, melded with him. But there was nothing inside to grab on to. No darkness to burn out, no remaining ember to breathe life into. Only— Aelin reeled back, magic vanishing and knees buckling as if struck. Her head gave a throb, and nausea roiled in her gut. She knew that feeling—that taste. Iron. As if the man’s core was made of it. And that oily, hideous aftertaste … Wyrdstone. The demon inside the overseer let out a choked laugh. “What are collars and rings compared to a solid heart? A heart of iron and Wyrdstone, to replace the coward’s heart beating within.” - EOS, chapter 15

* Side note, it's giving Tamlin and his stone heart.

Danika didn’t just look like she’d been rootling through the garbage. She smelled like it, too. Wisps of her silvery blond hair—normally a straight, silken sheet—curled from her tight, long braid, the streaks of amethyst, sapphire, and rose splattered with some dark, oily substance that reeked of metal and ammonia. - CC HOEAB, chapter 1

The Hind held Ruhn’s gaze as the game began. She was the spitting image of Luna, with her upswept chignon, the regal angle of her neck and jaw. As coldly serene as the moon. All she needed was a pack of hunting hounds at her side— And she had them, in her dreadwolves. How had someone so young risen in the ranks so swiftly, gained such notoriety and power? No wonder she left a trail of blood behind her. “Careful now,” the Harpy said with that oily smile. “The Hammer doesn’t share.” The Hind’s lips curved upward. “No, he doesn’t.” - CC HOSAB, chapter 33

I think the dark maker of the Cauldron could have been Valg, whether that's Koschei or someone else I don't know though Koschei currently makes the most sense. I also don't know when the dark maker would have had the chance to influence the Cauldron; was it always made from dark and light, or - as @fawnandshadows theorised a while back - did Koschei bastardise it after the fact? Where the Valg would fit in with the Daglan and the Asteri is also a mystery, though my current train of thought is that they could be family names or allegiances, like different clans of the same parasitical species, thanks to the description of Danika in HOEAB.

But, back to Azriel and his severe reaction to the Elucien bond.

I know I'm not the only one who wonders at the very Valg-ish themes with which Rhys and Azriel's powers have been described - maybe one day I'll post my thoughts about the possible link between lightsingers, shadowsingers, daemati and the Valg (but it is not this day lol) - and how that may have come about. For example, are the Valg interwoven, genetically, with the Avallen people, or is it because the Princes of Hel are also involved, and have similar magics? Are the Princes of Hel a similar species as the Valg, Asteri and Daglan, or completely different? Ugh, let's stop this spiral here.

Oily: the obvious train of thought being that oily things are slippery, which can lead to an imbalance… ie. becoming off-kilter.

Sounds like Azriel could be suffering from some sort of vertigo, of which symptoms can include nausea; severe headaches, such as migraines, may trigger an episode… and who rubs his temples enough that Elain noticed it?

Maybe Azriel can sense the corruption in the bond, either the current Elucien bond, or the hypothetical original bond between Elain and himself; if like calls to like, and his shadows are Valg-ish, maybe it is because his OG bond was fucked with. So, what if:

Azriel's shadows can slip away from spells and binding magic (Slippery > oily > Valg).

The guards at the prison know what he is.

Valg magic making Azriel nauseous and Elain sourcing/making a healer's powder for him? It's giving Chaol and Yrene. Especially since Elain (and Mor) make his shadows brighten.

So, we have in-text mentions of Azriel feeling overwhelmed due to the proximity of the Elucien bond, as well as Elain shrinking from Lucien - an action that parallels Azriel hanging out in the doorway, and even Lucien retreating to the human lands, if he feels any bond-related discomfort around Elain. But what about his initial response to seeing Elain, and thinking she was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen? The quote that sent me down the “oily” rabbit hole to begin with?

Looking at her now … She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features. But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate. - ACOWAR, chapter 24

Well, Aelin felt oily disgust at the thought of marrying someone who wasn't Rowan:

“There are no allies,” Darrow said. “Unless Her Highness decides to be useful and gain us men and arms through marriage”—a sharp glance at Rowan—“we are alone.” Aelin debated revealing what she knew, the money she’d schemed and killed to attain, but— Something cold and oily clanged through her. Marriage to a foreign king or prince or emperor. Would this be the cost? Not just in blood shed, but in dreams yielded? To be a princess eternal, but never a queen? To fight with not just magic, but the other power in her blood: royalty. She could not look at Rowan, could not face those pine-green eyes without being sick. - EOS, chapter 5

This example from Aelin could describe Azriel and Elain’s potential future if Elain accepted a theoretically Cauldron spelled bond to Lucien, but also for Lucien and Jesminda, if they were originally true or fated mates before she was murdered.

Some final thoughts:

We know from TOG that healing light is known as the Valg executioner. In a parallel to Yrene killing Erawan with her healing light in KOA, Elain killed the King of Hybern - who I suspect was possessed or assisted by a Valg, as Feyre described his magic as a “galaxy” in his palms - with Truth-Teller, which had recently devoured the (her?) sunlight; does this mean that Elain could heal or purify Valg possessed things, with or without the magical, Made dagger? Could this be extrapolated to Azriel's magic, the Dread Trove, or even the Cauldron (possibly with Feyre and Nesta for the bigger ticket items)?

If the Asteri are the same species as the Valg, and the Valg somehow had a hand in making or twisting the Cauldron, it could follow that they used the Cauldron to create offspring bonds for a more powerful food source. If this pans out then Elain, bright light, could hypothetically heal the Cauldron. Maybe that is why Azriel describes her with purity language? Not because SJM wants to display Azriel's apparently toxic thoughts about her (🙄), but because she, along with her sisters, will be his/their salvation? Rhys once said as much to Feyre!

@mrspettyferr has suggested that Azriel's shadows ability to hide him from binding magic - see: the High Lord's meeting in ACOWAR - could have prevented his true bond from snapping with Elain when she came out of the Cauldron. This could be supported by any Valg/shadow link.

Thank you for reading! Please don't mention any CC HOFAS spoilers in the comments or reblogs until after it has been officially published. 💜

[drconstellation]

Aziraphale-Beelzebub Parallels

Aziraphale's Edinburgh Journey: Part 2

I've already written a series on how Crowley and Gabriel act as parallels and foils to each other in S2. Their other halves - their partners - also act as each other's parallels. I mentioned this briefly in the second post in that series, but here we need to expand on this.

We also need to talk about Maggie.

I think most people identify that there is good case for a many parallels between Aziraphale and Maggie as well. But when you consider Aziraphale-Beelzebub-Maggie together in a character triangle, Maggie suddenly starts to make a lot more sense. And I believe there is one more peculiar element thrown in that she is reflecting back to us as well about Aziraphale that has made her particularly hard to understand on top of all that.

But let's look at the Aziraphale-Beelzebub related parallels first.

They hold the highest ranking position

Beezlebub holds the highest ranking position in Hell under Satan, as the Grand Duke. They leave a vacancy at the end of the series, that we are yet to see filled.

For most of S2 the Supreme Archangel is missing - and it is only right at the end that we see Aziraphale step up and accept the offered role.

Two things to mention here:

One might argue that the Metatron is higher in ranking than the Supreme Archangel, but for purposes of this discussion he doesn't seem to have much to do with the day-to-day running of things like the Supreme Archangel would. Gabriel was also the one who appeared on the tarmac at Tadfield Airbase opposite Beelzebub when things weren't going to plan in S1.

Secondly, this is where I would like to start introducing the concept that we are being shown Aziraphale's future story in S2. Such as Aziraphale's future role as Supreme Archangel, however long he holds on to it.

I don't know how difficult it will be to demonstrate this as we go along from here, but I'm going to try and point out places where I think we are being shown glimpses of the future - foreshadowing - and a lot of them come through Maggie. Not all, though, there are exceptions, but we'll discuss them in due course. Such as in the next parallel.

They need words of affirmation

Crowley isn't the most loquacious character but he's not shy of boosting his angel's ego when it's needed. Whether it's encouraging Aziraphale to go big on stage in 1941 or supporting his detective efforts in Edinburgh Crowley is still going to put in a good word or two for Aziraphale's sake.

AZIRAPHALE: [over phone]: I think I've found some clues. And do you remember the statue of Gabriel in the graveyard in Edinburgh? I'm looking at it now. CROWLEY: Mmm, good job. AZIRAPHALE: Oh, do you really think so?

We know Beelzebub needs words of affirmation as well because they ask Demon Josh this:

BEELZEBUB: Do you ever think, wouldn't it just be nice if someone told you what a good job you're doing? DEMON JOSH: In hell? BEELZEBUB: Yeah.

Hang on, just a minute...Demon Josh...?

The demon who appears to be acting as the Personal Assistant/Secretary to the Grand Duke of Hell?

There is an old thread that points out that Greasy Johnson's name is basically another form of Jesus Christ. The TL:DR version is that Joshua aka Oily Josh is another form of Jesus.

So Beelzebub has Demon Jesus as her assistant.

Remember I was trying to tell you we are seeing future echoes of Aziraphale's story in S3 here? Jesus as the right hand of the Supreme Archangel, perhaps?

They give gifts

A S1 crossover, Beelzebub gives Gabriel the Tardis-like fly storage container, and Aziraphale gives Crowley the thermos of holy water in 1967 to stop the crazy caper he was planning to steal some. Both acts were done unprompted at the time.

They enjoy music

We've seen Aziraphale with his phonograph in action several times, and in S2E1 we see him in the midst of listening to the Shostakovitch records he got from Maggie when the arrival of Gabriel interrupts him.

We learn Beelzebub also has an ear for a good tune when they mention they like the song they hear in the American bar during the recap scenes of their meetings with Gabriel in S2E6.

They make an offer of "betterment" to Crowley

Beelzebub's offer to Crowley that he could be a Duke of Hell if he finds Gabriel for them, all while he is lounging across the two horned thrones in S2E1, is widely seen as a prominent piece of foreshadowing for S3.

Really, the only question should be is will that be just a plain Duke or will he somehow end up in the Grand Duke of Hell position opposite of Aziraphale?

Aziraphale also made an offer to Crowley - to restore him to angelic status.

At the time, neither offer was accepted with any enthusiasm - especially the latter.

They have a date at Gabriel's statue

I have pointed out elsewhere that this is a triple-parallel with a shot from Before the Beginning, but then I remembered that the parallel with Aziraphale looking jealously at angel!Crowley was written after this date pair with Gabriel's statue.

I intend to talk about the significance of the statue in Part 4: Judgement Day, as it makes a bridge between all three seasons and it needs some thorough and lengthy discussion around it.

They go to the pub

This is another triple-parallel between the two pairs. (I think @kayleefansposts first brought this up but I can't find the post it comes from now, even though it wasn't that long ago.)

First, they both meet in a cafe:

Then they meet in a pub:

And lastly, they meet - well, lets say with alcohol on the table and an option of food?

Their partners make a reference to the absurd creativity of humanity

For some time I wondered why when Crowley came back from the pub with Aziraphale, he plucked the Jane Austen off the shelf and shouted that inane line at humanity: "You people, I will never get the hang of you lot."

Eventually I realized it was a parallel moment to when just before Gabriel miracles the jukebox in the Resurrectionist to play Every Day the first time.

GABRIEL: What's that? BARTENDER: A classic 1960s jukebox. You don't see many of them these days. You just put your money in and tell it what you want to hear. GABRIEL: Oh… You people. Amazing. [hands over money] [miracles] Ha!

Both incidences are inspired by their partners - Aziraphale inspires Crowley to look for Austen's novels and Gabriel miracles the jukebox to play the music that Beelzebub likes.

Their partners accidentally leave them on their own

Crowley was only going to take the human shopkeepers to safety, then return - but he got sidetracked with Muriel all the way up to Heaven. Thinking he would be back soon, Aziraphale didn't plan very far ahead, and that eventually led to a problem - and a long, anxious wait for the demon's return.

On his way out of Heaven, Gabriel was on his way to Hell and Beelzebub - we presume. But as soon as he put himself in the fly, he forgot, and headed to the next most memorable location in his remaining working neurons, which happened to be on Earth. Beelzebub was left wondering where he was - and very alone down there in Hell while their minions were out searching for him. @noneorother shows what happens to the thrones while they wait.

So, about Maggie, then...

Understanding Aziraphale and Beelzebub as a parallel pair helps us to understand Maggie a little better, as Maggie is actually a mix of the two characters, reflecting both of them back at the same time. I think that is why she sometimes seems like an angel and a demon at the same time - because she actually is!

I believe this would also explain the "ugrency" spelling mistake, as well as putting an emphasis on the word urgency itself for us. What is becoming urgent?

For example, Maggie always wears a combination of colours from both characters. Here we can Maggie is wearing Beelzebub's signature colours of orange and light blue, but with a white background as the angelic component.

At the ball, she wears a blue blouse - blue is a colour associated with Heaven - but its a dark, demonic shade of blue.

She tries to give a gift to Nina, that doesn't quite work, but the thought and effort is there. She's very forgiving. And she says she says she'll still be there when Nina is ready to start seeing her again; she's reflecting the future Aziraphale to us.

She doesn't want to leave the scene of danger with Crowley when its offered (sounds familiar, doesn't it? Let's go to Alpha Centauri - No! I Can't!)

She's done with being scared, she's ready to stand up and be brave and fight.

She doesn't want to leave Aziraphale on his own (even though Aziraphale still has faith Crowley will turn up any minute now and have a plan - !!) She comes up with ideas on how to fight back. This is someone who steps forward and takes control. These all look like future echoes and set-ups for parallels in S3 to me.

There's another line that no one ever talks about that I've always thought was a foreshadowing line that Crowley says to Nina:

NINA: He's never hosted a meeting, ever. Why the change of heart? CROWLEY: He's unpredictable. He's discovered his civic obligations.

The parallel to this comes from Maggie, when Crowley goes to tell her its time for the meeting/Ball, she says she never misses a meeting. If that's not part of fulfilling your "civic obligations" I don't know what is.

If there was one aspect of Beelzebub I would perhaps just mention here briefly, but not discussing at length because I want to do it elsewhere again as well, is that they twice show restraint of their power and authority - they don't pull Crowley in for punishment as a traitor, even though they could (they pulled him down to Hell for a chat pretty easily) and they don't bother to rip out Demon Josh's tongue and send him to the dung heaps that day for being talkative and annoying, even though we get the impression it happens on a regular basis. In contrast, Aziraphale and Maggie both step up a bit and take some authority on themselves towards the end.

The lists above are not exhaustive of all the parallels between the three characters, but I hope it helps to get you started in thinking about them in a different way to how you might have been.

Next we try to tie the past<-present->future parallels together as we start getting our hands dirty.

The other posts in this series can be found here:

Part 1: Detective Aziraphale Part 3: Stocktaking in the Basement Part 4: Judgement Day Part 5: I Know Where I'm Going

[doodoodinklefart]

okAYYYY so ive been planning this au for literally forever and i couldnt get white diamond satoru and black sapphire suguru out of my head... ive seen a couple other hnk x jjk aus floating around but i wanted to take a crack at it!! i'll just explain these three + the setting for now cuz theres a bunch of other shit brewing in my head LOLOL honestly hnk and jjk are pretty different themes-wise i feel so i couldnt rlly help changing a lot abt the world LMAO

in this au its not just a couple gems in the school, there's a bit more of a society and structure outside of it. there are still the three major "clans" though maybe more like major cliffs?? lol?? that the gems are formed in that produce a much higher frequency of strong, high quality gems. i imagine that before the idea of working together (modern jujutsu society) had come about, gems fought to have control of these spots to assure that they would have those to protect them from lunarians (aka curses we're playing a bit fast and loose here). while there were many attempts to merge the clans, the fighting was more a waste of time if anything, so they stayed separate. jujutsu high in this au would probably just be the school, a set of gems that are trained to always be ready to dispatch lunarians and protect tengen (who is the prayer machine here), who has basically been dormant.

and THATS where we get to white diamond. i wanna say while diamonds are p common irl, its rare here for there to be a fully formed diamond lustrous that actually has inclusions. while there have been extremely strong lustrous born from the gojo cliff, white diamond is the first diamond in several centuries, filling a vacancy after others had been taken away to the moon. not only that, he's got special eyes too!! im thinking he can see sunspots from far away, or maybe can tell artificial gems from real ones, like being able to see their inclusions or something. probably both!! either way he has to wear special blackout glasses during the day. his eyes are really reflective so he can work at night too, but that often leaves him restless.

white diamond—in his mind at least—is untouchable, and really it may as well be true. due to the combat training that he's gone through and his hardness of 10, he has never sustained so much as a scratch. he had a tendency to break all of his sparring partners back home, and thus he feels he's hit a brick wall with his training, and that the only things that will come close to putting up a challenge are likely lunarians. he doesn't really care much for weaker gems at this point, and is eager to finally fight lunarians for once. eventually, he is sent off to the school to begin what he would call "actually worthwhile" training.

black sapphire, on the other hand, was born practically from nowhere, in a unremarkable place with little more than himself and a few other older gems that were around to help shape him. with a hardness of 9, he was the strongest among them and—after his first dangerous encounter with lunarians—he realized he had an obligation to protect the rest of them. his strength often leaves him feelings alienated, as he normally ends up working alone for fear of other being taken away. i wanna figure out how to incorporate his ct better but for now ill just keep thinking about it. for now, it was probably his strength that got his scouted and sent to the school.

boulder opal, or just opal, is in training as a doctor at the school, and shows extreme promise. her lax attitude reveals none of her medical prowess, especially when it comes to gems with missing pieces. she has a particularly good eye for finding missing shards, or finding pieces that she can replace missing shards with. there's nothing she can do if their inclusions reject the replacement, however. maybe she has a way of resonating with the other's inclusions to speed healing up on bigger points of damage?? idk ill figure it out

ANYWAYYY this is getting super long so i'll end this shortly BUT!!! basically, white diamond, with black sapphire (who he calls saph), and opal are all training under yaga sensei (idk what kind of gem he would be yet LOL). diamond, at first, sees opal and saph as weak, but quickly realizes they have their own feats. saph in particular is the first lustrous that has ever made sparring fun, because while he's less durable his combat skills make up for it tenfold. maybe black sapphire is the first to ever leave a break on white diamond who knows... opal is probably always having to put the two back together. theyve never lost to a lunarian before, and have certainly never come close to being taken to the moon. these two are the strongest together, and each finally feel like they have a place to belong.

alsooo..... they do get a mission to escort a "star plasma vessel" of sorts. tengen slowly erodes over the years and needs a compatible lustrous to replace their missing pieces. boleite (riko) happens to be that gem, and diamond and saph need to escort her.... lmaoaoao now i have to design riko, toji and kuroi...

