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#because i had assumed that we did and then the head of the department said no bc they're for us to learn from
kittyhazelnut · 2 years
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guess who just lost another 5% of their professionalism grade for not handing in the papers that I was told we weren't supposed to hand in because they were for our benefit and not for the clinical instructors'? :D
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daddy-dotcom · 1 year
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Bang My Line
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Summary: You're Penelope Garcia's first intern, and you learn a lot more from her than just her technical skills.
Rating: M
Words:4, 357
Warnings: Fluff, typical canon violence mentions, smut ;)
*reblogs or comments r much appreciated*
Read my newest fic Scents and Sensibility out now 🤭
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The first day was a blur. It was scary enough to completely change career paths, but working for the FBI was an entirely different beast. Between what seemed like hundreds of background checks and interviews, I finally made it to my first day. Granted, I would just be an intern for now, but hopefully this would lead to a permanent position as a technical analyst. I waited in the lobby for Penelope Garcia, the woman who would be my mentor for the duration of my time with the BAU. We had spoken over the phone and even texted back and forth a bit, but this would be my first time meeting in person.
“There she is! My shiny new intern.”
“Hi you must be Agent Garcia,” I replied with my arm outstretched. She took it and gave what was the most enthusiastic hand shake I’ve ever seen.
“Oh honey, I’m way too fun for you to call me agent. Call me Penelope.” I shook my head in agreement and she led me towards the elevator.
“I know I gave you a rundown of the team via our text messages, but be prepared for them to ask you a million questions. You’re my first ever intern and they’re dying to meet the newest member of the team.”
“Duly noted, just know I’m going to be doing the same to you Penn because I’m a little out of my element here.”
“hmm Penn, I like the sound of that.”
As the elevator doors opened, I could see the rest of the team gathered around a desk, too focused on their own conversation to notice me and Penelope.
“Everyone, please welcome my first and only intern (Y/N).”
The man in the crisp black suit stood up first to greet me and introduced himself as Agent Aaron Hotchner.
“Penelope has not shut up about her new intern so it’s nice to finally put a pretty face to the name. I’m SSA Derek Morgan.”
I let out a bashful chuckle as I shook Morgan’s hand. Penelope did warn me that he could be a bit of a flirt. I was then greeted by a blonde woman who goes by JJ and an older man named Agent Rossi.
“Don’t tell me you write in pink sparkly gel pen too?” he jokingly asked.
I smiled and shook my head no, before being greeted by Agent Emily Prentiss.
“Don’t mind Rossi, it’s always nice to have another woman on the team to keep these boys in check.”
She gestured towards Morgan and the other agent beside her, who I can only assume is none other than Dr. Spencer Reid.
Penelope had described him as quote “Steven Hawking trapped in a young Bill Nye’s body.” What I didn’t expect was for him to actually be attractive. Sure, Agent Morgan and even Agent Hotchner were easy on the eyes, but Spencer Reid was strikingly handsome in the most unassuming way. The soft golden waves that covered the top of his head combined with those puppy dog eyes were enough to remind me how nervous I was to be joining the team.
“Nice to meet you (Y/N)” he said as he took my hand. My palms were beginning to sweat, but the steadiness of his firm grasp eased my nerves.
“Likewise,” was all I could manage to say. He held my gaze for what felt like both a moment and an eternity, before releasing my hand.
“Well, (Y/N), let’s get you briefed on your first case,” said Penelope.
I followed Penelope into the briefing room and decided to sit in the seat closest to the screen so that I could take notes on her presentation. To my surprise, Spencer took the seat next to me. As if I wasn't already a nervous wreck, his close proximity to me was going to make my writing even more illegible than usual. Still, I could get used to sitting next to the most handsome member of the team.
As Penelope wrapped up her presentation and the rest of the team departed on the jet, the bubbly blonde gave me a little tour of her office. Rossi wasn't joking about Penelope's love of glitter gel pens, and her desk was adorned with unicorn paperweights and mermaid statues.
"This is your workspace over here, (Y/N), although you'll mostly be assisting me for the first couple of weeks. Feel free to decorate your desk with as many unicorns as you please," she said.
The first hour or so of work was mostly getting situated in my new workspace, but we soon got our first call from the team, and it was from the man himself, Derek Morgan. Penelope pressed the button to answer the phone and his voice immediately came through the speaker for both of us to hear.
"It's your babygirl and her babygirl in training, what do ya need hot stuff?" said Penelope.
"Hey mama, I need you to look into Walter Price's bank activity for the last few months, see if there were any suspicious withdrawals or transfers."
"Anything for you gorgeous"
"Thanks babygirl, I'll be expecting your call back soon."
