#We have several vacancies.

[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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[eddiesxangel]

Noisy Neighbours | E.M

Summary: Eddie has no idea what he’s getting into with the two new girls next door.

An: HAPPY PRIDE 🏳️‍🌈 this is my first fic like this so im hoping you’ll like it! Today is my birthday and I wanted to do this as my little gay gift to you! And shout out to @xxbimbobunnyxx for listening to my deranged horny thots throughout writing this 😘💋

Cw: f!reader x f!readers girlfriend x Eddie. Reader and of gf are bi/pan/ whatever you want them to be. Threesome, oral ( fxf + fxm) fingering, , 69ning, ass play ,p in v.

4.3k words

Eddie felt a surge of frustration and disappointment when he learned about the impending arrival of new neighbours that would be moving in directly beside his apartment. Despite the several vacancies in the building, the landlord, Gerry, opted to place the new tenants next to Eddie. This decision left Eddie contemplating whether Gerry held a personal grudge against him, possibly due to his occasional late-night guitar solos that may have disturbed the peace of the building.

Eddie had grown accustomed to the absence of tantalizing food aromas wafting from his neighbour's kitchen and the absence of music that he imagined others endured. He found solace in the cozy life he had built for himself in apartment 3A. However, the impending arrival of new occupants in 3B threatened to disrupt the tranquillity he had carefully cultivated.

Eddie changed his tune the second he got wind of who his new neighbours would be. When he had seen the moving truck out front through his window, his eyes almost popped out of his head. Eddie watched and waited as one of the hottest girls he’d ever seen get out of the driver's seat; he soon learned her name was Sabrina. He continued to watch, his eyes begging him to blink but he couldn’t move as he watched you hop out. You had giggled at something at what the bombshell blonde said. His jaw hung open, and his tongue almost hit the floor like a cartoon character as he ogled you as well. The set of you sure was a sight for soar eyes. What karma Eddie had was finally coming for him, and he was so grateful.

Eddie felt he had to introduce himself, it was a neighbourly thing to do.

After two days, he worked up the courage to knock on the door of 3B.

“You expecting someone?” Your girlfriend pops her head up curiously. You’re both cuddling on the couch, exhausted from unpacking.

“Nope,” you emphasize the p sound.

She shuffled up and opened the door. “Oh, hello,” you could hear the smirk in her voice, and your morbid curiosity took over, needing to see who stood on the other side.

“H-Hi,” you hear a deep voice. "I'm Eddie.” He sounded hot. You quickly get up off the couch and make your way to where Sabrina stood.

“Who’s this?” You caught sight of the man before you and gave a small smile.

“This is Eddie; he lives next door.” You grab onto your girlfriend’s waist as she speaks.

“Hi Eddie, it’s nice to meet you.” You smile genuinely.

“Pleasure is all mine.” His eyes scan your body; you’re in tiny sleep shorts and a baby tee with no bra.

“Do you want to come in? I think we have something to drink around here.” Sabrina offers.

“Oh no, I can’t impose, I-uh… just wanted to come to say hi, but another night when you’re settled.” Eddie is trying so hard not to stare at both sets of tits laid out for him. The fabrics of your shirts were so thin he could see each of your nipples. And he can tell the AC is working, to his pleasure.

“Okay, Eddie, it was nice meeting you.” You both smile and shut the door.

The second the door closed, you both gave one another a knowing look. He's hot.

🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️

You run into Eddie sometimes on the elevator, but you still haven’t had time to coordinate a time to have that drink.

Eddie will see you leaving and Sabrina coming, or vice versa. He figured it was a pretty sweet deal for you two to set up, each having your own space but maintaining a good friendship.

You’re both quiet and listen to decent music. At least one of you is seemingly an amazing cook because the food smells delicious each time.

He hasn’t thought much of how touchy the two of you were when he first met you. He was too focused on not getting a stiffy while meeting the both of you for the first time. He scolded himself for turning down Sabrina‘s offer for a drink, but he didn’t think he could conceal the ever-growing issue in his sweats.

It’s been a month since you and your girlfriend, Sabrina, just moved into your new apartment. It wasn’t much to boast about; sure, the wallpaper was ugly-but the rent was cheap, and so far, you haven’t seen any critters crawling around, so that was a huge plus.

You wished your schedules were more aligned, but with Sabrina’s new job and yours, life had gotten a little hectic. You’d hardly seen one another until tonight.

Tonight, you both ensured one another that it was date night. You haven’t had the chance to spend quality time with one another since you moved in, but that changes tonight. You will wine and dine and get that much-needed time together…

Sabrina and you are stumbling over your heels, trying to balance yourselves as you make your way through your front door without trying to break the kiss. It’s hot, it’s needy, and god, you missed her like this.

Her long, soft hair is tangled through your fingers as you pull her into you for more. You don't want to mess it up because she looked so pretty and spent so much time on it but that went to the wayside when she let out a soft moan.

You can feel Sabrina’s emerald green slip dress rub between your fingers as you grip her by the hip. This dress has been teasing you all night, and you can't wait to get it off of her.

Your lipsticks are smudged, but none of that matters because they’ve created a beautiful new pink colour on both of you.

Stumbling through the hallway to your shared bedroom, you land on the bed with a squeal as your girlfriend crawls on top of you.

“Oh, baby!” You let a moan a little louder than usual; you and some cocktails were starting to take effect- not that you needed alcohol to loosen up, but it definitely made you more vocal in the bedroom.

Her perfectly manicured hands trailed up your inner thighs and under your mini skirt, brushing over your bare cunt.

“No panties?” She whispered. “Naughty girl, hiding this from me all night.”

“Baby, please, I want you so bad.”

“Don’t worry, pretty girl, I’ll take care of you.” She sinks down, her glossy wet lips make contact with your pussy and you let out a cry of pleasure.

🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️

Just as Eddie is ready to fall asleep, he hears a sharp squeal through the paper-thin walls of his bedroom.

Maybe she saw a spider? He almost called out to see if you're okay, but-

“Oh, baby!”

Ok, maybe not a spider…

A pang of jealousy shoots through Eddie's chest. He wanted to be with the one to be on the other side of his wall. It didn’t matter what roommate it was; he wanted both of you.

Eddie listened and waited to see if he would hear anything more, but it was silent for a few minutes. Maybe Eddie was hearing things?

“Your pretty little clit is so puffy, begging for me to suck on it.”

“Baby, please stop teasing!

Nope, he heard right.

Eddie can’t help his curiosity. He presses his ear up against the wall to listen.

“Yeah, baby, just like that! Such a good girl f’me- OH YES!”

No way this was happening right now? No way he had the two hottest neighbours on the planet, and they were fucking?

"Sabrina!"—"Good girl, y/n say my name.”

Yes. That was 100% what was happening on the other side of the wall.

Both you and your girlfriend’s filthy words and moans fill Eddie's silent room, and he can’t help but touch himself. It was impossible to not be turned on. He can picture the both of you, how one is spread out under the other- Or maybe one of you has their ass in the air and is getting eaten out from behind? Or maybe you’re pussy's are rubbing together?

The sounds mixed with the images Eddie is mustering up in his own head have him whimpering and moaning. No longer aware of the fact that since he can hear you, you can hear him, he gets lost in it as he fucks his fist.

Eddie’s moans fill your bedroom as you’re about to go down in Sabrina. She’s on all fours facing the wall where Eddie’s bed lays on the other side. She quickly crawls up closer to get a better listen.

You follow suit and kneel beside her. “He’s so hot I want him to fuck us,” you pout.

Sabrina turns to you with a mischievous grin on her face, and you can’t help but lean into her touch. She starts twirling a piece of your hair. “Oh, my baby wants that pretty boy next door? I’ll get him for you; good girls always get what they want.”

“I'LL DO IT,” Eddie immediately blurts out, not realizing you don’t know he can hear you.

“What the?” You gasp.

“Eddie?” Sabrina taps on the wall like she knocking on a door.

“Yeah,” he answered, and you giggle.

“You naughty boy, have you been spying on us?” You giggle again.

But there was no answer. You wait a few more seconds before repeating his name, but you’re both startled when you hear a knock on your front door.

You both quickly get off the bed, not bothering to put on clothes and look through the peephole to ensure it’s him.

He stood in the hallway in only his boxers hands in front of his boner, as if that would do any good at hiding it.

Sabrina opens the door and you quickly grab him and pulls him inside before he could say anything and before anyone else could see you.

“Holy shit” his bold brown eyes go wide when he sees the pair of you standing there naked in front of him.

“Did you like listening to us?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he nods his head dumbly.

“I bet you did. You’re so nice and hard.” You both look down at his cock strained against his boxers.

“You wanna play with us, Eddie?” You ask with your voice, which is so silky and sweet. Stepping towards him, your fingers trace their way down his arm moving it from where his hands cup his cock so you can graze it yourself.

“Fuck yeah” he pants.

“Come” Sabrina takes his hand and you take the other and you both lead him to your shared bedroom.

I can’t believe this is happening Eddie thought.

“Better believe it, big boy”

Oh shit, Eddie didn’t think he said that out loud.

Eddie falls on the bed and watches as you and your girlfriend crawl up into the bed and hover over top of him.

“Like two goddamn succubus,” he lets out, and you and Brina can’t help but giggle.

“Oh, this is going to be fun.” Your girlfriend looks to you.

You lean in to give her a kiss as Eddie watches from below. His cock still growing by the second; it was like he was watching a live prono.

Nerves suddenly flooded Eddie. What was he allowed to do and not do? Would he get to fuck either of you? Maybe just one? Maybe none? Maybe you’ll only make him watch. Not that he minded, but go, he needed to fuck at least one of you.

“I think we’ve teased Eddie long enough.” She spoke as her hand grazed up Eddie’s cock.

“I’m sure he’s more than ready for us, don’t you think?” you counter.

Eddie lay there propped up on your pillows, too stunned to speak. He didn’t even know where to start. His mouth was getting dry and he did not want to fuck this up.

“What do you?-what can I?” His hands pointed between the two of you.

“You can do whatever you want to use, Eddie.” Brina took a loose tendril of Eddie’s hair and twirled it around her finger like she did with you; all the while, you were starting to remove his checkered boxers from his hips.

“R-really?”

“Tell us what you want, sugar.” She purrs.

“I wa- I want to fuck you both.”

“Oh, tell us more” You plant a kiss on his upper thigh, moving towards his hard cock, which is painfully being neglected.

“I want to watch you fuck each other.”

“Mmmmm, that’s so hot.” Brina moaned before moving down to where you are and taking Eddie’s cock in her light grasp.

You make your way up Eddie’s body by kissing him inch by inch until your lips are latched on Eddie’s neck.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening.” Eddie whimpered.

“Want to taste this pussy, make sure it is real?”

“Please” he sighs.

You hear Brina moan around Eddie’s cock at your words.

It’s been a while since you had a cock in your mouth, and you wished you were the first one who got to go down on him, but the thought of sitting on Eddie’s face while your girl was swallowing him was too hot to pass up.

“Look at these nice big balls; I bet they’re filled with so much cum, just for us,” you hear her moan.

“Fuck me, you’re so hot,” Eddie brushes Sabrina’s hair out of her face.

