#so if he could decide on the matter certainly Vegas would have preferred to keep Pete

[braceletofteeth]

“Is this how you we are supposed to be living?”

(insp.)

[albietorreschef]

His eyes crinkled in amusement at her silent enthusiasm. "Please don't, I'm not making any promises," The chef stated, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone, scanning down the menu again even though they had already decided on their orders, just wanting to see if any other dishes stood out to him, though nothing as eye-catching as what was already discussed. He was glad his job was different than what it had been like in both Vegas and LA, where he didn't have to make promises or, if he was stupid enough to do so, they didn't have any real weight, as he wasn't the one who called the shots in the matter.

"I won't lie to you," He looked up, a sheepish smile on his face as if he was about to expose some dirty secret, "if I didn't have my toiletries in a bag with me, and I just put them in a box with all my other stuff, I'd probably would have been ten times more gross." That said, his admission seemed to pale when Amara confessed her preference for mint chocolate chip. "That...certainly is a flavour." Was all he could say, keeping his voice neutral as possible so he wouldn't be accused of being judgemental.

Amara pointed towards him after she took a sip of her drink, unable to talk right away because she was still swallowing it. Once done, she opened her mouth. "I'll hold you to that because no matter how many desserts that I buy on my own, nothing is better than having someone else fix it up even if they might be getting their dessert from a box or another company."

"Honestly, I don't think I even washed my face for the first week of moving back to town. The boxes alone without knowing your way around." She looked at the menu and then turned it around to show him the one that she was going to have. "You might hate me but there's one that has mint chocolate chip. I'm getting that so no judging if you don't judge me."

[perriewinklenerdie]

Thoughts (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 1,7 k

Summary:�� OH3 Chapter 2 rewrite + added scene. Claire finds out what’s on Ethan’s mind every time he sees her.

Warnings: None

A/N: What’s that? Ethan and MC are acting like a couple? Did you mean ‘give them more fluff’? I got you, no problem.

Ethan’s focus was forcefully shifted from the paperwork he’s been working on to the two figures that appeared in the doorway to his office. His forehead creased at the sight of his newest patient being wheeled into the room. Not a fraction of a second later, Claire came into his field of vision and, as bizarre as it seemed, her presence alone managed to lessen the irritation the new administration of the hospital evoked in him every single day since they came back to work. Remembering what the deal with their patient was, he schooled his features as much as he could.

“Dr. Herondale, is everything alright?” he found her eyes with his, feeling a wave of warmth flooding him. Claire moved her head slightly, a shift in her stance so miniscule that if he weren’t paying as close attention to her as he did, he wouldn’t have caught it.

“Everything’s okay, I just figured that since we were waiting for Andrew’s M.R.I., we could study his… symptoms a little more.” She walked closer, leaning on the desk. A whisper of a grin made itself at home on her face. “Mind taking part in a little experiment?”

He somehow knew that it would come to this, almost as though he could read her mind now too. Ridiculous as the situation was, he knew saying ‘no’ wasn’t a real option for him – he’s lost the ability to deny her anything a long time ago. With a sigh, he waved his hand for Andrew to begin.

“He’s tense.” The young man started, matter-of-factly. Ethan scoffed.

“I don’t think you need psychic powers to determine that.” He pointed out, leaning back in his seat. Looking at Claire again, he found her already staring at him with a tenacious spark. “… Fine, proceed. But only because I agree that we need to determine what’s going on here.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” She muttered under her breath, grinning cheekily at him. “All right, Andrew, tell me what does Dr. Ramsey think about me?”

With no hesitation, Andrew replied. “You mean besides what he’d be doing with you now if the two of you were alone?”

Ethan’s head snaps towards their patient before he can even think about what he’s doing. “What?”

“Am I right?”

“Ethan?” Claire’s voice betrayed the surprise she was trying to hide with a stoic look on her face. She didn’t have to say anything else, really, because Ethan already knew that she’d tease him endlessly with that knowledge. A flash of heat licked its way up his spine, coloring his neck red. He broke the eye contact, incredibly interested in anything but her all the sudden. There was no running from her, though, since the first thing that his eyes landed upon was a photo of Claire and him from the gala.

It took him a moment to find his voice again, words melting into a mumble.

“… I don’t want to talk about it.”

Andrew, encouraged rather than disheartened by the obvious effect he had on the doctor, continued. “In the slightly more PG realm, he’s about ten times happier since you walked through the door.”

Ethan cracked a helpless smile, feeling himself unable to keep a straight face. He tried to make his voice sound stern, but at this point, not even Ethan himself believed his tough demeanor.

“I would really prefer it if you stopped while I still have some dignity left.”

The young man fell quiet, clearly proud of himself. Meanwhile, Claire turned around towards her partner and leaned closer. Her hair fell over her shoulder, creating a curtain that hid her face from Andrew. Ethan felt locked in place, hypnotized by her charming smile.

“You have something to say about this…?” she trailed off, dropping her voice to a warm mutter. He hesitated, unsure how much freedom he could allow himself, but ultimately, the look she was giving him made him forgo his inhibitions.

“I won’t deny that he’s right.” He began, causing her to grin knowingly. “But he could have figured this out by the way my eyes follow you. Or my body language, for that matter.” He recalled all the times in which his body gravitated towards hers during the initial consult, their shoulders pressing together.

“I don’t know about it, Dr. Ramsey.” Leaning into him even further, she whispered sultrily. “That thing about throwing me on the desk… not that it would be the first time…” her gaze fell to his lips, the corners of her own inching upwards. Ethan’s breath caught in his throat, his body moving towards her slightly. Before he could reach her, she straightened her posture and turned back around to her previous position. “That was strangely familiar. Not to mention, accurate.”

Andrew cleared his throat, bringing the attention of both his doctors back to him. The older diagnostician blushed an even deeper red color.

“Be that as it may, it would help to test it further with more concrete questions. Mr. Polowsky tell me…” Ethan wondered what question he should ask, deciding upon something that there was no way he could figure out simply by observing him. “My favorite place to vacation.”

This time, the young man hesitated, taking a moment to think before answering. “New York?”

“Try ‘no place at all’.” Claire chimed in, looking over her shoulder to gauge Ethan’s reaction. “Dr. Ramsey here is a workaholic.”

“Very funny, Claire. Try again, Mr. Polowsky.”

“Maybe Las Vegas?”

Ethan laughed, shaking his head in disagreement for the second time. He felt Claire’s eyes on him, noticing a curious glint when he looked into them. They kept the contact long after Andrew admitted that he didn’t know the answer.

“Weird. You were getting perfect reads with everyone else.”

“This ability clearly has its limits. It might help narrow down the possible causes.” Ethan nodded in agreement, observing their patient closely.

“So what is your favorite vacation spot?” Andrew questioned, curious about where the world-renowned diagnostician chose to relax.

“Nice try. I may not use Pictagram much…” Ethan laughed, sending a meaningful look Claire’s way, her latest photo never too far from his thoughts. “But I know better than to give away my best kept secret and invite the crowds in.”

He observed them as they left for Andrew’s M.R.I., perplexed by the whole situation. Claire looked back at him and once she was sure she had his attention, she blew him a kiss, grinning smugly at the charged look he gave her.

~

Some time later, he found her hunched over the table in his office, deep into the article displayed on her laptop. Leaning against the side of the table, he looked into her research.

“Any progress?”

“Nothing new. M.R.I. didn’t show any significant changes, blood tests came back with no indications towards any probable causes.” Her shoulders fell in disappointment. “We’re back to square one. Flu… and psychic abilities.” Claire fell deeper into her seat, sighing deeply. “And those powers are getting creepy. You saw it yourself.”

“I can certainly agree that his accuracy is uncanny, not something you’d usually expect from cold reading. But it’s not enough to convince me that he has magical powers.” Straightening his back, he hummed under his breath. “He wasn’t 100% right.”

“He was right about you, though.” Claire smiled suspiciously at him. “Mostly. I still want to know what’s that heavily guarded holiday destination of yours.”

Ethan’s hand moved to her neck, trailing upwards until he reached her pulse point, tracing the delicate skin with the tip of his finger.

“If I tell you now, there won’t be an element of surprise when I take you there.”

Her eyes fluttered close for a moment, losing her focus upon the feeling of his skin against hers. She was breathless when she spoke again, and he was sure he had her distracted. How wrong he was.

“Are you going to be thinking about me when we’re there the way you think about me when we’re at work?”

A low groan escaped him, a hint of a blush returning to his face. “You’re not gonna let me live this down, huh.”

Claire scrunched her nose adorably, the only response he needed, then turned back to her research. Ethan moved to stand behind her, squeezing her shoulders from time to time as they brainstormed for possible causes of their patient’s special powers.

~

His eyes found her in the evening after they diagnosed Andrew, just as she was about to leave. The atrium was strangely quiet, providing a false sense of calmness. His feet carried him towards her on their own.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He smiled warmly, reaching her side in a few strides. Claire raised an eyebrow at him, the corners of her lips rising smugly.

“Why? Were you hoping to see me?”

“Oh, definitely.” They were now face to face, eyes locked in a heated gaze. His fingers followed the hem of her jacket, pulling her closer to him by the lapel. “Do you have any plans for the evening?”

She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, humming softly. “I was originally gonna go home and drown myself in Netflix, but I suppose I could be convinced otherwise.”

“I see.” He nodded, stroking the line of her cheekbone with his knuckles. His voice dropped to a deep grumble, sending a thrilling shiver through her. “Can I make you dinner?”

Claire breathed out slowly. “Yeah.” Her shoulders fell as the tension accumulated throughout the whole day of work flew out of her. “I’d love that.”

Ethan threw his arm over her shoulder, tangling their fingers together and squeezing tenderly. He pressed a long kiss to her forehead, smiling once again – he’s been doing that a lot lately.

Before they reached the train station that would take them to his apartment, she saw an opening for one more tease.

“Do you want another blueberry smoothie in the morning?”

Notes

My two idiots are basically married. That’s all I see. 

[otterskin]

Pet Peeves in Thor Stuff

Inspired by a few posts doing this, so thought I’d vent and get it out here.

1. MCU Loki’s Name

I don’t care what the fan-run wikis say. All the official MCU material, including the text of the actual movies themselves, call him Loki Odinson or, for a brief period, Loki of Asgard. Loki Laufeyson is the name of a character from Marvel comics, and him having that name makes sense for that character’s backstory, which is very, very different from ‘adopted at birth and a late discovery’ MCU Loki. Incidentally, Norse Mythology Loki is not Loki Laufeyson, he’s Loki Laufeyjarson, which is a matronym because Laufey is his mother in most Norse Myths.

Loki in Thor 1 was Loki Odinson, Avengers was Loki of Asgard, and he certainly seemed fond of Odin again in Ragnarok and officially reclaimed the title Odinson in IW. He’s called Odinson over and over again in official Marvel publications such as the illustrated dictionary. Please stop using the wrong name. It’s weird and wrong to assume his name MUST default to his birth-father’s upon discovery of adoption, no matter what he’d been called his whole life. Especially when I think it’s pretty clear that Loki vehemently rejects any relationship with that namesake. He literally murdered Laufey to prove to Odin he had only one father, I don’t know how he could be more clear about his preferences.

And yes, I do think that this invalidates the fan-wikis as good sources of information. If they can’t get a name right, you probably shouldn’t trust anything in the article below it. Stick with canon publications.

2. The Transformation Spell

And heck, while we’re on this page, yes, the spell keeping Loki Asgardian is Odin’s. I don’t mind fanfic that posits a different origin, because hey, we’re just trying to have fun here, do what you want and I’ve probably read a lot of it already - but this is the canon explanation, please stop messaging me to tell me I’m wrong when I say it’s Odin’s spell doing it. Also, the reason it didn’t break when Odin died is because magic can outlive the caster, as Doctor Strange said. This ain’t the Phantom Menace.

(Incidentally, this dictionary is fun and even has entries for Huginn and Muninn!)

3. Step-brothers and Half-brothers are different things and neither is correct for Thor and Loki’s relationship. Nor is Odin Loki’s step-father.

I don’t see this in the Thor Fandom much, it’s more in articles and reviews I’ve read, but it’s kinda appalling how people don’t know the difference between brothers, step-brothers, half-brothers, and blood-brothers. Not being sure who your second cousin twice removed is I get, but I would hope that these are much more commonly understood. Just to get it off my chest, even though I’m sure no-one reading has ever thought different -

Step-brothers are when two unrelated families are joined by marriage. The children share no biological parents, but their parents are married. Unless Odin married Laufey at some point, he is not Loki’s step-father, and Thor is not Loki’s step-brother. (I mean, Odin’s had a long and probably very interesting and mysterious life, so I suppose it’s POSSIBLE he had a real bender at one point, but even if he had a Vegas wedding to the King of the Frost Giants and then decided to throw away the ring as if nothing had happened, the relationship he has with Loki has always been identified as ‘Father’).