[allthecanadianpolitics]

In Quebec, 1,460 tenant households that are looking for accommodation and are at risk of being without a lease on July 1 are being supported by a rehousing assistance service. Of these, 224 are in Montreal. The vacancy rate in several of the province's cities is also at an all-time low, adding to the strain. The Old Brewery Mission in Montreal says demand for its homelessness prevention services is exploding. "It's getting more intense as we get closer to July 1. A lot of people have known for months that it was going to be a problem [finding accommodation], but they're now pushing the panic button," said James Hughes, the mission's CEO.

Continue Reading

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[vodika-vibes]

Hi, Vod'ika. I recently read your works and I loved them all, especially Hunter's. Can you write something with him with the trope "there's only one bed"? If I may give you a kick-start, maybe he and reader (F! Reader, please.) They are left without a pick up because the Marauder is not in a condition to face the storm on the planet they are on. So they need a place to spend the night. Xx

Sharing is Caring

Summary: When a terrible storm separates you and Hunter from the rest of the Batch, you have no choice but to try and make the best of it. Unfortunately, the only inn with a vacancy only has one room available. Luckily, you don’t mind sharing with your Sergeant.

Pairing: TBB Hunter x F!Reader

Word Count: 2660

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @clonethirstingisreal

A/N: Hihi! I'm glad that you liked my stories! Especially my Hunter stories, since I'm still not 100% about my characterization of him! But I made a new divider specifically for this story! ☺️

You’re drenched.

Soaked to the bone.

Your hair is plastered to your head, and the civvies that you’re wearing are clinging, uncomfortably, to your body, and you know that you’re shivering because Hunter keeps shooting you concerned looks, even as he tries to raise the Marauder on his comm.

How, exactly, he’s not shivering when he’s just as drenched as you are, is a mystery for the ages.

Maybe the Kaminoans made it so the clones just don’t get cold. The lucky assholes.

You wrap your arms around yourself as a particularly violent shiver zips through you. “H-Hunter-” Your teeth are chattering too. He raises a single finger as he lifts his comm to his ear, apparently finally managing to get ahold of Tech.

Honestly, you’re surprised it’s this cold.

This is a tropical planet according to the very detailed lecture that Tech bored you to tears with before the ship landed. The planet never, ever gets cold enough for people to need things like heaters…or long pants.

So, since this was supposed to be an undercover mission, you dressed according to what Tech told you, a cute sundress and sandals. Hell, even Hunter is dressed in short sleeves, though he, at least, has long pants and boots to protect his feet from the frigid rain.

You’re not so lucky.

You step up a little higher, trying to keep your feet out of the frigid puddles of water, and then anxiously cast your gaze over to Hunter. He has a severe look on his face, and your heart sinks.

You know that look.

That’s Hunters, ‘the marauder can’t come and get us for some reason, so we’re on our own’ look.

You see it a lot.

“It’s fine, Tech. We’ll make it work.” You tune into Hunter’s conversation now that he’s talking and not just listening, “Just get the ship somewhere safe.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then he disconnects the call, and slides the comm into his pocket, before he turns his gaze towards you. His dark eyes scan you, and he looks deeply concerned.

“We’re stuck here, aren’t we?” You ask.

“Just for a couple of days,” Hunter replies, “Tech says that the storm is going to get a lot worse really quickly.”

“Figures.” You say with a sigh.

Hunter scans you one more time, “We need to get you out of the cold. You look like you’re freezing.”

“I am freezing,” You counter, “Do you have a personal heater in your body or something?” 

Hunter laughs softly, “Not quite.” He steps into the massive puddle so that he’s closer to you, “Hands on my shoulders, mesh’la.”

You immediately do as he asks, and Hunter gently grips your hips before he swiftly lifts you over the puddle and sets you on the other side, “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hunter glances around, “Tech said that there’s an inn nearby that has a vacancy. He already commed them and made a reservation for us.”

“Tech’s the best,” You say empathically.

Hunter grins at you, “He has his moments. Come on, let’s get out of this rain.” He doesn’t move until you fall into step next to him, and he presses his hand against the small of your back to guide you.

You don’t mind. He’s warm and you’re freezing, and, to be completely honest, you don’t have any qualms about having such a handsome man pressed close to your side.

Two years ago, when the war first began, the organization that you are a part of reached out to the Jedi and offered the services of their doctors and battlefield medics.

And while the Jedi, and the Clones, weren’t sure about it, at first, it quickly became apparent that they needed the help. After all, Clone medics were very good, but they didn’t have the kind of specialized training that people from Doctors Without Borders had. 

Or the equipment, for that matter.

Two years ago, you were a recent graduate from medical school, and had just finished a 6 month tour on a planet ravaged by a plague. And you went right from there, to Kamino.

Admittedly, there was something of a rough start at first. The Kaminoans resented the fact that there was an outside doctor treating them pet projects, and you resented the fact that the Kaminoans called these men their Pet Project.

But you never had a problem with the men in CF99 themselves. Well, not outside of you putting your foot down and telling them that they will keep their room clean and clean smelling or you would do it for them.

And really, you haven’t had a single issue since then.

Well, okay. That’s not true.

There is one, rather massive, issue. And that issue is your massive crush on Hunter.

Something that he doesn’t help with by being so protective and so kind and so…perfect.

The asshole.

“Here it is,” Hunter’s voice interrupts your thoughts as he comes to a stop in front of a small inn. It looks very lived in, which, in your experience, means that it probably started out as a bed and breakfast. He glances at you, and gently nudges you towards the door, “Come on.”

Hunter opens the door for you, and you, gratefully, step into the warmth of the building. You step to the side to let Hunter in, and then try to shake some of the dripping water off your fingers.

“Ah, got caught in the storm, did you?” An older woman says from behind the desk, she has a kind smile on her face, “You must be Hunter. Your brother called to make a reservation.”

Hunter shook some of the water off of his hands as well, before he walked over to the desk, “Yes ma’am, that’s me.”

“Splendid,” The older woman bustles around for a moment, before she slides a pair of key cards across the counter, “Here you go, two keys for the room. There’s a kitchenette in the room, as well as extra blankets and towels.”

“Thank you,” You say from where you moved to stand next to Hunter and accept the key that he gave you.

The woman smiles at you, “Now, the pair of you are staying in another building. You have to go out the front door, across the street and up the hill. Your room is in building 13, on the third floor.” She beams at you, “Now, you two better hurry before the hail starts.”

Hunter’s head snaps up, “Hail?”

“Oh, yes. There’s always hail.” 

Hunter’s gaze darts to you again, the look of concern returning, and you smile at him reassuringly, “Come on, Hunter. We’d better hurry then.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” He nods at the older woman and then motions for you to lead the way back to the door.

It takes less than ten minutes to get from the hotel lobby to the hotel room, and Hunter unlocks and opens the door just in time, as it starts to hail as soon as you’re both safely in the room.

“Lucky timing,” You say as you peer out the front door at the hail bouncing on the ground. 

Behind you, Hunter releases a heavy sigh. “I’m going to strangle Tech,” you hear him mumble.

“Eh? Why? What’s wrong?” You shut the door and peek around Hunter to peer into the room properly.

At first, you don’t see the problem. The room looks clean and it doesn’t have any strong scents that might overwhelm Hunter. And then you see what the problem is.

Really, it’s kind of obvious, now that you’re looking at it.

There’s only one bed.

A decent sized bed, much bigger than the bunks you have to use on the Marauder, but still, there’s only one.

“Oh.” You pause thoughtfully, “Well, easy solution. I can sleep on the floor and-”

“Absolutely not.” Hunter interrupts. “I am not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

You sigh, “Hunter, you can’t sleep on the floor.”

“I’ve slept in more uncomfortable places.” He points out, “You’re the doctor, you deserve the bed.”

“That’s ridiculous. You need-” You’re cut off when a violent shiver wracks your body, and all of the fight drains out of Hunter.

“You need to take a shower to warm up.” He says, “What clothes do you have with you?”

“Just some pajamas and a single change of clothes,” You admit, “We weren’t supposed to be here long. They should still be dry though.”

“Good. Go ahead and shower, and we can work out sleeping arrangements later.”

You make a face at him, but know that he’s right. So you slide off your soaked sandals, and then cross the room to slide into the fresher. You’re very relieved to see that there’s bodywash, shampoo, and conditioner already in the fresher.

Not to mention, the room is warm. 

You allow the fresher door to slide shut, and turn on the water. 

Hunter glances at the fresher door as the water turns on, and he slowly releases a heavy breath. He really is going to strangle Tech.

As if he didn’t have enough on his plate, now he had to try and come up with a reasonable explanation for why he can’t share a bed with his pretty baar’ur.

Obviously the truth won’t work.

I’m completely in love with you and I don’t trust myself to share a bed with you. 

Yeah. The only thing that will accomplish is scaring her away, and then his brothers will kill him. Including Echo, especially Echo. She’s helping him with his physical therapy after all.

He pulls his bandana off, and pushes his hand through his soaked hair as he tries to think.

Hunter’s gaze is drawn to the Fresher when he hears soft singing, and a small smile lifts his lips. She only sings when she’s happy, and sometimes it feels like her singing is for his ears only, since she never sings where his brothers can hear her.

He sinks into a chair and closes his eyes, allowing her soft voice to soothe him. 

He really did love her more than anything.

Hunter opens his eyes as the water turns off, and he casts his gaze towards the ceiling. He still hasn’t come up with a reason that they shouldn’t share.

The problem being, of course, the fact that he wants to share the bed with her. He wants to be able to bury his face in her hair and wrap his arms tightly around her, and hold her close. He also wants to press a million little kisses across her skin, to learn if she’s as soft as she looks–

The door slides open, and Hunter’s gaze drifts from the ceiling to the love of his life.

She’s clad in a tank top and some shorts, and Hunter has the feeling that she made them herself, because the shorts have the skull of CF99 etched on the hem.

“I feel so much better now,” She says, as she drapes the towel over her head, and then she grins at him, “You can use the shower now, if you want.”

“Yeah, I will.” His gaze lingers on her shorts, “Those are new.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” She lightly taps the embroidered skull, “You like them? I was bored while you guys were on a mission, and I made this.”

“Why haven’t you worn them before now?” Hunter asks.

“And let Crosshair harass me about my spindly chicken legs?” She demands, “No thank you.”

Hunter laughs, “He only teases you because he likes you.”

“I know, I know.” She crosses the room and drops on the edge of the bed, “Still, he could be nicer about it. What if I was sensitive about my legs?”

“Are you?”

“No.”

Hunter grins, “Then it doesn’t matter, does it?”

She makes a face, though she looks amused, so Hunter isn’t overly worried, “I had an idea,”

“Oh?”

“I think we should share the bed.” She says.

Kriff.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Hunter replies slowly.

Something very similar to anxiety crosses her face, a look he hasn’t seen since the early days of her partnership with his squad, “I don’t take up that much space-”

“I don’t want to share a bed.”

The anxiety on her face slides into genuine hurt, and she averts her gaze, “Oh.”

Double kriff.

“Not for the reason you’re probably thinking, mesh’la,” Hunter offers, his voice gentle.

She rubs her arm, and doesn’t look at him, “If you really don’t want to share, then I have to insist that you take the bed. If something happens-”

“I don’t want to share with you because I don’t want to scare you away.”

“...what?” She lifts her head to look at him, the hurt turning into absolutely bafflement.

Hunter sighs, “You have no idea the effect you have on me, do you?”

Her confusion only increases.

“You’re so good, and kind. And…stars, I love you so much.” He folds his arms over his chest, to keep himself from doing something foolish, like standing up and touching her. “Too much, maybe. My brothers would never forgive me if I scared you away.”

She stares at him, “Hunter,” She pauses for a moment, to collect her thoughts, “For someone who is so observant, you sure are blind sometimes.”

“What?”

She looks exasperated, “Even Tech noticed my crush on you. Tech. Do you have any idea how awful that conversation was?”

Hunter’s jaw drops, “Wait! Is that why Tech has been asking me about what I would want in a romantic partner?”

“Oh Force,” She presses her hand over her eyes, her face burning with embarrassment, “Has he?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry. I swore him to secrecy…figures that he would try and find a loophole.” And then she drops her hand, “But, since you know that I feel the same way, maybe you won’t mind sharing a bed with me now?” She sounds hopeful and so vulnerable at the same time.

And really, how could Hunter do anything other than agree?

With the conversation over, and needing time to think about what she said, Hunter retreats to the fresher to get warm.

And when he finishes in the shower and leaves the fresher, he sees her laying on her side under the blanket, her gaze locked on the holo across the room. “It looks like the storm is going to last several days,” She says without turning her gaze away from the holo, and Hunter’s glad for it.

The last thing he wants is for her to see how anxious he is about sharing a bed with her.

Slowly, carefully, he slides under the blanket, “What kind of weather can we expect?” Hunter asks, pleased that he managed to keep his voice so even, as he leans against his pillows and flickers his gaze from her, over to the holo, and then back.

“Wind, rain, hail,” She shakes her head, “I hope Tech managed to get the ship to safety. The wind gusts they’re predicting are insane.”

“I’m sure he did. You know Tech,” 

She glances at Hunter, and shifts just enough to rest her head on his shoulder, “Is this okay?”

He exhales slowly, and wraps an arm around her shoulders. “It’s more than okay.”

“That’s good.” She replies, and then she’s quiet for a moment, “Hey, Hunter?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

He releases a surprised breath, and then a soft laugh slips from him, “Cyare, you don’t have to ask.”

“You just weren't sure about this, so-” She’s cut off when Hunter leans in and presses his lips against hers in a very chaste kiss, his hand coming up to cup the side of her face.

“Cyare,” Hunter murmurs, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

She smiles at him brightly, and he decides right then and there that he would do anything to keep that smile on her face.

[guardian-of-fandoms]

Several years ago, in another Reality:

-

Cody felt numb.

He stared down at the Cuffs around his wrists, occasionally feeling the odd bump in the road, or the soft clink and scrape of the cuffs rubbing against the metal of his right arm.

He'd been in the back of the old cruiser plenty of times, but this...

This was new.

The cruiser stopped at a corner, and Cody suddenly heard a soft sigh from the drivers seat.

His gaze drifted up, meeting Barney's eyes in the mirror.

"What happened to you, kid?"

Cody only looked downward, his eyes narrowed.

"Everyone keeps asking me that... I'll let you know if i find out."

"Everyone used to think you were gonna be the president, or save the world, something like that.... Now, you're in my cells every other week."

"I've heard this from everyone else on the island, too many times to count. Not in the mood."

Barney was quiet a moment, before shaking his head.

"Kid... One of these days, you're gonna get killed."

"Then I guess you won't have to worry about vacancy in the jail."

Barney didn't respond, only shaking his head.

The cruiser pulled into the firehouse driveway, and he screeched to a stop, opening his door.

"Whelp, he's all yours."

Cody's door was pulled open, and he stepped out, trying to avoid looking out as Barney unlocked his cuffs, then handed him a bag with his gear.

"Right, try going a week without getting locked up again, will you?"

Cody only waited, staring down at his feet as Barney hopped in, slowly backing out.

There was a beat of silence, before a stilted cough caught his attention.

"We need to talk. NOW."

He took a breath, and slowly looked up, seeing the scathing eyes of Frankie, Doc, Uncle Woodrow, and Heatwave staring back at him.

He groaned, lightly waving his bag.

"I know what you're gonna say-"

"Oh, do you?"

Frankie's eyes were blazing with rage like he'd never seen before.

"Cody."

"Just let me-"

"Cody."

Frankie charged forward, determination in her eyes as she jabbed a finger at his chest, practically snarling.

"This is the THIRD TIME. THIRD TIME YOU'VE BEEN ARRESTED. AND FOR WHAT?!"