I sat with my mouth slightly ajar, looking over at Penelope dumbfounded.
"Do you talk to everyone on the phone that way?" you asked.
"Nope, just my sweet lover Derek Morgan."
I paused for a second before asking my follow up question, "so are you two like...in a relationship?"
"Only in my dreams," Penelope said with a wink. I let out a laugh because this whole situation surprisingly made me more at ease in my new job.
"As your intern, I guess it's my job to learn how to answer the phone like you?" I said with a wicked smile.
"Oh no my dear, at least, not yet. We've got a long way to go before you get to my level. And of course you'll have to find your own gorgeous man to talk dirty to, Morgan is already taken."
That definitely wouldn't be a problem, I already had the most gorgeous man on the team in mind.
I spent the next few weeks listening in on Penelope's phone calls and looking up information for her. I even got to help her present a new case to the team. After my first week, the team took me out to celebrate surviving my first case with the BAU. Even though I had become more comfortable around everyone on the team, I couldn't shake the butterflies Reid gave me whenever we interacted. However, I did notice that I was much more confident over the phone than in person. I tried to conceal my blossoming crush on Spencer as best I could, but I couldn't help but be the slightest bit sweeter to him whenever he was the one who called us.
During my second month of internship, we had a particularly hard time tracking down an unsub. Penelope was getting way too many names and she called Spencer to help her narrow down the list.
"There were traces of chlorine and calcium hypochlorite on the body which are chemicals commonly used in pool maintenance, Garcia narrow it down to men over 40 in the area who own pools or work in pool maintenance," he said.
"One name! It's Michael Dunlop, he works as a freelance pool maintenance man and, ooh get this, he hasn't responded to any jobs since the first murder on June 11th."
"Sending the address to your phones right now!" I interjected.
"Thanks (Y/N),"
"Anything for you, cutie" I said, with a sudden burst of confidence.
As I hung up with a satisfied look on my face, Penelope glanced over at me looking smug as ever.
"Cutie huh? That's a new one," Penelope said, "I knew I'd rub off on you sooner or later." And she was right. I started incorporating more color into my work wardrobe and I even brought my tiny stuffed cow to sit at my desk.
"You said I had to find my own gorgeous man to flirt with on the phone...so I did."
"I knew it! You have a crush on our genius boy-wonder!" She was positively giddy just by the thought of it. "I mean he's always sitting next to you and looking over at you when he thinks no one is noticing. You would think in a room full of profilers that I wouldn't be the only one to notice, and yet here we are."
It never occurred to me that my little crush might actually be reciprocated. Spencer was always a bit socially awkward, so I just assumed that he was the same way with me. I never once thought that he was actually as nervous to talk to me as I was to him. This fact somehow boosted my confidence even more, and I decided to have some fun with Spencer over the phone.
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"Cutie huh?" Morgan asked the blushing boy. Spencer was used to Penelope teasing him, but this was different. He had been harboring a small crush on their newest intern for the past month, and when she flirted with him over speakerphone for Morgan, of all people, to hear, Spencer couldn't help but turn as red as a tomato.
Of course, being a profiler, Morgan took notice of Reid's crimson cheeks. "Call me crazy but I think she likes you, pretty boy."
"O-of course not, she's just copying the way Garcia talks to you," Spencer stuttered.
"That may be true, the only difference is that you have a little crush yourself."
Spencer didn't bother trying to lie since he knew Morgan would see right through him, so he just mumbled something about Prentiss and Hotch needing them at the location (Y/N) sent.
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It was a lot easier to flirt with Spencer when he wasn't physically in front of me. When we were in the office together, we'd shoot each other smiles from across the room or he'd bring me an extra coffee in the morning. But when he was out in the field and I was back at my desk at the BAU, it was a whole different game. I tried my hardest to make him blush over the phone any chance I got, and it seemed to be working. After Penelope found out about my little crush, she decided to play matchmaker and slip Spencer my work phone number to call me instead for information. For the first time, I heard my phone ring instead of Penelope's and I immediately answered.
“Give it to me good baby, what do you need from me?” I replied. I knew it was Spencer since he was the only one who had my number.
"Hey (Y/N)" he said, and I swear I could hear him smiling through the phone. I could tell he had become more comfortable with our one-sided phone flirting over the past month. "I need you to look up all of Dr. Gupta's patients at the psychiatric clinic for the past 3 months, see if any of them drive a black van."
"You got it, gorgeous. If you need anything you know you can always bang my line."
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“You have (Y/N)’s number?” JJ asked.
Spencer looked puzzled, “Yea.. don’t we all?”