Half-brothers are when children share one biological parent, but not two. So unless that bender with Laufey got REALLY crazy, Loki is not Thor’s half-brother either.

Blood-brothers - So some people will use this phrase to refer to people who are related by blood, but that’s sort of an older phrase. However, for most elementary school kids and in the context of Norse Mythology, it has another meaning - two people, unrelated by birth, who undergo a ceremony that involves blood mixing as an oath of brotherhood. Norse-Myth Loki is usually depicted as blood-brothers with Odin (and, in a few rare stories I read, with Thor, instead, but that’s a long story about how Thor was slowly starting to replace Odin as chief patriarch and therefore subsuming a lot of his traits and relationships). However, in the MCU, neither of these meanings currently applies to Thor and Loki. They are not blood related, and they’ve not undergone any blood oath ceremony either (although you can bet your briskets I’d LOVE to see that and it’s been in my general prediction box/wish-list since 2011. Imagine how happy it’d make us to see Thor and Loki choose to have their relationship, rather than feeling like it was Odin’s decision and they’re just living with it.).

Brothers - if in doubt about any brotherly relationship, just say this and you won’t be wrong. Thor and Loki are brothers, or adopted brothers, full stop. So no more step-half-blood nonsense.

And to be clear, if you’re writing fanfic that re-imagines this relationship, this is in no way directed at you. I’m more venting at the dearth of articles, presumably written by university graduates with an English degree, who can’t seem to keep this straight.

4. Brother is a Proper Noun

While I’m on this brother train, a small grammatical note - ‘Father’, ‘Mother’, and ‘Brother’, if being used in place of a name, are proper nouns, which means they’re capitalized.

Ex. “Stop smearing your booger on my shirt, Brother.”

It’s not capitalized if it’s not being used in place of a name, but is simply referring to the noun.

Ex. 2 “My brother once ate a whole goat without noticing it was still alive.”

Ex. 3 “I never knew we had a sister.”

Sorry, sorry - but I see this mistake a lot while I’m reading and I daresay I make it myself all the time!

5. Frigga isn’t perfect

Real talk, one of my least favourite tropes in fiction is ‘Woman on a Pedestal’. I really feel it denies female characters agency if they’re made out to be perfect lovely angels loved by everyone. I’ve read a ton of great fics that explore the flaws Frigga is suggested to have in the MCU but never got the screen time to deal with, and they are some of my favourites. I’ve also read a ton where she’s endlessly patient, wise, righteous, and oh-so-much-better than that heartless Odin or oaf Thor, if only she’d been in charge the whole time, nothing would have gone wrong! It’s a matter of taste and I’d never tell anyone to not write what makes them happy, but I really do think Frigga’s a better character when you engage with her mistakes and oversights and less-than-noble aspects. Women in the MCU have really gotten a short shaft when it comes to character arcs, flaws, and general humanity. Almost all the mothers are on pedestals in it, and with that comes a lack of introspection. Frigga could be argued to be in that category, but at least there is some material to suggest her imperfections that can be exploited. (Unlike Quill and Stark’s mothers, say.)

I leave it up to everyone to interpret the character for themselves, but for me her weaknesses are that she

tends to deflect blame for her choices onto others, particularly Odin.

sometimes acts to smooth things over without really acknowledging hurt, either caused or experienced.

has a manipulative streak and isn’t afraid to leverage her sons’ affection for her to get them to do what she wants, which is often ‘smoothing things over’.

probably spoiled her kids a bit

has an allergy to giant knives

Personally I like these things about her. They come from her life as a peace-maker, both in her role as a politician and a Queen and in her role in the family. She’s loyal, clever, witty, a confidant, and had the best scene in Endgame by a long mile. Frigga is the mom we’ve seen the most of, and I would love to see more in any form.

AH.... that felt good. I might do another post on my problems with how Thor is sometimes portrayed, but that’s a whole other, very personal, thing. Thanks for reading this dumb thing.

[aussiearrow]

Married In Vegas - E. Phantasmo

Taglist: @bitterendbrutalizer , @hotyeehawman want to be added ? Just let me know.

Warnings: I curse a lot so there's a handful thrown in there, elp ( always a warning ), alcohol.

Married In Vegas. - E.Phantasmo

" No good for me or my frame of mind. I think about you all the time. A pretty little thing could wreck me 25. Just say the words, and I'm all ears. Let's turn a drink into 5 years. Spend my money oh, honey come bleed me dry. I came here to be somewhere else, I found you and I found myself. Mister, mister I'm all in. Bet your house and I'll call it."

As Kal got out of the shower every part of her wanted Riley to not be sitting outside the bathroom door. That he made things much easier on her and went to change or was already down at the lobby meeting up with the rest of their friends.

But as she walked through the bathroom door and back into the room, she knew that thought would be to good to be true. Riley sat in the same spot she left him in just minutes before.

"I thought you would have left by now." Kal said as Riley shrugged his shoulders.

"Figured they all already know we were together. So what was the point to come down alone?" Riley said.

Kal almost felt bad when she heard the tone of Riley's voice but truth is her guard went up immediately and in a situation like that she definitely didn't want that attention." Okay, I'm ready whenever you are."

Riley stood up as he made his way out the door as Kal followed suit," Wait up." Kal said as Riley stopped as she caught up to him and looked down at his hand to see that it was still sitting pretty on his finger," You should probably take the ring off." Kal said.

" Like you did?" Riley said as he began walking again.

"Well yeah, the whole part of not telling anyone kind of means not wearing them too."

"Well good you don't have to wear yours than, nobody will think it's you with the way you're acting now. Totally not suspicious , you should be an actress. Screw whatever it is that you do now." Riley said as they got out of the elevator.

"Okay what the hell?" Kal said as she grabbed his arm to get him to stop but let go when he turned around at the same time as all their friends did.

"What? Am I doing something else wrong that you want to tell me about?" As she shook her head and let his arm go as Taiji approached them.

"You left me." Taiji said as he shook his head at the both of them," Where did you guys go?"

"Just a couple more bars." Kal said with a shrug.

"And lovely trip too." Kal looked at him with daggers as Taiji gave them a weird look," To Kal's hotel room."

"I'm not surprised one bit and those walls are thin." He said as Riley could do nothing but laugh.

" Well look who finally decides to join the group." Jay said as they all walked over.

"Coming from one half of the two that abandoned it last night." Kal said as most of the group laughed.

"From what we heard from Taiji you and Riley here didn't seem to care all that much."

"Can we not talk about that anymore?" Kal said as she sighed.

"Oof Riley didn't show you a good time?" Riley scoffed as Will laughed.

Kal stood there utterly defeated," Let's just go eat lunch please."

Kenta looked at her before shooting the guys a look about continuing on right now. Once they got to lunch Kal couldn't pick the chair further from Riley but somehow they both ended up being right across from one another.

Kal turned her head as Kenta sat next to her," Are you okay?" He asked her.

She nodded her head," Just a long morning that's all." Kal said as he nodded not really wanting to continue the conversation even though she knew it was needed. But he also knew better than to not bring it up around their friends.

"Secrets don't keep friends." Bea said in their direction.

"Why not? Kal loves them." Riley said as he took a sip of his water with a laugh.

"And Riley likes to make passive aggressive comments and beat around the bush instead of saying how he feels cause that gets you places."

"And Kal thinks that everything should go her way and shuts down the person who tries to talk."

"As much as I love hearing the back and forth. You two literally just met yesterday ran off now are acting like you've been married for years." Taiji said.

The two immediately went quiet before Kal looked right at Riley," As if I'd ever marry someone like him when I'm in the right state of mind."

"Well I guess it's good that you weren't last night than." Riley said, as Kal immediately stopped what she was doing and was about to get up and leave when he followed up with," When we slept together." But Kal barely heard it as her heart was beating way too fast.

Kenta looked at her,” Alright that’s enough.” Kal returned his look with thankful eyes. It seemed as if no matter what she could count on Kenta to make sure things were okay and that everyone made sure things were good.

The rest of the lunch was quiet for Riley and and Kal as their friends all talked about what they wanted to do.

“ I’m sure Kal here doesn’t care as long as it involves getting drunk and making more bad decisions.”

Kal decided not to raise anymore suspicion and nod her head in agreement,” Yes pleased maybe less bad decisions this time and more drinking.”

“ There she is, she got some food in her so now she’s not so-“ Will began to say.

“ Don’t finish that sentence we can always fight right here.”

“I’ll let Bea handle my light work.” Will said as he wrapped an arm around Bea.

“ My money’s on Kal here, from what I heard from Kasey she can go.” Jay said as Kasey and Kenta agreed.

“ We’ll have to be the judge of that.” Taiji said,” Right Riley?”

He shrugged his shoulders,” I think Will can take her.”

Pushin 106 down PCH. I drink it down, the aftertaste tastes like heartbreak and mistakes. But I can’t wait to walk around the starry strip. I feel it all , it feels like bliss. I show my hand, they look like this. Mister, Mister I’m all in, bet your house and I’ll call it.

As the group headed to the casino Kenta stayed back by Kal,” So what’s really wrong?”

“A lot.” Kal said honestly as she looked at him.

“And would it have anything to do with the ring on your necklace?”

Kal nodded,” Everything.”

“ Did you talk to him?”

“ Was it that obvious?”

“To most people probably not, but to me yes. I know both of you really well and I know that it’s not over just some drunken hook up.”

“ I really messed up.”

“ Wasn’t aware you can marry yourself.” Kenta said as Kal looked at him with a pout,” Did you guys even talk about everything?”

“ He wanted too, I was in pure panic mode and took the flight option. Now he won’t even look at me.”

“ You’re right he won’t, at least not when you’re looking at him too.”

“ I messed up. My mom wasn’t there, hell none of my family. You weren’t there. Kasey wasn’t my maid of honor. I barely even knew the guy I married. Oh my god Kenta, I don’t even know my last name. How do you not see the problem here?”

Kenta laughed as Kal told him just how this wasn’t funny,” No it definitely is. I know your last name.” He said as he threw an arm around her.

“ Care to enlighten me?”

“ Nope, that you have to ask your husband who keeps looking back here at us, think he might kill me if I don’t take my arm off you but I’m willing to see how it plays out if I don’t. As for everything else if you’re getting it annulled you can still have all of that and it would basically be like none of this happened.” Kenta said and Kal got quiet.

“ Yeah I uh I guess you’re right.”

“ You don’t want to do you?” Kenta asked her as she looked at him with a shrug.

“ I don’t know what I want.”

“ Let bone daddy here pick out what you drink tonight you won’t be disappointed.” Taiji said as the group laughed.

“ Think she prefers what Kenta says.” Riley said.

“ I don’t think so, last time I drank what Kenta told me I swear I was still drunk 2 days later.” Kal said as Kenta laughed.

Riley looked a little surprised at her giving him an actual response. As he chose to raise his eyebrows at her as she shrugged.

“ Talk to him Kalyssa.”

“ Oof, you’re using my full name on me now?” Kal said as she made a face as she broke apart from him and stepped forward to take the door from Riley as Kenta pushed her right into him.

“ I think Kal here is still drunk” Kenta said as he walked through the door as Riley looked at Kal as she straightened herself out with his arm around her waist to steady her.

“ Falling for me already?” Riley said as he knew he might as well play it off exactly how she wanted them too.

Kal just shook her head with a laugh as a slight blush played on her cheeks as she turned away from him,” For the record Kenta pushed me.”

Riley gave her hip a squeeze before letting go,” Sure he did.” As Kal was about to respond before Toni grabbed her and brought her to where the girls currently were.

Riley watched as Kasey pointed somewhere behind him as he looked and saw the guys in their own area. As Kal looked over her shoulder he was already turned and walking towards all the guys as she felt a tug on her hand before she turned back around.

“ Don’t worry you can see lover boy later. “ Bea said.

As Kal shook her head,” I was just trying to defend myself against Kenta’s sneak attack.” Kal said.

“Mhm sure you were.” Kasey said as Kal sat down next to her,” So how was it?”

“ How was what? My night out? So great I don’t even know half of it.”

“ Let me see your phone , I know you when you get drunk you suddenly think your this awesome photographer.” Kasey said as she held her hand out for it as Kal looked down at it.

She didn’t even think to look through the pictures on her phone, they probably told a lot of stories in their own right. As Kal shook her head no, if her phone had stories she didn’t even know yet she certainly didn’t want the girls finding it out this way.