"I was doing what i had to!"

"What you had to?!"

From further back, Woodrow sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Cody, you broke his jaw! You could've killed him!!"

"I knew what i was doing!"

"DIDN'T SEEM LIKE IT!"

Doc Green tilted his head, a stern sadness in his eyes.

".... When you stared all this... you said it was only to find Morocco. But he's not enough anymore, is he? Now you feel the need to go after every petty thug you see, anything to feel a purpose, is that right?"

"...."

Cody turned away, and Doc sighed, shaking his head. Silently, he glanced up at Heatwave.

The bot had long been the only one capable of getting through to him, but as Heatwave stared at him, he felt.... nerves.

"... Cody.... we're worried."

Cody turned back, some of the venom in his eyes draining as he took in Heatwave's appearance.

Heatwave's uneven stance forced him to lean against the wall of the firehouse, taking pressure off his right leg.

Cody's heart ached at the sight of the Brace on Heatwave's leg, and the old scars long carved into his metal.

But his face reflected a sense of deep unease and worry, like something other than the current situation was nagging at him.

Cody met Heatwave's Optics, feeling a sharp sting from within his heart.

"... I can't stop. I'm sorry."

"Cody. You're going to get yourself killed."

Cody paused, and let out a low, bitter chuckle.

"Everyone keeps saying that... They keep saying that, the same things to me, over and over."

"BECAUSE YOU AREN'T LISTENING!"

Cody suddenly gasped as Frankie shoved him, sending him stumbling back.

Frankie's furious eyes blazed with fury, his breath tight as she stared at him.

"WE CARE ABOUT YOU, YOU IDIOT! I know, you're hurting, you have every right to. But THIS, THIS ISN'T WORKING! You may not care if you wind up dead, BUT WE DO!"

Cody caught his stance, his eyes wide as he took in Frankie's worry, and the dampness bubbling at her eyes.

"Cody. We miss them too. We know it HURTS. But this... this isn't how to honor them. Cody, you're not helping anybody this way."

".... All I ever really wanted was to help people. But i guess some things aren't meant to be."

Cody sighed, turning away, absently rubbing his cybernetic.

".... This is just... something i have to do."

".... Then you have to do it alone."

Cody bolted up in surprise, his eyes wide.

"... What?"

Frankie rubbed her eyes, a deep sigh escaping her.

"I can't do this anymore, Cody. This vigilante thing is just... too much. You're out of control, I don't even know who you are anymore! If this is the path you want to take... then you have to take it alone. I'm done."

Cody felt his heart freeze in his chest.

A slow, shallow gasp escaped him, he felt frozen in place.

".... Frankie...."

"I'm sorry."

Frankie met his eyes, then slowly turned away, walking off.

Cody watched her go, a sharp, stabbing pain suddenly filling his chest.

his flesh hand drifted out, reaching in his direction, but he could only stare, any words or pleas trapped in his throat.

A heavy silence hung in the air, before Doc suddenly coughed, glancing over at Woodrow, who nodded slightly.

"We'll.... give you some space.

"Yeah, uh... Get cleaned up, get some rest."

The two men awkwardly shuffled off after Frankie, and Cody felt a sense of numbing shock spreading through him.

The old buzz of static filled his ears, his breath tightening, before the silence was broken once again.

"Hey."

Heatwave called out, and Cody felt the static disperse, unclenching a fist he didn't realize he'd made.

"Let's... let's call it a night, okay?"

"... Okay..."

Cody sighed, and moved towards the doors, frowning as he watched Heatwave flinch.

"How's the leg?"

"Fine. Just been standing a lot."

"Are you-"

"Kid, i'm fine, really."

Cody let it drop, following him inside.

"Go get cleaned up, okay?"

"Okay."

Cody approached the elevator, when Heatwave suddenly called out.

"Hey."

Cody turned, seeing Heatwave guide himself over to the couch, sighing as he took the pressure off his leg.

"... You know we have to talk about it, right?"

"... I'll talk when you do."

He stepped into the elevator, hearing Heatwave groan behind him as the doors closed.

In the privacy of the elevator, the mask finally slipped.

He rubbed his face, wincing at the bruising from the previous night.

Exhaustion seeped into him, contaminating him from his bones to his cybernetic, the metal scraped and dirtied.

The elevator finally stopped at the living area, but he hesitated.

He avoided coming here, when he could.

The halls of the firehouse seemed dark and empty, a sense of loneliness ringing out amid the shadows.

The isolation he felt here was suffocating, the darkened rooms feeling like an old Tomb, rather than a house.

Still, he forced himself out, trying to avoid eyeing the old photos on the walls, long dusted over mementos left untouched by time.

He practically dragged himself to his own room, roughly shoving open his door.

He haphazardly tossed his bag on the bed, groaning as he flopped down beside it.

He wasn't in here often these days. He tried to avoid the upper levels as much as possible, and mostly stuck with Heatwave down in the Bunker.

He looked around the disheveled room, before his eyes landed on the mirror by the dresser.

A hollow, empty feeling weighed inside him, a numb pressure deep inside his core, and he stood up, almost reluctantly approaching the mirror.

Barney's words seemed to echo in his ears, as he slowly whispered,

"... What happened to you?"

He took in the dark, cavernous bags beneath his eyes, the purpleish bruising marring his chin, the old burns scars enveloping the right half of his face, the golden hair flowing down past his shoulders.

He thought back to Frankie's words, that she didn't know him anymore.

In honestly, that was fair, it wasn't like he really knew himself these days.

What happened to you?

The question had been asked so many times, from the verbal questioning, to the sad, disappointed looks he'd often received around town.

It was almost ironic, he supposed.

The living was more like a ghost, some hollow shell of what was, forever left haunting what he'd once known.

He snapped out of his trance, going back to the bed, and opening up the bag.

He rifled through it's contents, pulling out his gear, until he found it.

The old Comn.

He grasped it tightly, before clicking it open, and pulling out the old photo.

He stared at his younger self, and something inside him burned, seeing the sheer innocence and oblivious nature to his joy, contrasting the mix of confusion, shock, and tiredness in his family.

That burning feeling manifested ever harder, and as he traced the photo with his metal fingers, there was a golden spark in his eyes, before tears started streaming down his face.

Only here, in complete isolation, did that gaping emptiness boil and writhe inside him, like a living entity ravenously snapping and tearing at him.

He collapsed onto the bed, dropping the photo as more sparks appeared around his arm, snapping and lashing out as he let out a heaving cry.

It was all his fault.

As Frankie had walked away, he knew, he'd broken something he could never repair.

As the Talons of despair ripped into his soul, as that crushing agony of loneliness tore into him, he knew.

It was all his fault.

And it always would be.

-

Now, Primary Reality:

-

The Monster swatted at the two Alternates much like one would swat at insignificant flies.

"You always were difficult!"

Frankie ducked low, inches from the mass of wires snatching for her.

"You're one to talk!"

Cody threw one of his metallic blocks and blasted it, the thick cables expanding and ensnaring Morocco's arm, pinning it to his torso.

"This ends now, Morocco!! We won't let you hurt anyone in this reality!"

"You really believe you can stop me? After your Failure in the past?"

Cody glared, but didn't reply, focusing on avoiding a swipe from the free hand.

Frankie glowered at the monster, her tone angry, but even.

"You know what they say, you can't change the past, but the future is open. And we'll NEVER let you dictate our fates!"

"Oh, but haven't I?"

The jagged metal claws of the of captive arm started tearing through the cables, as a slow, glitched laugh emanated from the towering Bot.

"Oh, you pitiful children... Can't you see.... Defeat me here... tear me apart... but since the day we first met, i had won. From the moment i had become embedded in the darkest pits of your memory, my legacy had tainted yours. My legacy will forever live on, through the anguish i have engraved in your souls."

The claws tore through the cables, and he reared up to full height, the claws on both hands extracting to full height.

"The best way to ensure you shall never be forgotten.... is through PAIN!"

Morocco lunged forward, Cody frantically trying to swerve, but he was too slow, as the metal claws scewered through the core of the Hoverboard.

The device instantly faltered, and Cody was thrown backwards in a freefall, until Frankie rushed through the air, grasping his arms tightly, the thrusters on both boots gunning at full force.

"THANKS FOR THE SAVE!"

"CAN'T KEEP THIS UP FOREVER, PLAN?!"

Frankie wobbled through the air, struggling to keep a balance as the Monster started moving towards them.

Cody wracked his mind for an idea, before he felt a weight in his pocket, and one formed.

"LET GO!"

"ARE YOU CRAZY?!"

"JUST TRUST ME! LET! GO!"

Frankie gasped, her face stricken with panic, but released her grip.

As Cody started to fall, he dug a hand into his pocket, and pulled out his Counterpart's Comn Tab, charging it with a blast of his Bio-Electricity as the green wings expanded.

His landing was a precarious one, causing him to bounce and flail wildly, but the board held its own, and he evened out, leaving a green streak behind him as he and Frankie dove deep into the woods, Morocco in close pursuit.

Cody activated the borrowed comn, yelling,

"WELL, WE GOT HIS ATTENTION!"

Charlie's voice echoed across the line, replying,

"We're tracking you two remotely, keep going as you are for now, but be ready to make a hard left."

"GOT IT!"

He glanced back at Frankie, who nodded, confirming that she'd heard the call.

The two tore through the darkened woods, weaving through tight trees and dense bushes, a claustrophobic sense of expansion accompanying the chase.

The borrowed hoverboard didn't quite have the speed or aerodynamics of his own, causing Frankie to take the lead, but it held strong, despite the reduced power.

"YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME!"

Morocco ripped through the darkened scenery, shredding through anything in his path, his broken face clearly locked onto the two alternates fleeing him.

Cody's heart pounded in his chest, his electricity sparking and thrashing wildly around him, but he steeled himself, focusing on the path ahead, just as the Comn crackled to life once again.

"HARD LEFT NOW!!"

The two made the turn, but the borrowed hoverboard lagged behind, the core flickering.

"No no no, c'mon!!"

Cody raised arm, ready to blast the hoverboard with more power, when something rammed into him from behind, sending him flying.

The board spiraled off, as Cody landed in a heap on the ground, gasping from the blow.

"CODY!!"

He glanced up, seeing he'd landed in a clearing, a strange fenced off area a small distance away.

The team were crowded by the entrance to the fenced area, with Frankie floating nearby.

Just as he went to force himself up, Frankie screamed, and he felt a sharp weight slam into him, the sharp claws of Morocco grasping him tightly.

"Now... What did you say earlier? "This ends Now"? I couldn't agree more."

Cody gasped, winded and pained, as the monster's free hand pinched his face, the claws stabbing into his flesh, blood leaking from the grip.

The team watched in sheer horror, too afraid to make a move at the risk of retaliation from Morocco.

Cody's breath was hoarse and ragged, fear filling his face as the fresh trails of blood spread like tears.

"Let's finish what we started, shall we?"

Morocco's hand suddenly drifted, gripping Cody's cybernetic arm with an oozing malice.

"I don't believe you actually experienced losing the original, so please... allow me to provide you some closure."

Mixed with a horrific screech of metal, Cody's bloodcurdling scream shook the air, before the mangled, brutalized arm was thrown into the clearing, smashing unceremoniously against the ground.

Time seemed to stand still, the team filled with a visceral, shattering terror, as Tears mixed with the blood streaming down his face, an agonized, guttural scream escaping him.

Golden sparks illuminated the damaged stump on his shoulder, exposed wiring and shards being slowly soaked by blood pouring from where the metal plating and wiring had connected to the flesh.

Charlie's hands were clamped tightly over his mouth, his horrified eyes wide as tears streamed from them, bile filling his throat at the sight of his alternate Son's agony.

Suddenly, Kade ran forward, a scream of pure rage escaping his lungs as he charged ahead, grabbing a stray rock from the ground to hurl at the monster, smashing the screen on it's face.

The monster recoiled back, dropping it's victim in surprise.

Cody plummeted to the ground, crumpling in a heap.

Kade rushed over, frantically sitting him up, throwing his left arm over his shoulder.

"CODY, SPEAK TO ME, C'MON MAN!"

Cody's face was etched with sheer terror and pain, his eyes darting to the ruined stump on his shoulder, heaving gasps escaping him.

"P-Primus... It hurts.. Oh... it hurts...."

Kade stood him up, trying to ignore the burning at the back of his throat, the pounding in his chest.

"Hey, hey, it's gonna be okay, it's gonna be okay..."

Cody leaned against Kade, who did his best to support his weight, when the horrible voice boomed from behind them.

"You.... W-Will regret T-That...."

Morocco's voice glitched and stammed. The screen, shattered by the rock, had fallen away, revealing the wires and circuitry beneath, as well as two glowing red lights, presumably the monster's eyes.

"I cannot wait to watch you die again."

Kade clutched Cody tightly, frozen as the monster loomed overhead, his arms rearing back as the monster prepared to strike.

But then, the sudden crush of the foliage behind him made him pause, before an orange blur smashed into him, sending the monster flying.

Blades stood at the edge of the clearing, his face filled with an unnatural rage.

With the pause Broken, Heatwave followed Blades's example, and Tackled Morocco.

"YOU FRAGGING MONSTER!!!"

Heatwave couldn't contain his rage as he viciously and savagely attacked Morocco, beating and tearing at him.

in twisted Karma, Heatwave grasped one of Morocco's own arms, tearing it from the monster's Body, smashing it to pieces before throwing it aside.

"HEATWAVE!!! HEATWAVE!!! STOP!!!"

Boulder suddenly yanked Heatwave away, Heatwave struggling and trying to escape the surprise hold.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?!?"

"HEATWAVE, JUST CALM DOWN!!!"

Heatwave tried to escape Boulder's grip, before Boulder maneuvered him slightly, giving him a look back at the clearing.

Cody had been laid on the ground, Kade and Frankie on either side of him.

His face was contorted with pain, the human members of the team circled protectively around him.

Heatwave felt some twist within his spark, slowly ceasing as he took in the sight of the battered boy, agonized, but alive.

That droning rage slowly eased from Heatwave's mind, clarity returning to him.

"... i... I'm-"

"I know."

Boulder released his grip, his optics seeming to bore into Heatwave's Spark.

"I know."

Blades rushed over, the rage from before melting to concern.

"What'd I miss?!"

Chase joined the group, recounting,

"We must lure Morocco into Griffin Crest!!!"

As the Bots conversed, Morocco, his frame now twisted and warped, plating peeled back and wiring exposed like veins, slowly pulled himself to his feet, the monster's cooked head cocked as the red lights blazed in the darkness.

His hunched, mangled body took crooked, shambling steps, the claws from his remaining arm drawn as he approached the conversing Bots.

Just as he moved to strike, Cody's voice cut through the chaos.

"BEHIND YOU!"

The Bots split apart as Morocco charged forward, slipping right through their midst.

Boulder- the closest- reacted quickly, Delivering a forceful kick to Morocco's torso and sending him staggering back.

The humans of the team watched, before Cody gasped out,

"Go... Go help... i'll be... okay..."

"No, we're not leaving you!"

Charlie was pleading, his voice hoarse annd strained.

"We can't, we can't!"

"Please..."

A softness formed in Cody's eyes, something almost... content.

"Help them... Stop him... End this, please."

The team listened to his pleas, before Frankie stood, pulling the Hardening Foam grenade from her pocket, her eyes latched onto Morocco with a deadly focus.

"This ends NOW!!!"

Her boots flared to life, and she charged through the air.

The team rose, and Kade nodded to Charlie, grasping Cody tightly.

The team took off towards the fight, and Kade eased Cody into a sitting position.

"Okay, easy, easy."

Cody tried catching his breath, but as he forced air down his battered lungs, something caught his eye.

Left behind in the chaos of the moment, was the case housing Doc's EMP.

Kade spotted the case, and the two exchanged a look.

Across the clearing, Morocco's fighting techniques had greatly degraded, the monster almost moving in an animalistic style.

His shambling, crooked form lunged at the bots, quick enough to evade their attacks, but slashing out without any sense of a pattern.

"I-I wil-l not.... E-End thi-is way-y...."

"Yes. You. Will."

Frankie surged in, throwing a series of the hardening foam grenades at his feet, quickly sealing him into place upon expansion.

Morocco struggled, as the team circled.

The foam started cracking, and Frankie prepared another grenade, when Kade charged up, supporting Cody as he held up the case with his free hand.

"THE CASE!"

Doc's eyes widened, gasping as he realized he'd forgotten it.

Cody gingerly pulled away, and Kade cracked open the case, pulling out the delicate EMP inside.

"CATCH!"

He hurled it up towards Frankie, who caught it.

She glanced to Doc, who yelled, "THE SWITCH!!!"

Frankie activated the switch, and threw herself through the air, killing the thrust on the boots to accelerate her momentum.

She dove through the air, and slapped the EMP against the monster's chest, the thrust returning as she spiraled away, landing on the ground near the team.

The team watched in bated breath as the EMP sparked, Morocco letting out a garbled gasp, before freezing, the red lights flickering and dying.

The team let out a collective sigh, feeling a weighted breath lift.

But.

Purple sparks suddenly emanated from the monster's chest, purple mixed with a familiar golden aura.