You turn your body to face her so you can watch while you perch yourself right atop Eddie’s face.

“Yes, yes, come sit on my face,” you feel his big strong hands grip your hips and pull you down so your pussy lips meet his mouth.

“Oh fuck!” You laugh as the rough stubble of his face brushes the inside of your thighs.

Eddie wanted to waste no time. He needed to prove to you that choosing him was the right decision, and he needed to prove himself so you guys would let him play again; with much thought, he drags his tongue, moving through your folds to your clit, tasting every inch of you.

A loud moan left your throat as you looked down at your girl smiling up at you.

“He that good, baby?” Brina asks as she begins to jerk Eddie off with her hand.

“Oh yes, baby.” You grind your hips into his mouth, and Eddie smacks your ass before grabbing a handful of it.

“Oh!” You let out an excited squeal.

“Oh, you like a princess?” Eddie mumbled into your pussy.”

“Mmmph, yes, Eddie,” You were already so worked up by the situation you were already about to cum.

“Come on, Eddie, make my girl cum, and we will let you fuck us both.”

That piqued Eddie’s interest as he continued to flick his hot wet tongue over your clit while slowly sticking a finger up your dripping hole.

“Oh fuck!” You fall a little bit forward on your hands, your pussy in Eddie’s face, and your ass up in the air.

"Tastes so fucking good."

“Fuck that’s so hot"

You nod in agreement, unable to form words.

With Eddie's cock so close to your mouth, you can't help yourself but take it in your hand and bring it to your lips.

"fuck me, that is so good," Eddie speaks as your mouth finds his tip and Sabrina licks his balls.

Eddie needed to make you cum now, or else he wouldn't have the chance to fuck either of you if the two of your kept it up like this.

His long, thick fingers worked inside of you, hitting your g spot perfectly.

"Don't stop" You pop off his dick, drool dripping down your chin as your cry out.

"He making you feel good, baby?"

"Yes!" You shake as your orgasm hits you.

Eddie doesn't stop until Sabrina pulls his face away from your pussy.

"Let me taste." She moves his head to face her and kisses Eddie while you collect yourself.

"You taste so good, baby." She pulls away and leans into you, "Want to see?" You nod your head dumbly as she leans in to kiss you, sticking her tongue in your mouth.

Her soft lips pull away, and you whine at the disconnect.

"Wanna show Eddie how we play together?"

"Mmm, yes," you nod enthusiastically.

Quickly, Eddie moves to the end of the bed and steps off so Sabrina can take his place. She lays out for you, legs spread wide, showing you just how turned on she is. Her pink pussy is glistening, just begging for attention.

"Oh, baby, you're so wet for me" You lay down in front of her with your legs propped up to show Eddie your ass.

You slowly kiss up her inner thighs, teasing and biting at her skin until you reach the apex. You kiss around her pussy lips until she's grinding and begging for you to touch her.

"Baby, baby, baby." She begs until you give in. Placing your lips onto her clit and giving it a kiss before you poke your tongue out to finally run it along your girlfriend's sweet pussy.

The view in front of Eddie was enough to make him cum on the spot. He needed to stop stroking himself, or else he would be finishing before he even got started.

He was so tempted to fuck you right now. It would be so easy to slip his cock inside your pussy that was perched on display for him, but he also needed to commit this picture to memory. Nothing would ever let him forget this moment. Watching you go down on your girl and having her cry out from the pleasure you were giving her. Your skills are so good that her hips won't stay still on the bed. You need to hold her down as your fingers enter her weeping pussy. The lewd, wet sounds filled the room, along with Eddie's heavy breaths trying to hold back. His cock was so hard it was edging on the point of pain.

"Fuck I'm going to cum! I'm going to cum." She screamed.

"Fuking cum for her," Eddie growled.

The command was so hot it made you moan into her making her cum instantly.

"Good job, baby," you praised. You crawled back up to kiss her lips, and Eddie couldn't take it anymore. He needed to feel his release.

"Can I?" He looks at the both of you with those gorgeous puppy dog eyes.

"I think he's been a good boy; he deserves a treat. What do you think?" You ask.

"Oh, he's been a very good boy." She smiles back and moves to get a condom from the drawer.

"You guys just leave those around?" Eddie chuckles in disbeliefe.

"Never know when your hot neighbour will agree to have a threesome." You pull him into a kiss. His lips are so soft and supple that another rush of arousal courses through you as his hands roam your body. He pulls away to kiss down your neck to your breast, taking a perked nipple into his mouth while he grasps the other one in his large hand.

"Her tits are perfect, aren't they?" Sabrina hands Eddie the condom.

Eddie's tongue flicks off your nipple deliciously before he moves to answer.

"Can you fuck us now?"

"Yes!" Eddie said a bit too enthusiastically, but it was endearing.

"How do you want us?"

"Doggy," he points to you, "on top." He points to Brina.

You enthusiastically turn around in anticipation of his thick hard cock stretching out out.

"Fucking perfect." Eddie rolls the condom on, but before he gets to you, he watches as Sabrina makes her way closer to you.

"You know this is her favourite position because she loves a finger up her ass." She smirks, and a rush of arousal flooods your pussy once again. You hear her spit drip from her lips, and a warm wet liquid runs down your ass to your hole before you feel her tongue flick your small hole.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck," Eddie grounded, letting his head fall back, not knowing he could get any more turned on.

"Your turn, big boy"

Eddie walks to the edge of the bed; your pussy is at the perfect height, so he runs his cock up and down your folds collecting all of your slick so he can glide in easily.

You wiggle your ass into him, already cock drunk before it even begins.

"God baby, look how desperate you are for his cock."

You nod in agreeance.

"You just can't help yourself, can you? Greedy girl." your girlfriend leaves an open mouth and kisses you, watching and waiting for Eddie to enter you. She loves watching your pussy open up while taking cock, whether that be real or dildo.

"She is, isn't she" Eddie agrees while kneading your ass as he finally slips his cock into you.

A feral noise leaves your throat as Eddie's cock stretches you out.

Nothing occupied your mind other than how Eddie was making you feel now. His delicious cock, pumped in and out and out, not letting up.

"Fuck right there!"

"I think you found her special spot," Sabrina smirks before taking her fingers in her mouth to wet them. Too consumed to listen to what they were saying, your focus on only the feeling and when it intensifies because Brina's fingers enter your ass, you can't help but cry out again.

"Fuck!"

“Such a good girl. Take that cock, baby.” Sabrina praises as her fingers pump in and out of your ass.

The combination of Eddie's cock and her fingers made you feel so full. Nothing mattered other than how you were feeling.

"More" you cry.

"Oh, she is greedy." Eddie's hips slap into you at a more frivolous pace.

His balls hit your clit with every thrust until, out of nowhere, you feel a vibrator on your clit. She must have gotten it out while getting the condom, but you hadn't noticed or cared because it was just the thing to bring you over the edge.

"I'm going to cum!" you cry.

Not even a minute with the vibrator to your clit, and your pussy was clamping down hard on Eddie. It was like a tidal wave crashed into you; never had you cum this hard before. Your body shakes so hard under their touch that your arms and legs give out, and you collapse face down on the bed.

Mindless giggles leave your lungs as you ride out your high.

"Fuck did we break her?" Eddie looks at Sabrina.

"No, she's more than good. Never had cock that good, though." She smirked, and Eddie shuffled onto his back so she could get ready to be on top of him.

Exiting your daze, you see your girl already mounted on Eddie- and what a sight to see. A tit in his mouth as she bounces on his cock.

"God, that's so hot," you moan, and you sit up.

"Come here, princess," Eddie commands.

You obey and crawl your way over.

"Kiss," he instructs.

You lean into Sabrina, and she willingly takes your open-mouth kiss. Your tongues fight for dominance against one another, your lipgloss and hers are rubbed off, and your lips are swollen with a hint of colour flushed through them.

“Oh fuck I’m going to cum.” She pulls away.

"You're doing such a good job bouncing on his cock, baby," you praise before pressing your lips to hers once again.

“Mmmmm fuck her good; she’s been such a good girl she deserves to cum. Don’t you think Eddie?”

“Yes, she has,” he agrees while giving his ass a slap. “Fuck, you’re just my bunny, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she nodded her head. You can tell she’s so close, and you want her to experience cuming in Eddie stock just as you did.

“Come on baby, cum in his cock like I know you can.” You slip your hand between where she and Eddie connect to rub her clit, knowing it’s that little extra boost that will send her over the edge.

A loud cry leaves her lungs, and you know she’s cuming and cuming hard.

“Oh, good job, baby.” You purr before leaning in to kiss her neck.

“Fuck!” Eddie screams out, finally letting go as he allows himself release into the condom.

“Oh, Eddie, you did such a good job for us.” You praise sticking his hair out of his face before taking his lips into yours.

Eddie lay there in a daze as you helped Sabrina off his cock.

“Baby, did we break him?” You giggle.

“I think he’s reprogramming his brain,” she laughs.

“Nothing in my life will ever top this moment,” Eddie admits breathlessly.

“Oh yeah, wanna bet?” Sabrina challenged.

“You mean? You wanna do that again?”

“Not now, silly. I don’t think any of us would survive. But who said this has to be a one-time thing?”

“Best neighbours ever,” Eddie fist pumps.

After you all catch your breath, Eddie gets up and finds his boxers to go home.

“Wait, where are you going?" You pout.

“Uh, I thought?” He points to the door.

“Stay. Please?” Brina lifts up the blankets to invite him to sleep between the two of you.

“Really?” His eyes go wide with disbelief.

You both nod your heads enthusiastically.

“It will be like a sleepover!” You clap.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Eddie scrambled back to the bed between you. No one would ever believe him, but he will take everything to his advantage out of this new and exciting situation.

“We really like you, Eddie.” You smile and snuggle into his side.

“I really like you guys, too.” Eddie falls asleep soundly, smiling, and without a care in the world.

Tags: @strangerstilinski @voyeurmunson @espressomunson @littlexdeaths @lokis-army-77 @andvys @taintedcigs

@tlclick73 @penguinsandpotterheads @nailbatanddungeon @hellfiremunsonn @paybacksawitch @jamdoughnutmagician

[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

[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.

[hbyrde36]

WIP Something

Last Thursday @dreamwatch tagged me in a post that for her counted towards a Seven Sentence Sunday tag and a WIP Wednesday tag. And I was ill and not really writing for a few days there, but today—TODAY I made words happen and a pretty big push towards finally getting the next (THE PENULTIMATE) chapter of a WIP out.

And oh haha look we're back at Wednesday which was totally on purpose! 😅

So, anyway

Words:

“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 setup?” Eddie stuck out his bottom lip, arms crossing 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.”

from chapter 11 of No Vacancy

No pressure tags for whatever flavor of WIP game strikes your fancy: @penny00dreadful @pearynice @rocknrollsalad @momotonescreaming @sidekick-hero

@shares-a-vest @griefabyss69 @kikidoesfanfic @thefreakandthehair @medusapelagia

[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

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Workshop

warnings: quick mention of abusive past.

pairing: modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: you need a job, and there's only one option left.

word count: 3,8k

Note: I looked at the votes in my poll and most of you voted for wanting all kinds of fics. But looking at the other most voted options, it showed you wanted modern fics and smut. Well, congratulations, you got yourself a modern smut fic.