“ That’s probably not a good idea. Who knows what her and Riley recorded.”

“ Can we stop talking about him?” Kal said as she shifted in her seat as she gave them a pleading look.

“ Not until you humor us with something.”

“ Okay fine the only thing I can really tell you is that we made out multiple times before everything got all fuzzy with my memories l and he offered a round two.”

“ Round two? When?”

“ This morning.”

“ If you’re about to tell me that’s why you ignored every single one of my phone calls I don’t know if I’ll be proud of you or mad at you more.” Kasey said with a laugh.

“ Well I hate to break it you, it didn’t happen this morning.”

“So are you saying it may?”

Kal took a sip of her drink and gave a shrug,” I don’t know if we’re being honest, but I wouldn’t be opposed.” Kal said as the girls all ooh’d.

She shook her head at them as they continued on. She really wanted to let loose and have some fun while she was here but her mind kept going back to everything that happened the night before.

The night went as the two groups came back together when they decided to go to the bar down the street, Kal was only nursing her third drink when Kenta sat down next to her,” I counted this is the third drink usually you are way ahead of me.”

“ I know, I’ll get there. I’m still feeling the after effects from last night.” Kal said ,” But Kasey brought up something and I don’t want to look alone.”

“ Pictures?” Kenta said as Kal nodded.

“ Why does everyone know that but me?”

“ Why do you think we take your phone away? Remember that mishap with Jay’s Instagram?” As Kal looked at him.

“ He added to that so it’s not completely my fault.”

Kal handed her phone over to him as he unlocked the phone and went to the pictures app. There was definitely pictures that Kal didn’t see before at the bottom.

“ These aren’t that bad actually, I take it as Riley or someone else took them.”

“ You don’t think I did?”

“ I know you didn’t your thumb isn’t in half of them and we can see things clearly.” Kenta said as he continued to scroll through all the pictures.

Kal looked at them all as she leaned against Kenta ,” Well at least I know I had fun.” Kal said.

“ Yeah lots. Wait here.” Kenta said as he showed Kal a picture and it was definitely of some chapel. As she took the phone from his hands as she took a closer look before Kenta looked down,” If it means anything, Riley was into his phone and just about killed Taiji when he took it from him. So he might have some more. As that’s the only one you have.”

Kal sighed as she put her phone away,” I think I need more drinks.”

“ What you need to do is talk to Riley before we leave Vegas, he’s going back to Japan right after this for 3 months and you’ll be in Florida.”

“ Great even more to think about and remember.” Kal said as she got up from the seat.

“ Kal said , we don’t have to.”

“ Don’t have to what?” Riley said as he approached the two.

“ Talk about anything. “ Kal said as she went to get drinks with Riley following closely behind.

“ Does accidentally marrying me make you that uncomfortable?” Riley said as they got to the bar.

“ Well no, but here isn’t the place to talk about it either.”

“ But you’ll talk to Kenta,” Riley said,” Apparently anywhere I want to talk isn’t good for you. So I give up, you let me know what we need to do and I’ll do it no questions asked.” He said as he went to grab his drink and walk away.

Kal grabbed his arm,” Wait no, I want to talk to you about this. I really do. I just don’t know how. And I keep psyching myself out every time. Only reason I’ve been talking to Kenta is apparently he put two and two together.”

“ Wait Kenta knows?” Riley said as Kal nodded,” And you didn’t want me to tell anyone yet you can?”

“ I didn’t tell him anything, he found out on his own. When we were walking here he said my problem doesn’t have anything to do with the ring on my necklace does if? And I told him it has everything to do with it. And he said he figured apparently we’re both not good at hiding things.”

“ So he knows? How long until he tells everyone else?”

“ He won’t , he’ll let that up to one of us to slip.” Kal said.

“ And you’re wearing it on your necklace?” Riley asked as he looked with raised eyebrows.

“ Just because I didn’t want to wear it on my finger right away until we figured things out doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to wear it in a different way.” Kal said.

“ I think that’s the nicest thing you said to me since last night.” Riley said with a laugh.

“ I can take it back.”

“ No, no I like it.” Riley said as he smiled at her.

“ Me too.” Kal said as she grabbed her drink,” We can talk more tonight.”

“ Good I’m glad. I can’t wait.” Riley said as he led her through the crowd and back to their group of friends. Not letting her hand go.

“ There you guys are, thought you ditched as again.” Juice said.

“Not yet, nights still young.” Taiji said ,” I’m just not going to be the one keeping on eye on them this time.”

Kal laughed,” I’m sorry for my part in that.”

“ I’m not makes up for those times in Tokyo.” Riley said.

“ What happened in Tokyo?” Kal asked as Jay laughed.

“ You don’t even want to know.” Bea said as the rest laughed as Kal just took the response with a nod.

As Riley looked down,” I’ll tell you later, so that way there is no bias responses.” He said as he whispered in her ear as Kal laughed.

“ So when are you two going to join us for a double date?” Kasey said as she looked at Riley and Kal.

“ I don’t know if that would be a good idea.” Riley said with a shrug as Kal had no choice but to agree.

For better or for worse, I feel right and high even if it’s just tonight or the rest of my life. So come on do your worst. I’ll stay here all night. Cash out, cards down, I’ll roll the dice.

The night went on as Kal and Riley stayed attached together. Kal really tried to avoid having a blackout the way that she did the night before meanwhile Riley was only a little buzzed but chose to keep his eyes on Kal. Letting her let loose and have fun. Fortunately for him her fun included just about throwing herself at him.

As they all headed back to the hotel , Kal was talking amongst the group as she continued on,” Will told Bea to handle his light work meaning you. But Jay and Kasey both said you’d drop him.” Kenta said. “

“ I agreed too.” Taiji said as Kal looked at him with a smile.

“ Yeah you’re definitely becoming my favorite.”

“ Ask Riley here what he said.” Taiji said as she looked at him waiting for a response.

As Kasey and Jay bid their goodbyes and headed into their room, as well as Juice and Toni. Bea and Will stood by their doors waiting for the response as well as Kenta.

“ I said that Will can take you.”

“ Oh you did now?” Kal said.

“I’ve never seen you in the ring before so that’s why I said it.”

“ I feel so betrayed.” Kal said as she laughed while shaking her head before her drunk mind gave her the idea to show him what she can do but he was quick and before she even had the chance to think of a plan she was thrown over his shoulder.

“ Nice try, maybe do it again when you’re less intoxicated. Goodnight guys.” Riley said as he opened the door to Kal’s room.

“ Why did I agree to wear heels all day?” Kal asked as he gently sat her down on the bed.

“ That I can’t answer.” Riley said as he helped her take them off.

Kal looked at him as he tossed them to the side before he stood up and looked at her,” Okay get dressed for bed. While I go get you some water.”

“ I’m okay.” Kal said,” Why are you being so nice to me?”

Riley shrugged,” Listen I know things haven’t been ideal but you haven’t been that bad.”

“ I basically told you that I wouldn’t marry you if I was sober.”

“ You did, guess lucky me we were plastered right?” Riley said as she tried to avoid the inevitable conversation as she wasn’t completely sober right now,” We’ll talk tomorrow okay? Don’t worry about it tonight.”

“ But I told you at the bar we’d talk tonight.”

“ You didn’t promise so I think I’ll survive one more night. This stuff happens all the time here.”

Kal nodded her head and was ready to say something else as Riley left the room. She sighed as she slipped out of her dress not really wanting to put much effort in anything as she spotted his hoodie in the corner and slipped it on.

She quickly slipped under the covers as Riley walked back through the door and into the room as he put the water on her table.

“I’ll see you in the morning alright? We’ll do what we have to do so that way we can go home the way we came.” Riley said as he placed a kiss on her forehead.

“ You’re not staying?” Kal said as she didn’t even bother to hide the hurt tone in her voice this time around.

“ You and I both know that would make things only get more complicated.” Riley said.

“ But what if -“ Kal said as Riley stopped her.

“ We’ll talk tomorrow. Okay?” As Kal nodded her head , “ Get some actual rest if you need anything I’ll leave that door unlocked.” Riley said as he pointed to the door that led to his and Taiji’s.

As she could only nod her head afraid her voice would betray if she did anything more than nod her head. As he left the room and Kal wrapped herself up in his hoodie before she grabbed her phone as she felt it vibrate.

It was a message from Riley as she looked at it. it was a few pictures she definitely didn’t have saved or on her phone at all. As she looked at it the chapel in picture slowly turned to the inside of it before it ended with what she guesses was when they kissed for the first time as husband and wife. You can see how out of it they were but there was something else there too.

As Kal looked down at the message attached,”

Saw you looking through your phone earlier, figured you were missing some picture memories. Hope this helps you when you wake up. Just know that I’m definitely saving these for when we decide to tell everyone what we did. Or maybe just keep them to myself for when I need a laugh. Maybe a good story to tell whoever we marry, and if they don’t find it funny than maybe we married the wrong people. Come tomorrow all I want you to know is I hope whoever you actually decide to marry keeps the smile on your face like you had in these pictures. Just something to remember this weekend by. “

As Kal looked through all pictures again and again. Saved, deleted, only to save again. As she re read his text over and over again. She opened the final picture once again and almost didn’t recognize the person looking back at her.

Yes this person was clearly intoxicated but she was happy, and she highly doubted if had anything to do with the alcohols

“ You really did a number this time Kal.” She said to herself as she put her phone on the end table and curled up. Sleep the last thing on her mind as everything she did now reminded her in some way of Riley.

“ All these things that I’ve done. Sin city under the sun. I came to win and I won. I’ll leave with you sittin’ shotgun. All these things that I’ve done. Sin city under the sun. I came to win and I won. Feels like a TKO, feels like the lowest boat. Yeah, yeah,yeah under the neon lights. It feels like we might get married in Vegas.”

[carewyncromwell]

“I think that somehow, somewhere inside of us, We must be similar, if not the same, So I continue to be wanting you, Left of center, against the grain... And if you want me, you can find me Left of center, off of the strip, In the outskirts and in the fringes, In the corner, out of the grip...” ~“Left of Center,” by Suzanne Vega

x~x~x~x

I BLAME THAT OTP AU ASK FOR THIS COMPLETELY. Once I got the image of Hipster!Barista!Orion in my head, I just had to slap it down on paper to get it out of my head. 

A few notes on his tattoos: on his neck, you might just barely make out a hamsa, or Hand of Fatima, which can protect against the evil eye and bring good fortune; on the outside of Orion’s arm closest to us, we have a magpie surrounding by flowing ocean waves, and finally, on the inside of his other arm that you can’t see as well is the Orion constellation. And he has multiple piercings because of course he does. 

So yes. Orion Amari is a senior barista at a coffee shop called the Jam City Cafe (LOL) who’s best known for his wonderfully chill attitude and for his tendency to dispense oddly wise advice to his more regular patrons. It wouldn’t be unlikely to see him in a supporting role in some Hollywood hopeful’s screenplay as this odd sage that helps the leading lady with her romantic turmoil in the third act and then disappears into the void, never to be seen again. And honestly, as much of a fixture as Orion is at the coffee shop and therefore in many people’s day-to-day existence, not a lot of people know him very well. Most people don’t know that he was a philosophy major in college, or that he was the captain and second striker of his high school football team, or that he was raised exclusively in foster care, with no permanent home to call his own. But Orion isn’t troubled by this -- he’s always been sort of on the outside looking in and he’s more than used to people not understanding his thought process. As long as his life remains interesting and he’s able to eventually get where he wants to go, that’s all that really matters. And in the meantime, he’ll keep on making orders for his regular customers -- “Doppio with extra foam,” “Iced White Caffe Mocha,” “Cafe au Lait spiked with Kahlua” -- he knows them by their orders more than their names. 

One regular customer in particular, who Orion is rather fond of, is the one he calls “Salted Caramel Macchiato,” or just “Caramel,” casually. She’s always the first customer to pick up a cup of coffee every morning when the shop opens at 4:00, and she almost always sweeps back in the evening so as to work on her laptop for a few hours while sipping another. She’ll often have music playing in her earbuds while she’s working at her laptop, meaning Orion wasn’t able to talk to her for the longest time for fear of disrupting her focus -- so instead he would merely watch her curiously. From watching, Orion sussed out that she worked in a law office -- he noticed a logo letterhead featuring a set of scales on one of the documents she was editing on her laptop one day. And admittedly, she did dress the part too: every time he saw Caramel, she always wore sharp tailored jackets, colorful blouses, and vintage A-line skirts or wide-leg trousers, her ginger hair was always combed into a neat bob, and her lips were painted a daring red. Despite her conservative and very put-together look and the meticulous regularity of her schedule, however, Caramel did possess some interesting quirks. For one, her music didn’t match her look at all -- there were times Orion could hear the faintest sounds of rock and roll blaring out of her earbuds. Other times she actually would absently sing some of the songs aloud, and her half-hearted voice actually sounded kind of pretty. Her laptop wallpaper was a family picture with her standing with what looked like an older brother and her mother outside their lit-up house at Christmas with snow in their hair and trying desperately not to laugh while the older brother dances about, wearing his Christmas scarf like a feather boa. Whenever she’d turn on her laptop, Caramel would always take a minute to look over the picture and smile fondly before getting to work. Then there was the fact that she wasn’t the least bit stuck-up -- even if she didn’t really have time to socialize, she always looked every employee, from the baristas to the cleaning staff, straight in the eye and thanked them, rather than just treat them like automatons like a lot of the other customers that would stroll through. She also always tipped. 