The energy surged and pulsed, before the red glow returned to the monster's eyes, and and the remaining clawed hand reached out, ripping the device from it's chest

"H-How PITIFUL."

The team watched in an anguished, rageful despair, as Morocco shattered the hardening foam anchoring him in place.

"Y-You PATHETIC sorts, YOU R-REALLY THINK YOUR-RSELV-VES CAPABLE OF D-DEFEATING ME?!"

"Yeah, I do."

All eyes turned as Cody staggered his way through the crowd, his left hand clutching the mangled Cybernetic.

"Hey.... Since you seem to enjoy my power so much... I think i'll do you a favor."

Cody held up the crushed arm, and everyone watched in fixation as the golden glow suddenly sparked from the damaged stump on his shoulder, seeming to draw power from the cybernetic, draining the limb's lingering Bio-Electricity.

Cody threw the arm aside, his shoulder crackling and sparking, the glow from his eyes illuminating a cold, empty look.

"Enjoy the rest of it."

Everyone jumped back, as a torrent of golden power erupted from Cody, blasting Morocco head on,

Sending him right through the fence to Griffin Crest.

Morocco careened hard into the ground, the stray electricity crackling and thrashing, like it was attempting to escape him.

"N-No... W-What have y-you done..."

Chase studied the struggling monster, dryly commentating,

"You have entered Griffin Crest, known Locally as The EMP Zone. You will not be leaving."

Morocco was paralyzed, his power quickly fading in and out, his system desperately trying to cling to any sort of solid consciousnesses, anything tangible to hold onto, anything to remain alive.

But as each system failed, one by one, Morocco was filled with a sensation he hadn't felt in a very long time.

Fear.

With the last bit of consciousness he would ever experience, Morocco stared at the dark skies above, his final words escaping him.

"How... Clever...."

And with that, the man who long cheated death finally succumbed to the void beckoning him.

The red lights faded for a final time, and the metal body went limp.

The team stared, and the realization of the finality washed over them.

Kade suddenly gasped, snapping out of the trance.

"OH GOD, CODY!"

Cody had passed out, laying limp on the grounds.

The team rushed over, clearing space for Dani to check him.

Just as she moved to check for a pulse, his chest started rising, his eyes weakly cracking open

"Is... he..."

Frankie knelt down, gently cupping his face as tears streamed from her eyes.

"It's over."

"Ov...er...."

Cody rough, hoarse voice seemed to stick in his throat, his wheezing breath fragile and labored.

Yet, something shone in his eyes.

Something... light, cleansing.

"Over..."

A weak, crooked smile stretched across his face.

"It's over.... Finally.... Over..."

A soft, labored laugh escaped him, slowly growing in intensity and volume, before it grew lower and rasper, his chest heaving and shuddering violently as the laughter morphed into a deep, wailing sob, fresh tears paving a trail through the dried blood and grime sticking to his face.

slowly, the sobs died out, and his breathing slowed, as his eyes fluttered shut, his body completely spent.

He fell unconscious, and as Dani tended to him, the team could only look between one another, wondering what could possibly come next.

[trulyunholy]

no in-between | part two

matt murdock x reader, college au

notes: 18+, minors please DNI. reader is written as afab, but it's not specifically stated. no use of y/n. word count: 3.6k

part one here

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“What’s going on with you?” Annie asks when she finds you cursing in the hotel lobby.

“No room, apparently,” you tell her through a frustrated sigh. “Online reservation got fucked up and they don’t have any more vacant rooms.”

“Shit, indeed,” Annie says. “What are you gonna do?”

You sigh deeply again and shrug. “Figure something out, I guess.”

“Do you wanna crash with me?” she offers. “I’m staying with Quin too, but-”

“No, no, that’s alright,” you decline quickly. This trip is already stressing you out, and as much as you love Annie and how close the two of you have become over the past few months, staying even a night with her and her girlfriend sounded like hell. “I’ll figure this out. But thanks.”

“Well, let me know if you change your mind,” she says. And then she’s off again, flouncing up the stairs toward her room to do whatever it is she does to get ready for the rest of her day.

You sink down into one of the lobby chairs and bury your face in your hands, allowing yourself a moment of self-pity. But it’s quickly interrupted when someone politely clears their throat next to you.

“Oh, shit, uh, I mean- Dr. Murdock. Hi,” you stutter, a mixture of embarrassment and surprise in your voice.

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” he says politely. “You’re out a room?”

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Then, a little too quickly, you add, “But, I mean, it’s not a big deal. I can just, like, sleep in the lobby or something. Maybe they’ll make an exception for me since they screwed up.”

Your attempt at a joke falls flat. But the way he says your name then, followed by a humorless laugh, like you going without a bed was the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard of, well, it tightens something in your chest.

“You aren’t sleeping in the lobby,” he tells you. “And it’s unlikely you’ll find any other hotels nearby with vacancies. Turns out this conference has most places pretty booked up.” Then, only seconds later, he holds a plastic card out toward you. “Just take mine.”

“I, uh-” You laugh uncomfortably, thinking maybe it’s a joke. “I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” he tells you, matter-of-factly.

You feel frozen in place. You don’t want to be rude and turn down the more-than-generous offer that Dr. Murdock has no obligation to make, but you can’t possibly accept it. Besides, wouldn’t it be inappropriate? You aren’t sure where the line fell on that, but it feels blurry at best.

“But where would you stay?” you ask solemnly. “If I take your room, I mean, where would you sleep?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he answers, flashing you a smile so hypnotic you couldn’t look away, even if you wanted to. “I’ll figure something out.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” you say, a joking tone contrasting against your racing heart.

“Come on,” he tells you, slipping the door key back in his coat pocket and starting toward the front doors of the hotel. “We can argue about this on the way to the conference.”

The first day of the two-day conference is…uneventful. Okay, it’s boring. But it’s not like you can skip, and you have to admit that several of the presentations did give you solid ideas for your own thesis project. But after several hours of speakers and polite conversations with acquaintances and scholarly strangers alike, you’re ready for the day to be over.  As luck would have it, you run into Dr. Murdock in the hotel lobby, both of you arriving at nearly the same time. Unfortunately, he’d won the argument earlier, and you’d agreed to take his room. But now, standing in front of the door to his hotel room, you’re hesitant again.

“I still don’t feel good about this,” you tell him as he holds the key card toward you expectantly. You take it. “But thank you.”

You wait for him to say something, to say goodbye, anything. But he doesn’t. When you don’t say anything either, he clears his throat.

“My, uh- my suitcase is still-”

“Oh, right!” You feel like an idiot. “Sorry.”

You unlock the door and step inside, taking in the room. It looks just like every other hotel room you’ve stayed in, with a decent sized bed and a television perched on top of a chest of drawers. There’s a desk pushed against the wall with an office chair in front of it, and a small couch opposite the bed.

It gives you an idea.

“Okay, this may be strange, but hear me out. What if I sleep on the couch?” you ask before you can think better of it.

He steps in behind you and shuts the door. He doesn’t immediately answer you, so you quickly continue.

“I can sleep on the couch and then you’ll still have a bed! I- I know it’s not ideal. Hell, I know it probably isn’t exactly appropriate. But it won’t be weird, I swear. Or, maybe it will be, but it doesn’t have to be.”

You hate the way you ramble when you’re nervous, and you hate that you’re always doing it in front of Dr. Murdock. His face remains unreadable, so you take a deep breath and start again.

Look, I don’t like the idea of sleeping in the lobby or a broom closet somewhere, but I don’t like the idea of you having to, either. Especially since you’re, y’know…”

“Blind?” he suggests with a smirk.

“Well, yes,” you admit sheepishly, heat rushing to your cheeks. “But there’s a perfectly good couch here, and there’s no reason either of us should go without if we don’t have to.”

Silence again. More than anything, you wish you could just read his mind, know what he’s thinking.

“It really is a win-win right?” you add in as a last-ditch effort to convince him. “I’ll stay on the couch, I’ll stay out of your way. And I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”

What is wrong with you? This is such a bad idea, and he’s probably going to admonish you, tell you how inappropriate the mere suggestion of it is, that he’s going to have to report this. You’d probably deserve it, too.

“Alright,” he finally says hesitantly, to your surprise. “But you can have the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“What? No-” you begin to protest, but he raises a hand to stop you.

“You can have the bed,” he repeats, slower this time, “and I’ll take the couch.”

It’s not up for discussion, you realize. You nod your head, say okay, and move to put your bag on the bed. As you begin to unpack, you remember another awkward aspect of room-sharing.

“Is, uh, is it alright if I take a shower?”

You aren’t sure why you feel a little embarrassed asking. Taking a shower isn’t anything intimate, and there would be walls and a door with a lock between the two of you. No chance for accidental slip-ups. Still, the thought of him being in the next room while you were in such a vulnerable state, well, it’s enough to send something icy through your body that you know a hot shower won’t wash away.

“All yours,” he says, not turning toward you as he shuffles through his own suitcase.

“Thanks,” you say, hurrying to the bathroom. “Promise I’ll be quick.”

You think he says something else, but it’s lost behind the heavy click of the bathroom door.

You aren’t sure why your heart is racing again as you adjust the knob in the shower, trying to figure out which way to turn the damn thing to get the water to a decent temperature. Well, that’s not quite true. You know exactly why it’s racing. It’s racing because you’re sharing a room with Dr. Murdock. Because he’s only feet away from you as you kick off your uncomfortable heels and slip out of your dress. Because you know that tonight you’re going to see your professor -your kind, helpful, smart, stupidly attractive professor- in a very less than professional setting.

God, what are you doing?

Why did you agree to this? As you step into the shower and struggle to find comfort in the low water pressure, you can’t help but think about how much better sleeping in the lobby or a broom closet or literally anywhere else would be.

Well, maybe not better. But it would avoid a situation that could so easily ruin things. The way it could make these ridiculous and stupid and inappropriate feelings you’ve already formed so much worse. But what else were you supposed to do? It’s the logical choice. And he agreed to it.

But you suggested it.

You push down the thought as you make quick work of washing your hair and ignoring the temptation of easing the uncomfortable pressure building up inside of you. By the time you’re done and dressed in your pajamas, no more than twenty minutes have passed. You aren’t sure you’ve ever gotten ready for bed so quickly in your life.

“All done,” you say cheerfully as you step out of the bathroom, leftover steam rolling out of the door behind you. “Bathroom’s free if you…need it.

“Great,” he says, shooting you a comfortable smile that almost feels forced. Like a mask. One of politeness, of tense togetherness. You wonder if you’re wearing the same one. “I hope you didn’t rush.”

“No, no,” you say with a tense chuckle. “Just, uh, exhausted. Ready for bed.”

He nods, and without another word, he’s gone, the bathroom door closing softly behind him.

You sit on the bed for no more than a minute before you start devising a plan. There’s no way you’re letting him sleep on this couch. For one, it’s insanely small, and you’re significantly shorter than he is, so it only makes sense. Also, you can’t, in good conscience, let your professor, your senior, sleep on that tiny couch while you, his student, take up the entire queen sized bed yourself. It just wouldn’t be fair. And since this whole situation was your idea in the first place, you feel you have to get the short stick. You can’t justify this whole thing to yourself otherwise.

So you quickly grab a couple pillows off of the bed and an extra blanket from the closet, and you make yourself as comfortable as possible on the couch, your legs curled closer to your stomach than is strictly comfortable, but you manage. If you can fall asleep here before he gets out of the bathroom, you figure he’ll just let you sleep and take the bed. He couldn’t argue with you that way. Another win in your book.

At first you’re worried that you’ll have a hard time falling asleep. You always have trouble sleeping away from home, away from your own bed with your own pillows and blankets and your little sound machine that you forgot to pack for the trip. But you’re exhausted. From the plane this morning, from the long day, from the hours and hours you spent before the trip preparing for this conference. And as you lay in the dark, listening to the rain against the building and the thunder growing more distant, and as you hear the fall of water as the shower is turned on again, you finally drift off to sleep.

When you wake up, you aren’t sure why. Maybe it’s the thunder that moved closer while you slept. Maybe it was your full bladder from all of the water you nervously kept drinking to keep your hands busy at the conference hall. Maybe it was just how uncomfortable this damn couch was. Whatever the reason, you’re awake now, and you take the opportunity to get up and stretch and take a quick trip to the bathroom.

You’re careful to be as quiet as you possibly can, even washing your hands under the smallest stream of water you can manage to get out of the sink. But by the time you crack open the bathroom door, you see him in the light that spills out, sitting up in the bed and rubbing his face.

“Shit,” you whisper, even though there’s no real need to whisper. You’re both up now. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry, I tried to be quiet.”

“I’m a light sleeper,” is all he says. His voice, though, doesn’t sound like he was sleeping. It sounds clear, alert. Much different from your still-groggy voice. You wonder if he always wakes up so alert.

“I’m sorry,” you offer again, voice still quiet.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Which makes sense. What is there to say? But you move from the bathroom back toward the couch, and click on the lamp on the coffee table next to you. The room wasn’t huge by any means. But there’s enough distance between the two of you that it doesn’t feel as awkward as you were afraid it would. 

What is awkward, though, is the silence. The air is tense while you stand by the coffee table and he sits resting against the headboard, looking completely lost in thought. You take the opportunity to look him over, taking in his slept-in appearance. The comforter is pulled up to his waist, but you admire the light t-shirt he’s wearing, so different from his usual professional attire. You take in his shoulders, his arms, and stare at him in the soft lamp light longer than necessary. You’re completely startled when he finally speaks up.

“Why did you take the couch?’ he asks, his voice soft but his tone serious. “I told you-”

“I couldn’t take the bed,” you start, defensively. “You’re my professor, and my superior, and you’re blind, for god's sake. What kind of person would I be if I let you sleep on this couch when you paid for the room? Especially because that thing is so damn uncomfortable.” You rub your back dramatically as if to prove a point, but a genuine stretch and groan follows.

He goes silent again. You don’t think you've ever seen him so quiet. You aren’t sure if it’s the night, or if it’s the situation, or maybe both. But you would give anything to be in his head right now. To know what he’s thinking, what he’s contemplating, what’s taking up so much of his mind.

“Sleep on the bed,” he says, and there’s no hint of a question in his voice. As if he’s worried that the demand was too harsh, he adds a soft, “Please.”

“You can’t sleep-”

“I won’t sleep on the couch,” he says, beating you to your own tired argument.

“What, are you going to sleep on the floor?” you bite back. You’re tired. It’s late, you couldn’t have been asleep long, it’s still dark outside, and you wish he would just give in and let you win this one.

“No, I-“ he cuts himself short, seeming unsure for just a moment before regaining his composure. “This bed is more than big enough for two people,” he says, voice level. “It’s big enough that two people could sleep on it without…being in each other's way.”

Oh. He’s suggesting…that. He’s actually suggesting that the two of you share a bed. 

He wants to share a bed. With you. 

No, that’s not right. 

With you? No, of course it’s not like that, you tell yourself. He’s just being diplomatic. It’s an easy solution to come to, just like you suggesting the couch. It doesn’t mean anything. It can’t mean anything. 

But if anyone finds out that you shared a bed with your professor., even if it was nothing like it sounded, well, it could be disastrous. For both of you.

But the bed looks warm, and inviting, and a thousand times better than the scratchy extra blanket and that uncomfortable couch. And he’s right, there’s more than enough room for you to each sleep on one side with plenty of space in the middle. There won’t be any risk of…anything. You stop yourself immediately from thinking about what that anything could be and take a deep breath.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course. I understand that it isn’t exactly appropriate and if you’re uncomfortable, forget I even suggested it. But…” He lets the word linger in the air, and it’s so full of possibilities, of actions and consequences and everything in between, and your chest starts to feel tight again. “It’s a win-win. Right?”

“What if someone finds out?” 

The question is out of your mouth before you even realize what you’re saying, and you wish you could take it back. It makes it sound like you’re insinuating that something could happen, when that isn’t a possibility at all, of course it isn’t, because he’s professional and smart and kind, and you’re…well, you.

Luckily he doesn’t give you much time to spiral.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

You know it’s meant as a joke, as a tongue-in-cheek, let’s make light of an awkward situation, kind of thing. But…maybe it’s the hushed tone he’s still speaking, or the soft yellow light casting shadows in just the right way, or his soft t-shirt and his disheveled hair and his arms and my god those arms.

It’s almost like he notices your reaction; maybe he hears the way your breath catches, or maybe your heart is beating so loudly he could hear it out of your chest and across the room. It sure as hell feels like it’s pounding loud and fast enough for that to be possible. But he tenses up too, just a bit. Just enough to be noticeable under your admiringly sharp stare.

“We both need the rest,” he adds, voice much calmer than his appearance would suggest. It sounds practiced, measured. “You won’t get any rest on that couch, and I won’t be able to sleep knowing that you’re miserable on it. Besides, I’ll be gone before you wake up.”

It’s meant to reassure you. Or maybe to throw your words back at you to lighten the mood, to try to show that things aren’t as tense as they clearly were. But you swallow it down and force a pathetic smile onto your face and into your voice.

“There’s enough pillows here to make a barrier between us,” you say, trying out a joke to lighten things on your end, too. He chuckles and shakes his head and the tension does melt away a little. “I am exhausted. And you’re right, I won’t get any sleep on that poor excuse for a couch,” you say. “Just…as long as you’re sure it’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” he says, and, almost immediately, throws the comforter back, settles himself back in bed, and turns to his side to face the wall. To face away from you.