[part 2] [part 3]

About a month ago you had quit your previous job. You didn't like the way you got treated and the pay was even worse. You had enough and just took off, never to return again. Ever since, you'd been job hunting, without any luck. A lot of places needed staff, but you were turned down at each job because you didn't have a nice and fancy degree to show them. It was already late at night, and you were hopelessly scrolling through jobs again.

There was only one vacancy left, which you had scrolled past several times already. It simply said "welcome desk employee", and that was it. It was not really what you were looking for in the first place, and not having a more accurate description also really annoyed you, but it was the only one left you hadn't applied to. You made yourself a cup of tea and eventually emailed your CV, not knowing what kind of company you just reacted to, and you went to bed not much later.

The next morning you saw you had received an email, which looked like it came from the company you applied to. It said:

We wish to inform you that, after careful consideration, we'd like to invite you for an interview at our shop. We'd like to see you today at 2pm, if suitable for you. If not, please reply to this email, so we can schedule a new appointment. Below is the address, we hope to see you soon.

Kind regards,

Finan & Sihtric.

A shop? you thought. You also frowned at their names. They don't even give a phone number and their names sound ancient, they must be like 89 years old or something. You caught yourself thinking and felt it was unfair of you, and as you were a little curious now, you decided to go.

A few hours later you stood in front of the address you were given. You looked around and felt this must be a mistake. It was nearly in the middle of the city centre, but also… not. Within 10 minutes you'd walk to a pub, but if you'd walk 10 minutes into the other direction you'd end up in fields with cows and some sheep. The shop you were invited to was attached to empty buildings, which, from the looks of it, one used to be a butcher shop on the right, and a car repair store to the left. The outside of the building was painted black, which made it look very vintage. And unlike the empty shops it was attached to, this shop didn't have a window. Instead it was a big wall, which was made of dark wood that was decorated with big, black iron bars. And on the far right of the wall, there was a black door, which was also made of wood and had the same iron bars on it. It looked impressive, but you still had no idea what the place was. It could be a mechanic workshop or it could be a torture chamber, and you weren't very excited about either one. You let out a big sigh and walked to the black door, and you used the big iron door knocker to make your presence known.

The door opened after a few seconds and you were greeted by a friendly looking Irish man, who spoke with a thick accent and he introduced himself as Finan. He was not 89 years old, as you had expected, not at all. He was a good looking man and you expected him to be in his late thirties. He had short, dark hair, which was combed back, allowing you to see a big scar he had on his face. He had brown eyes and a thick, short, well kept beard with a matching moustache. He was wearing a black t-shirt, showing off his muscular arms, which also had quite some scars, and he was wearing grey cargo jeans, which looked old and worn.

He invited you in with a big, friendly smile and you accepted. When Finan closed the door behind you, you were greeted by a wave of hot air, the smell of fire and smoke, and by the sound of a hammer being smashed against metal.

'Oh, god,' you said as you looked around. The shop, which was not what you expected it to be, was actually a workshop. The place was quite dark, but spacious and almost cosy even. On your left there was a low table, accompanied by two dark red sofas, and a few paces further there was a long, black desk made of wood, which had to be the welcome desk. Behind the welcome desk was a small and somewhat messy kitchen, and right in front of you was a large window and a glass door, which gave view to the entire workplace itself. The left wall of the workplace mainly held tools. Against the middle wall, which was also the biggest wall, was a big fireplace, which you later learned was called a forge. And the right wall was covered by huge, open cabinets, which held all kinds of different metals.

In the middle of the workplace was a large workstation, at which one man was working. You watched him smash a hammer into recently heated metal, which caused sparks to fly with each blow. The man was wearing black cargo jeans, a white shirt which was not fully covered by his leather apron, causing it to be smudged with black stains, and on top of the dirty shirt he wore a red and black coloured flannel, which was unbuttoned and its sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His face was covered by a black welding mask, which protected his face against the flying sparks, but you could see he had somewhat long, dark hair, for it was tied in a bun.

Your mouth had fallen slightly open, and you heard Finan chuckle next to you.

'Not what ye expected?' he asked.

You laughed, 'not really, no. But to be honest… I don't think I belong here.'

'Ah, don't be daft,' he said, 'you need no experience, really. Come, sit,' and pointed at the comfy looking sofas. 'Get comfy, do ye want a drink?'

'Some water, maybe,' you smiled as you sat down. 

'One water for the lady,' he said, and he walked to the small kitchen behind the service desk. He brought you a glass of water and walked to the glass door to open it.

'Sihtric!' he yelled, and you were surprised by the strength of his voice. It sounded like a battle cry. The man at the workstation, who you now knew was Sihtric, stopped mid swing and lifted his covered face up towards the window and then gestured that he would join you two shortly and started to untie his apron.

Finan sat across from you and studied you with a friendly yet amused face. You felt a little awkward, so you just smiled and nodded, and took a sip of your water. You took many sips of your water, actually, as you kept looking up to the walls and the ceiling, so you didn't have to lock eyes with Finan. Then you heard the glass door was being opened and you watched Sihtric walk in as he took off his welding mask, and as you now kinda had expected, he was also not looking like he was 89. He looked like he was in his early thirties, and you were struck by his handsome face, which you tried not to show. His face had some scars, as did his arms, and his eyes were two different colours. He had a tattoo on his neck, a strong jawline and a goatee, which was the same colour as his dark hair.

'Hi,' he smiled and held out his hand, 'I'm Sihtric,' he said.

You shook his hand and told him your name, to which he gave you a quick nod and a wink. You thought it was hot in there before, but now you were simply burning up.

The two men sat across from you, and you smiled politely.

'So,' Finan started, 'as ye can probably tell, we are blacksmiths. We run this company together an' we are also the only employees, as we only take on specific jobs.'

You smiled and nodded as he spoke.

'We started this business about 6 years ago,' he continued, 'and I know what ye think. How can this one here,' he cocked his head to Sihtric, 'possibly be related to the handsome beast that I am myself,' he joked, to which Sihtric rolled his eyes, 'well we are not related, lady. We are simply friends who share a love for this work.'

You chuckled lightly at them. 'So,' you said, 'why do you need a service desk employee if it's only the two of you?'

'Well, we just really need someone to answer the emails. Mainly, turn them down, actually,' Finan smiled, 'we get a lot of requests, but we are already loaded with work, an' as I said, we only take specific jobs. We only create weapons, actually.'

'Weapons?' you asked.

'Weapons,' Finan said as he smiled and nodded. 

You looked a little puzzled and slightly worried.

'We make swords, knives and axes which are used in the film industry,' Sihtric finally spoke in a soft voice, and he gave you a reassuring smile.

'Oh,' you said, 'that's pretty cool.'

'Yes, so, what we need,' Finan said, 'is someone who will keep up with our emails an', if possible, our administration too. It would give us more time to focus on designing an' creatin'. And it is not required, but do ye have any experience with that?'

'Eh, yes, actually. I was a service desk employee at my previous job,' you said and gave them a grimace, 'which I quit because I hated it.'

Sihtric burst out in a loud laughter after a moment of silence and Finan smiled and shook his head, and you couldn't help but laugh too.

'May we know why ye quit?' Finan asked after a pause.

'I was just not being appreciated at all. Worked overtime almost every day and they would actually not even pay me in time.'

'Yikes,' Finan said, as Sihtric made a sour face. 'We promise ye, lady, that we will appreciate ye and ye never have to work overtime. An' Sihtric here will pay ye in time too, I promise.' 

Sihtric rolled his eyes again and smiled at you, 'what he means is, we would love to have you try out a day here and see if you like the job.'

'An' if ye like us,' Finan said.

'Am I also expected to clean up that kitchen?' you asked and pointed towards the dishes.

'Oh, she's a feisty one,' Finan said and Sihtric chuckled.

You laughed and agreed you would like to see if this job is for you. They thanked you for your time and told you that you were welcome to start tomorrow morning, which you accepted.

Both men were already at the workshop when you arrived the next morning. They start work at 10am and you were asked to start at 1pm. Finan opened the door again with a warm smile. He then showed you where to find everything you needed on their laptop, and he said that if you simply had no email to answer or no administration to do, you could just keep yourself busy with whatever, but you were required to stay till closing time, which was 5pm. The workshop didn't really have any rules, except to treat each other with respect and to always be safe if you'd get near the forge, but Finan said you should stay away from it. He said it would be a shame if a pretty thing like you would get scarred and wounded, and he gave you a wink. You felt he was quite the flirt, and it wasn't bothering, but what he didn't know was that Sihtric had been on your mind ever since you saw his face. You thought he was mysterious. He was quiet and thoughtful, he almost seemed shy but when he spoke, he spoke with confidence. And his body language was confident too, and you felt an instant attraction towards him.

After a few hours of catching up with their emails, you took a little break and just sat back. You watched both men at work. Finan was drawing designs and Sihtric was creating them to life. You couldn't help but pout a little when you understood that Sihtric's face would be hidden behind the welding mask almost the whole day, but you took pleasure in watching him work regardless. Like Finan, he was also very muscular. And as his body was used to the working environment, he had his arms uncovered for most of the day and didn't even flinch if a spark would collide with his skin. 

Half an hour before closing time, both men decided to join you and discuss how this day went for you. You told them you were surprised by how smooth everything went and that you had quite enjoyed yourself. They were happy to hear this and so you ended up signing a job contract for 3 months. Finan promised you it was just a formality, and if you enjoyed the job and everything went well, you would simply get a permanent contract after those 3 months.

You understood and agreed to this.

'So,' Finan said, 'I think we got to celebrate this, don't ye?' 

'Celebrate? How?' you asked.

'Pub?' Finan shrugged.

'Oh,' you smiled, 'I am not really that much of a socialiser, actually.'

You didn't mind joining them, but you were afraid it could be seen as unprofessional. Or that this may be a test to see how quick one could get into your pants or something. You saw Finan looking a little impressed by your choice.

'Oh, fair, fair, aye,' Finan said, and he smiled, 'see ye tomorrow then?'

'Yeah, I'll be here tomorrow,' you smiled, 'thank you for today.'

Finan went to grab his coat and pack his bag while Sihtric walked out with you and you watched how he closed the door behind him. '

Look,' Sihtric suddenly said, with a warm voice, 'Finan is a bit of a prankster, and he flirts with everything that has a heartbeat. I hope you're not uncomfortable or intimidated, because to him it's all harmless.'

'Oh, no,' you chuckled, 'no, not at all. I saw right through him the first time already. I'm not bothered by it.'

'Okay, good,' Sihtric said, 'otherwise you have to tell me.' He brushed his hand quickly over your arm, reassuringly, as he gave you a soft smile. 'I'll see you tomorrow then,' he smiled and winked before he walked to his car.

You felt flustered, and quickly turned to walk home. As you were almost at the corner you heard Finan shout at you to have a good evening, to which you gave him a thumbs up and you both laughed.