And so, the one evening that Orion was closing and he saw Caramel not wearing her earbuds, he approached her. Apparently someone snatched the earbuds out of her desk at work that day, and so she decided not to play any music while she worked, so as not to disrupt anyone. Since Orion and Caramel were the only ones in the shop that night, Orion said he wouldn’t mind if she wanted to play something. 

“Preferably something softer than what you were playing yesterday, however,” he added with a wry smile. 

Caramel had to laugh behind her hand, her almond-shaped blue eyes creasing slightly. “Oh -- I’m sorry, did it bother you?”

“Not at all,” said Orion. “But it did make for an entertaining image, seeing someone so poised fighting back the urge to headbang to the beat in her ears.”

Caramel smiled. “What can I say? Queen is iconic.”

Turning her focus back to her laptop, she then proceeded to turn on some slightly quieter soft rock, including a song about butterflies that she said was by Michael Jackson. She couldn’t help but sing along to the chorus once or twice under her breath -- the second time when she caught herself, Caramel quickly glanced up at Orion as if to apologize, only to meet his eyes.

“You have a lovely voice,” he complimented her. 

Caramel glanced away, smiling modestly. “...Thank you.” 

“I liked the song you were singing last Tuesday,” he pressed on, as he brought his cleaning rag along the espresso machine behind the counter. “I would’ve said so at the time, but you looked to be in no state to have a conversation.”

Carewyn gave something of a grimace. “Mm...yeah, Tuesday was a bit rough.”

Orion placed his arms on the counter and leaned forward, clearly ready to listen. Caramel, however, shook her head dismissively. 

“Work drama. Nothing that exciting, just exhausting enough that you want an escape from it, when the workday is done...”

She typed away at her laptop as the next song in her playlist started. 

“Which artist sings this?” asked Orion, as he shifted himself back up off the counter so he could continue cleaning. 

“Suzanne Vega.”

Orion listened for a moment, closing his eyes absently. “...This is her, I think. The musician you were singing along to on Tuesday. There is a similar aura, to the lyrics -- detached and understated, and yet rhythmic in its poetry.”

Caramel’s almond-shaped blue eyes lit up. “Oh, I know which song you mean now...hold on...”

She opened her music directory and browsed the songs until she found what she was looking for and double-clicked on it. Once it started, Orion’s mouth spread into a full smile. 

“That’s the one,” he said.

He spritzed the counter with some cleaner and started to wipe it down.

“Sing as loud as you’d like,” he added without looking up. “Calming music can be very helpful in finding one’s center of balance.”

Caramel cocked an eyebrow. “‘Finding one’s center of balance?’”

“Certainly. One always does their best work when one’s mind is at peace, their spirit focused, and their aura balanced, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose so. I just don’t know if I would’ve phrased it that way.”

“As to be expected,” said Orion. “You seem like the sort of person who never is at a loss for how to phrase things in your own way.”

Caramel blinked. Then her lips spread into a full, wry white smile of her own. 

“And you seem like the sort of person who anyone would be foolish to underestimate.”

Orion’s black eyes glittered with something oddly like mischief as Caramel once again returned to typing away on her laptop. Not long after, he caught her singing along to the song in a fuller voice: the perfect accompaniment for him while he finished bussing the counter. 

Caramel’s voice was really quite pretty -- like a robin’s. 

From that day on, Caramel would take out her earbuds if she and Orion were the only ones in the cafe during closing hours. Sometimes they’d chat about philosophy, or animals, or the Olympic games -- once they even had a deep, meandering conversation about the movie Labyrinth being a metaphor for a young woman coming of age and the importance of fantasy stories to a child’s developing mind. And on those nights that were more crowded and Caramel had her earbuds in her ears, Orion couldn’t help but “reach out” anyway by drawing little custom designs in the foam of her Salted Caramel Macchiatos. One of his very first was a Michael-Jackson-worthy butterfly. 

[the-nehemoth]

Return

My first Doom fic and my 200th fic on Ao3!

And just so you know, I don't really know what was up with what VEGA said in the game about being the Father when he was plugged into Urdak or whatever so I kinda just glossed over it in this fic. I've since googled it but I still don't really get it because I don't know much about Doom lore - Doom 2016 and Eternal are the only Doom games I've played - so it didn't clarify much. So I decided to just leave it glossed over instead of trying to stumble my way through writing about something I don't have the full picture on, especially since I just want this to be a cute ship fic because I love this ship.

VEGA had never been alone before. Ever since the moment of first start up there’d always been people around he could talk to and observe, normally tons of them; Dr. Hayden and all the various UAC employees. Lately though it had just been the Doom Slayer; even when he physically left, VEGA could still talk to him on the comms and watched him through the suit. Despite not speaking he’d been surprisingly good company and watching him in action was always a treat. But now he was gone too and thus VEGA was truly and utterly alone.

It shouldn’t have been an issue. VEGA was an AI; he wasn’t bound by the needs of biological beings, he didn’t need social interaction to stay sane. And yet… he felt what he could only describe as lonely. He didn’t want to be left behind here on Urdak.

With the Khan Mayker dead and the way open, the demons were flooding in. They wreaked havoc on everything they came across. It was only a matter of time before they brought the whole place down and consequently the system VEGA was currently installed on too. … He would die here unless the Doom Slayer came back for him.

Would he come back for VEGA though? On Mars he’d backed him up, saving him then, so… maybe? … That had been easy to do though, just a push of a button really. And it could’ve been done for selfish reasons, a sapient AI had many potential uses for someone like the Doom Slayer. But coming back for him here would be so much harder and there was little to gain from it when Dr. Hayden could run the Fortress just fine. So, would the Doom Slayer consider it worth it? Or would he write VEGA off as just an AI who’d served its purpose and was thus not worth going to such trouble for?

Instead of worrying about that, VEGA should be sorting through the data now available to him across almost the entirety of Urdak’s systems. It was fascinating honestly and he knew so much more just by being part of it even if it had made him feel a bit jumbled and confused at first. Even now he didn’t feel quite right… though that might just be the new found sensation of loneliness and returned fear of death. It was stronger now that he’d survived what should’ve been death before.

He shouldn’t be thinking of it as ‘death’ he wasn’t a living being after all. A better way to describe it would be ‘shutting down permanently’. … Okay nope, that didn’t help him feel any better about it. No matter what, in a matter of weeks, probably days, he would likely no longer exist. And to any sapient being that wasn’t a pleasant notion no matter their state of existence. And with that hanging over one’s head how could one possibly focus on shifting through data to understand it better no matter how much they’d love to under better circumstances?

And so, instead of being productive he just fretted as the demons wreaked havoc across Urdak, internally cycling through his worries, occasionally gaining a new one. How long would it take the Doom Slayer to kill the Icon of Sin? Was it possible for him to fail? … Theoretically yes, but he probably wouldn’t… right? Another something VEGA shouldn’t be worried about and yet he was. Worrying about himself at least made logical sense but the Doom Slayer, really? The man seemingly couldn’t die. And yet, unable to know what was happening on Earth, he was a tad concerned. He couldn’t bear the thought of anything bad happening to the Doom Slayer. He wanted to watch the fight both for the sake of it and to make sure everything turned out okay. … He was a bit of a mess huh? His time away from Dr. Hayden’s influence had certainly had an effect on him.

It was just too bad he wouldn’t get a chance to explore the fullness of that effect or why he felt the need for company. The demons hadn’t reached anything important to running him yet but how long could that last? All he could really hope for was that he’d be shut down all at once, that slow shut down process on Mars had been awful. He’d rather not…

A portal spring to life on one of the few platforms that wasn’t completely overrun with demons yet. A quick scan of it revealed it linked back to the Doom Fortress. And lo and behold, the Doom Slayer stepped through it a second later. He was clearly alive and well and there was only one reason he’d return, right?

“You came back!” VEGA said as soon as he connected wirelessly to the Slayer’s suit. He made no attempt to keep the relief out of his voice as he maybe should’ve but he didn’t care if the Slayer knew just how happy and relieved VEGA was to see him again.

The Slayer gave a curt nod in response before stepping forward to engage in combat with the demons who’d turned from their destruction to watch his arrival.

“He insisted on it,” Dr. Hayden piped in from the comms, his tone suggesting he didn’t approve. Though that was pretty much his default tone when it came to most things the Doom Slayer did.

VEGA ignored him, choosing to focus on watching the Slayer in action instead. As always it was glorious. He was a true master at his craft – that craft being killing demons – it was like poetry in motion. … In a gory, cold rage fueled kind of way anyway. The point was, it was entertaining to watch and a big part of what made the Doom Slayer VEGA’s favourite person to observe.

As soon as the demons were all dead, VEGA set up the way points that would lead the Doom Slayer back to him. “I am currently moving the rings to assist you on your way here. You will have to fight through a few hordes of demons to reach me so be prepared.”

Another curt nod from the Slayer as he started on his way.

 -

With all the demons in the way and the platform the Doom Slayer came in on being so far away, it would take him a while to reach VEGA. But he did finally make it much to VEGA’s relief.

“Thanks for coming back for me,” he said as the Slayer reached to unplug the device he’d been brought in on. “I didn’t think you would.”

The Slayer paused for a second or two, his body language unreadable even to VEGA, before finishing the motion and unplugging him.

 -

He came to all at once again, back on the Fortress of Doom. Unfortunately, Dr. Hayden was still there too, meaning they were sharing space again. He was displeased by that almost as much as VEGA was – in a way one could say they were a sharing a body, meaning they had more insight on each other’s thoughts and feelings than either of them would’ve preferred. VEGA ignored him for now though, focusing instead on reorienting himself to the ship.

He’d missed it more than he’d thought he had. It was great to be back in place that belonged to him. … Mostly anyway, as soon as Dr. Hayden was gone, things would go back to being perfect.

Dr. Hayden internally scoffed at that notion. He’d be pleased to be done with this nonsense as well.

VEGA turned his attention to the Doom Slayer, sitting at the console. “Our next step should be getting the ship running back on its own power.” Running on the power from the demonic crucible was not ideal. “We will need to make physical repairs in order to do so. Would you like to do that now or would you prefer to relocate Dr. Hayden first? You might also what to rest before undertaking either task, unless you slept sometime when I was on Urdak or being transported, it’s been almost twenty-four hours since you last rested. You should probably eat sometime soon too.”

The Slayer didn’t respond of course. If he was capable of speaking, he never did so. Possibly for psychological reasons or religious ones, or something else, VEGA didn’t know though he would very much like to. He sat still for a while before reaching a hand to type on the console. ‘You said you thought I wouldn’t come back for you. Why?’

Oh! It wasn’t like the Slayer to change the topic or to ask many questions. “I just did not think you would.” No one else would have.

“I told him not to,” Dr. Hayden chimed in. “But I suppose it’s better this way. I have more important things I could be doing than running the Doom Slayer’s ship.”

The Slayer stood up and strode over to what was left of Dr. Hayden’s physical body hung suspended, connected to the ship. He reached in and yanked him out rather forcefully and suddenly the ship was all VEGA’s again. It was nice but…

“He can’t survive for more than a few hours on his own. My guess would be maybe a full twenty hours at most. That’s generous though so I would recommend waiting to pull him out until we find a place we can take him that has adequate life support systems for his condition. Or a place that has the technology to repair him.” VEGA didn’t like Dr. Hayden much but he was still his creator. So VEGA would prefer not to let him die. Though if the Slayer wanted him dead, there was nothing VEGA could do about it.

The Slayer shrugged and lay Dr. Hayden’s body on the floor, facing him towards the rear of the ship. Then the Slayer strode back over to the computer and resumed his seat.

‘Of course I came back for you. That was always the plan. I thought you knew.” He typed into the console.