Without another word, you flip the lamp off and carefully make your way to the bed. You go slowly to avoid tripping or hitting your foot like you’re prone to do, but also to delay the inevitable disappointment that being so close to him will undoubtedly bring. Once you get into the bed though, you swear it’s the most comfortable bed you’ve ever laid in, and the sheets are so warm. And the rain hitting rhythmically against the window reminds you of your sound machine that you left at home, and your exhaustion washes over you and weighs down your eyelids once more.

“Thank you,” you mumble a few moments later before drifting off.

When you open your eyes, the room is flooded with gray morning light. The rain stopped overnight but you can tell from your view through the window that it could start up again at any moment. You’re so warm under the thick comforter and the thought of having to get up makes you groan out loud. You have to admit, you haven’t slept this well in a long time. As the sleep dissipates from your brain, you remember where you are and the situation that transpired the night before. You feel a coil of anticipation growing tight in your stomach, but when you turn around and shuffle to sit up, you see the bed is empty.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting. He told you he’d be gone by the time you woke up. So why does disappointment grow in your stomach and snake through your veins?  You pull the comforter up across your chest and grant yourself a few seconds to sit in that disappointment. Would it have been worse if he had been there when you woke up? Would what seemed so simple in the soft lamp light last night be more complex, more uncomfortable in the gray light of the overcast morning? You aren’t sure.

But you don’t have much time to think about it now anyway. You have to get up and get ready for the busy day ahead of you. With one more stretch and a deep breath that leaves you ignoring the fact that the sheets smell like him, you force yourself out of bed and toward the bathroom.

You wonder if you’ll find any evidence of his daily life in the hotel bathroom, toothpaste or body wash maybe. You can’t help but think about what his domestic life is like. What it could look like and where you could fit into it. Would you ever be able to fit into the life of a man like him?

No. Of course you couldn’t. And you should really stop thinking about things like that, you tell yourself.

The bathroom is totally clean, stocked with fresh towels and all. You tell yourself that the feeling tugging at your stomach again is nothing more than a need to eat breakfast.

[hbyrde36]

No Vacancy

Chapter 11: Private Party

WC: 6366 | R: Explicit | CH: 11/12 | AO3 | Now Complete!

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10

*EDDIE*

“Huh,” Eddie huffed, flopping down onto Chrissy’s neatly made bed. It jostled the carefully arranged mountain of pillows that were stacked up against the headboard, sending several of them tumbling to the floor. Why did girls always have so many goddamn pillows?

“So that’s why you never let me come in here before. You do live in a two bedroom!”

Chrissy bent to retrieve her fallen children and put them back in their proper place, except for the last, a bright pink fuzzy number with a cross-stitched peace sign on its front that she wacked him in the back of the head with. “I thought we’d moved past this. Haven't I apologized enough for the whole setup thing?”

He stuck out his bottom lip, arms crossed over his chest. “Will the lies never cease, Christine? I feel robbed! You and Robin were never sharing a bed?!”

“We are now and that’s what matters, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waved a hand through the air. “But where’s the pining for the person lying right next to you night after night?! Where’s the lovesick staring at the other person’s face while they sleep and wishing you could just tell them how you feel?! Where’s the drama?!”

“I think we've had more than enough of that around here—for life. Maybe now it’s time for us all to just be happy.”

“Happy…” Eddie repeated with a sigh. 

He hadn’t meant for it to come off so melancholy. He was happy—really and truly.

It’d been a month of pure bliss since he and Steve returned from Hawkins together hand-in-hand. Since all four of them had come back together with apologies, and made up. 

The weeks had been full of passionate nights, and sometimes mornings when he and Steve were both too tired to do much more than cuddle once he came home from the bar—punctuated by lazy afternoons by the motel pool, and double dinner dates with the girls whenever Eddie’s work schedule would allow for it.

But just there, in the background, in the dark corner of Eddie’s mind was this great big looming thing.

“Uh oh. Is the honeymoon phase over already? Did Steve finally realize all your flaws are actually annoying, and not cute quirks?”

“No! Of course not. And I resent the implication that my many eccentricities are anything less than adorable.”

Chrissy rolled her eyes. “Something’s bothering you. What’s wrong?”

Eddie hesitated. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a secret or anything, but it didn’t escape his notice that Steve hadn’t brought up the subject of his impending new job placement even once since their little talk.

“Nothing is wrong, exactly. It’s just… did you know Steve is staying here—or like, moving here—permanently, when the summer is over?”

“Robin mentioned he was thinking about taking a job at the elementary school, but I didn't know he’d decided.”

“Well, he has, and he wants me to think about staying too.”

Chrissy, who had turned away to rifle through the cosmetics bag sitting open on her dresser, froze, the tip of her mascara wand hovering just above her lashes. 

“And are you?” She asked after a beat, resuming her makeup routine. “Uh… thinking about it, I mean?” 

“Am I—” Eddie grunted, slapping his hand down on the bed. “It's literally the only thing I've been able to think about for weeks!”

“Weeks!” She screeched. “Wait, when did this happen?”

“The day we drove back.”

She gaped at him through the small mirror of her blush compact. “And you’re just telling me this now?!”

He shrugged. “I’ve been a little busy.”

“Eddie,” She sighed, snapping the compact shut and spinning on her heel to face him. 

“So, what are your thoughts?”

While he knew she asked out of curiosity and concern for him and Steve and the implications for their future together, she was asking for herself too. 

She’d often made comments over the years, during their all too brief phone calls and in letters, about them living near each other again one day, either in the same town like they did as kids growing up in Hawkins, or better yet, in side-by-side homes or at the end of the same cul-de-sac. 

But those kinds of picket fence dreams were never Eddie’s style, or so he’d always told himself.

“I think…” Eddie stared down at his own hands now resting in his lap, nervously spinning his chunky rings around and around. 

“Me and Steve, I think we’ve done this whole thing out of order. We’ve been living together essentially, since before we were a couple—before we were even friends really. Then we both said I love you within the first few weeks, and now considering permanent for-real moving? Moving towns, moving in together—on purpose this time? That’s huge! I mean, all that’s left after that is to get married, and grow old together, and die, and—” 

Suddenly Eddie felt like he couldn’t get a full breath, what little air he did manage to take into his lungs doing nothing to ease the burning in his chest. His heart raced wildly, and he swallowed hard, tilting wide terrified eyes up to look at Chrissy. 

“Oh god, do you think he wants to get married someday? I don’t know if I’m built for—“

“Ooookay, babe. Let’s just calm down for a second here.” Chrissy sank down onto the bed beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into her side—resting her cheek on the top of his head. 

“For one—honey, gay marriage isn’t even legal.”

Oh right. 

Her words should have filled him with relief, and they did, but to his surprise, just as equal was the feeling of disappointment brought on by the reminder. 

“And for two��” Chrissy went on. “It doesn’t have to be all that. You can always have your own rooms, if say, you decide you want to stay here but you need to slow things down with Steve, or just want some space.”

“No—” He was shaking his head before she’d even finished. “No, I don't want to go backwards. I–I love having him right there. I love his face being the last thing I see before I go to sleep, and the first I see in the morning even though that means waking up at an ungodly hour. It’s totally worth it for his goodbye kiss. I love his sweetness, his gentleness, and the sound of his voice. The soft little smile he gives me when he’s half asleep and I crawl into bed at the end of the night, like I'm his favorite thing in the whole fucking world.”

Eddie took a big breath, he could wax poetic on everything he loved about Steve for hours if she’d let him, but what it really boiled down to was one simple fact. 

“I just love him, Chris.”

Chrissy sniffled, leaning away from him to wipe carefully at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. “Sorry. I just never thought I'd hear you talk about someone that way.”

Eddie sat up too, shaking his head at himself. “Yeah, me either.”

“So, what's holding you back?”

“Honestly? I wanted to say yes right then and there, the second he told me. The second I recovered from the shock, anyway. But he looked so nervous about it, and scared, and we’d just put things back together again, and—and so I’ve been doing what he asked.”

Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. 

“I really don’t want to mess this up, and I know I don’t have a lot of experience with this stuff, but I can't help feeling like it’s too soon, like we’re going too fast. What if it fizzles out, and a year from now we can’t stand the sight of each other?” 

She snorted. “Highly unlikely.”

“How do you figure?”

“I think at this point you can admit that you’ve had a crush on Steve since high school, maybe even middle school. That’s a long time to carry a torch for someone. If it’s lasted this long, I’d say those feelings are here to stay.” 

Eddie pushed himself to his feet, resisting the urge to stomp like a petulant child. “Jesus H. Christ. First Uncle Wayne, and now you?! I’m never gonna live that down.”

“Who’s had a crush on who since high school?” Robin's voice filtered in from the other room, just before she appeared in Chrissy's doorway.

“You didn’t tell me she was here.” Eddie scowled at Chrissy before swinging his gaze back around to settle on Robin. 

They may have made nice since he fixed things with Steve, and Eddie did love the shit out of her, but he and Robin’s relationship was akin to that of a slightly antagonistic brother and sister, and he lived for the bit. “Don’t you have a job you should be doing, Buckley?”

Robin cocked her hip, leaning it against the door frame as she crossed her arms, giving him very pointed eye contact. “Don’t you, Munson?” 

Frowning, Eddie glanced at his watch. He had a decent amount of time left before he had to be at the bar to start setting up for Chrissy’s surprise party later, but he still needed to go back upstairs to change, and to get a different little surprise ready for the other love of his life.

“So, you’ve had it bad for Steve since high school too?” Robin said when he didn't hit her with a comeback. “Jeez you two really are perfect for each other.”

Eddie began to roll his eyes but stopped mid-motion as he processed all of what she’d just said. “Wait… too?”

“Oh,” Robin’s eyebrows flew up. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No.” Eddie took a slow step towards her with narrowed eyes.

“Right!” Robin straightened abruptly, hooking a thumb over her shoulder as she started slowly backing away. “So, I’d better get back to the desk. I was just stopping in to say hi and, uh, grab my lunch… I left it on the counter.”

“Robin,” Eddie growled after her, “get back here and explain yourself!” 

“I'll see you tonight!” She shouted back, followed immediately by the slamming of a door.

Coward.

Eddie sighed, looking back to see Chrissy with both hands covering her mouth, practically in tears with silent laughter. 

“I guess I'd better go too, don’t want to be late for work.” Eddie grumbled.

“Sure, Eds,” Chrissy said, eyes still sparkling. “I’ll see you later.”

As far as she knew it was going to be a night like any other. Steve was off the next day, so once the motel office closed for the night, he, Robin, and Chrissy would come to Tide’s to hang out where Eddie could join in from behind the bar whenever he wasn’t busy with customers. 

It being a week out from her actual birthday, she didn't suspect a thing.

Eddie had talked to his boss, and Dan agreed to close the bar to the public from ten p.m. on for a private event so they could celebrate his best friend with the fanfare she deserved. The older man also offered to handle the guest list, aware that Eddie and his friends didn’t know many of the locals yet, and promised to keep it to those he knew to be allies or members of the queer community themselves, so everyone could feel comfortable being themselves for the night without fear of judgment.

As the clock ticked down to party time, Eddie couldn’t stop watching the door, his eyes searching for Chrissy’s blonde ponytail, or Steve’s familiar swoop of chestnut hair, any sign that his three best friends had arrived. They’d put up the private party sign an hour ago, and slowly began to clear the bar of any straggling tourists while the weekend bouncer, Manny, sat out front on a stool, ensuring no one uninvited got inside.

At ten o’clock on the dot they finally arrived, and for a moment all Eddie could do was stare.

Weather due to the heat, which had hit another level as July turned to August, or as a personal assault on Eddie’s sanity, Steve had forgone his usual polo shirts and button ups in favor of an old Madonna tour t-shirt that he’d cut into a crop top, showing off even more tanned skin to its best advantage against the crisp white of the fabric. 

It was an effort, but Eddie forced himself to look away and jump into action, ducking under the bar to rush over and greet his people.

He pressed a quick kiss hello to Steve’s cheek but didn’t let himself linger, going right for his best girl straight after, scooping her up into a tight hug and spinning her around. 

Chrissy threw her head back, squealing with delight as her feet lifted off the ground. 

“Happy Birthday, Chris,” Eddie said as he finally set her down, pressing lips to the top of her head. 

Her eyes darted all around the bar, taking in the small crowd, the rotating lights, the decorations, balloons, and finally the big hand painted banner strung up above the bar. 

“This is all for me?” She asked.

Eddie grinned, throwing an arm over her shoulder as he turned to address their fellow revelers.

“Excuse me everyone!” He shouted, waiting for the music to be turned down before continuing. “I want to thank you all for being here, and Dan especially for helping put this all together. I’d like to introduce you all to the birthday girl!” 

Hearty applause broke out across the room, as well as shouts of, “Happy Birthday!” And even a few good natured wolf whistles when Chrissy leaned away from Eddie to steal a kiss from her girlfriend.

“Were you in on this too?” Chrissy shouted to Robin over the cacophony.

Robin nodded, “I take no credit though. I might have known about it, but Eddie did all the work.”

Before Eddie could correct the record and explain again that he really owed it all to Dan, the man himself was striding up to them.

“Evening, girls, Steve.” Dan greeted them warmly. 

Steve, and the girls to a lesser extent, had been spending more and more time at the bar lately, and had all quickly become friendly with Eddie’s boss.

“And a very happy birthday to you,” the older man continued, inclining his head at Chrissy. “If you’d like, I thought I could take you and Robin around and introduce you to some of your guests?” 

The girls agreed, promising to meet back up with Steve and Eddie a little later, before rushing off to mingle.

With a palm pressed to his lower back, Eddie led Steve over to the bar. Not that he actually needed the guiding hand, but Eddie was gonna go nuts if he didn’t get to touch Steve soon, and it was one of the few ways he could do that while still maintaining some semblance of decorum.

Steve slid into his usual barstool down the end by the corner, furthest from the speakers so they could actually carry on a conversation, pouting when Eddie let him go to sneak back behind the bar.

“I thought you’d be on this side of the bar tonight.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, with you dressed like that?” Eddie drummed his fingers along the bartop. “Keeping this wood between us is the only way I'll be able to keep my hands to myself.”

“Who said you had to keep your hands to yourself?”

“Steven,” Eddie warned.

“I thought this was a safe space tonight.”

“Yes love, but I don’t think Dan would appreciate it if I dropped to my knees for you in the middle of the dance floor.”

Steve sagged in his seat, letting out an over dramatic sigh. “Okay, fine.”

Eddie chuckled. Sometimes he wasn’t sure who was rubbing off on who more.

They chatted a little about Steve’s day on the beach while Eddie put together their drinks. The usual for Steve, Jack and Coke with lime, no ice, and a tequila on the rocks for himself. Apparently, the jellyfish were out in full force and it sounded like Steve had spent half his day treating burns with vinegar.

“So, Robin said something interesting earlier today,” Eddie said after a while, when Steve was finished with his stories, and he was pouring out their second round of drinks for the night.

“Oh yeah?” 

Eddie opened his mouth to elaborate but quickly snapped it shut as his boss appeared at Steve’s side—alone.

“Abandoning our girls already, Dan?” Steve asked.

The older man huffed a laugh. “I was just getting in the way anyhow. Introduced them to Tracey and her partner Pat, and the four of them seem to be hitting it off. Figured I’d leave them to make friends. Tracey’s the manager over at Ocean First bank y’know.”

Eddie smiled widely as he met Steve’s eyes, and he knew they had to be thinking the same thing. Not to get ahead of themselves, but if Chrissy and Robin got in good with someone from the bank, it could make all the difference in the motel’s future. 

“That’s, uh, a good friend to have,” Steve commented.

“You aint kiddin’!” Dan clapped Steve on the shoulder, his eyes scanning the room. 

Suddenly he perked up, saying to himself “Oh, there he is,” and began to wave someone over.

Eddie followed his line of sight to the door and nearly choked on his own spit.

Motherfucker.

He felt all the blood drain from his face as another man approached, a younger man who looked to be about their age—a very attractive man who looked eerily similar to the one Eddie had seen from his hiding spot, kissing Steve goodbye on the fateful night that had changed the course of his life forever. 

Eddie reached over, curling a possessive hand over Steve's where it rested on the bar. He held his breath, waiting for Steve’s reaction, but he was oblivious, looking down and taking a sip of his drink.

“Boys, this is my son, Danny.”

Steve's head snapped up at the name, looking horrified as his eyes landed directly on the newcomer.

“This is Eddie,” Dan continued his introductions, completely unaware of the sudden tension in the air. “My best bartender—though if you let slip to Brenda I said that I’ll deny everything. And this is—

Danny smiled, flashing a set of perfectly straight white teeth. “Lifeguard Steve.” 

Eddie hated him.

“Oh! I see you two already know each other.” Dan chuckled, giving a little shake of his head. “Well, that’s a small town for ya! Anyway, I gotta go check on a few things so I'll leave you three to chat.” 

Eddie watched the man walk away, wondering if it would be weird to ask him to stay, and when he turned back found that Steve wasn’t looking at Danny anymore, his wide worried eyes were now trained squarely on Eddie's face, hand tensing under his hold.