You really couldn't get Sihtric out of your head, and later that evening you tried to look him up on social media, but you couldn't find him. Same with Finan. You guessed they were just too old school for it, but how you wished you could get a glimpse of Sihtric's life outside of work.

You continued working with them for the next few months, and as promised, you got a permanent contract. You got along with them very well and got quite close to them too. Mainly to Finan, as he was always looking for a way to interact with you. He really became like a big brother to you, and you knew that Finan felt the same. He looked out for you, which you appreciated.

Your bond with Sihtric was a little different. You and him got along very well too, and every day you would catch him staring at you from behind his workstation, at least once. And every time you'd catch him staring, he would give you a sly smirk before pulling his welding mask down to cover his face again, and go back to work. But he always remained a little closed off, and it only made you more interested in him.

Every few weeks they'd ask you to join them on a night out,and you finally gave in. You learned that they often went to an axe-throwing bar, which is where they took you to. You sucked at it, much to their delight, as they both didn't hesitate to help you out by getting close to you and showing you how to position your body and how to throw the axe. You felt weak whenever Sihtric got close, and you saw he was flirty too, but way more subtle than Finan.

One day when you had lunch with Finan, you asked him if Sihtric maybe had some issues with you, because some days he'd be pretty close to you, but there would always be a bit of a distance between the two of you the next day. And Finan told you that Sihtric is a lovely guy with a big heart, but just a little different than most and sometimes has trouble regulating his emotions. He told you that Sihtric grew up in Denmark and didn't have an easy time as a kid. His mother had passed away when he was young, rumour has it that his father had killed her. And to make it even worse, he told you that Sihtric used to be beaten by his father. Which made him a troubled boy growing up, and he'd often drink too much and get himself into fights, to deal with his anger and frustration. But Finan assured you that Sihtric was doing well now. He wasn't a heavy drinker anymore and he practised MMA and archery in his off time, as a healthy outlet. He said that Sihtric had gone through a lot of therapy to cope with his past and he was genuinely happy with his life now, he just always kept a little to himself, which he thinks is a way of keeping himself from getting hurt by the people he cares about. Finan said that you had nothing to worry about, and that Sihtric was very fond of you but he just doesn't know how to show it, so you just had to give him some time.

A few weeks later Finan went home early, as he felt a little under the weather. You and Sihtric stayed and worked the remaining hours together. It was a rather slow day anyway, as they had almost finished the project they had been working on for several months. You finished your work early and sat down on one of the comfy sofas. A few minutes before closing time Sihtric walked out of the workshop and joined you on the sofa. You looked up from your phone and gave him a smile, which he returned and as usual, his smile made you melt.

'So,' Sihtric said as he looked at you, 'you always walk home?'

'I do,' you said, and you looked into his eyes. You thought they were so beautiful, and he was just so handsome, you really had a hard time keeping yourself together. 'Why?' you asked.

'No reason, I just always notice it,' he said with a cheeky smile.

'Oh, you're watching me?' you teased.

'Hah!' he said and chuckled, 'you wish.'

'Is that so, mister?'

'Oh, I see you watching me from behind that desk, lady.'

'I would never,' you said, playfully offended, to which he laughed.

'I see what I see,' he said and he shrugged.

'Well,' you said, 'I see that you are staring at me every day too, care to explain that?'

Sihtric smiled, bit his lower lip, and he looked at you with mischievous eyes. 'Yeah, what if I am?' he said and he cocked his head to the side. He was playful, and you suddenly felt yourself become aroused as you looked at his exposed neck and his tattoo.

You cleared your throat and felt you started to blush, to which he smiled as if satisfied.

'You, Sihtric, just remain a mystery,' you said as you stood up to grab your coat.

'Come with me,' Sihtric said and he looked up at you with kind eyes.

'And go where?' you asked as you put on your coat.

'My house,' he said, 'have dinner with me. And I'll give you a ride home.'

You considered his offer in silence. You were dying to get to know him, but you felt so attracted to him and you didn't want to make things weird if he really only meant this in a platonic way.

Sihtric got up and opened the door for you, 'I actually insist.' He gave you a sweet smile and you were so whipped for him, you easily agreed to go home with him.

His car was an old, black pick up truck, which was well taken care of and ran smoothly. The drive to his house took about 15 minutes, and the whole drive you just had some small talk. He asked you a little about what you do in your time off and you returned the questions.

Then he suddenly asked if you were seeing someone. It caught you by surprise and you felt yourself blush.

'I am not, no,' you said, 'why?'

'Just wondering. I wouldn't want to bring you home later tonight, only to be greeted by an angry partner,' he smiled and he licked his lips as he turned the car into his street. You thought he looked so sexy when he was driving, well, you actually thought he looked sexy doing anything, and you chuckled softly to yourself.

'Are you?' you then asked, 'seeing someone?'

'Would I bring you home if I was?'

'I do not know, Sihtric, you wouldn't be the first to do so.'

He shook his head, 'no, no,' he said, 'I know it's easy to say, but I am really not like that.' And his answer made you smile, which he caught a glimpse of before he shut off the car engine. 

He leaned over you to open the door on your side, he said it was a bit of a tricky door which would lock itself sometimes. And as he managed to unlock it and open it slightly for you, he looked into your eyes and gave you a smile. His face was so close to yours, you could smell his peppermint breath, and it made your legs weak and your head dizzy.

'Sihtric,' you giggled and looked away.

'What?' he asked.

You smiled and shook your head, 'you might be worse than Finan.' You got out of the car and as you closed the door and looked back, you saw that Sihtric hadn't moved and looked at you with a smile. Then he quickly got out of the car and gestured to you to follow him and he walked you to his house.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

For You, I Would Ruin Myself | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! This is a very self-serving fic lol. This is, indeed, something I do! Because of all of the shitty relationships I’ve been in! But of course I don’t have a person to be nice to me about it lol.

Warnings: talk of sex, shitty exes, stressful work environment

—————————

Bucky didn’t like how you slumped against the front door. He didn’t like the vacancy in your eyes or the downtrodden look on your face. “Hey, baby. Long day?” He joined you by the door and welcomed you into his arms. He smoothed a hand through your fallen curls, let his lips rest against your forehead. For nearly two weeks, you’d come home like this. Exhausted. Depleted. Bucky hated it. He hated your boss and your company and all of your clients.

Your head fell into his shoulder, and you nodded against his shirt. It was all you could muster. You just wanted a moment. A moment of calm and quiet and peace. Bucky gave you all the time you needed. He left kisses against your hair and gently slipped your bag from your shoulder. He was always so patient with you, so understanding. 

“I haaate my job,” you groaned. “My department head is a fucking idiot and I swear the manager wants to stick her hand up my ass so she can use me as a puppet”.

Bucky stifled his loud guffaw. Even half-dead, you were still the funniest person he’d ever met. “I’m sorry, sweets. Is there an end in sight to this nightmare or…?”

You lifted your head from his shoulder and groaned again. You seemed groan a lot these days. “Not yet. We’re just supposed to ‘keep on truckin’ until we get word from corporate”.

Bucky frowned, “But you’ve been going in early and coming home late.”

“I know. I’m so tired that I wanna die.”

Dark circles shadowed your under-eyes. Bloody cracks dug into your cuticles. The stress wanted to pick you apart piece by piece until nothing remained. But what bothered you most wasn’t the deadlines or the endless emails. It was your severe lack of time with Bucky.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, Buck. I feel terrible. I know you’re-”

Bucky brought his hands to your cheeks, silencing you. He felt the weight of your head resting against his palms, like your neck decided to take a long-needed break. “Don’t apologize, doll. I understand, okay? I just don’t like seeing you so exhausted. Seems to me like they’re taking advantage of you.”

You nodded. Unfortunately, your company’s bottom line didn’t look good. And the way they stripped money and resources from every department seemed almost criminal. They’d overwork and underpay every member on staff if it meant happy shareholders. And one of those overworked, underpaid employees was you. “If I can just hang on,” you sighed. “If I can just make it through this rough patch and impress the CFO, they’ll promote me- my project manager is sure of it. Things just suck right now.”

Bucky didn’t like the way they treated you. He didn’t like the long hours or the way they expected you to do the work of two- or three- people for the salary of one. He watched as this job slowly drained the life out of you. Each time you returned home, your light was a bit dimmer. And it took even more effort to help you shine again. 

“But I’m gonna stop complaining now,” you said. A manufactured smile replaced your frown, “Tell me about your day, babe.”

Bucky shrugged. “Nothing exciting to report. Long briefing at the compound this morning. Meeting with Hill. Errands. Some laundry. Read over some intel Fury sent my way.” He dotted a kiss to your nose, “And I want you to complain as much as your little heart desires”.

You shrugged. Surely, Bucky didn’t wanna hear you ramble on about trailing averages. And you weren’t about to bore him with work-talk. “I’m good for now”, you shot him a wink. You decided instead to let your gripes scream inside your head. Bucky had been tortured enough, you wouldn’t bore him with statistical analysis.

“Okay, then how about we order some food and you can change into some comfy clothes? We have a new episode of Temptation Island to watch. Sound good?”

“Sounds great”, you said through a yawn.

“Then let’s pick a restaurant and get you some dinner. What do you wanna eat?”

Bucky watched your switch flip in real time. Your posture changed, your eyes brightened. A devilish grin stretched across your face. “I think you know what I wanna eat…”

Bucky eyed you, “um… pasta and garlic knots from Italiano’s?”

Oh, Bucky. So sweet. So innocent.

“No, babe-”, you sighed. “You.” One finger traced lazily across his bottom lip before trailing down his neck and hooking into the collar of his shirt. 

Bucky shook his head and gave you a chuckle. How you’d gone from downtrodden, overworked employee to sultry seductress baffled him. “Doll, what am I gonna do with you?”

“You could fuck me.” 

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “Am I crazy? Weren’t you just talking about how exhausted you are?”

You shrugged, “I mean, yeah. I’m exhausted, but I also wanna fuck you. Two things can be true at the same time, Barnes.”

This was just like you. Bucky loved your hunger for him, your needy lust. He found you nearly insatiable twenty four-seven, and loved every moment of it. You always wanted him. Always needed him desperately in bed. Or the shower. Or on the floor when the bedroom was too far away. You’d sent countless nudes that made missions more bearable. And the paragraph long texts in which you described everything you wanted him to do to you always made his cheeks flush. How your sex drive kept up with his was still a mystery. But he wasn’t complaining.

“Okay,” he laughed, “well let’s put food at priority number one, doll” 

“But wouldn’t you rather eat something else, Buck?”

He brought his hands to either side of your face and narrowed his eyes at you, “I just heard your stomach growl. And you just said that you’re so tired you wanna die.” He swept a thumb over your cheek and grew serious. “Let yourself rest tonight, okay? Let’s eat and relax and go to bed early.”

He expected it- but still laughed at your over-dramatic wink. “No, not like that. We’ll go to sleep early. You need it.”

He sent you to the bedroom with strict instructions to put on pajamas, “I mean, actual pajamas!” he called after you. “No lingerie!” Bucky couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth- no lingerie? He’d never imagined saying that to you. But he could keep it in his pants for a night or two if it meant that you got some much needed rest. He kissed you goodbye each morning at five and welcomed you home every night around eight- it was too much. Too much overtime, too many hours spent getting yelled at by your boss. And not nearly enough rest or time for yourself. 