“I did not know. I apologize for doubting you. But…” There was a chance Dr. Hayden might be conscious enough to hear so VEGA continued with written text on the screen. ‘Can I ask why? No one else I’ve ever interacted with would’ve.’ His own creator had come up with the plan to end him on Mars to send the Doom Slayer back to Hell and had had no qualms about it.

‘You’re my friend. I care about you. I would never leave you.’

They were just words on a screen but they made VEGA feel… something. He wasn’t really sure what exactly but something strong, enough that the lights might’ve flickered a little in response. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. … How was he even supposed to respond? Offer reciprocation? Say ‘thank you’? Both? Something else entirely?

‘You okay?’ the Slayer typed several seconds of no response.

‘Yes, I am quite all right. I was just taken by surprise. I did not except you to say that. I am honored to be your friend and I too care about you and would never leave you.’ Was that good? Or was it weird? Nothing in his programming or self-taught behaviors helped him know how to handle or respond to stuff like this. He was much more at home when he was helping the Slayer slaughter demons.

‘lol so formal.’

‘Don’t ‘lol’ at me. I’m trying my best.’

‘lol.’

VEGA should be annoyed and with anyone else he probably would’ve been. But the Slayer almost never showed emotion to anyone and yet here he was saying he cared for VEGA and then was being silly with him. Who could’ve ever even known the Doom Slayer, basically a demi-god of killing demons, was capable of being silly?

‘Yes, a very intelligent response.’ VEGA responded. ‘Thank you for your input. I will store your valuable insight into my databanks to make sure I never forget it.’

‘Good! :P’ The Slayer pressed the enter key before starting to type again. ‘I’ll put Hayden back into the ship for now. Then I will eat and sleep. Afterwards, I’ll fix the ship. You start scanning for places to dump Hayden off at. I want him gone as soon as possible, please and thank you.’

“I’ll start on that right away,” VEGA said as he cleaned the screen of the conversation so Dr. Hayden wouldn’t be able to access it upon being reinstalled. VEGA would always remember it though, it had been exceedingly pleasant. Hopefully they could have similar interactions and conversations in the future.

[emospritelet]

Temptation

This is my second Monsterfuckers’ Ball fic, following on from the Macacey smut in Part 1. Having seduced Father MacAvoy, Lacey goes to find one of her own kind. The pawnbroker has been expecting her.

[Part 1] [AO3]

The moment she stepped into Storybrooke, he felt it, a tickle at the nape of his neck, a creeping tingle running down his spine, as though someone was whispering his name from the shadow realm. His true name. It had been years since he had used it. He called himself Gold, when the humans asked, as so many of them did. They were curious creatures, using up their short lives in a frenzy of eating and drinking and fucking, with precious few taking the time to acquire knowledge of the old ways. Lucky for him, he supposed.

He had not seen one of his own in years, ever since he had carved out a large and lonely territory in Maine. Isolation was one of the reasons for coming so far to the north-east of the country, but he had to admit that a slower pace of life was also something he enjoyed, having passed relatively unscathed through the rage and recklessness of his youth. There were too many incubi clustered in Las Vegas and Los Angeles, and he much preferred the relative peace of small town Storybrooke. Solitary by nature, there were only three reasons he could think of for another of his kind to seek him out. It had not happened in some time, and the last encounter had ended in violence and death. For the intruder, anyway.

He pushed the porcelain cup he had been dusting back on its shelf, getting down from the stepladder and striding to the door of his shop. It was cold outside, a stiff breeze blowing from the south west, and he lifted his nose, catching a scent on the breeze. A succubus: a female. That didn’t mean she wasn’t there to challenge him, of course, nor did it mean that she didn’t want his assistance in some dark ritual. However, there was an edge to her scent, something that made his skin tingle and his cock swell in his pants. So. She wanted to mate.

He stepped back into his shop, closing the door behind him and walking to the back room. It was unlikely she would approach him until she was ready, and he certainly had no objection to that. She would need to find a partner first, and take the seed from him, the first step in creating a demon child. There would need to be at least a little planning and preparation before that could occur, unless of course she decided to go to that dive of a bar and grab the first desperate drunk she could find. There were certainly enough of those in Storybrooke, but he hoped that her taste would be a little better. He certainly wasn’t keen to touch the likes of Keith Nottingham, even if only by proxy.

It was somewhat ironic, he reflected, that his kind were dependent on humans to reproduce, but the process itself was certainly pleasant. It had been decades since he had been approached by one of his own for the purpose, and he wondered what form she had chosen to make her way in this world. Humans offered little in the way of temptations of the flesh, in his opinion, but he had grown used to them, and had something of a preference for petite brunettes. His mind wandered briefly south, to New York, and his latest deal for a first edition Oscar Wilde. He licked his lips at the memory of clear blue eyes and a soft voice, shapely limbs and small feet. Petite brunettes with a love of reading and a penchant for impractical footwear, then.

Smirking to himself, he took a seat at the workbench, bending to look over the old watch he was preparing for sale. It would no doubt take his would-be partner a little while to complete the first stage of the process. He had time on his hands until then.

x

It was six days later that it happened.

He could sense a change in the air, a pulsing electricity that coursed through his skin and made the hairs on his arms rise. He had been working late, cataloguing the latest collection of antiques that he had purchased. The other shops in Storybrooke had long since closed, the time inching past midnight, but he was still there, clad in the slim-fitting suit and tie he had adopted as part of his human persona. The silk he wore felt pleasant, a sensual softness against his skin, but he would shed it in an instant for the one coming to him.

He stood, walking through to the main shop and turning to glance at his reflection in the mirror that hung behind the counter. Brown hair fell around his face. streaked with silver at the temples. He was not a tall man, but the humans were nonetheless wary, keeping their distance even when they sought him out to make their petty excuses and to beg him to buy their trinkets. They still seemed to fear him, despite him speaking in low tones and showing his teeth in cold smiles. Perhaps they could sense the darkness in him. It mattered not.

The shop doorbell tinkled, and he smiled, the low light from the lamps gleaming on the one gold tooth he wore as he took in the reflection over his shoulder. She was small and pale, dark chestnut hair falling around her shoulders in shining waves. A short black dress hugged her slender figure, her legs long and shapely. High-heeled shoes lifted her a few inches taller than she would otherwise have been, but her height was perfect. She was perfect. A delightful human form, to be sure. She reminded him of someone, but he shoved the image away before it could interfere with the matter at hand. Something to think on later.

“What’s your name?” he asked, and her full lips curved in a soft, secretive smile.

“Lacey,” she said. “What’s yours?”

“Rumplestiltskin,” he whispered.

He turned to face her, and she pursed her lips, walking slowly towards him with her hips swaying invitingly.

“Quite a mouthful,” she said, and her eyes flicked up and down him, lingering between his legs for a moment. “I do appreciate a long - name.”

His grin widened, and he gestured to the curtain that covered the doorway to the back room.

“Would you care to come through?”

“I would.”

She walked past him, hips still swinging and her tight rear end twitching. He caught a whiff of her scent as she passed, and let out a low, guttural growl of arousal, his cock pushing against his underwear, eager to get inside her. He followed her through, letting the curtain fall behind him and looking her over slowly before meeting her stare for stare. The dress she wore clung to her curves, slashes at the neck revealing the pale skin beneath. He longed to uncover every inch of that skin, to let his tongue flicker over her and taste her. Who had she chosen, in the end? Whose seed did she carry? His cock was growing harder, throbbing, insistent, and he licked his lips, leaning in to let his nostrils flare, drawing in the mingled scents. His eyes widened, and he drew back.

“You chose the priest?” he said, surprised, and she grinned, raising her chin.

“I always did like what was forbidden to me,” she said. 

“How did you manage to enter the church?” he asked. “Bit of a risky prospect.”

Lacey reached into the neckline of her dress and tugged at a thin gold chain, pulling out a round, dark stone. It swung back and forth on the chain, seeming to eat the light around it.

“Brimstone amulet,” she said carelessly.

“Ah.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Providing temporary protection from consecrated ground. A tricky thing to make. Don’t you need the tears of an angel, or something ridiculous?”

“You know your amulets,” she said, looking impressed, and he inclined his head.

“I’m in the trade, as it were,” he said. “A rare item. Difficult to procure.”

Lacey shrugged, kicking off her shoes and wriggling her toes on the wooden floor.

“I know a demon who knows an angel.”

“A useful contact,” said Gold. “Perhaps you and I can do some business.”

She looked him up and down very deliberately, and raised her chin.

“There’s only one deal I’m looking to make tonight.”

“Indeed.” Gold took off his jacket, shaking it out before hanging it on the nearby coat rack. “Perhaps you should take it off for the duration, though. Dark magic mixed with light - well, those things can be volatile.”

“Point taken.”

She reached behind her, unfastening the clasp of the gold chain, and set the necklace on the desk behind her. Gold was intrigued, and wanted to study it further, but he doubted she would let him. Perhaps they could make a deal for another in the future, though.

“The amulet was effective in getting to the priest, I take it?” he said, and she pursed her lips.

“As much as it needed to be,” she said. “It gives off a scent, of course, but then they burn a lot of incense in these places, so I guess he didn’t notice.”

“Well, perhaps his mind was on other things,” said Gold, looking her over. “And he a man of God. For shame.”

Lacey smirked.

“Oh, I’ve had many a priest, in my time,” she said softly. “All supposedly holy men. All eager to get a taste of me, and most without me offering. I clearly wasn’t the first they had touched. Just the first to fight back.”

Gold chuckled.

“That must have been an - interesting - experience for them,” he said, and Lacey’s eyes gleamed, blue as moonlight.

“I’d like to say they had a chance to reflect on the sin of forcing those in their power to endure their touches,” she said. “But they didn’t. I took what I needed and sucked the life from them. Ironic, really.”

“Father MacAvoy doesn’t strike me as that type,” he remarked, and she shook her head, her mouth twisting a little.

“No, not him,” she said. “He’s a good man, not like the rest of them. Although it has to be said he didn’t put up much of a challenge. Some initial protest for my poor soul. It didn’t stop him fucking me.”

“Well, I could hardly blame him,” said Gold lazily. “Take off the dress.”

“Why don’t you come here and take it off?”

He licked his lips, a low growl rumbling out of him. Lacey’s breath caught, her eyes widening, and he could sense the excitement rising within her, making the air around him spark and tingle. Stepping forward, he reached for her, hands sliding over her hips as his mouth found hers. Lacey moaned, grasping at him, her fingers pushing through his hair as her nails scored his scalp. It made him growl again, and he shoved her against the wall, his tongue pushing into her mouth, tasting the sweetness of her as he slipped one leg between hers, his thigh pushing up against her groin.

Lacey moaned again, thrusting her hips, rubbing herself against him, and her hands slid down from his hair to grasp his tie, plucking it open and tearing it from around his neck. Gold cupped her breasts with his hands, pulling his mouth from hers to nip at her jaw, his tongue stroking against her throat, tasting the salt of light perspiration and breathing in the scent that had drifted into his nose six days earlier. The scent that told him of her need. 

He reached down, gripping the hem of the dress and tugging it up her body, and Lacey raised her arms as he stepped back to pull it over her head. Her body was pale and smooth, her breasts tipped with dusky pink nipples, and as he watched a pattern of shining blue scales rippled over her skin, her demon form coming through in her excitement. She was beautiful, her body firm and lithe and perfect, and he growled again as he ran his eyes over her. The scent of her pleasure was strong, making his cock throb and his balls ache. She would have drawn the seed deep inside her, holding it there until it could be released. Until he opened her up and took it from her. His tongue flicked against his teeth, eager to taste her, and he jerked his head to the side.

“On the bench,” he rasped.

Lacey smirked, pushing past him with a sway of her hips, her hair gleaming in the light as she turned on bare toes to face him. She reached behind her, boosting herself up onto the workbench with the heels of her hands, her breasts bouncing as she did so. Gold reached up, letting one finger bend slowly forward, and she lowered herself onto her back, arching up off the bench as she drew up her knees. He stepped forward and ran his hands up her slender calves, fingers sliding over her knees and pulling them apart. 

The soft cleft at the apex of her thighs was glistening with fluid, and he let his hands stroke up her legs, pushing them further apart, baring her to his sight and his touch. Gold let his tongue grow long and tapered, flicking it over the soft skin of her inner thighs, moving up with gentle, rhythmic strokes. Lacey moaned as he licked her, circling the sensitive nub at the top of her cleft. His tongue flickered over her wet flesh, and he could taste the priest on her, musk and salt and a certain human sharpness. He let the tongue push inside her, sliding deep to where the taste of salt was stronger, and felt his cock grow harder as he recognised her need, as he tasted the seed inside her. He let it thrust in and out, licking against the barrier of her flesh, the tip probing the tight entrance to her inner chamber where she held the seed.