“I think it’s just you pretty boy” Morgan quipped, as he chuckled and gave him a pat on the back.
Spencer had grown fond of (Y/N)'s phone flirtation, but he was too embarrassed to return the favor in front of his colleagues. He loved watching her walk around the office in her high heels, trying to keep up with Penelope's fast pace. He knew brief glances and morning coffees weren't going to cut it anymore, he had to do something before her internship was over. So he decided to call her on his way home from working the case.
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The team had just finished a case and were on the plane headed back to Quantico. Penelope had plans so she left me to wrap things up in the office. Just as I was making my way towards the door, my phone began to ring. Confused, I picked up the phone and listened to see if it was a misdial.
"Hey babygirl."
I nearly choked when I realized who was speaking. My body involuntarily shivered and my heart quickened its pace. This "babygirl" hadn't come from Morgan, it was Spencer on the other line.
"Hi Spencer! What's up I thought you guys wrapped up the case?" I asked in a confused tone.
"We did, but I thought I'd call you without everyone else around." His voice sounded sultry and silky smooth, unlike his usual rapid rambling, and it made it so much harder for me to speak. "We should be landing in about twenty minutes, stay in your office and I'll meet you there."
"Okay, I'll be waiting here, handsome."
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Those twenty minutes were the longest twenty minutes of my life. I knew Spencer had a crush on me as well, but what could he possibly want to meet with me for? Was he going to ask me to stop flirting with him on the phone? Was he going to ask me out? Was he trying to make out with me? God I secretly hoped it was the latter...
Just as I had been getting lost in my own thoughts, I heard the familiar voices of the rest of the team down the hall. I knew Spencer would be walking into my office any minute, so I nervously fixed my hair and applied the lipgloss Penelope gave me.
"Hey babygirl," said the tall man standing in the door frame.
"Hi Spencie," I said with a smile as I called him the nickname I lovingly gave him, which I'm sure he secretly hates. I couldn’t help but grin since the word “baby girl” still seemed so foreign coming from his mouth. I stood up to meet his gaze as he slowly made his way over to my desk.
"I know you've been teasing me these past couple weeks," he said as we closed the gap between our bodies. I would say our faces were inches from each other, but he was impossibly tall and my face didn't reach past his chest, "but now its my turn to tease you," he said as he brought his hands behind my ears and pressed his lips onto mine. He was gentle and tentative at first, but I passionately pressed my lips back against his to deepen the kiss. I ran my hands through his gorgeous locks and began to tug. We quickly became a breathless mess and I couldn't help the feeling building in the pit of my stomach. His hands traveled down to my waist and he gingerly pulled me closer. He was both hesitant and passionate, not quite sure if he should act on his instincts. He pulled back for just a second to speak:
"I know you only have a few weeks left with us, but would you like to get coffee sometime?" he asked with those same puppy dog eyes that made me fall for him in the first place.
"Oh Spencie, we're a bit past coffee don't you think?" I said with blushy cheeks. "Let's get dinner sometime, I'm free any night except Tuesday, I have Zumba class with Penelope."
"She really has influenced you a lot hasn't she?" he said, making a mental note of the pink scrunchie in my hair.
"In more ways than one hot stuff."
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Over the next few weeks, I spent my days phone flirting with Spencer at work and my nights making out with him in my office or eating Chinese take-out in his apartment. No one on the team, not even Penelope, knew about our brewing workplace romance, and we intended to keep it that way until I was hired permanently. However, that didn't stop him from flirting back on our calls. I was on my last week of internship and I was now the only one who Spencer called when he needed information. Spencer and I had agreed to take it slow, but our most recent calls had me desperate to find out what else he was packing besides the gun strapped to his hip. Just then, a call interrupted my wandering thoughts and I immediately picked up knowing it was him.
“Dayton Ohio you're on the air" I answered in my sexiest voice possible.
"I'd like to make a request," Spencer replied.
"You can request anything you want, doctor" I could hear him chuckle behind the phone before telling me what he actually needed.
"I need you to look up a marketing firm by the name of Firsthand Media and see if they have any connections to the colleges of the first set of victims."
"I'm on it, sugar" I answered.
"Oh and one more favor, look up the words beautiful and brilliant and see what you can find."
"Look at that, it's me"
"You're the best (Y/N)"
I could feel Penelope's eyes on me before she turned around and said
"I've never been more proud."
The rest of the day was filled with calls from the other agents to Penelope, mostly Morgan, until that evening when I got one last call from Spencer. He asked me to see if there were any men who had been admitted to the hospital in the last 6 months for brain injuries, but no one came up.
"Couldn't find anything, looks like you're going to have to punish me Spencie," I replied.