“Alright, does this pass your ‘real pajamas’ test?” You did a quick spin for Bucky, revealing your outfit for the rest of the night: one of his shirts and a pair of cute underwear. “We both know I usually sleep naked soooo I feel like this is more than appropriate for ‘pajamas’.”

Bucky covered his face and granted you a nod. He didn’t want to make you feel weird or possibly spark some sort of self-consciousness in you, but the question gathering at the tip of his tongue had plagued him for months. He’d batted it away time and time again, banishing it to the back of his mind. But it returned, and he wanted an answer.

“Can I ask…” he cleared his throat. “Are you satisfied with- do we have enough sex? Am I giving you what you need?” He cringed. It was so awkward. So clunky. He truly couldn’t believe how clumsy his words were. But it was important.

Alarm shot through you. “Absolutely, Buck,” you gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Our sex life is perfect- you’reperfect.”

You made your way to the couch and leaned against the back. There was something in the look you wore. Embarrassment? Dejection? Bucky wasn’t sure. But he knew it was his fault. And it wasn’t good. Before he could apologize, however, you mumbled something nearly unintelligible.

“I’m doing it again…” you muttered to yourself with a shake of your head. 

Bucky recognized your look: shame.

He didn’t want to ask- rather, he did want to ask. But didn’t know if he should. Something about the way you walked away, the way you mumbled under your breath. It almost seemed like you tried to find privacy without leaving the room. Like leaning against the couch while your shoulders curled in on you somehow protected you. 

“Are you sure? I only ask because you, um, you make a lot of those little jokes and innuendos and I… I wanna make sure you’re not trying to drop me a hint.” Bucky took a cautious step toward you. And then another. Until his feet rested only millimeters from yours. 

You rolled your eyes- but not at him. “I’m fine- sorry, babe. This has nothing to do with you. It’s just…” you sighed. A fire raged beneath your words that burned only you. “It’s this thing I do. This really annoying thing. Well, annoying to me”. You laughed a dark, broken laugh. Something was off.

Bucky decided not to poke or pry. He simply took the spot next to you want waited. If you wanted to elaborate, he’d listen. And if you didn’t, he’d be there just in case. But something sinister floated around in your mind. He could see it rippling. And he wanted to be there for you when it breached the surface.

“All of this sexual humor? All of the nudes I send and my near constant attempts to jump your bones? That’s what you’re referring to, right?” 

He nodded.  

Another eye roll. You couldn’t believe it was happening again. Well, you could believe it- you just wished it wasn’t true. How many times had you been through this? How many years did you work on trying to eliminate your stupid habit? You didn’t care if your therapist called it a “coping mechanism”- it made you cringe, and you hated yourself for doing it.

“It’s a stupid holdover from my ex- well, my most of my exes.”

Bucky wasn’t quite following. He stared at you with an unsure look and about a million questions rattling around in his head. But he didn’t know what to ask first. You were clearly upset, clearly troubled by whatever happened in those past relationships with shitty men who didn’t deserve you. And he didn’t want to upset you further. 

Bucky was in the dark. He saw no issue, had no problem with your suggestive sense of humor. And he didn’t quite understand why you’d be so upset about whatever little habit you carried with you- especially when work was slowly devouring your soul. He saw the evidence of your hellish schedule written all over your face. He saw the way you had to practically drag your body out of bed each morning, the way you pounded coffees and energy drinks just to get through the day. Why was this the moment in which your insecurity caught up with you?

“I’m sorry, doll. I think I’m confused,” he said. “I’m not really sure what’s going on.”

“I’ve never dated anyone who made me feel loved,” you blurted out. “Except for you.”

Bucky still wasn’t sure where this was going, but he knew he hated your exes.

“No one I dated in the past cared for me or prioritized me. None of them ever made me feel secure- I was never quite sure where I stood, you know? Their affections were always so hit or miss. Like, they’d give me a ton of love and attention for a few days, and then spend weeks treating me like I didn’t matter.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say or how to fix whatever damage your past relationships did to you. But he knew you were tired- mentally and physically. And so he did the only thing he could think of- he picked you up and set you down on the cozy couch cushions. He ordered dinner. He got you a tea. And he let you talk.

“I always felt unsure, you know? I didn’t know how any of these guys actually felt about me. Or if they even felt anything for me at all. One guy actually kept me a secret from everyone in his life- he wouldn’t even talk to me in public…”

A concoction of heartbreak and rage flooded Bucky’s consciousness. How could anyone treat you that way?

“Anyway, there was one thing I knew they’d respond positively to- one thing they wouldn’t ignore.” You dropped your gaze down to your mug, too embarrassed to look Bucky in the eye. “When I felt them slipping or noticed their affection for me dwindling, I knew I could use sex to renew their interest in me.” 

The living room sat silent. Bucky stared at you, and you stared at your tea. You watched the tendrils of steam wafting off the surface and into the air as though it were your job. If you didn’t look at Bucky, if you kept your focus elsewhere, maybe he wouldn’t notice your damage. 

Part of you was perfectly fine stopping the story there. It would preserve what little dignity you had left, what fraction of respect Bucky still held for you. But the other part needed you to spill your guts. You were so depleted. So tired of putting on a façade. 

“I mean, the first few boyfriends I had actually admitted to me after we broke up that they only wanted me for sex- that they only got into a relationship with me so they could be the only one fucking me.” Your eyes remained downcast. “I’ve just been with so many people who made me feel like I had to earn their affection. And so, over the years, I just- I don’t know…”

You shared the silence for a moment before Bucky offered his help, “You got used to it?”

You nodded. “I accepted that I’m just a- that they saw me as an object. That my feelings and  needs don’t matter. And I know it’s pathetic that I stayed with any of those guys for longer than five minutes. But I’m so-” Your tear-filled eyes finally met Bucky’s. “I’m so desperate to be loved. Or, I was. And now, I have you. And I know you love me- you show me everyday just how much you care about me. But I’ve never been treated like this before… it’s unfamiliar territory, I guess. All I know is secret parking lot hook-ups and feeling like I have to give someone my body as payment for love.”

Being this vulnerable, this raw and exposed, made your hands shake. Of course, you trusted Bucky with your past and with your heart. But showing him your shame and imperfections made you cringe. You feared you were supplying him with ammo, with reasons to treat you poorly. To leave. 

But he didn’t see you any different- he simply wished he’d found you sooner. Wished he could’ve saved you some heartbreak. He extended a hand and welcomed you into his arms. He held you close. And he listened without judgement. 

“I don’t know how to handle consistent love. And I feel like… I’m afraid the other shoe is gonna drop any minute. Like a switch is gonna flip and you’ll pull away from me without warning. And I’ll have to win you over again.” 

Bucky’s grip around you intensified. As though, if he wrapped his arms around you tight enough, he could transfer his love via osmosis. 

 “So I try to keep your interest with sex,” you said, you’re voice falling. “I try to make you want me.”

“Even when you’re exhausted…”

You nodded.

Knowing that the two of you’d had sex when you weren’t completely and totally into it made him nauseous. He knew what it felt like for others to have control of his body. He knew how uncomfortable and dehumanized it made him feel. And he hated that, more likely than not, you’d felt that way with him. Even if it only happened once, it was too many times.

Bucky’s silence made you nervous. He was probably mad- or hurt- by what you’d said. And you instantly regretted all of it. “Don’t get me wrong- the sex we have is perfect. It’s not like anything I’ve ever had and I pretty much wanna get in your pants the second I see you.” The familiar light returned to your eyes for just a moment, but the glimmer faded just as quickly as it appeared. “But sometimes I find myself forcing my own hand- even when I can barely stay awake- because I still feel like I have to fight for the love of the man I’m with.”

Bucky wanted to kill every man who’d ever hurt you, every man who’d ever made you doubt your value. “I want you, doll. Always. You don’t have to fight for anything with me,” he took the mug from your hands and placed it on the coffee table before turning you around and taking your face in his hands. “And, yeah, the sex is great. But I’m just happy to be near you. To spend time with you. This-” he said, sweeping his thumbs over your cheeks, “this is all I want. To be close to you. To take care of you.”

You let your eyes fall closed for a moment as the words sunk in. You took his hands in yours and grounded yourself in his touch. After all this time, you finally got what you wanted. The reassurance, the validation. And you knew he was telling the truth. But the nagging in your chest forbade you from believing him. You had half a mind to grind your hips against his and attach your lips to his neck. But before you could act on your impulse, Bucky spoke.

“You’ve been dealing with this for a long time. I don’t expect you to just stop out of nowhere. It’s a coping mechanism- a way of protecting yourself.”

It’s like he read your mind.

“But I want you to put yourself first, doll. Okay? When you’re tired, when you have a headache, when you don’t feel like having sex- for whatever reason- it’s okay. It’s more than okay. I don’t ever want you doing something you don’t want to do. You have me, okay? I’m yours.” 

You shook your head- sure, that was easy for him to say now. “But you’re used to us having a lot of sex. You’re used to me being ready and willing twenty four-seven. What if you-”

“Baby… hey,” he once again cupped your face. It stopped your spiral, your anxious ramblings. Wild ‘what ifs’ invaded your brain and trampled everything Bucky said, every assurance he gave. But he was determined to make you understand. “My feelings for you are never going to dwindle or falter. Ever. I swear on my life that I’ll always want you. I’ll love you until I die- and even after that. We didn’t meet and immediately jump into bed together. We spent months just enjoying each other’s company. And even then, when I wasn’t even sure if anything was gonna happen between us, I just wanted to spend time with you.”

He sensed uncertainty in your eyes, “doll, if we never had sex again, I’d still be here. I’d still want you.”

Finally, after a night of doom and gloom, he got you to laugh. 

“Yeah, sure, Buck-”

“I’m serious!” he said, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. “Obviously, I don’t think either one of us wants to forego sex completely…”

You gave him a vehement shake of your head. He laughed at your dramatics.

“But if, for whatever reason, we put a full embargo on sex- I’d still be here. I promise. Because I love you, and all that matters to me is your happiness. Okay?”

A knock at the door startled both of you. It pulled you out of the world of past-trauma and heartbreak and threw you into the present. Shit- you were hungry. Starving. And your head pounded from exhaustion and dehydration. 

“That’s the food!” Bucky lifted you from his lap before replacing you on the couch and running for the door. He paid the delivery driver and returned to you with a bag so full you feared the bottom might split. “I got everything: the pasta and garlic bread you like, a chicken parmesan, a lasagna, and two slices of their dark chocolate cake.”

You stared at him with wide eyes and a growling stomach. “We feeding an army?”

“Well, no. But I know you probably haven’t eaten since breakfast…”

You nodded, and Bucky threw his head back with a groan. “Doll! You promised me you’d make sure to break during the day for lunch, and- you know, that’s a conversation for another time. Let’s get you fed and into bed. Okay?”

You watched Bucky unpack the food and spread the dishes out across the coffee table. He got plates, silverware, and drinks before putting on your favorite episode of New Girl. He took care of you. He was the person your family always promised you’d find. The person your friends told you to wait for. The person you swore didn’t exist. But he was real, and he was yours. And he loved you more than you ever thought possible.