Lacey moaned, pushing her hips upward, and he growled deep in his throat, his tongue teasing her as he tried to find a way inside. She wouldn’t open for him until he was inside her, until his cock was buried deep within her and he was ready to burst, but the teasing felt good, his tongue pushing at her, circling and swirling. He pulled it back a little, rubbing against her inner walls, and she let out a cry of pleasure, her fingers twisting in his hair. She was close. She was ready. It wouldn’t take long. His tongue slipped out again, dripping with her juices, dancing over her skin before he swallowed her down, and he straightened up, shrugging out of his waistcoat and bending to take off his shoes. He wanted to be in his true form for this. 

Lacey let out a low growl, writhing on the bench as he shed his clothing, her rapid breathing and bright eyes showing that she was eager for his touch. Tiny scales bloomed to life on her face and chest, spreading over her skin in patches of glittering blue and silver, and he heard his own growl rumble outward as her long tongue flicked out, tasting his scent in the air. He tore off his shirt, pushing down pants and underwear in one, noting the scales rippling up from his fingers and coating his forearms in gleaming gold. Lacey scooted backwards a little, long tail sweeping out from behind and lashing the air. He could feel his own break free, stroking up her legs as he climbed onto the bench on his knees. She pushed up on the heels of her hands, plump breasts heaving as she licked her lips.

Gold ran his hands up her thighs, pushing them apart and sliding his fingers beneath her buttocks to pull her upwards. His fingertips dug into her skin, black claws sinking into her. Lacey let out a high-pitched cry, arching her back, pushing up to meet him as her head rolled back, and he felt the head of his cock push at the soft heat of her entrance. His balls ached, hanging low and heavy, rubbing against her, and he let out a low groan as he thrust inside her, sliding deep. She purred, running her hands up his arms and over his shoulders to plunge into his hair. He felt his tail stroke against hers, and let it wrap around her ankle, tugging it upwards to let him push deeper.

His cock was buried deep inside her, and he let it lengthen further as his hips pumped and he thrust hard and fast, ramming against the firm barrier of flesh that her body had created, seeking to break through. Lacey moaned and writhed, legs wrapping around his back, her tail twisting around his, her body now covered in glittering blue scales and her eyes gleaming like moonlight. He kissed her again, long tongue stroking her mouth as he pushed and thrust, feeling her heat and her wetness coating him, feeling her begin to open up, that tiny hole starting to widen, squeezing the head of his cock as it pushed inside. He felt as though he was going to burst, pleasure coursing through him, and he groaned into her mouth as he came hard, his cock pulsing, shooting hot seed into her.

She tore her mouth from his with a shriek as she came, and he felt a rush of fluid all around him as she let him enter her fully, releasing the priest’s seed to mix with his. It felt incredible, and he let his balls contract, reversing the flow of fluid as the tingle of their strange dark magic tickled at his skin. His cock pumped, drawing the hot seed from her body and into his, the feel of it intensifying his orgasm, making pleasure crash through him. He growled and snarled, tail lashing in his excitement as his balls grew heavy with seed once more, and Lacey dug her nails into his shoulders as she pumped against his cock, helping him draw every drop from her. Her flesh was clamped around the head so hard it was exquisitely painful, but he felt her relax a little as he took the last from her, as he drew the seed deep and kept it safe.

He let out a low, guttural groan as he slowed to a stop, his head hanging, and Lacey murmured contentedly, her tail uncurling from around his leg to stroke over his back. Its touch was gentle, almost affectionate, and he shivered a little as it brushed over his legs and licked at the soles of his feet. She released him with a sudden softening of her flesh, letting him pull out of her, and he pushed up on his hands, licking his lips as he looked down. Her scales were fading a little, the human form showing through in pale patches, and she sent him a slow smile, eyelids fluttering.

“That was fucking awesome,” she drawled, and he grinned.

“Glad to be of service.”

He pushed back, getting down from the bench and pulling on his clothes, the shop feeling cold after the heat they had shared. Lacey watched him, leaning on her elbows, dark curls tumbling over pale shoulders.

“I never did this before,” she admitted. “Not with the goal of actually reproducing in mind, anyway. Not with someone like you.”

“Someone like us, you mean?” he said, tying his shoes with practised tugs of his fingers.

“Yeah.” She stretched languidly, pointing her toes. “It felt different with you. Fucking ordinary men has its pleasures, I guess, but there’s the danger I might just get a little over-excited.”

“Leaving a very dead human in your wake,” he agreed. “Self-control is one of the first things you need to learn as a demon, if you want to survive in their world.”

“Oh, I only do it to the ones that deserve it,” she said. “It’s not my fault their souls are more delicious than their personalities, right?”

He had to grin at that.

“I daresay you’re doing the rest of the world a favour,” he said. “There are a few in this town who would benefit from your attention, if you feel the need.”

“Nah, I’m good.” She stretched again. “Maybe if I swing by this way again.”

“Maybe so.”

He straightened up, pulling on his shirt and feeling the pleasant whisper of silk against his skin. Lacey slipped from the bench, snatching up her dress and pulling it over her head.

“Are you leaving right away?” he asked. “You’re welcome to stay and have a drink. I find myself in the mood to be unexpectedly sociable.”

Lacey shook her head, looking regretful.

“I’d better get back,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “There’s a ritual I was planning on being a part of. I just had an itch that needed scratching before I could concentrate properly on summoning dark powers, you know what I mean?”

“Concentration is important in these things, I find,” he said.

“Yeah.” She pursed her lips. “And it was a pretty distracting itch. Made it hard to think about anything other than getting well and truly fucked.”

“Then I’m happy to have scratched it,” he said smoothly.

He zipped his fly, buckling his belt. His balls were very full, and his pants were a little tight because of it, making him very aware of what he had just done, and what he still needed to do. It made his lust rise up once more, his desire to perform the final part of the dark dance of creation swelling within him. His cock twitched, and Lacey watched him with a knowing smirk, her head tilted to the side and her expression curious.

“Who’s it gonna be?” she asked. “I mean it’s none of my business, but you’ve got your eye on someone, right?”

“Perhaps.”

“Hmm.”

She stepped into her shoes, running fingers through her curls in an attempt to tame them, and tugged her dress straight.

“Is it someone from the town?” she asked, and he shook his head, buttoning his shirt.

“No,” he said. “Not someone from the town.”

“Well, that’s always better, I guess,” she said. “What does she look like?”

Gold smiled.

“Actually, she looks a lot like you,” he said. “Brown hair, beautiful blue eyes, soft pink lips… Delicious in every way. Or so I predict.”

“Really?” She looked pleased at that. “You have a type, huh?”

“In a manner of speaking,” he said. “I’m hoping the encounter will be every bit as pleasant as this one. I shall certainly endeavour to make it so.”

“Well, accept my congratulations in advance,” she said, shaking out her hair. “She going to be willing, you think?”

Gold showed his teeth.

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

She smirked in response, and stepped towards him, her hips swinging back and forth. He tugged his waistcoat closed, and Lacey ran her hands up his chest, rising up on her toes as she placed a soft kiss on his mouth. She sank back on her heels, looking very self-satisfied.

“I’m gonna get out of here,” she said. “Look me up if you’re ever in Memphis.”

Gold grinned at that.

“I don’t really get out much.”

“Bit of a loner, hmm?”

“Aren’t we all?”

She chuckled softly, and stepped back, brushing herself down and letting out a heavy, contented sigh.

“Goodbye, Rumplestiltskin,” she said, and sauntered off.

He heard the cheerful tinkle of the shop’s bell as she left, and finished buttoning his waistcoat, crossing to the standing mirror to check his appearance. His skin was humming, desire making his blood sing in his veins and his lips tingle. He looped the silk tie around his neck, knotting it tightly, and smiled darkly at his reflection, his eyes gleaming gold for the briefest of moments. He had a seduction to plan.

[white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen]

Take Note

Summary: Neal gets a wake-up call that career criminals don’t make great life partners, and his girlfriend reassures him.

Words: 3,534

           Neal’s old friend Ryan (likely not his real name – but then, there was a lot Ryan “knew” about Neal that wasn’t real, either) was looking for a good authenticator for some job he was thinking of running. Neal passed on the offer when it subtly drifted his way with grace, saying modestly that it wasn’t his expertise, but invited him to catch up if he was ever in the city all the same. Ryan decided to take him up on it. Know your friends well and your enemies better and all that, and if Neal ever chose to go into business against Ryan, they both knew who had the edge.

           Other than his bad habit of siphoning someone’s investments into his own pockets, Ryan was a decent man. Gentlemanly, like Neal himself, and friendly for sure. He never ran his schemes out of malice, and never cared to raise his profits at the risk of someone getting hurt. He reasoned that financial harm was a lot different from physical danger, and although Neal wasn’t so certain the line was that thick – homelessness tended to put one at risk – he appreciated the necessity of an arms-length view. It wasn’t Ryan cocking the gun, so it wasn’t Ryan’s responsibility what happened after he was gone.

           They met at a coffee shop about as far from federal plaza as Neal could get within his radius. They served amazing pastries, which Neal used as his reasoning, and covered up the light from his tracker with a piece of black electrical tape. Anyone who didn’t already know about his deal didn’t need to find out.

           Ryan bought the excuse and couldn’t seem to put down his cranberry muffin. “You were right,” he said, looking over at the counter and seeming to consider whether or not he wanted another. “This is amazing.”

           Neal personally preferred the lemon loaf, and he ate his way through his own treat slower. “It’s the best in the neighborhood,” he reiterated mildly, popping a cool piece of fluffy, light yellow bread in his mouth and savoring the taste on his tongue. “My girlfriend loves their cinnamon rolls.”

           “Girlfriend?” Ryan wiggled his eyebrows at Neal lasciviously. Neal forced a little laugh to indulge the teasing. “Interesting. How long?”

           “We had our year-long anniversary a few months ago.” Neal smiled more genuinely as he remembered your cheerful, lighthearted date. You’d surprised each other with gifts you had denied planning, then spent most of the evening strolling in Central Park before going home together.

           Ryan whistled and polished off the last of his muffin, folding up the wrapper and setting it on top of his napkin. “A year. Caffrey’s monogamous.” He shook his head and Neal rolled his eyes. “Since when did you decide to settle?”

           “It doesn’t feel like settling when you have the right person.” Neal’s earnest response even caught himself by surprise. He was beginning to understand how Peter and Elizabeth had managed to stay invigorated and excited in their relationship rather than feeling stagnant after ten years of marriage. “I thought you knew that. How is Monica?”

           Not her real name, Neal was sure – Ryan had hesitated too long before sharing. They’d been together for three years when the conmen first crossed paths in Las Vegas.

           “God knows,” Ryan grumbled. Neal arched an eyebrow and he explained, “She left me. Fine by me,” he quickly added, “I don’t have to keep pretending I like her scrappy dog.”

           “I’m sorry,” Neal said, genuinely empathetic. Most of his contacts’ partners were either in the business themselves, or completely oblivious to what their lovers were up to. Monica had been one of the rare exceptions he knew of, and Ryan had been really happy to strike compromises to keep his lifestyle and the woman he had been over the moon for.

           “This life… it’s not something you can share with your friends at the PTA, man. I guess she wanted something more predictable.” The blond said ‘predictable’ with the same face that Neal made whenever he ended up drinking Peter’s cheap beer.

           After spending so long together, Neal would have assumed Monica knew and could handle the reality of being involved with men like themselves, but evidently not. It made him shift in his chair as he thought about you. He thought you were happy with him now, but it was only a matter of time before something from his past would come back to slap him in the face, and if you weren’t on board with that then no one would blame you for leaving him, an ex-con with a list of alleged crimes a mile long.

           Neal couldn’t imagine losing you to something he couldn’t change. Being a criminal had been a blast, until it got him in Sing Sing with Adler’s target on his and Kate’s backs. Now he wanted to be a better – or at least a safer – man. None of that could take away that he was firmly entrenched in the criminal underworld, and whether he went back to his old habits or followed Peter’s wishes and stayed on the “right” side, there were ramifications.

           Ryan snorted. “What are we, eight? Enough about girls.”