"You'll just have to wait til I get back for that"
He hung up, and I couldn't believe what I just heard. Penelope and I were in shock that Spencer Reid could be so dirty. For once, I was the one blushing on the other end.
"(Y/N) I swear to god if you don't let that man make sweet love to you I am personally writing your letter of resignation"
"Penn! We just flirt is all, like you and Morgan, I could never actually be with him"
"So you two haven't been using my sacred office space to make-out between cases?" she asked with raised eyebrows. I stood there, with my mouth open and eyes wide, looking guilty as ever.
"You do know there's a camera in this office right?" I was mortified. Thank God we'd never done anything more than kiss in this office.
"You knew this whole time? Why didn't you say anything?"
"Oh Morgan knows, but everybody else is still in the dark because I didn't want to risk you not getting hired. And I hacked into the security computers and deleted the footage."
"Thank you so much Penn, and I promise I won't have anymore heated makeout sessions in this office, or anywhere in this building for that matter."
"Anything for my little protege. But in all seriousness, you should definitely ride boy-wonder off into the sunset and make it official once you're hired."
"Penelope!" I hit her in the arm, only half jokingly because I knew deep down that that's exactly what I should do.
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As usual, I waited in my office for Spencer to meet me. But this time, I was determined to go back to his apartment and finish what we started over the phone.
"Hello beautiful" he said as he made his way over to me. He greeted me with a hungry kiss and it took every ounce of strength I had not to pin him down and ride him in this office.
"Spencer listen, we can't makeout in this office anymore. Garcia and Morgan know about us already and she had to delete the footage off of the security cameras."
"Morgan knows? That present he gave me actually makes a lot of sense now."
"Nevermind that," I said before moving closer to whisper in his ear, "what I need now is for you to punish me like you said you would."
I could feel his heart beating out of his chest, his eyes went wide but faintest hint of a smile appeared on his deliciously soft lips.
"well then what are we waiting for" he said as he grabbed my hand and practically pulled me out of the office.
We wasted no time getting back to his apartment. Reid was always such a cautious driver, but this time he was driving like his life depended on it. Once in the building, he wouldn't let go of my hand and we were practically sprinting towards his door. He fumbled with the key for a moment before the door sprang open and I pushed him inside with the force of my lips on his. His hands had become quite comfortable exploring my body, and tonight was no exception. I tugged on his tie without breaking the kiss and he let out a heavy sigh as I led him towards his bedroom. I pushed him once again, this time down onto the bed, and I practically jumped on top of him to straddle his waist. As I let my weight rest on the growing bulge in his pants, he let out the sexiest groan and I could feel the wetness pooling in my panties. I continued to grind on him as we completely devoured each other. This wasn't the first time we'd done this, but this time it was different, we both wanted more.
"Spence please," I whined, "I need you."
"You can have me baby," he replied, looking up at me with those puppy dog eyes that I adore so much.
We quickly undressed and I raced to climb back on top of him.
"You really are beautiful," he said while tucking a loose strand of hair back behind my ear. I smiled back at him and gently kissed his lips before going back to grinding over his now bare cock.
His groans were like music to my ears and I couldn't help but sighing at the feeling of him gliding across my exposed cunt.
"Baby please, I want to be inside you," he pleaded.
"Do you have a, uh, condom?" I asked, somewhat sheepishly.
"I do...that was actually the 'gift' that Morgan got me," he said followed by a nervous chuckle. He reached into the drawer on the bedside table and, slightly trembling, opened the package.
"I-I just want you to know that I haven't done this in a while, (Y/N)," he began, "I don't know if I'll be any good." He was just as nervous as I was. I gave him a sympathetic nod before replying.
"It's okay Spence, it's been a while for me too. I guess you could say we get pretty caught up in our work."
"Agreed," he said, slightly more at ease.
As soon as he finished up rolling on the condom, I wasted no time lining him up with my entrance and sinking onto his length.
"Fuck, baby" he moaned with his eyes screwed shut "you feel so good." It was insanely hot to hear such foul language come out of Spencer Reid's mouth.
"You want me to ride you baby?" I asked teasingly.
"Yes please..."
I began to bounce rapidly on his dick, feeling every inch of him come in and out of me. I had a feeling he wasn't going to last long, but I didn't care, I was beyond happy to just watch the pleasure that I was bringing him. I took his hands and placed them on my breasts, which caused a simultaneous moan to come from the both of us.
"God (Y/N) you're going to make me cum" he said, nearly out of breath.
I knew he was close, but I was slowing down as my legs began to give out on me. He sensed the slowing of my pace, so he took one hand from my breast, wrapped it around my waist, and began to pump into me from below.