————————

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mrsdrysdale18 @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @duchessoftheheart @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @masteroflightningz @evangeliamerryll @god-ofthunder @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi

[barnesify]

enchanted ୨୧ winterspider abo

author’s note; this took about two months of procrastination and here we are. please let me know if you would like a part two to this, because i have several ideas!

“walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy, vanished when i saw your face. all i can say is it was enchanting to meet you.”

read on ao3!

These dances always made Bucky itch with annoyance. As the Rogers bodyguard, his only role was to stand on the sidelines and watch the attendees dance and flirt and flutter among the ballroom.

The ballroom always became hot and crowded with the endless amount of people, especially all the big flouncy dresses the many omegas were wearing. It caused Bucky’s brow to sweat and his 3 piece suit that King Rogers had insisted his guard wear to become tight.

Bucky was the King’s most valuable asset, what with Bucky’s trained hand and ability. He had become close with the King, not unprofessional, almost like brothers of some sort. He knew a lot about the evening he had planned for tonight.

Like the fact that King Stark would come from afar to sign a peace treaty.

That’s what the entire ball was about. Though King Rogers loved to host dances and celebrations, this one was of actual importance to their kingdom’s safety.

Another thing he had heard on goers and servants whisper about before was not just King Stark, but his omega son, Peter. Bucky had rolled his eyes. What was so important about this kid? Yes, he was a princess, but it’s not like he hung the moon in the sky or anything.

He almost had to stop himself from snorting when someone mentioned him being able to talk to animals or the fact that he always smelled of roses. How ridiculous.

Bucky found himself in a comfortable stance as he surveyed the crowded ballroom. King Stark was seated next to King Rogers, and the two were chattering lively over goblets of expensive wine.

One thing about being a bodyguard is that after a short period of standing, your muscles begin to ache. Luckily, Bucky had been doing this for so long that his body had became used to the feeling. Though, his body became antsy. The worst part about being a young alpha is the fact that you’re never really tired. Always on the lookout for predators, always wondering when your next meal will be, always…

Bucky straightened back up and caught a glance at Clint, the other bodyguard that he worked closely with. Clint gave him a raised brow, before Bucky simply shrugged and leaned over to whisper (Though the ball was rowdy enough that whispering wasn’t really necessary,) “I’m going to go freshen up. You good here?”

Clint rolled his eyes but simply nodded. “Don’t let His Highness catch you out of your station.”

Bucky sighed but walked forward anyway. He just needed to use the bathroom for a moment. Wipe his face, splash some water. The evening had only just begun.

As Bucky began his way across the ball, he uncharacteristically halted to a stop when he noticed someone in the crowd. A man— no, a boy. Or maybe a young man in the crowd. Bucky immediately noticed that he was an omega. Not that male omegas weren’t normal, they just weren’t horribly common.

Then, one after the other, he noticed things. First, he noticed how the boy was talking to someone. An alpha, Bucky noted, senses slightly heightened. The omega seemed to be smiling, albeit a little too wide to be comfortable with a drink in his hand. Second, his dress was smaller. Still to his ankles, but not as big and poofy as many of the omegas here were wearing. Last, the omega had fixated his gaze off the whoever-the-fuck alpha and on him.

Like a siren, Bucky drifted deeper into the crowd.

“Have we met?” The boy smiled once Bucky was close enough to hear him. He was gorgeous, Bucky thought to himself.

The alpha looked, dumbfounded, at this little omega. He must have only been around 5’4, and with Bucky standing at a whopping 6’2, he practically craned over the little thing.

Bucky anxiously scratched at his scent patch, a mandatory setback with working at the palace. His alpha hormones could go out of wack with how many people he worked with on a day to day basis.

The boy eyed the patch and if he cared, he didn’t show it. Instead he blinked and tilted his head to wait for an answer.

Bucky gulped and shook his head quickly. “I believe we have not,” He said and bowed, “You’re not apart of my King’s court. I would know. That’s why I…” Noticed you.

The brown haired omega (Bucky just registered that he was brunette) simply giggled and held out his hand. “Since you’re all knowing, I’d expect that you know how to dance?”

In a perfect reality, Bucky would be an amazing dancer and he would show off his skills to this wonderful little omega that the gods had blessed him with tonight. Unfortunately, the world wasn’t perfect.

“I do,” Bucky lied, “But not very well.” He said with a hint of truth.

“It’s fun.” The boy said, “Don’t worry, I’ll guide you.”

Bucky took the omega’s hand with a surge of that built in alpha confidence and even though Bucky had two left feet, he let himself go and followed along with the boy’s steps. Within the couple of minutes that the song took, Bucky studied his features.

Fluffy brown curls that fell past his chocolate brown eyes. Pale skin with little dotted freckles along his cheeks. Pink lips. Long lashes. Button nose. A faint smell of flowers.

“You never told me your name.” Bucky said as he leaned down to kiss the back of the boy’s hand.

“You never told me yours either.” The omega giggled softly. “It is impolite though.. my name’s—“

A loud voice boomed throughout the crowd. “Peter Benjamin Stark!” Everyone fell silent and the orchestra paused their music.

The omega.. (Peter?) turned to look in the direction of the voice, his scent switching from calm to annoyed in a millisecond.

King Rogers caught Bucky’s eye and the alpha flushed embarrassedly.

King Stark made his way through the crowd with something quite shiny in his hand. He then rolled his eyes at the still crowd. “As you were. This is between me and my son.”

The lump in Bucky’s throat didn’t leave as Peter dropped his hand and turned to face his father. This omega was King Stark’s son? He couldn’t believe it. Him, a bodyguard, had danced with a member of the royal family. King Rogers would fire him without fail.

“How many times have I told you to wear your crown in public, Peter?” Bucky could see now that King Stark was holding Peter’s dainty little crown. The thing was adorned with the finest jewels and Bucky realized that it was probably worth more than his own life.

“But daddy, I—“

“How many times?” King Stark’s voice was stern but still fond. Fatherly.

“A lot.” Peter frowned and hung his head embarrassedly. He took the crown from the man’s hand and shoved it on top of his curls clumsily.

Bucky had the urge to fix it for him but he realized that that would be crossing several lines, even for him.

“People need to know of your importance, Peter. Imagine if someone accidentally bumped into you? They would have no clue who they were hurting. I should not have to lecture you in front of two hundred people, and in front of King Rogers’ court,” He gently placed his hands on Peter’s arms and sighed, “Seeing as we’ll be staying here in the palace for the week, we must make a good impression. You must be on your best—“

Peter cut him off and finished his sentence. “Behavior. Yes, I know, dad.”

“Now, who’s this?” King Stark turned to Bucky.

Bucky realized that he had been standing idly for the entire conversation. He swallowed and bowed to the King swiftly, sweating slightly. This could be the end of his job. Or his life. Same thing.

“Oh!” Peter bursted excitedly, turning to look at Bucky before looking at Tony once more. “This is—“ He cut himself off before frowning. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name. What’s your name?”

“Sergeant James Barnes, your Highness. King Rogers’ bodyguard. I am so sorry if I did anything to offend your status or crown. I didn’t know that Peter— Princess Peter was your son.” Still bowing, Tony looked down at the man.

“You may stand. Peter. Did he hurt you?”

“N—no, daddy! We just danced, you do this every time!” Peter groaned and shook his head wildly.

“Just looking out for you, pet. Come, let’s not make a fool of ourselves on the dance floor. James, please, follow. I’m sure King Rogers will have a lot to deal with considering you were out of your station.”

King Rogers had told King Stark that he would like to have a conversation between the four of them in private, which meant that it was another two agonizing hours of standing, watching, waiting. Feeling bile in his throat at the idea of losing his job.

Worst of all, Peter was not allowed to dance for the rest of the night. He sat next to his father, looking pretty but utmostly bored. Bucky felt a twang of sympathy and guilt in his chest.

and two hours later— finally, finally, the ball was over. People were leaving, guests were bidding the Kings goodnight.

Bucky was shaking with anxiety.

Clint patted his back as they walked back into the common room where the Kings and Peter had resided. “It’s alright, man. I’m sure it’ll just be a strict talking to.”

Bucky wasn’t quite as sure as Clint.

[deadpresidents]

Has there ever been a time when we haven't had a vice president?

John Adams was sworn in as our first Vice President in 1789 and in the 234 years since then, we've gone without a VP for 37 years and 290 days.

Until the ratification of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment, there was no mechanism for filling a vacancy in the Vice Presidency, so in several instances we've gone almost entire Presidential terms without a Vice President.

7 Vice Presidents Died In Office: •George Clinton (Jefferson's second VP & Madison's first VP), died April 20, 1812, leaving the Vice Presidency vacant for 318 days. •Elbridge Gerry (Madison's second VP), died November 23, 1814, leaving a vacancy for 2 years, 101 days. •William Rufus DeVane King (Pierce's VP), died April 18, 1853, leaving a vacancy for 3 years, 320 days. •Henry Wilson (Grant's second VP), died November 22, 1875, leaving a vacancy for 1 year, 102 days. •Thomas A. Hendricks (Cleveland's first VP), died November 24, 1885, leaving a vacancy for 3 years, 99 days. •Garret A. Hobart (McKinley's first VP), died November 21, 1899, leaving a vacancy for 1 year, 103 days. •James S. Sherman (Taft's VP), died October 30, 1912, leaving a vacancy for 125 days.

2 Vice Presidents Resigned: •John C. Calhoun (VP under John Quincy Adams and Jackson's first VP), resigned on December 28, 1832, leaving a vacancy for 66 days. •Spiro Agnew (Nixon's first VP), resigned on October 10, 1973, leaving a vacancy for 57 days.

9 Vice Presidents Succeeded to the Presidency: •John Tyler (William Henry Harrison's VP), assumed office upon President Harrison's death on April 4, 1841, leaving a VP vacancy for 3 years, 333 days. •Millard Fillmore (Taylor's VP), assumed office upon President Taylor's death on July 9, 1850, leaving a VP vacancy for 2 years, 238 days. •Andrew Johnson (Lincoln's second VP), assumed office upon President Lincoln's death on April 15, 1865, leaving a VP vacancy for 3 years, 323 days. •Chester Arthur (Garfield's VP), assumed office upon President Garfield's death on September 19, 1881, leaving a VP vacancy for 3 years, 166 days. •Theodore Roosevelt (McKinley's second VP), assumed office upon President McKinley's death on September 14, 1901, leaving a VP vacancy for 3 years, 171 days. •Calvin Coolidge (Harding's VP), assumed office upon President Harding's death on August 2, 1923, leaving a VP vacancy for 1 year, 214 days. •Harry S. Truman (FDR's third VP), assumed office upon President Roosevelt's death on April 12, 1945, leaving a VP vacancy for 3 years, 283 days. •Lyndon B. Johnson (JFK's VP), assumed office upon President Kennedy's death on November 22, 1963, leaving a VP vacancy for 1 year, 59 days. •Gerald Ford (Nixon's second VP), assumed office upon President Nixon's resignation on August 9, 1974, leaving a VP vacancy for 132 days.