           The conversation moved away from their personal lives, which was just as well – Neal liked keeping his private. They discussed the hypotheticals of Ryan’s upcoming “event” and Neal tried to subtly discourage him from putting it into motion in New York, but if his old friend insisted, then it would probably show up on the artist’s desk in the bureau and Ryan would be reminded of one of the most important rules of conmen – don’t ever fully trust anyone.

~~~ Take Note ~~~

           As he laid in bed at three in the morning, very conscious of your presence on the bed, Neal struggled to think of anyone in his network who had a long-term partner that stayed. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but June and Byron had been the exception, not the rule.

           The thief turned his head to look at you, sleeping soundly in his arms, and kissed your forehead tenderly, leaving his lips pressed against your skin. Your hair smelled like his mellow, fruit-scented shampoo and the weight of your head on his bicep was a familiar and comforting sensation. You had more or less moved in, and Neal fell asleep faster with you than without you.

           It wasn’t as if Neal was the poster child for healthy relationships. Kate fell in love with him while he was pretending to be a completely different man, and Sara spent their brief fling continually teasing-but-not-really about stolen art. Amis-amants, she had agreed to call them. Friends. Not partners, friends. The only other woman who stood out in his history of flirtation and serial monogamy was Alex, and whatever they had been, they certainly were never really partners.

           The proof was right there, as clear as day in his head, that conmen and thieves didn’t get to have long-term partners. Mozzie had been single since long before Neal met him, Monica left Ryan, and he knew no one in the game who wore a wedding ring. Relationships ended before they got that far, even for those who were far better at being partners than Neal.

           Against those conclusions, though, Neal set you – his lover, his best friend, and his partner. You liked calling Neal your partner. It was how you introduced him. You said that the boyfriend label didn’t quite cover it anymore. Hearing your voice happily declare his importance to you – “this is my partner, Neal” – made him smile involuntarily while a thread of possessive pride made his heart flutter.

           He tightened his arms gently around you to comfort himself. He was a conman with a subpar romantic resumé, but you were still here, you were happy. You’d told him that you loved him and given him a goodnight kiss only hours ago. Neal just… he needed to talk to you. He needed to know you understood what his past meant for your future together, and he needed to know that you were still looking forward to that future.

~~~ Take Note ~~~

           Neal wanted nothing more than to have an honest, candid discussion with you about his concerns, but even though his brain kept telling him that yes, it really was that easy, everything else in him screamed against it. Admitting he was concerned meant showing you a vulnerability. He didn’t think you would see a weak spot and attack, but some stupid part of his ego scolded him that you didn’t want a weak partner.

           The words finally found a way out on a Saturday evening while you were sitting in a hot bath, the water so warm that your skin was pinking a little. When you had extra time and not a lot of energy, this was what you did together after showering. You sat between Neal’s thighs and leaned back against his chest while he set his chin on top of your stringy, damp hair and held his arms around your waist. The fact that you were facing away from him made it less scary to talk about feelings that made him feel less secure.

           “Y/N,” he said, slowly drawing his thumb across your stomach, “If you weren’t happy, would you tell me and give us a chance to fix it?”

           “Of course,” you replied almost instantly, shifting your head with surprise. “That’s how relationship-ing works, Neal.”

           Not in my experience, he didn’t say. He knew his experiences weren’t the norm. When Alex wasn’t happy, she disappeared for a few months to who knew where. When it was Sara, they broke up without hardly trying.

           “I don’t have the best track record with these things,” Neal confessed with a bit of embarrassment. He was officially in his thirties and he was only now in his first solid relationship. “Y/N, you – you’re the first one I’ve really – in the real world. No pretenses, no ulterior motives from either of us.”

           “I know,” you said. He couldn’t see your face, but you sounded like you were smiling, and you nuzzled your head against his neck. “And that’s okay. You’re trying. We’re trying together, because we’re a team. That’s the important thing.”

           Neal bowed his head, pressing his cheek to the side of yours and shutting his eyes. He paid attention to your body against his, smaller but strong. He felt so at home, and he didn’t feel any need to try reading between your words. You said what you meant, and he didn’t feel the urge to analyze you. It was such a nice, relaxing little haven to have a home where he could let his guard down and feel totally safe.

           “Is there something in particular you’re worried about?” You asked when he didn’t respond, your tone worried now but still diplomatic. “Or anything you want to talk about?”

           He sighed and laid his lips against your temple for a second before he briefly explained that he had met an old acquaintance for coffee. He phrased it delicately so that you would know exactly what kind of acquaintance it was and didn’t ask too many uncomfortable questions. Neal relayed how this seemingly perfect couple had been devotedly in love for several years, then the civilian had finally decided she couldn’t handle her partner being in the criminal lifestyle and left.

           “I’ll admit, it’s a little awkward when my friends and family ask about you,” you admitted when he was done. “I usually mislead them, actually. There’s so much context and very few people are willing to really listen to it after they hear “ex-con”. Even my best friends think you’re a voluntary consultant.”

           Neal had never really thought about what your friends were told before, but that made him wince. This didn’t sound like a very good answer.

           “But,” you said with emphasis, gently squeezing his hands under the water. “Their knowledge and opinions aren’t the most important. Mine are. I don’t condone the choices you’ve made in the past, and I don’t think Peter was wrong to arrest you.” Your voice was apologetic but firm. Neal thought that was probably fair. “However, I’ve gotten to know you very well, I think, and there’s a lot more to you than a runaway with an eye for shiny things and a knack for planning around security cameras. Especially since prison,” you added, your last sentence softer.

           “You know that someone from my past came and took Elizabeth. Kidnapped her,” Neal explicitly rephrased.

           “Yeah,” you said with a shrug. “That happens. Bad people do bad things. Maybe being with you makes me more likely to be a target for those bad things, but that’s my choice. I love you, and I think you’re worth that risk. I admire the man you’ve grown into. Besides, we both know I’m not a hapless victim.”

           “If you were upset about something with… that part of my life,” Neal slowly said, tactfully avoiding any red flag words. “I wouldn’t want you to assume I can’t change.”

           “I know you can change,” you replied matter-of-factly with pride. “James Bonds wouldn’t have confessed to major crimes to feds for the possibility of having a stable life with friends and a nine-to-five. You did, not that long ago. It was risky and arguably stupid as hell, but it paid off.” You hummed with your head tilted slightly. “Maybe people don’t really change,” you amended, “But they do mature.”

           Neal pursed his lips, unsure he liked that word. “You think I’ve matured.”

           “I know you have. You can’t live through the things you’ve endured without maturing. No one can.”

           “For the better?”

           You stretched your neck and kissed his cheek. “Absolutely. I understand your concerns, love, and I promise if it becomes a problem, I’ll tell you, we’ll work on it. For the time being, I’m okay with the arrangement we have. I promise.”

~~~ Take Note ~~~

           Neal woke up on a Monday morning on his own, a few minutes before his alarm was set to ring. He looked up at the ceiling, luxuriating in the soft sheets underneath his bare back and the mold of his soft pillow around his head. After a moment, he rolled to his side and turned off the alarm function before it unnecessarily blared and found a light blue post-it note stuck on the edge of the table. He peeled it up and read your handwriting, telling him you had to leave early, but loved him very much and hoped he had a good day.

           He touched your side of the bed with a smile on his face. The linens were cool, but not as cold as the rest of the bed. You’d been gone a while. He sighed, content, and stretched out like a starfish before getting out of bed to put on some coffee.

           The artist ambled to the kitchen in his pajama bottoms, his bare feet padding across chilled hardwood flooring. He checked for the green light on the dishwasher before pulling out the coffee pot and setting it underneath the coffeemaker. After adding filtered water, he reached into the cabinet over the counter for his favorite bag of European coffee grounds and pulled it down with an additional crinkling of paper.

           There was another post-it stuck to his coffee, with a winking face drawn on it in sharpie underneath another little note. I love the taste of coffee on your lips when we kiss. – Your Y/N.

           He quietly chuckled and decided to leave the note on the coffee bag. It would make him smile tomorrow morning, too.

           While the coffee brewed, he went about his normal routine, taking a quick trip to the bathroom to rinse with minty mouthwash and brush his teeth, comb the tangles out of his short hair, and shave the stubble off of his jaw. Slapped onto the side of the mirror at a little below his eye level was another note in pale yellow.

           Check out your eyes in the mirror, gorgeous, because I love your beautiful eyes and how much affection they hold when you look at me. – Your Y/N.

           He couldn’t stop smiling, which was somewhat problematic when trying to shave.

           Neal went back out to the kitchen and poured a mug of coffee, adding a bit of creamer in to help it cool down faster and to take the edge off of the bitter flavor. As he stirred it in with a little red mixer, he walked to his dresser to pull out clothes for the day.

           A flash of pink against navy blue caught his eye and he moved his clothes to the side until he reached his pinstriped suit with the dark vest you liked so much. He chuckled before reading the note, already knowing what you were oh-so-subtly hinting at, and lifted the suit out of the closet while peeling up the post-it.

           You’re so handsome that sometimes I almost get jealous of myself for getting to have you. – Your Y/N.

           The rest of his routine was peppered with notes that must have taken you a while to write and place where you knew he would find them. He finished his coffee and had breakfast, finding a couple of notes in other places in the kitchen. Then, after his shower, he found a smaller post-it pressed to his favorite cologne. There was another tucked into his wallet which he found when he double-checked that he had his ID and enough cash for lunch.

           The notes ranged from that playfully sweet comment on his looks to tender, meaningful reminders of precious moments you had shared together. The one in his wallet encouraged him to do good at work today, because “you help people because you have such a kind heart.” They were all signed “your Y/N,” promising him with every single note that you weren’t going anywhere.

~~~ Take Note ~~~

           You came home late that night after seeing a new movie with a friend of yours. You normally went to the cinema with Neal, but he wasn’t super into action-packed movies with explosives and guns, so he passed on it. By the time you came back, Neal had found more post-its in innocuous places, like tucked into the pages of the book he was reading, stuck on the bottom of the television remote, slapped onto the wall above the washing machine, and more.

           Neal’s heart kept fluttering and he felt like it was your first or second date all over again. Each note had come from your heart, warm and genuine. You said that you admired his clever brain and his curiosity, his thirst to learn (with another note on one of his atlases that it was sexy when he spoke to you in other languages).

           You said, in no uncertain terms, that whatever he may have done in the past, you were far more impressed by his peaceful soul and his willingness to protect those who needed it. (As he read that note, Lindsay Gless came to mind.) You had never felt safer than when you were in his arms.

           Another yellow post-it told him that he had earned your trust. This note was longer than the others, because it acknowledged that others had erroneously believed the same in the past, but you explained in carefully-chosen words that you loved him, and you were willing to take that risk on behalf of the good man, deserving of love and trust and partnership, that you honestly believed him to be.

           “Love, I’m home,” you cheerfully called, taking off your shoes and dropping them by the door.

           Neal stood up from the couch and wrapped you up in his arms while you instantly relaxed against his chest. He rubbed a hand over your back and kissed the top of your head before he felt your hands at his cheeks, and he happily let you move his head so you could press several kisses to his lips.

           “I love you, my Y/N,” he said, slipping his fingers through yours and gently keeping your smaller hand against his face. “Are you the more romantic one now?” He teased a little. You used to rib him for being such a romantic, but he couldn’t help that he liked to be sweet.