And whatever feelings of jealousy Eddie might have felt were gone in an instant, replaced with the need to prove to Steve, as well as himself, that he could handle this without doing any number of stupid things to ruin what they had.

He squeezed Steve's hand once firmly before letting go, leaning out to offer it to Danny, who took it with a raised eyebrow. 

“Good to meet you, your dad tells me nothing but good things,” Eddie said, keeping his voice calm and even as they shook.

Danny tilted his head. “Ditto.” 

Eddie cleared his throat, resisting the urge to wipe his hand on his pants when they separated. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Sure. Just a coke though, I’m driving tonight.” 

As he poured the soda Eddie could feel the man’s heavy gaze lingering on his face, scrutinizing him. He set the full cup down but Danny didn’t take it, instead resting his chin in his hand as he looked thoughtfully between the two of them.

Eddie topped off his tequila, and braced himself.

“So, Steve,” Danny said, addressing Steve directly for the first time. “Is this the guy?”

Steve's face, which had already been flushed and radiating discomfort, burned a bright cherry red at the question, but he didn’t shy away. He shot off a soft shy smile at Eddie as he answered. “Yeah.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open, and he nearly dropped the glass he was holding. “You told him about me?!”

“Good,” Danny said, ignoring Eddie’s outburst, holding back a laugh as he finally took a sip of his coke. “I’m really happy for you, Steve.” 

It sounded sincere enough that Eddie might have relaxed, but then the man’s gaze was swinging his way. 

“And you—I hope you know how lucky you are.”

Eddie swallowed hard, nodding absently, too stunned and confused to form any kind of verbal response.

“Well,” Danny stood abruptly, leaving his barely touched soda to sweat on the lacquered wood top. “It was nice to finally meet you, Eddie, but I think I'll get out of your hair. I should probably go see if my dad needs help with anything anyway. And it was good to see you again, Steve. I’m glad things worked out.” 

There was a beat of tense silence between them as Danny left, but as soon as he was out of earshot, Steve was falling all over himself to apologize.

“Oh my god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I had no idea he was–” 

Eddie couldn’t help cutting him off, saying again, “You told him about me? On your date?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you! I… Eddie, you have to know. You have to know the only reason I even agreed to the date with him was to get over you, and he could tell I was distracted.”

“Oh.”

“I know we never really talked about that night, um–”

Eddie reached out, once again covering Steve’s hand with his own. “Listen, baby, I'm not upset at you, okay? I’m not gonna freak out, or run away again, or any of that, I promise you. But I don’t think I need to hear the details.”

“No, Eddie. It’s not—” Steve shook his head. “That's what I'm trying to tell you. Nothing happened. Well, um, very little happened.” 

“It’s fine, Steve. I was being an idiot then, and we weren’t—us. Whatever you did before we were together is none of my business.”

“But I couldn’t do it!” Steve blurted out.

“What?”

“We were—” Steve dropped his voice down so low that Eddie had to lean in close. “We were about to, and—”

“No, stop. I don't need to hear–” Eddie pulled back suddenly, waving his hands, only to immediately lean right back in, his chin practically resting on the bar, eyes level with Steve’s. “Okay, no. I mean, yes—no. Fine! Just tell me. It can’t be worse than whatever I'm imagining.”

“Oh my god, '' Steve groaned, burying his head in his hands for a second before looking up again, peeking at Eddie between the gaps of his fingers. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but he was two fingers deep in my ass and all I could think about was how much I wanted it to be you. So I told him I needed to stop.”

“Baby,” Eddie breathed. So many emotions coloring the single word.

It was so—sweet. And yes, admittedly, relieving in a way, though he’d had no claim to Steve at the time. 

Okay, so Eddie was a fucking caveman, a jealous animal—so sue him! 

But somehow, above all the rest, it was so incredibly fucking hot to learn that his baby, his needy boy had wanted him—and only him—so badly that he’d stopped practically mid-fuck with someone else.

Eddie’s breath picked up, and he knew his eyes had gone dark and heavy lidded, his hands balled into fists so tight his knuckles were turning white.

“Fuck,” Steve cursed, drawn out and breathy, his tongue darting out to lick across his bottom lip, leaving it wet and shining in the party lights. “Eddie, you can’t look at me like that, not when there’s hours till we’ll be home where we can do something about it.” 

Eddie’s eyes remained fixed on Steve as he shouted from the corner of his mouth to his coworker. “Hey Dawn, I’m gonna step out for a smoke, you good?”

He wasn’t even technically on the clock right now, they could manage without him for a while. 

“Yep!” The girl replied without even turning around.

Eddie untied his apron, only breaking eye contact to duck under the bar. He took Steve’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he pulled him along towards the kitchen.  

“Where are we going?” Steve whisper-shouted from behind, barely audible over the music.

Eddie stopped just short of the swinging double doors, pulling Steve in by a belt loop to speak in his ear. “Somewhere we can do something about it.”

This late into the evening the kitchen was closed and empty of staff. The big overhead fluorescents had been shut off and every surface scrubbed to within an inch of its life, clean and gleaming in the soft glow of the emergency lights and the red exit sign on the back door.

Eddie continued to lead the way, past the prep tables and behind the line, all the way to the very back and through a heavy insulated door. 

He tried to feel bad about how unhygienic it was to do what he hoped they were about to do in here, but in his defense the food was all wrapped up or in air-tight secure containers. Also bleach existed, and Eddie was more than happy to clean up after himself.

Besides, It wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen in a restaurant walk-in.

It was a frenzy from the moment the door banged shut behind them. Eddie twisted his hand into the front of Steve’s shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. Their mouths connected, all tongues and teeth and hot steamy breath mingling in the frigid air. Steve’s fingers pushed into Eddie's curls, scratching at his scalp, tugging at the root, while Eddie's hands found their way to that slutty little bare strip of tummy that his boyfriend had insisted on teasing him with tonight, gripping hard on either side of Steve’s waist as he moved them further in towards the rear of the walk-in.

Steve hissed as his back hit the chilled metal of the wall, his skin breaking out in goosebumps under palms hands.

“Sorry, baby,” Eddie cooed in sympathy, grinding his own hardness against Steve’s as he nipped at his lower lip. “It was this or the bathroom, and I didn’t particularly want an audience.”

Steve pushed off the wall, grinning as he grabbed Eddie hard by the shoulders to spin them around, switching their positions and pressing him into the wall instead. 

Eddie went willingly, delighted as Steve unknowingly played right into the dynamic he was hoping for tonight, and waited for Steve’s lips to find his again, even reached out to pull the other man in again, but Steve slipped from his grip to drop straight to the floor, a desperate and hungry look in his eyes.

With well practiced fingers Steve quickly undid Eddie's jeans, yanking them down to his thighs so roughly he might have stumbled without the wall to lean against. He had a second to feel the cold air hit his most sensitive bits of bare skin before Steve swallowed him down, taking him right to the back of his throat. 

Eddie could do nothing but moan, letting his head fall back against the wall for a breath, waiting for his brain to catch up with the rest of him, so lost in the sensation of Steve's mouth, scorching where it engulfed him, that he almost forgot his surprise. 

Winding one hand through Steve's hair in encouragement, Eddie used the other to take Steve’s hand from where it rested on his thigh to guide it around to his ass. Steve only hesitated for a moment before kneading at the soft plump flesh, still bobbing his head up and down the length of Eddie’s cock, but faltered and froze as his fingers bumped up against the base of the silicone plug that had been nestled in Eddie’s hole for the last several hours.

Steve pulled off with a soft gasp, letting the tip of Eddie's cock rest on his tongue as he looked up, watching Eddie’s face with something like awe as he pushed on the plug. 

From the tips of his toes to the top of his head Eddie felt his entire body flush with a new heat, it prickled along his neck and chest, and he had to fight to keep his eyes on Steve and not let them fall shut at the sudden intensity of his need.

“Where did you get this?” Steve asked, sounding wrecked in a way that Eddie suspected had less to do with the brief blowjob, and more to do with his little stunt.

Eddie whined as Steve tugged on the toy, pulling it out about an inch before pushing it back in again, punching the air from his lungs. 

“Would you believe there’s a little mom and pop sex shop not far from here?” Eddie forced out between panted breaths.

Steve hummed, grazing his lips over the skin of Eddie’s inner thigh as he released the plug, leaving it in place for now. “I guess this town really does have it all.”

Eddie chuckled softly and reached down to pull Steve to his feet, cupping his cheek as he pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. 

“Fuck me?” He asked, fluttering his eyelashes.

Steve made a pained noise, tucking his face into Eddie’s neck, peppering kisses along the underside of his jaw. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, fuck—want it.” Eddie tilted his head back to give Steve better access to his throat. “Been thinking about you bending me over—dreaming about it.”

The words were barely out of Eddie’s mouth before Steve was growling, gripping him up again and moving him—manhandling him in a way he never had before as he gave Eddie exactly what he wanted—bending him over a low, blessedly empty shelving unit.

Steve pushed at Eddie’s shirt, dragging it roughly up and over his head before tossing it to the floor somewhere behind them. He leaned over Eddie’s back, pressing kiss after kiss down the entire length of his spine, pausing at the base of it, resting those big hands on Eddie’s ass again, spreading him wide and taking hold of the plug to gently pull it out, placing it on another nearby shelf.

Eddie swallowed back a whimper, his body clenching around nothing, suddenly empty after so many hours of being filled, but he knew what was coming would be even better, and the sound of Steve’s zipper coming undone only made him clench harder. 

Eddie flushed again, another rush of warmth as beads of sweat beginning to form on his brow in anticipation. There was a brush of rough denim against the back of his thigh, and then velvet heat as Steve pressed in close, rubbing his hard length between Eddie’s cheeks, teasing over his hole.

“Condom?” Steve asked, sounding like it was a struggle just to get the word out.

They hadn’t been using them at all since both their test results had come back clear. And Eddie could appreciate Steve wanting to make the cleanup easier on him since they were out in public for the night, but it couldn’t have been further from what he wanted.

“No,” Eddie pressed himself back, his body shuddering as the tip of Steve's cock caught on his rim. “No, wanna feel it when you come inside me for the first time.”

“Fuck, okay.” Steve sucked air in harshly through his teeth. “Lube?” 

“In my back right pocket.” 

Eddie glanced back over his shoulder just in time to see Steve raise the packet to his mouth, tearing it with his teeth before pouring it over himself. Some of the cool wetness dripped down onto Eddie as well, and Steve spread it around with two fingers, pushing just the tip of one inside at first. When he was met with no resistance Steve plunged them both in at once, reaching and curling until he found that sweet spot inside Eddie that sent his eyes rolling back, and had him writhing and bucking his hips against the hard metal of the shelf. 

“Please, Steve, I’m ready,” Eddie begged. 

Mercifully, Steve didn’t make him ask twice, easing his fingers free before lining himself up, and inch by gentle inch began to push his way inside.

It felt like an eternity before Steve finally bottomed out, and Eddie wanted to cry with how good it felt to be full, really full, for the first time in he didn’t even know how long. It wasn’t something he let himself have very often. He really did prefer to top as a rule, but sometimes—sometimes he just needed it, wanted it, and tonight he also wanted to give Steve the last part of himself that he’d been holding back. 

With shallow careful thrusts Steve began to move, draping himself over Eddie’s back, pressing lips to whatever swaths of skin he could reach. 

Tears streamed from the corners of Eddie’s eyes, overcome with the feeling of being had in this new way by someone he loved, who loved him back. It felt incredible but he soon needed more. Eddie tried to rock back on instinct, but found Steve hands already on his hips, stilling him before he could move an inch.

“Steve,” Eddie whined.

Steve shushed him, rubbing small soothing circles into Eddie’s lower back with his thumbs. “You always make me feel so good, just let me return the favor.”

“I thought you were cold?” Eddie grunted, trying again to fuck himself back on Steve’s length, but the other man’s grip was like a vice.

“Not anymore,” Steve said, and Eddie could practically hear the smirk in his voice, though he did sink a little deeper, still keeping his pace frustratingly slow and even, like he was trying to drive Eddie insane. “Seeing you fall apart like this? We could be standing in the middle of a snowstorm right now and I'd still be sweating.”

And oh he’d definitely be paying Steve back for this later.  

“Baby, please,” Eddie whined again, a high-pitched, desperate sound he could hardly believe had come from his own mouth.

“How soundproof do you think this thing is?” Steve asked.

“How should I fucking know?!” Eddie growled in frustration. “Why?!”

Without warning Steve snapped his hips, slamming into him so hard that for a second Eddie couldn’t even make a sound. He threw his head back, mouth wide open in a silent scream of pleasure—followed by an actual scream. Steve surged forward, slapping a hand over Eddie’s mouth, pulling his head back to hiss into his ear, hot breath ghosting over Eddie’s skin as he rammed into him again and again, hard enough to shake the shelving unit that was bolted to the floor. 

“No reason.” 

There was nothing slow or gentle about Steve after that.

For a while Eddie lost himself to the pounding rhythm and the loud slapping of flesh as Steve fucked into him impossibly harder and faster. 

He’d never last at this rate, it was just too fucking good, and he wasn’t alone. Before long Steve was reaching for him, stroking Eddie’s cock as his own breaths became ragged and he began to lose his rhythm.

With one last powerful thrust Steve came, cock pulsing violently as he buried himself deep inside, and Eddie’s last coherent thought as he followed him over that edge, losing control as he felt himself being filled up with Steve’s release, was that they really ought to switch things up more often.

Steve laid across Eddie’s back for a long minute as they both came down and caught their breath, neither really wanting to move at all, but inevitably Steve grew soft and slipped out, leaving a trickle of cum slowly leaking from Eddie’s hole in his wake.

“Eds, honey, do you have your bandana or anything on you?” Steve asked softly.

Eddie looked back, biting his lip, suddenly shy about what he wanted as the afterglow began to fade. “No, uh, but I was hoping you would plug me back up instead?”

“Jesus, Eddie. Yeah—yeah, okay,” Steve stuttered, his dick giving a valiant twitch against Eddie’s leg. 

Eddie was loose enough, and slick enough with the combined mess of cooling fluids that the plug sank home easily, and he was grateful he’d worn black jeans tonight to help mask any residual mess. 

When their pants were back in place and he’d retrieved Eddie’s shirt from the floor, Steve took him in his arms and lowered them both to the floor, cradling Eddie in his lap as he kissed his forehead.

Eddie knew the rest of the summer would go by in a flash. 

Before long the season would be over, tourism would slow as vacationers traveled home for the year, and the beaches would start to empty. 

The new school year would begin.

Though they hadn’t talked about it, Eddie had seen the note on their dresser. He knew Steve’s final interview was in two short days, and he’d be expecting an answer soon. 

And for once, the idea of it didn’t fill Eddie with panic.

He'd done his thinking. 

He’d weighed the risks and pondered the worries, done the calculations in his head and realized there had only ever been one answer to this equation. 

For now he let himself bask in the moment, so safe and comfortable in the circle of Steve’s arms, the brush of soft lips pressed to his brow.

He knew what he wanted—had known it all along.

Now he just had to find the perfect way to tell Steve.

Chapter 12

All my thanks and love to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend, and cheerleader.

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[todaysdocument]

Happy Constitution Day! 

Can’t make it to the National Archives Building in person? Check out the hi-res scans in our catalog:

Record Group 11: General Records of the United States Government Series: The Constitution of the United States

Image description: Zoomed-in portion of the first page of the U.S. Constitution, including the words “We the People.” 

Transcription: 

We the People of the United States in order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

Article. I.

Section.1. All Legislative Powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress of the United States, which shall consist of a Senate and House of Representatives.

Section.2. The House of Representatives shall be composed of Members chosen every second year by the People of the several States, and the Electors in each State shall have the Qualifications requisite for Electors of the most numerous Branch of the State Legislature.

No Person shall be a Representative who shall not have attained the Age of twenty-five Years, and been seven Years a Citizen of the United States, and who shall not, when elected, be an Inhabitant of that State in which he shall be chosen.

Representatives and direct Taxes shall be apportioned among the several States which may be included within this Union, according to their respective Numbers, which shall be determined by adding to the whole Number of free Persons, including those bound to Service for a Term of Years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three fifths of all other Persons. The actual Enumeration shall be be made within three Years after the first Meeting of the Congress of the United States, and within every subsequent Term of ten Years, in such Manner as they shall by Law direct. The Number of Representatives shall not exceed one for every thirty Thousand, but each State shall have at Least one Representative; and until such enumeration shall be made, the State of New Hampshire shall be entitled to chuse three, Massachusetts eight, Rhode-Island and Providence Plantations one, Connecticut five, New-York six, New Jersey four, Pennsylvania eight, Delaware one, Maryland six, Virginia ten, North Carolina five, South Carolina five, and Georgia three.

When vacancies happen in the Representation from any State, the Executive Authority thereof shall issue Writs of Election to fill such Vacancies.

The House of Representatives shall chuse their Speaker and other Officers; and shall have the sole Power of Impeachment.

Section.3. The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each State, chosen by the Legislature thereof, for six Years; and each Senator shall have one Vote.