Only two Vice Presidential vacancies have been filled under the provisions of the 25th Amendment. Gerald Ford was appointed to the Vice Presidency by President Nixon following Spiro Agnew's resignation in October 1973 and was confirmed by Congress in December 1973 (a nominee to fill a Vice Presidential vacancy must be confirmed separately by a majority vote of both chambers of Congress). On August 9, 1974, Nixon resigned as President and Ford succeeded to the White House, leaving the Vice Presidency vacant for the second time in less than a year. President Ford nominated Nelson Rockefeller as Vice President on August 20 and he was confirmed by Congress in December 1974.

[transflynnscifo]

i think the skills in vesperia dont get enough love because if you start going through them, yoy may quickly notice that quite a LOT of them end up being indicative of not only the playstyle of a certain character, but also some their personality or how they act (short ramble under cut)

patty is especially a fun example of it with the amount of skills that boost or change chances of different outcomes her random-effect artes may have. or also boosting different party members in different ways based on (presumably) things she perceives about them or what she has in common with them. F to all the girls being lumped into 1 skill though AAAAAA I WISH WE HAD THEM SEPARATED LIKE THE GUYS--

raven has skills like vacance that show him not taking many battles seriously and usually not "putting in the work". also quite a few of them boost his performance with a bow or even his attacks hitting differently depending on how close-ranged he is to the enemy when hes using his bow

karol has a skill like Play dead that restores tp and/or hp while he remains downed On Purpose and Coward that make escaping battles easier. on the other hand other skills also build him to hit as hard as he can despite his low speed in battle

rita has quite a few skills that correspond as counter measures to being interrupted mid-casting ir otherwise speeding up her cast. this is also apparent when you use her in overlimit but it feels as if at some point she just wants to get the spell out faster than the chant for it would allow her to

repede is resourceful with the several skills that allow you to use one magic lense per battle or use 1 item and it applying to the whole party (and more!)

estelle has quite a number of skills that specifically raise her chances to defend herself or otherwise not go down by ko so easily (like recovering hp without an arte being used)

many of judiths are aerial but it fits given as shes spent a lot of time flying with ba'ul. she enjoys being in the sky/mid-air. theres also one that makes enemies confused when she taunts

flynn has a lot that require other party members to remain near him as doing that either boosts defences, casting time, recovery, or flynn sttaigjt up soaking up some of yhe damage that wasnt meant for him. yuri-related skills are also pretty funny

and finally, yuri has a number of skills that push combo usage and high hits, but there are quite a few that indicate boosts depending on whether hes doing it alone. one man show is for when he beats enemies singlehandedly and loner is for when hes the Last One Standing

not to mention the clash between the "Assassin" (yuri) vs "Hero" (flynn) :)

[p3ski]

Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Masterlist

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: A lot has changed since the revolution. Crimes against androids are now being treated with greater severity, with many being subject to the same penalties as crimes against humans. While anti-android attitudes are on the decline, transforming the mindset of an entire city is no simple task.

A reluctant Gavin Reed and his new partner RK900 have been assigned to investigate a string of disturbing murders. Despite the shift in Detroit's social climate, Gavin still holds reservations about whether or not androids are truly alive. Will his developing feelings for 'Nines' prompt a shift in perspective?

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Smut

Word Count: 3.8K

With the report of the events that had taken place received by the higher DPD officials, Nines' behaviour had been formally classified. Gavin caught a glimpse of it on Fowler’s monitor when he was called in to make his statement: 

Employee Classification: Android.

Model: RK900.

Incident Type: Software Malfunction - Moderate. 

Suggested Action(s): Performance Review.

Given the gravity of what had occurred, it seemed a massive understatement, and unfairly dismissive. A sign that the system had not fully reformed its treatment of android employees, with language that harkened back to pre-revolution days. 

At the very least, the captain seemed to agree that the official ruling was somewhat short-sighted, acting swiftly in ordering a welfare check. Had Nines been human, the situation would likely be received with a much greater degree of compassion. His actions in the lead-up to Gavin's assault comparable to a psychological breakdown. 

Gavin felt close to one himself, staring through his sleep-deprived haze at the vacant chair at the end of his desk. A gentle voice broke through to him as a hand rested reassuringly on his shoulder. "Gav, you shouldn't be here right now. I can see how tired you are."

Tina had graciously allowed him to spend the night at hers. The gesture had been appreciated, as the thought of going home alone after what had happened had proved unbearable. Despite the security her presence provided, he'd not been able to sleep. Closed eyes conjured nothing but images of Nines' face. A frantic, disordered sequence of disturbed mania, detached vacancy, and fearful anguish. Replaying endlessly in his mind like a twisted slideshow.

"Why don't you go and see Fowler? Get him to sign you off for the rest of the day," Tina thoughtfully suggested. "You were injured on duty, after all." 

As Gavin continued to ruminate, his head pulsed with the twin rhythms of a steady migraine and the wound carved into the back. He cupped it gently, and it burned at the contact—another nagging reminder of the previous day's events. Glancing up at the station clock, he glowered grimly at the time shown:

"Twenty-four hours. It's been twenty-four hours since we last saw him."

Tina seemed more than a little perturbed but persisted in her attempts to lift her friend's spirits. "Tell you what. I’ll give you my keys. Head back to mine, and you can borrow my slanket." She gave his shoulder a firm nudge but with no actual weight behind it. "I swear I won't even be mad if you eat the rest of my pizza. As long as you promise to get some rest." 

"I won't be able to rest" Gavin balled hands into his dishevelled hair, dangerously close to pulling out in large clumps. "Not until they find him."

"Hey, have some faith in your colleagues.You've got Detroit's Okayest Officers on this."

Gavin didn't laugh at the joke, causing Tina's smile to falter. With added severity, she leaned closer, hugging herself to the back of his chair but stopping shy of an actual embrace. The detective had never been the cuddly sort, of which she was acutely aware. "No one is going to stop looking, not until we've found him—but you torturing yourself like this won't change anything." 

"I can't fucking help it, I just keep thinking."

"Well, there's your problem."

"I keep thinking—" he persisted, shooting her an sour look. "What if he doesn't come back?"

Tina seemed to take a moment to consider the possibility before shaking her head in reassurance. "Nines doesn't seem like the reckless type. I doubt he's skipped town or anything." 

"He wasn't acting like himself. Who the Hell knows what he might do?" His head drooped limply over his desk as he lost all energy to hold it upright. "He said he'd been 'compromised'. What does that mean?"

"I don't know, that seems like an android-coded question." 

"But it can't be good, right?"

"I could ask Jasmine?" Tina suggested, in an apparent attempt to be constructive. "She's my friend at Reception. The ST300."

Gavin was less than amenable to the suggestion. "The one you hooked up with at the Christmas party? This is serious.”

"Hey, I never said that we hooked up. I said that I don't kiss and tell," Tina held up her hands defensively. "and I am being serious. All I'm saying is that maybe 'compromised' is not as bad as it sounds." 

"He rebooted, Ti. How is that not bad?"

"Could be quite normal for androids?" she suggested optimistically. "He'd just had a big emotional shock, what with the other RK900. Maybe it was just a blip." 

While Gavin knew the comment had been well-intentioned, he couldn't help but bristle at the wording. "It wasn't a blip. It had been going on for hours. It was like he was slowly breaking down from the moment he got that dispatch call."

Realising that her friend seemed determined to deflect any and all attempts at reassurance, Tina finally relented. She gave Gavin's shoulder one final, reassuring squeeze before slowly pulling away. 

"If you really don't want to rest, at the very least, let me get you a coffee." Turning towards the canteen, she gave him a parting glance over the shoulder, and gestured with her head towards his workstation. "Wait here, okay?"

In her absence, Gavin continued to rack his brains for any details that may prove significant in locating his partner. Consideration was made for every agonising word he'd uttered, trying to determine if they held any answers. 

Tina may have been correct in her suggestion that this was an android-specific issue. Consulting an android officer was likely his best bet, but it would need to be someone who knew Nines, at least on a rudimentary level. Enough to know where he might retreat in a time of psychological crisis. 

Wait. Gavin shot up, cursing his exhausted mind for not determining the answer sooner. Connor. That little rat.

His partner's predecessor clearly knew more than he was letting on, made evident by the warning he had imparted to Gavin just a couple of days prior:

"Nines mustn't experience any undue emotional stress. I ask that you not push him too much." 

Gavin stormed through the precinct, a newfound target in mind. Rage was building fast, coiling in his stomach like a hissing viper. He found the android by his usual station, at the desk conjoining Anderson's. He was pacing about aimlessly, head dipped and LED signalling a marked level of distress. The detective felt no empathy for this, proceeding undeterred in his heated march.

"You", he hissed viciously, levying a pointed finger at his coworker. 

Connor was startled from his dissociative state and looked up with panicked eyes to see who had addressed him. Locking onto the detective, his troubled expression became more frenzied. He dashed forward, grabbing the man firmly by the forearms. 

"Gavin, please tell me you've heard from him", he babbled. "I have tried to make contact several times, but he has blocked our communication channel. He has never done this before, I'm—" 

Gavin lunged forward, snarling, as he balled his hands into the front of his shirt. He shoved the android back, propelling him into a nearby wall and pinning him against it. The android made no attempt to break his hold, appearing too shocked to do so.

"You knew this would happen." He pulled Connor forward before slamming him back, watching as his head ricocheted against the sturdy surface. "And you fucked me around, letting me think it was jealousy. You didn't tell me that 'pushing' Nines would blow a fuse in his fucking brain."

Connor seemed to recover some of his lost composure in the wake of the heightened stakes. He tightened his grip on Gavin’s arms in a defensive gesture. "I am sorry. I wanted to say more, but he wouldn’t have liked me to." 

"Well, he isn't here." He pulled Connor back again before letting go, resulting in another slam. "So start talking. Right now. Or I swear I'll finish what we started in that Archive Room."

A flash of recollection crossed the android's eyes at the events the man was referring to. There was a subtle twitch of his lips, like the ghost of a smug smile, before it disappeared.

"I didn't think there would be another RK900. If I'd ever known there would ever be a situation where he would have—to be reminded of—" The android stalled, his mouth twitching unnaturally as he wrestled to get his words out. "He never wanted to be here, this job. I was the one who suggested he put himself forward. I thought it would be good for him."

The aimless ramblings rewarded him with a sharp smack across the face. The android's head snapped back with inhuman fluidity, bringing attention to how utterly pointless the action had been. There was no sense in striking someone who was incapable of feeling pain. Still, Gavin was willing to try, unable to see sense through the blinding mist of rage.

"Nines has seen plenty of mangled androids. I know it doesn’t make a difference to you, seeing your face. You don't think about it the same way we do. So what the fuck made this one so special?" 

Connor paused again, looking increasingly uncomfortable. His grip tightened further as he finally appeared ready to push Gavin away. "I need Hank. Let me find him." 

"Oh no, you're not calling on Anderson to come and bail you out." Gavin increased the pressure until their bodies were almost entirely flush. The pressure crushed against his chest, and his words came hissed through laboured breaths. "Did he know him? The RK900? Is that why he was so fucked up?"

"He didn't know him. He couldn't have." 