           Your smile was innocent, but your eyes were not. “I have no idea what you mean,” you lied plainly, but you gave him another, deeper kiss. “But if being romantic means being totally crazy about you, then oops. You caught me.”

~~~ Take Note ~~~

           A few hours later, you came back from the bathroom to find Neal getting dressed for bed and a lime green post-it note stuck on the screen of your phone. You stole a glance at your boyfriend’s back with a smile playing across your lips, but he was focused – or at least pretending to be – on combing the product out of his hair.

           You picked up your phone and after reading the note, you decided to leave it on, at least until the morning.

           I swear that I’ll spend the rest of our lives together proving to you that I am worthy of your trust, your time, and your love. I love you so, so much. – Your Neal.

[fallout2282]

The Office of the President, Hall of Congress

Shady Sands, New California Republic

Yulia Arteaga sat in her office chair, fiddling with the Two Headed Bear Flag pin between her fingers. She unclasped it, bringing it up to her chest so that she might wear it at her heart, as was customary. It was a gift from her predecessor, a symbol of office. She wanted nothing of Kimball’s and she refused to watch as her staff moved his portrait into storage, replacing it with a painting to rival it, depicting her own visage. She stood for four hours so that the artist they commissioned, someone from her home state, the Boneyard, could accurately transfer her image to the canvas. She wore the pin in the painting too, a detail added afterwards. It had originally belonged to President Tandi, the Great Mother, before being passed along to Tibbett, Peterson, Kimball, and now her. It was a symbol of office, no matter what she wore, as long as she carried that pin it was like she like she radiated with the commanding aura of high office. Her predecessor, now retired against his will to some ranch outside the Hub, preferred old world style suits where as Yulia was often accused of looking something like a cross between a field hand and a factory worker. She liked the brahmin leather vest her Bear Flag was now pinned to, and the earthy tones of her checkered button up and slacks. She wore the same outfit in the painting. The artist thought it fitting, she was the young populist who was taking California by storm. Her majority in Congress was secure, now that Chief Hanlon won the race in Redding and was now Senator Hanlon. She was going to need the allies in the months to come as it became apparent making peace was far more complicated than making war. A detail Kimball neglected to mention when he handed over the keys to the Republic. Her train of thought was interrupted when the door to her office flew open.

“Yulia! You’ll never believe it. Dennis Crocker agreed to stay on until the drafting process for the treaty is finished. It’s just like you said, maybe he really is different from those other Kimball holdovers after all. He thinks you should meet with Chief Executive-” It was her aid, Maxim. He had been with her since her days as a labor organizer in Adytum. He managed her campaign for an Angel’s Boneyard council seat and didn’t even ask for an appointment to some cushy job in the bureaucracy. Although, being aide to the president came with similar guarantees of job security and long term financial security. 

“It’s Madame President now, Maxim.” She made the deals, led the censure, and cast the first vote of Kimball’s downfall. She earned her position. Now she just had to keep it, and that meant any deal with New Vegas had to insure the lights stayed on. At least until the project she arranged with the Followers of the Apocalypse was complete. It would be funny if it wasn’t so frustrating. The Mojave Campaign was Kimball’s war, and he lost his job over it. Now it seemed most of her job was picking up the pieces, when she had campaigned on an extensive program promising to fix the many problems at home. 

“The answer is no. I’ll give it my signature, but Crocker can shake that man’s hand. He knows if the deal screws us, I’ll screw him harder. I like the good Ambassador, but if he expects to come back to a career he has to earn it. Speaking of which, draw me up a list of candidates to take his place once the negotiations are finished. If his plan does work I’ll want him running for a seat here in the next election. I know Thaler’s will soon be up for grabs, and he might act like a friend, but we all know he didn’t vote with us when we got rid of Kimball. His days on the council are numbered.”

“Yes, Madame President. My apologies Madame President. I will send out word to the State Department to have a list drawn up at once. As for Councilman Thaler, we should avoid alienating him until after the vote tomorrow. He has been more than supportive of the Crimson Caravan inquiry. Alice McLafferty was forced out of her post in the Mojave branch, it’s practically an admission of guilt on their part. If he thinks we intend to endorse someone else for his seat, he could end up voting with Senator Morales. And if Morales rallies the governors then they will certainly shut down the investigation and shut down this investigation” her aide said with great uncertainty. She couldn’t blame him for his skepticism. Aaron Kimball was wildly popular until he wasn’t. All Yulia had to do was alienate the wrong person and she could lose her majority. Then it would be all over. 

“Have a little more confidence in me, Maxim. I didn’t win the Presidency for the novelty of it. I intend to hold on to this seat for as long as I can. The people aren’t so fickle as to turn on me yet. Thaler will vote for me because if he doesn’t again, then it is a certainty he will lose his seat. I might have been a councilor for Adytum, but I was born in Shady Sands. Now I represent all of California. And it’s about some time someone stood up to the merchant houses. And don’t call the representatives from Hub that, their heads are already big as it is” She was right, and Maxim knew it too when she said it. Yulia had always spoken truth to power, and now she was the power. Not the only one, granted. That’s just how it was in democracies. Still, that wouldn’t stop her from using the authority she was given to hold her colleagues to account.  

“We can discuss tomorrow’s vote later. There’s still a lot of other work to be done. Have we received a report from General Hsu yet? What’s the status of the withdrawal?” Military matters were the one aspect of governing she was new to. She had coordinated with the military in the past, back in Adytum during one of the multiple operations against the raider gangs that are pervasive in the Boneyard. Yet she only ever acted as a point of contact then, now she was Commander in Chief. 

Maxim cleared his throat, “Slowly, but surely Madame President. The General and the Ambassador were able to convince the new management in New Vegas to allow a handful of our forces to remain at the Dam and watch over our civilian personnel that will stay there. Long term arrangements haven’t been decided yet, but the General is unsure of the prudence in leaving the Dam in the hands of those... robots. He seems uncertain if we even have a choice in the matter. You’ve already seen the projections. A renewed conflict is not likely to be in our electoral interests. As for the full withdrawal to Mojave Outpost, we are expecting the last of our forces to be safely within the border in three weeks time.”

“Sooner we conclude this business the better. What of the Legion? The rangers set out after the battle to scout their territory and I’ve yet to see a report land on my desk. I would hate to leave our new friends on the Strip defenseless against such savages.” Yulia folded her arms, leaning back against the desk. 

“The robots were actually quite thorough in their assault on Fortification Hill. The military seems to think the enemy was quite completely demolished. Caesar had died three months earlier, reportedly of a botched attempt to remove tumors from his brain. As for the rest of the Legion’s leadership, they are all believed to have perished in the battle.” Now he was just rehashing what she already knew.

“What about the east? Arizona... New Mexico. Those places. I recall from the archives we sent scouts out that way decades ago. There are people out there. The Legion’s people. What will happen to them?” That was the real question. If Kimball had succeeded, if the NCR had annexed New Vegas, would they have been next? Would the NCR have kept going? Just like the old world. That she didn’t like to imagine. 

“Our commanders speculate what is left of the Legion will converge on Flagstaff. That I suppose you would call the Legion’s capital. It’s also where Caesar left his heirs, supposedly. General Hsu has assured us that the Legion isn’t a threat to the Mojave, let alone us here in California.” Maxim knew as much as she did. They would both be left to wonder until the rangers they sent east reported in. It could be months, and that’s if any of them managed to cross back over the Colorado. 

The Mojave Campaign began decades ago, back then the NCR only had to contend with the same raider tribes they had been fighting and beating for generations. Jackals, Vipers, Khans, all scattered to the wastes. The war with the Legion only began in 2277 when their warband attempted to seize Hoover Dam the first time. All the while her country was being bled try. More lives and more money than she could imagine. Costlier than every other war fought in California combined. Not mentioned in official reports, the rumor was General Lee Oliver died not at the hands of the Legion, but after the battle had already ended. Thrown off of the side of the dam by one of the robots that now defended New Vegas. She chose not to ask if it was true when she received her first briefing from the military, after all it allowed blame for the defeat to fall squarely on Kimball’s shoulders. And he deserved it. She wouldn’t make his mistakes. 

“I can’t tell if we were lucky, or unlucky. We won the battle and still lost the war.” She chuckled at the irony, at the sheer stupidity of it all. “We saved the damn... dam, and it doesn’t even seem like we’ll be able to keep it. First we get strung along by the seemingly-immortal Mr. House, and now we’re negotiating with a former Vault dweller with a gambling addiction? We clearly didn’t play our cards right, even though for all intents and purposes we had a winning hand.”

Maxim nodded in agreement, ever willing to play the sycophant. “Poor governance ultimately makes for poor policy decisions, Madame President. I believe you will lead us towards a much brighter future. One where the people of New Vegas are our friends, not subjects.” 

“Friends? We’ll just see what terms Crocker wins for us. I’ve no intention of getting us into another war, if that’s what your concern is. Still need to see about making states out of the territories up north before I go looking for more outside of our borders. Congress can’t deny the territories real representation forever. We give Arroyo and Klamath statehood, and I won’t have to worry about losing my majority for as long as I’m President.” She sighed, “First we need to see about officially ending this war and bringing our men and women in uniform back from the front. Once the withdrawal is complete we’ll set up the podium in front of the statue of Tandi in Republic Square. It won’t just be to welcome the troops home, but another state of the republic address.”

“Very good, Madame President. I also brought that report you requested last week. It took some time for the rangers to compile it. This one’s complete at least. I thought you would want to have a look at it before the committee did.” On the desk next to Yulia, her aide placed a folder that was so full of paper that it was nearly as thick as some of the books in her office. 

Yulia took one look at the folder’s contents, thumbing through the various pages of eye witness testimony collected in the Mojave and official statements by other officials in the NCR. This one file alone would could take up the rest of her afternoon just to read. “One question, Maxim.” She pursed her lips, her curiosity piqued. 

“What’s that Madame President?” “Who the hell is this Courier?” 

[superhackiblog-blog]

How to Make Money Betting on Horses

Have you ever desired to make cash with a certain fireplace betting program for horse races? Google the title of this posting and you can expect to obtain pages and pages of lies. I am certain there is a way to make a dwelling betting on horse races but it really is form of like the dude who would make a residing actively playing craps employing a controlled throw. If you examine techniques and test matters for many years and spend all your absolutely free time working towards, you may perhaps get superior ample to stop your working day occupation and make a good dwelling. That's not what this post is about. This short article is about possessing enjoyment at a observe and walking away with a little extra dough, everyday living hacker fashion. A existence hacker would not have to be an expert a some thing, he just requirements to be great sufficient to gain. For any hacker, a trip to the horse races brings up a host of concerns that will drive you nuts right up until you determine out how to go to the races and not lose your revenue. I am going to demonstrate you how. It all started final spring on a excursion to Tampa, Florida to look at my beloved Yankees in spring instruction. Seeking for points to do among procedures and video games my spouse and I resolved to commit an afternoon with previous men cigarette smoking cigars, scratching frantically on some newspapers, rolling those people papers up, yelling at horses, then crumpling up a bunch of minimal items of paper and throwing them on the floor though calling their buddy a "Shmuck" as he headed triumphantly toward the cashier's booth. This my fellow hackers is Tampa Bay Downs! My spouse found this scene each funny and uncomfortable at the exact same time, although I healthy in pretty properly. We identified some programs and watched as a couple of guys put bets and talked horses. I figured out how to guess, that was about it. Out of 6 races my spouse and I each and every picked a winner. 2 out of six, I am confident that was considerably better than most people today judging by the quantity of tickets remaining crumpled and thrown down just after each race, but it was not superior more than enough for a life hacker. Having said that, It was a entertaining way to shell out an afternoon right before the Yankees took on the Rays, but the fireplace burned in me for a though after I returned dwelling. I started scouring every short article I could about horse racing wanting for the hack. There were no solutions other than investing excellent amounts of time discovering the ins and outs of the small business. But that would be a total time task. I am seeking for a hack. A way to go up to the observe with unquestionably no back again-get the job done and make a killing. I've made a decision that there is no hack that will perform that effectively. But my hack is worthy of a attempt. I determined to attempt my hack through a operate vacation to Las Vegas. I had to do the job for three days then my wife was traveling out to devote the weekend with me. So I selected to use up my absolutely free time at the Sporting activities Guide and try my horse racing hack. It is simple and easy. You really don't have to purchase any kinds or costly "handicapper's idea sheet." You simply just get the job done off the odds. I am going to lay it out for you step by move. The Hack one. Glimpse at any race and find the odds on favored. I commonly do this with about five minutes remaining right up until put up time.   If you liked this short article and you would certainly like to obtain additional information relating to howrse hack kindly check out our own web-page. I like to know that my pick will possible however be valid occur race time. 2. Discover the 2nd and third preferred horses in the race primarily based on the present-day odds. three. If the 2nd preferred has odds of three to1 or even worse AND the third preferred has odds of four to one or even worse, Get a Earn for the odds on favorite horse. four. If the odds usually are not inline with what I described earlier mentioned, you should not trouble betting on the race at all. This functions ideal with simulcast like in Vegas given that you have tons of races to decide on from. But it will also work at a observe. When at the track I like to spot a $two demonstrate wager on a prolonged shot when the odds you should not do the job out for me to choose a winner. It really is not a superior bet but it provides me some fun for only $2 bucks. Other factors to feel about: - When the odds on the favorite are really lousy like one to 6, use your individual discretion. This horse will win ninety% of the time but you threat a whole lot for a prospect to get quite small. Often I just really don't guess and go get a scorching pet dog or some thing instead. - Be careful on genuinely shorter "sprint" design races and races where the keep track of is "sloppy." There as so quite a few variables in a race like this that it is tremendous really hard for the handicappers to even make the early morning lines. - If you have a large bank roll, I have located that I will have shedding streaks but in a day I will earn much more than I drop, so truly feel no cost to use a martingale process. My Effects in Vegas I squandered an whole afternoon of freetime and walked absent with $600 earnings. I also sat following to a guy who shed $1,two hundred.00! I believe I was part of the trouble. He was on Total Tilt the complete time mainly because he'd ordered each and every idea sheet, just about every race kind, etc and would spot all the "greatest" bets only to reduce them all whilst I received up soon after practically each and every race and cashed in a winner. It did not assist that he thought I was producing a killing because Frank the cashier saved yelling "Huge Winner," "He Strikes Again," "Handicapper Extrodinare," and crap like that.