Immediately after they shall be assembled in Consequence of the first Election, they shall be divided as equally as may be into three Classes. The Seats of the Senators of the first Class shall be vacated at the Expiration of the second Year, of the second Class at the Expiration of the fourth Year, and of the third Class at the Expiration of the sixth Year, so that one third may be chosen every second Year; and if Vacancies happen by Resignation, or otherwise, during the Recess of the Legislature of any State, the Executive thereof may make temporary Appointments until the next Meeting of the Legislature, which shall then fill such Vacancies.

No Person shall be a Senator who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty Years, and been nine Years a Citizen of the United States, and who shall not, when elected, be an Inhabitant of that State for which he shall be chosen.

The Vice President of the United States shall be President of the Senate, but shall have no Vote, unless they be equally divided.

The Senate shall chuse their other Officers, and also a President pro tempore, in the Absence of the Vice President, or when he shall exercise the Office of President of the United States.

The Senate shall have the sole Power to try all Impeachments. When sitting for that Purpose, they shall be on Oath or Affirmation. When the President of the United States is tried, the Chief Justice shall preside: And no Person shall be convicted without the Concurrence of two thirds of the Members present.

Judgment in Cases of Impeachment shall not extend further than to removal from Office, and disqualification to hold and enjoy any Office of honor, Trust or Profit under the United States: but the Party convicted shall nevertheless be liable and subject to Indictment, Trial, Judgment and Punishment, according to Law.

Section.4. The Times, Places and Manner of holding Elections for Senators and Representatives, shall be prescribed in each State by the Legislature thereof; but the Congress may at any time by Law make or alter such Regulations, except as to the Places of chusing Senators.

The Congress shall assemble at least once in every Year, and such Meeting shall be on the first Monday in December, unless they shall by Law appoint a different Day.

Section.5. Each House shall be the Judge of the Elections, Returns and Qualifications of its own Members, and a Majority of each shall constitute a Quorum to do Business; but a smaller Number may adjourn from day to day, and maybe authorized to compel the Attendance of absent Members, in such Manner, and under such Penalties as each House may provide.

Each House may determine the Rules of its Proceedings, punish its Members for disorderly Behaviour, and, with the Concurrence of two thirds, expel a Member.

Each House shall keep a Journal of its Proceedings, and from time to time publish the same, excepting such Parts as may in their Judgment require Secrecy; and the Yeas and Nays of the Members of either House on any question shall, at the Desire of one-fifth of those Present, be entered on the Journal.

Neither House, during the Session of Congress, shall, without the Consent of the other, adjourn for more than three days, nor to any other Place than that in which the two Houses shall be sitting.

Section.6. The Senators and Representatives shall receive a Compensation for their Services, to be ascertained by Law, and paid out of the Treasury of the United States. They shall in all Cases, except Treason, Felony and Breach of the Peace, be privileged from Arrest during their Attendance at the Session of their respective Houses, and in going to and returning from the same; and for any Speech or Debate in either House, they shall not be questioned in any other Place.

No Senator or Representative shall, during the Time for which he was elected, be appointed to any civil Office under the Authority of the United States, which shall have been created, or the Emoluments whereof shall have been increased during such time; and no Person holding any Office under the United States, shall be a Member of either House during his Continuance in Office.

Section.7. All Bills for raising Revenue shall originate in the House of Representatives; but the Senate may propose or concur with Amendments as on other Bills.

Every Bill which shall have passed the House of Representatives and the Senate, shall, before it becomes a Law, be presented to the President of the

[bettyfrommars]

E3, !, ♥️

I’m so excited, I love your writing!! I’ve literally never done an ask before, hope I’m doing it right.

hi friend! I wanted to make sure I did this one in honor of it being your first!

So for some reason, your heart showed up as white on my desktop, so I gave you the wrong “thing” lmao

Your Person is Dark Siren Eddie

your Place is a Motel

your Thing is a Guitar

pick your poison

18+ONLY, being on the run, fear of the unknown, star-crossed lovers, getting help from Murray and Hopper.

word count: 1k

The neon of the motel sign blinked "vacancy" in green while the M and the O fluttered a faded red, buzzing in the dark. Surrounded by Oregon wilderness, the place was tucked away in the mountains near an abandoned ski lodge. There were stains on the mattress, a television from the 60's with rabbit ear antenna, and nicotine baked yellow into the once white walls.

You'd been on the run for a month at that point. A government research team was tipped off to Eddie's existence, and he refused to go back to his home in the sea without you.

"You can't stay here," you'd blinked away tears that first night, struggling to form words around your sobs. He held your face with webbed fingers, watching your mouth. "If they catch you, they'll hurt you, Eddie. I can't let that happen."

The nictitating lens of his eyelid blinked over brown gold irises as he examined you. He smoothed a thumb across your cheek, neck gills shuddering as if hit by a breeze.

"Won't go," he murmured. "Stay with you."

The following kiss was urgent, it made more tears roll down your cheeks, messy and hot, tasting salty on your tongue. He made soft noises as the kiss deepened, aching to be inside you again.

The Evergreen Motel was one of many places you'd slept in the past few weeks, moving in shadows, trying to stay under the radar from those who hunted him. You'd even huddled in an old barn once, and under a bridge. You had money, that wasn't the problem, but you didn't want to risk Eddie being identified.

The people trying to track him down to put him in a lab and make him a government experiment, found out about the man he'd killed on the beach that first day, and they used the incident to facilitate their agenda. They lied and said that he'd attacked several people unprovoked, and that he was a danger to society.

"He's a freak of nature!" An older woman who'd claimed to be a witness shared her story with the media. "I saw him crawl up out of the sea, and I swear to god his eyes were glowing. I knew he wanted to kill me!"

If Eddie couldn't have contact with sea water after a few days, he got terribly sick, and so sneaking into the ocean or soaking in salt bath had become a necessity on your travels. Unfortunately, on that one particular early morning, he'd been spotted by a woman walking her dog.

Back in the room, Eddie turned the knob on the TV so that the news broadcast went away, and the screen snapped to black. He could tell it was upsetting you.

The shark tooth earring he'd worn since you first met was dangling from your ear now, since he'd given it to you as a gift. You fell against his chest and let him hold you, listening to him hum the words to a song from his world.

Both of you jumped at the abrupt ringing sound, jerking around in tandem to stare at the blinking light on the beige phone on the nightstand. A second ring was shrill and unrelenting, worrying at your heart like the click of a gun trigger.

You took a breath, collecting yourself before yanking up the receiver.

At the other end, Murray spoke before you had time to greet him.

"I told you not to answer the phone," he scolded. Flushed with relief to know it was him, you flashed a reassuring smile at Eddie.

"But how do I know if it's---"

"We went over this. If it's me calling, I'll let it ring three times, hang up, and then let it ring once more, and then you call me back. How hard is that?"

Hopper and Murray had been risking their own lives to keep you both safe and out of the public eye while on the run. You were afraid to think what would've happened if they hadn't chosen to get involved.

"Did anyone see you check in?" He was rustling papers in the background as he spoke.

"Just the older man at the front desk. But he didn't see Eddie, I don't think."

"You don't think?"

"Eddie was outside with the hood of his sweatshirt up," you sat down on the edge of the bed, wanting to make sure he had all of the information. "There was only one other car in the parking lot. A white Ford pickup. Nevada plates."

"Is the front door locked and bolted? Okay now I need you to look under the bed," Murray continued.

Knowing not to ask questions, you did as he said, kneeling on the stained carpet to lift up the floral dust ruffle. There was popcorn kernels and a sock and a used condom wrapper and...

"Why is there a guitar case under here, Murray?"

"Just pull it out, I don't have time for this."

The case was matte black and scuffed from use. You put it on the bed, and then Eddie came over to stand beside you, cocking his head curiously. After flipping open the tabs to look inside, you found a tan, acoustic guitar with pearl inlay on the fret board. There were also two stacks of cash and some directions in an envelope.

"Those are directions to the hideout. It's a cabin in the woods, stocked with enough food and supplies for a couple weeks. The last few miles will be on foot. You'll stay there until Jim comes to get you, do you understand?"

You nodded silently at first, but then finally spoke the word Yes out loud, swallowing thickly.

"Cut your credit cards up, you can't use them anymore. It's cash only from here on out."

You listened, taking Eddie's hand.

"There's a phone number in there for a woman near the Canadian border who will make your passports. Her name is Rachel, I told her to expect you."

"What about you Murray?" Your voice trembled. "What if they find out that you---"

"Don't worry about me," he said quickly. "You kids just stay safe, and for fuck's sake don't answer the phone again unless you know it's me. Got it?"

You nodded, unable to stop a tear from pooling at your lash line. "Okay, I promise. Thank you, I don't know what we'd do without y---"

But he was gone.

[raccoonfallsharder]

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip. part four. south dakota.

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip masterlist prev | next | main masterlist

angst, comfort, friendship, & fluff for @hibatasblog rocket & wanda | part 4/7 | word count: 1864.

rocket and wanda get in a fight.

During a watch party for Avengers: Endgame on Twitter, Markus revealed the idea to team Wanda with the Guardian of the Galaxy captain actually made it into several versions of the film's script. "We had whole drafts with Wanda on a road trip with Rocket," Markus wrote, "but after the Vision plot in Infinity War, nothing we came up with was anything but wheel spinning for her character." CBR

They don’t stop until Rapid City. Wanda looks like she might actually be ready for a nap — her firestorm-eyes somehow blunted by exhaustion — and Rocket himself could go for a few drinks, which is apparently not a thing you’re allowed to do if you’re in a moving vehicle in this corner of Terra. 

Stupid, he’d scoffed at the witch. M’not even the one working the frickin’ pod.

Car, she’d corrected mildly, and she still hadn’t let him have a drink. He’d thought about swiping some booze at one of the so-called rest-stops, but then he’d felt all twisted-up inside about sneaking a drink when it was clearly something she didn’t want him to do. In some ways, she reminds him of Gamora — too serious, carrying way too much for her skinny baldbody shoulders — and the thought of fucking around with her rules when she’s got so few of ‘em just makes him feel small and low.

Sometimes he misses the days when screwing with someone brought him twisted shreds of meanspirited joy. 

Time to be the captain, he thinks bitterly.

By the time they find a hotel with a vacancy that doesn’t look like a shithole — not that he minds shitholes, of course, they kinda feel like home to him; but Wanda’s muttering something about bedbugs and reminding him that Natasha’s paying  — well, by then, he’s a little worried he’s not gonna get a drink after all. There doesn’t seem to be a bar within reasonable walking distance — not that he can see. But when they check in, he can see from the corner of his eye that there’s a bar attached right to the frickin’ lobby, and he thinks maybe Terra doesn’t completely suck after all.

The witch is so exhausted that it actually doesn’t take long for her to drift off this time — at least, not by his standards. He can hear her heartbeat suddenly thumping her awake every few minutes for the first half-hour or so — but eventually, her stifled breaths of wakefulness spread out and smooth over. 

It’s not that he’s trying to sneak out. He hasn’t done that since — well, since Pete was around, and that was mostly just to fuck with an easily-annoyed Star-Lord. Really — and Rocket would never admit it if asked — he’s pretty sure that, like himself, the witch finds it easier to sleep when she’s not alone. 

So he putters around, quietly working on a series of tiny linked infrasonic mines made from some scraps he’d squirreled out of Nat’s sound system and a pocketful of things called earbuds he’d swiped at one of the fancier rest-stops. Once he’s sure Wanda’s asleep, he scrawls a note for her — hoping he’s remembering the written Terran language Pete had insisted on trying to teach the Guardians before everything went to hell. Rocket had picked up a fair amount of it, even if he’d pretended disinterest. 

He wishes he hadn’t been such a frickin’ dickhead about it.

witch -  goin to lobby bar. see you in mornin. r

He snags one of the access cards out of the flimsy paper envelope that the front desk had issued them, and carefully eases the door shut behind him. Currently, the plan is to let the poor witch sleep, and to get so wasted while she does it. He’s been sober for cycles now, and he frickin’ deserves it.

Down the hall he goes, whistling a jaunty tune, tail swinging casually behind him. On the way past the ice machine, the door of another room opens. Some baldbody woman looks out, then drops her eyes to his. She blinks, goes white, and closes the door right back up again. He shrugs — weird — and hops in the elevator. He ain’t a fan of the little crack between the floor of the hotel and the little metal box, dropping down countless stories to the basement below. Don’t Terrans know how to make any safe tech? He tries not to think about being in a deathtrap while he hits the button labeled G, which Wanda had explained was for ground floor. 

On four, the elevator pauses and a man nearly steps in before noticing Rocket. The interim captain of the Guardians of the Galaxy offers a friendly, nonthreatening mock salute. 

“Hey, guy.”

The man goes white, and steps back out of the elevator, suddenly gripping his messenger bag in front of his belly. Rocket frowns as the doors slide shut.

Terrans are so frickin’ weird, he thinks again.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open, and Rocket grins at the sight of the bar, with all its glass bottles reflecting molasses-brown shadows and amber light.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he murmurs, and strolls across the tiled floor and through the little entryway. The bar is nearly empty — perfect for penance-drinking. He leaps delicately onto a stool at the bar. “I’ll take the hardest thing you’ve got,” he tells the bartender — a slender humie with thick, darksilver hair. The man blinks at him, eyes growing wide and face turning to ash. “The whole bottle,” the captain clarifies, suddenly recalling that Terran humies tend to distill some of the weakest liquors in the galaxy.

“I — I don’t think I can do that,” the Terran says thinly. His eyes flicker over Rocket, ears to tailtip.

Rocket’s brow pleats. “Huh? Why not?”

“Uh,” the bartender says, eyes siding nervously to one side, “we don’t serve… pets at the bar…”

It takes a minute for Rocket to be sure he’s understood correctly. His lip peels back from his teeth and he catches himself at the start of a seething hiss when the man shrinks back.  

Terrans are just morons, Rocket reminds himself. You’re s’posed to be the captain now. Of the Guardians of the frickin’ Galaxy. A good guy. 

Hang onto your frickin’ temper.

“Dude,” he manages to grind out between sharp teeth. “I ain’t a frickin’ pet.” 

“Wild animal, then,” the bartender mumbles, eyes nearly as big as Mantis’ had been, but much less kind. It sends a spear of leaden regret right through the fucked-up, half-shredded muscle of Rocket’s heart. 

That chick with the antennae, he’d called her. Why’s he always gotta be such a dickhead?

For once, he tries not to turn that pain outward, even though it’s always so much easier. Still, he can’t help but feel his fists curl and his ears flick back, flattening against his skull. “How many wild animals do you know that talk?” he asks the humie behind the bar, trying to be reasonable. “I’m a frickin’ Guardian of the Galaxy. An honorary Avenger or whatever. I fought Thanos for you assholes.”

I lost my whole family for you.

The bartender begins backing away, palms raised in surrender. “Look, I don’t know anything about you being an Avenger, but if you’re not a service animal, I don’t think you can even be in the bar—“

Rocket feels his eyes go round and his spit go sour. The fur on his back and neck and arms splays wide, and his tail puffs to twice its normal size. “A. What?”

The bartender looks like he’s going to cry. “I don’t know, man! For all I know, you could be rabid—“

“I ain’t rabid,” Rocket snarls, rising to his feet on his barstool. “I get my frickin’ shots—“

“—and we don’t serve raccoons!”

His jaw clicks shut. The sharp electric-shock of the word burns every nerve and short-circuits his brain, and all he can think is how much he’d give up for Pete to call him that shit-name again.

“What’d you call me?” 

He launches himself over the bar and lands on the mirrored shelf behind it, spraying bottles across the narrow space while the Terran shrieks and cowers. Glass and booze explode against the tile while Rocket spins and hooks his hands into claws, ready to rend. 

“I’m gonna frickin’—“

He’s springing through the amber and blue shadows when strands of light, as glowing-crimson as his own warning-beacon eyes, loop around his waist and tug him back, suspending him in midair. He tears at the gossamer-fine threads, but they slip through his fingers like mist.

“Rocket.”

He bares his teeth and glares upward. 

The witch. 

She strides across the lobby, smudged and tired, her red-star eyes spiraling and spilling molten fire. Her hair’s all tangled from whatever brief sleep she’d gotten, and her face looks white and pinched and pained. She must’ve woken, some part of him notices — smothered under the heat of his fury, his lashing tail and kicking legs. She must’ve woken, and noticed he was gone, and seen his note.

She looks concerned.

The front desk staff flinches away from where they’d been watching the scene unfold in the bar.

“Rocket,” she says gently. “Stop.”

“I will, sweetheart,” Rocket promises earnestly, still twisting and tearing at her threads of power. “Swear I will. Just lemme take care of this one jackass first—“

“No,” she says, stepping up next to wear he’s suspended, her face just a few inches from his. Her magic pulls him gently over the bar, closer to herself. “He’s not worth it.” She looks around the lobby, and some distant part of Rocket wonders how such a volcanic stare can suddenly look so utterly cold and remote. Is his own eyeshine is picking up the reflection of her light and throwing it back at her? He can picture it: four firestorm-eyes lighting up the entire hotel lobby. 