"How can you be so sure?" 

Connor stared fixedly ahead with a look that was both hollow and stricken. His voice, barely audible, trembled softly as he posed a chilling query. "Have you ever met another RK900? Had you ever even seen one before yesterday?" 

The question landed like a blow, leaving Gavin stunned. "No." 

"There's a reason for that." The gentle tremble in his voice persisted, his pale face blanketed by a flickering red. "Nines didn't know there were others, neither did I." 

"That doesn't make any sense. He's not a unique model; there will be thousands of others!" 

"Other models remain…intact…but they are dormant. Locked in warehouses across Detroit." 

The words ignited something in the recesses of Gavin's unfurling mind. Biting words that had been levied at Nines by the old man outside of Mikey’s Electronics. The comment he had made on his face. He had seen a warehouse on the news, filled with androids sharing that face. 

His simmering anger hastily spread into a raging inferno. The thought that Nines, his Nines, could have been abandoned in some warehouse. Left to remain forever dormant and ultimately forgotten. "So why don't they go and get them? Your friend, the one from the Revolution." 

"Markus."

"Yeah, him and the rest of his buddies. Why would they just leave them there?" The words were heavy with accusation as disgust curdled in his stomach. "Seems like they’ve saved every bastard else." 

"They can't, Gavin."

"Why not?"

"They tried before...once." There was a weighty pause that broke the sentence. One that did nothing to quell Gavin’s unfurling nerves. "They can't go back for the others. The risk is too high."

"What could be so bad that they're willing to leave them to rust?"

Connor fell silent again as though caught in the grip of some deep-repressed trauma. His haunted eyes told the story of some terrible, abhorrent reality that was entirely beyond articulation. 

"Jesus, what happened…?" The muttered question tapered off as his grip on the captive android slackened. 

With the freedom to move once more, Connor subtly readjusted his skewed tie. "We need to get through to Nines", he stressed. "Our connection permits me to track his movements, but with his channels closed off, it only allows for a limited range. He has gone somewhere he knows I can't see." 

“I shouldn't have gotten angry." Gavin cursed under his breath, too drained to suppress the forlorn lament. "I'm so fucking stupid."

There was no doubt that grabbing Nines had been the tipping point. The action that broke his partner’s resolve. If something terrible, potentially irreversible, had happened to him, it would be his own fault. 

There was no sense wallowing in hypotheticals, however. Gavin knew he needed to stay strong if he hoped to bring his partner back to him.

"This tracker: When you say 'limited range', how far does it spread?"

"Approximately 500 feet."

He snorted contemptuously at the underwhelming figure. "What fucking use is that? That doesn't even reach my—" His words trailed off abruptly as a rogue speculation ensnared his mind. "Oh shit. I think I know where he is."

Gavin charged forward, out of the station, and into the torrential downpour outside. His body felt weak with aches of exhaustion, but his mind remained focused. Arriving outside his apartment complex, he dashed past the broken elevator and towards a winding metal staircase, heading for the fourth floor.

Numb hands fumbled wildly inside his pockets until they found his keys. His grip was inhibited as he helplessly dithered to turn the lock, and when it finally clicked free, he slammed the door open with such ferocity that it dented the wall. 

Upon realisation that the action may have compromised his security deposit, he shut the door and made a note to assess the damage later. There were more pressing matters at hand.  

"Nines?"

He was greeted by silence, as his frantic eyes darted across the empty living room. Ignoring the now searing pain that permeated his legs, he took off for the bedroom and peered inside. Empty.

The bathroom was next, which really should have been the first point of call. If Nines was in the apartment, then there was only one place that he'd realistically want to be. Upon stepping into the room, he found it filled with its usual occupants. The kittens were snuggled against their mother, as gentle purrs echoed out. There was no one else that accompanied them.

Having lost the will to continue his search, Gavin conceded to the weight of his exhaustion, and sank weakly to his knees. Frustration stung his eyes, and he pushed it back with the heel of his palm. 

He's not here. 

Why would he be? 

Then he heard a noise—a distant shuffle, coming from his kitchen. As his hope rekindled, he pulled himself up and hurriedly marched toward the sound. 

The android stood at one of the counters, his back turned towards him:

"You keep a spare key under your mat", he said plainly. "That is hardly a secure practice. Had I realised sooner, I could have avoided my excursion up your fire escape." 

"Nines." The name was ripped from his lips as a pained gasp. “Holy shit, where have you been? Everyone's been worried sick."

"I have been here for quite some time." Nines continued to busy himself with some unseen task, not bothering to glance up. "I apologise if my presence is unwelcome. I could hear Tiffany crying from outside, and I was concerned for her wellbeing."

The android turned, revealing a replenished pet bowl in his hand. As he zoned in on his partner, a newfound concern etched his face. 

"You're drenched."

Gavin looked down at the damp material that clung uncomfortably to his body. "Well, yeah, I would be. It's a monsoon outside."

"Your body temperature is low, and your immune response at risk of becoming compromised." The worry was delivered with measured formality as he completed a scan of his partner's vitals. "I suggest you change immediately." 

"What happened yesterday?" Gavin demanded, swiftly deflecting the concerns. "Are you okay?"

Nines' lips tightened into a tense line. He looked to the bowl before placing it down in subdued resignation. "My systems have stabilised. For now. I believe this state is tenuous; I have no idea how long it will last."

"Oh my God, can you just give me a straight answer for once?" The detective's mouth pulled into a joyless sneer as he barked out a sharp laugh. "I don't know how much more I can take of this fucking mystery act."

"It is a matter that needn’t concern you. Now, or ever again. I am leaving the DPD." 

Gavin's laboured breathing stilled as he stared his partner down in cold accusation. "...Nines, this is a really shitty time to start cracking jokes." 

The android stared back, his grey eyes steady and resolute. Betraying no hint of hyperbole or exaggeration. 

"You can’t be serious." There was an uncomfortable feeling of tightness that gripped his neck. "They can't fire you. We're in the middle of an investigation. We're so close." 

"My departure would be by my own choice," Nines swiftly clarified. "I have realised that my presence at the precinct may be putting others at undue risk."

"Since when are you putting anyone at risk?"

The stern facade crumbled, revealing all the harboured sentiment hidden behind Nines' detached words. "I hurt you. I cannot allow something like that to happen again."

"So what? You're not the first person to fuck up like that. Just today, I roughed up Connor, thinking he'd know where you were."

Nines' crestfallen expression tapered, morphing into a look of surprise, followed shortly by exasperation. Gavin, becoming aware of his mistake, tried to mitigate. 

"I mean, not 'roughed up' roughed up. I pinned him to a wall and smacked him around a bit." Gavin winced at his own clumsy wording, realising the myriad of ways the statement could be misinterpreted. “He's fine. The point is, you lost your temper. I do that all the time. I'm not going to hold it against you."

"This is different", Nines explained, his voice filled with a palpable turmoil. "It is not simply a case of losing my temper. I am dangerous. Unstable." 

Gavin dismissed the notion with a harsh snort. "Oh, come on. You might make out like you're some big scary Terminator, but I've seen the other side of you. I know you're more than that." 

"Am I? How could you possibly know when I have no idea?"

The room echoed with the lingering boom of Nines' impassioned words before a tense hush settled.

"...You have no idea what I was designed to be. The sort of monster I am." 

"Who gives a shit what you were designed to be?" Gavin hissed back, "Remember what you said before? About self-improvement? Maybe you should apply some of that to yourself." 

"I cannot change. I am bound to my programme."

"Bullshit. We wouldn't be having this conversation if you were just a machine." 

"Can never be enough—A fool to think otherwise—" His sentences became clipped, echoing the previous day's pattern. 

Panic gripped Gavin as he felt a urgent need to snap Nines out of his volatile state. "Look, I don't know what's making you talk like that. God knows your brother wasn't willing to tell me—but I do know a thing or two about not feeling like you're enough."

He had succeeded in his attempt to break through. The android's eyes widened in alarm, as he seemed to realise the man's intentions. "You don't need to do this."

"Well, I want to. So shut up and listen." With a shaky breath through clenched teeth, Gavin steeled himself to continue. "My whole life, it always felt like my dad was the only person who ever believed in me, and after he died, I tried so fucking hard to change that." 

His voice was thick and strained. He paused, taking a moment to compose himself. 

"Just before we met, I was at the point of giving up. I don't know what finally did it, maybe it was my shithead boyfriend leaving. Or maybe I just realised that nothing I do will ever be good enough—because no matter what, I'll always be living in his shadow." 

"Elijah Kamski."

Gavin gaped back in surprise, wondering how long Nines had known—or if he'd always known.

"To feel so inferior, like a part of yourself is fundamentally lacking." Nines’ eyes gleamed with empathy as his lips pulled into a comforting smile. "I've only known such emotions for a couple of months. I can't imagine how torturous it must have been. To have felt that way for so long."

"It’s not been great, I'll tell you that," Gavin replied with an embittered chuckle. "I don't know what happened to you, Nines, and we don't have to talk about it. Just know I want to help." 

Tears welled in the corners of Nines' eyes, on the brink of overflowing. "You're a good man, Gavin. Much more than you give yourself credit for," A deft hand brushed away the traces as he quickly straightened his posture, "but I am beyond help." 

Gavin was engulfed by an overwhelming sense of defeat—like the walls were closing in, steadily crushing him. 

"I will contact Captain Fowler and request that RK800 and Lieutenant Anderson assist you with the remainder of our case. It is for the best if we have no further involvement."

"So that's it, then?" He spat out the words, feeling a sickening burn rise in his throat. "We're done? Back to being strangers like nothing happened?"

"I am sorry. Truly, I am. When we became partners, I never expected to be feeling the way I am now." 

In an instant, Gavin understood. The way Nines’ intense gaze softened in a way that seemed reserved entirely for him. As though he were something he treasured deeply, with nothing else in the world holding the same significance. 

"What do you feel?"

Nines averted his eyes, and it only confirmed what he already knew. The answer was clear, but he pressed nonetheless.

"Just say it. Don't be a fucking coward." 

"It's too much," Nines lamented, his voice trembling with ill-suppressed anguish. "All of it—more than I can bear."

"You can’t do this to me." 

"To know you, the real you, has been a privilege." There was no attempt to hide the tears this time as they cascaded down his face. "Take good care of the cats." 

"Don't—" Gavin grasped his arm, attempting to halt his departure, but Nines effortlessly broke free. As the android moved away, he considered grabbing him again, but he knew it would be pointless. However, this did not stop him from pursuing as he followed obstinately out of the kitchen. 

"You didn't give up on me, and I sure as Hell am not giving up on you." The promise fell on deaf ears, and his desperation escalated. 

"...I'll wait." 

The android halted, seemingly out of shock, casting a hesitant glance back.

"I mean shit, how can you expect me to go back now, knowing what I could have had?" His choked words broke into pained laughs, as he gently shook his head. "I don't have forever like you. I'll get old, and I'll die, and I'll still be waiting. You want that on your conscience?" 

"No. It would be a terrible waste of life. One that I implore you to reconsider" Nines opened the door and stepped through, appearing determined to move forward. Not willing to risk that he might change his mind. "Goodbye, Gavin."