“Nothing in this place is,” she adds icily, and the ends of her hair begin to flicker and float in a wind he can’t feel.  His instincts suddenly shudder and go still: the freeze element of a classic flight-or-fight reaction. Something deep under his fur acknowledges the pure threat of her. The witch’s voice is dark, and crackling with raw red lightning. Something at the base of his spine recognizes it as the most dangerous sound he’s ever heard, and his ears flatten in alarm, puffed tail suddenly tucking in against his inner calf.  The silk strands of magic lower Rocket gently until his feet rest on the surface of the bar, but they don’t release him — not yet. Never mind that he’s not fighting anymore.

“You are a fool,” she tells the bartender, turning her molten eyes toward the baldbody still cowering behind the bar. She lifts a hand to point at Rocket. “This person is more than just an Avenger. He has saved the entire galaxy — a number of times. In all likelihood, he has saved you. Personally.” Her eyes skim the weeping bartender disdainfully, then flick dismissively over the front desk staff and the two other patrons Rocket hadn’t even noticed, hiding near a potted tree that reminds him too much of a young Groot. 

“He’s no animal,” she tells them in that terrifying, midnight-voice. Honestly, Rocket wouldn’t blame any of them if they’d wet themselves. His own bladder suddenly wants to let go and it’s only his superior frickin’ aversion to embarrassment that keeps his body under control. 

“He deserves your deepest respect, and your deepest gratitude,” she tells them. Her eyes, still haloed in red radiance, hold onto the bartender.

“Now pour him a drink.”

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip masterlist prev | next | main masterlist

[ask-tord69]

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

Article. I.

Section. 1.

All legislative Powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress of the United States, which shall consist of a Senate and House of Representatives.

Section. 2.

The House of Representatives shall be composed of Members chosen every second Year by the People of the several States, and the Electors in each State shall have the Qualifications requisite for Electors of the most numerous Branch of the State Legislature.

No Person shall be a Representative who shall not have attained to the Age of twenty five Years, and been seven Years a Citizen of the United States, and who shall not, when elected, be an Inhabitant of that State in which he shall be chosen.

Representatives and direct Taxes shall be apportioned among the several States which may be included within this Union, according to their respective Numbers, which shall be determined by adding to the whole Number of free Persons, including those bound to Service for a Term of Years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three fifths of all other Persons. The actual Enumeration shall be made within three Years after the first Meeting of the Congress of the United States, and within every subsequent Term of ten Years, in such Manner as they shall by Law direct. The Number of Representatives shall not exceed one for every thirty Thousand, but each State shall have at Least one Representative; and until such enumeration shall be made, the State of New Hampshire shall be entitled to chuse three, Massachusetts eight, Rhode-Island and Providence Plantations one, Connecticut five, New-York six, New Jersey four, Pennsylvania eight, Delaware one, Maryland six, Virginia ten, North Carolina five, South Carolina five, and Georgia three.

When vacancies happen in the Representation from any State, the Executive Authority thereof shall issue Writs of Election to fill such Vacancies.

The House of Representatives shall chuse their Speaker and other Officers; and shall have the sole Power of Impeachment.

Section. 3.

The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each State, chosen by the Legislature thereof, for six Years; and each Senator shall have one Vote.

Immediately after they shall be assembled in Consequence of the first Election, they shall be divided as equally as may be into three Classes. The Seats of the Senators of the first Class shall be vacated at the Expiration of the second Year, of the second Class at the Expiration of the fourth Year, and of the third Class at the Expiration of the sixth Year, so that one third may be chosen every second Year; and if Vacancies happen by Resignation, or otherwise, during the Recess of the Legislature of any State, the Executive thereof may make temporary Appointments until the next Meeting of the Legislature, which shall then fill such Vacancies.

No Person shall be a Senator who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty Years, and been nine Years a Citizen of the United States, and who shall not, when elected, be an Inhabitant of that State for which he shall be chosen.

The Vice President of the United States shall be President of the Senate, but shall have no Vote, unless they be equally divided.

The Senate shall chuse their other Officers, and also a President pro tempore, in the Absence of the Vice President, or when he shall exercise the Office of President of the United States.

The Senate shall have the sole Power to try all Impeachments. When sitting for that Purpose, they shall be on Oath or Affirmation. When the President of the United States is tried, the Chief Justice shall preside: And no Person shall be convicted without the Concurrence of two thirds of the Members present.

Judgment in Cases of Impeachment shall not extend further than to removal from Office, and disqualification to hold and enjoy any Office of honor, Trust or Profit under the United States: but the Party convicted shall nevertheless be liable and subject to Indictment, Trial, Judgment and Punishment, according to Law.

Section. 4.

The Times, Places and Manner of holding Elections for Senators and Representatives, shall be prescribed in each State by the Legislature thereof; but the Congress may at any time by Law make or alter such Regulations, except as to the Places of chusing Senators.

The Congress shall assemble at least once in every Year, and such Meeting shall be on the first Monday in December, unless they shall by Law appoint a different Day.

Section. 5.

Each House shall be the Judge of the Elections, Returns and Qualifications of its own Members, and a Majority of each shall constitute a Quorum to do Business; but a smaller Number may adjourn from day to day, and may be authorized to compel the Attendance of absent Members, in such Manner, and under such Penalties as each House may provide.

Each House may determine the Rules of its Proceedings, punish its Members for disorderly Behaviour, and, with the Concurrence of two thirds, expel a Member.

Each House shall keep a Journal of its Proceedings, and from time to time publish the same, excepting such Parts as may in their Judgment require Secrecy; and the Yeas and Nays of the Members of either House on any question shall, at the Desire of one fifth of those Present, be entered on the Journal.

Neither House, during the Session of Congress, shall, without the Consent of the other, adjourn for more than three days, nor to any other Place than that in which the two Houses shall be sitting.

Section. 6.

The Senators and Representatives shall receive a Compensation for their Services, to be ascertained by Law, and paid out of the Treasury of the United States. They shall in all Cases, except Treason, Felony and Breach of the Peace, be privileged from Arrest during their Attendance at the Session of their respective Houses, and in going to and returning from the same; and for any Speech or Debate in either House, they shall not be questioned in any other Place.

No Senator or Representative shall, during the Time for which he was elected, be appointed to any civil Office under the Authority of the United States, which shall have been created, or the Emoluments whereof shall have been encreased during such time; and no Person holding any Office under the United States, shall be a Member of either House during his Continuance in Office.

Section. 7.

All Bills for raising Revenue shall originate in the House of Representatives; but the Senate may propose or concur with Amendments as on other Bills.

Every Bill which shall have passed the House of Representatives and the Senate, shall, before it become a Law, be presented to the President of the United States; If he approve he shall sign it, but if not he shall return it, with his Objections to that House in which it shall have originated, who shall enter the Objections at large on their Journal, and proceed to reconsider it. If after such Reconsideration two thirds of that House shall agree to pass the Bill, it shall be sent, together with the Objections, to the other House, by which it shall likewise be reconsidered, and if approved by two thirds of that House, it shall become a Law. But in all such Cases the Votes of both Houses shall be determined by yeas and Nays, and the Names of the Persons voting for and against the Bill shall be entered on the Journal of each House respectively. If any Bill shall not be returned by the President within ten Days (Sundays excepted) after it shall have been presented to him, the Same shall be a Law, in like Manner as if he had signed it, unless the Congress by their Adjournment prevent its Return, in which Case it shall not be a Law.

Every Order, Resolution, or Vote to which the Concurrence of the Senate and House of Representatives may be necessary (except on a question of Adjournment) shall be presented to the President of the United States; and before the Same shall take Effect, shall be approved by him, or being disapproved by him, shall be repassed by two thirds of the Senate and House of Representatives, according to the Rules and Limitations prescribed in the Case of a Bill.

Section. 8.

The Congress shall have Power To lay and collect Taxes, Duties, Imposts and Excises, to pay the Debts and provide for the common Defence and general Welfare of the United States; but all Duties, Imposts and Excises shall be uniform throughout the United States;

To borrow Money on the credit of the United States;

To regulate Commerce with foreign Nations, and among the several States, and with the Indian Tribes;

To establish an uniform Rule of Naturalization, and uniform Laws on the subject of Bankruptcies throughout the United States;

To coin Money, regulate the Value thereof, and of foreign Coin, and fix the Standard of Weights and Measures;

To provide for the Punishment of counterfeiting the Securities and current Coin of the United States;

To establish Post Offices and post Roads;

To promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries;

To constitute Tribunals inferior to the supreme Court;

To define and punish Piracies and Felonies committed on the high Seas, and Offences against the Law of Nations;

To declare War, grant Letters of Marque and Reprisal, and make Rules concerning Captures on Land and Water;

To raise and support Armies, but no Appropriation of Money to that Use shall be for a longer Term than two Years;

To provide and maintain a Navy;

To make Rules for the Government and Regulation of the land and naval Forces;

To provide for calling forth the Militia to execute the Laws of the Union, suppress Insurrections and repel Invasions;

To provide for organizing, arming, and disciplining, the Militia, and for governing such Part of them as may be employed in the Service of the United States, reserving to the States respectively, the Appointment of the Officers, and the Authority of training the Militia according to the discipline prescribed by Congress;

To exercise exclusive Legislation in all Cases whatsoever, over such District (not exceeding ten Miles square) as may, by Cession of particular States, and the Acceptance of Congress, become the Seat of the Government of the United States, and to exercise like Authority over all Places purchased by the Consent of the Legislature of the State in which the Same shall be, for the Erection of Forts, Magazines, Arsenals, dock-Yards, and other needful Buildings;—And

To make all Laws which shall be necessary and proper for carrying into Execution the foregoing Powers, and all other Powers vested by this Constitution in the Government of the United States, or in any Department or Officer thereof.

Section. 9.

The Migration or Importation of such Persons as any of the States now existing shall think proper to admit, shall not be prohibited by the Congress prior to the Year one thousand eight hundred and eight, but a Tax or duty may be imposed on such Importation, not exceeding ten dollars for each Person.

The Privilege of the Writ of Habeas Corpus shall not be suspended, unless when in Cases of Rebellion or Invasion the public Safety may require it.

No Bill of Attainder or ex post facto Law shall be passed.

No Capitation, or other direct, Tax shall be laid, unless in Proportion to the Census or enumeration herein before directed to be taken.

No Tax or Duty shall be laid on Articles exported from any State.

No Preference shall be given by any Regulation of Commerce or Revenue to the Ports of one State over those of another: nor shall Vessels bound to, or from, one State, be obliged to enter, clear, or pay Duties in another.

No Money shall be drawn from the Treasury, but in Consequence of Appropriations made by Law; and a regular Statement and Account of the Receipts and Expenditures of all public Money shall be published from time to time.

No Title of Nobility shall be granted by the United States: And no Person holding any Office of Profit or Trust under them, shall, without the Consent of the Congress, accept of any present, Emolument, Office, or Title, of any kind whatever, from any King, Prince, or foreign State.

Section. 10.

No State shall enter into any Treaty, Alliance, or Confederation; grant Letters of Marque and Reprisal; coin Money; emit Bills of Credit; make any Thing but gold and silver Coin a Tender in Payment of Debts; pass any Bill of Attainder, ex post facto Law, or Law impairing the Obligation of Contracts, or grant any Title of Nobility.

No State shall, without the Consent of the Congress, lay any Imposts or Duties on Imports or Exports, except what may be absolutely necessary for executing it's inspection Laws: and the net Produce of all Duties and Imposts, laid by any State on Imports or Exports, shall be for the Use of the Treasury of the United States; and all such Laws shall be subject to the Revision and Controul of the Congress.

No State shall, without the Consent of Congress, lay any Duty of Tonnage, keep Troops, or Ships of War in time of Peace, enter into any Agreement or Compact with another State, or with a foreign Power, or engage in War, unless actually invaded, or in such imminent Danger as will not admit of delay.

Article. II.

Section. 1.

The executive Power shall be vested in a President of the United States of America. He shall hold his Office during the Term of four Years, and, together with the Vice President, chosen for the same Term, be elected, as follows

Each State shall appoint, in such Manner as the Legislature thereof may direct, a Number of Electors, equal to the whole Number of Senators and Representatives to which the State may be entitled in the Congress: but no Senator or Representative, or Person holding an Office of Trust or Profit under the United States, shall be appointed an Elector.

The Electors shall meet in their respective States, and vote by Ballot for two Persons, of whom one at least shall not be an Inhabitant of the same State with themselves. And they shall make a List of all the Persons voted for, and of the Number of Votes for each; which List they shall sign and certify, and transmit sealed to the Seat of the Government of the United States, directed to the President of the Senate. The President of the Senate shall, in the Presence of the Senate and House of Representatives, open all the Certificates, and the Votes shall then be counted. The Person having the greatest Number of Votes shall be the President, if such Number be a Majority of the whole Number of Electors appointed; and if there be more than one who have such Majority, and have an equal Number of Votes, then the House of Representatives shall immediately chuse by Ballot one of them for President; and if no Person have a Majority, then from the five highest on the List the said House shall in like Manner chuse the President. But in chusing the President, the Votes shall be taken by States, the Representation from each State having one Vote; A quorum for this Purpose shall consist of a Member or Members from two thirds of the States, and a Majority of all the States shall be necessary to a Choice. In every Case, after the Choice of the President, the Person having the greatest Number of Votes of the Electors shall be the Vice President. But if there should remain two or more who have equal Votes, the Senate shall chuse from them by Ballot the Vice President.

The Congress may determine the Time of chusing the Electors, and the Day on which they shall give their Votes; which Day shall be the same throughout the United States.

No Person except a natural born Citizen, or a Citizen of the United States, at the time of the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible to the Office of President; neither shall any Person be eligible to that Office who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty five Years, and been fourteen Years a Resident within the United States.

In Case of the Removal of the President from Office, or of his Death, Resignation, or Inability to discharge the Powers and Duties of the said Office, the Same shall devolve on the Vice President, and the Congress may by Law provide for the Case of Removal, Death, Resignation or Inability, both of the President and Vice President, declaring what Officer shall then act as President, and such Officer shall act accordingly, until the Disability be removed, or a President shall be elected.

The President shall, at stated Times, receive for his Services, a Compensation, which shall neither be encreased nor diminished during the Period for which he shall have been elected, and he shall not receive within that Period any other Emolument from the United States, or any of them.

Before he enter on the Execution of his Office, he shall take the following Oath or Affirmation:—"I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."

Section. 2.

The President shall be Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy of the United States, and of the Militia of the several States, when called into the actual Service of the United States; he may require the Opinion, in writing, of the principal Officer in each of the executive Departments, upon any Subject relating to the Duties of their respective Offices, and he shall have Power to grant Reprieves and Pardons for Offences against the United States, except in Cases of Impeachment.

He shall have Power, by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate, to make Treaties, provided two thirds of the Senators present concur; and he shall nominate, and by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate, shall appoint Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls, Judges of the supreme Court, and all other Officers of the United States, whose Appointments are not herein otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by Law: but the Congress may by Law vest the Appointment of such inferior Officers, as they think proper, in the President alone, in the Courts of Law, or in the Heads of Departments.

The President shall have Power to fill up all Vacancies that may happen during the Recess of the Senate, by granting Commissions which shall expire at the End of their next Session.

Section. 3.

He shall from time to time give to the Congress Information of the State of the Union, and recommend to their Consideration such Measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient; he may, on extraordinary Occasions, convene both Houses, or either of them, and in Case of Disagreement between them, with Respect to the Time of Adjournment, he may adjourn them to such Time as he shall think proper; he shall receive Ambassadors and other public Ministers; he shall take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed, and shall Commission all the Officers of the United States.

Section. 4.

The President, Vice President and all civil Officers of the United States, shall be removed from Office on Impeachment for, and Conviction of, Treason, Bribery, or other high Crimes and Misdemeanors.

Article. III.

Section. 1.

The judicial Power of the United States, shall be vested in one supreme Court, and in such inferior Courts as the Congress may from time to time ordain and establish. The Judges, both of the supreme and inferior Courts, shall hold their Offices during good Behaviour, and shall, at stated Times, receive for their Services, a Compensation, which shall not be diminished during their Continuance in Office.

Section. 2.

The judicial Power shall extend to all Cases, in Law and Equity, arising u

what the actual fucking hell

[jilljoycearts]

So you've got a full time job in animation, right? PLEASE tell me (us, all of us) how long did it take to get in the industry, I'm personally having some PLANS, but I need some estimation ><

Yep, I’ve been working full-time as a 2D animator for a while now. But my personal experience can likely be not so helpful. Anyway. I would say it took me about one year from starting learning to job offer. Half a year - if we talk about serious interest to get a job in the field. I applied only to two vacancies in total, completed one test task for one of them (the first company didn’t send me one), and then my art director from my current job found me himself and offered me their test task. By that time I was already good at what I do, I think, so they liked my test task.

But here comes the list of buts (not butts, sorry!) - I do art professionally for years so I have a solid base in the field, animation stuff just layered on top. I often help junior artists as a teacher or mentor. Also my company and I match with our weird vibes of sort. Other people in animation called my pick of projects for my portfolio strange, sometimes disturbing, but my art director liked it.

Other things to mention is I’m 100% self taught and haven’t attended any courses or animation schools. LinkedIn Learning has several useful videos on the classic animation foundations, YouTube has tons of tutorial videos on the software, they’re my teachers.

Feel free to ask anything more specific.