“Consider this your punishment babygirl”
This new angle was heaven to me and I couldn't help but cry out. He was fucking me so hard I swear I could see stars.
"Oh god Spence," I moaned. For someone who has been out of the game for a while, he was making me feel so good.
"I'm gonna...I'm..." he muttered.
"Let it out Spence, cum for me baby."
And with that, he spilled his load inside the condom. He just kept coming and coming inside of me until there was nothing left. Spencer Reid was utterly and completely spent.
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“Well Dr. Reid, you sure know how to please a woman,” you said poking him in the rib.
“What can I say, I’m an overachiever,” he replied with a cocky smile plastered on his face.
As I was about to go in for a kiss on his cheek, my cellphone rang, and it was a call from Penelope.
“Hello my pretty! Sorry in advance that I’m probably interrupting your sexy times with boy-wonder but I just couldn’t wait to tell you. You got the job!”
“Oh my goodness! That’s great news, thanks Penn! What department am I in?”
“You’re going to be working in the international intelligence department, aaaaand that means you’ll probably have to report your little romance directly to human resources.”
“Sounds good Garcia, we’ll take care of that first thing in the morning,” Reid interjected.
“Ah, so boy-wonder is there with you! Looks like you took my advice after all (Y/N),” Penelope replied.
I rolled my eyes and said “Goodnight Penelopeeee” in a sing-songy voice.
“Goodnight you two, be safe and don’t stay up tooooo late.”
“Aww, what ever happened to the fun Penelope Garcia?”
“She’s not here right now but leave a message, bye!” And with that our conversation was over.
“Guess it’s time to tell the rest of the team about us”
“I guess so Spence, good luck handling all the teasing on your own baby,” I said with a giggle and planted a kiss on his cheek before drifting off to sleep. Tomorrow was surely going to be an interesting day at the office.
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AN: Thanks for all the love, shameless plug for my newest oneshot The Visit
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phant0mth1ef · 3 months
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bakugou x blunt business course reader hcs / let me know if you guys want little drabbles of this!!
- usually business course students wanted to create their own companies, but there were a select few like you and some others that agreed to take on the challenge of trying to market heroes as approachable and attractive!
- he’s known your name since first year due to your placement in the sports’ festival, honestly with your quirk he was surprised you didn’t take the hero track. anyways his nickname for you was “wasted potential business course extra.”
- the first time he actually talked to you was in second year when the teachers had told the hero course students to get more invested with those in the business course, stating that one day they’d be in charge of each and every career.
- was a pain in the ass when he first met you, like he literally sucked and you dreaded every meeting.
“hello… bakugou?” you said skimming down the list of potential heroes you were supposed to meet with.
“yeah, what?” you knew getting people to like him was going to be even harder than getting people to like another client of yours, monoma.
“don’t take that tone with me, i’m basically launching your career.” you typed away on your laptop as the boy sulked in a chair, listening to everything you said.
“as i was saying, marketing yourself in a way similar to best jeanist can have either a good outcome, they’ll approve of you. or a bad outcome, they’ll call you a copycat.”
“tch.” so he ignored your advice and launched his career in a way similar to the pro hero’s and ended up getting insane backlash to the point where you had to step in and try to completely rebrand him.
eventually you got people to start referring to him as the blast hero.
“people are calling me blasty boy.”
“wow. that’s really unfortunate for you! anyways, what’s your height? this company wants to interview you for their tall men friendly jeans.”
- hated meeting with you because of how blunt and honest you were, but also grew to like you because whenever you complimented him, he knew you were genuine.
- would try to blow off meetings just for you to find him and drag him back to the business course meeting rooms, your quirk was something similar to blackwhip so he couldn’t ever really get out of your hold.
- once he realized how popular he was quickly getting thanks to you, he started to actually value the time you’d been putting into making him an admirable hero, but he couldn’t say the same for monoma who, no matter what you did, could not be saved in the publicity department.
- would never thank you, at least not directly.
“i guess this is where we part ways.” you told him at your last meeting before graduation.
“… i guess so. 🧍🏻 thanksorwhatever.” he spoke fast, as if he’d run out of words before leaving.
- even though he said he hated you on countless occasions, he couldn’t deny that he’d begun to miss you when you weren’t around. going so far as to find your contact and call you up once he started his own agency.
“you want me so bad.” you said as you walked in, your briefcase in hand as you shoved the boy to the side, headed up to your new office.
“no i don’t! just need help. s’all!” he was so easy to piss off it was so funny.
- you made him take modeling gigs when his approval ratings were low.
- one time you both went to grab dinner and people assumed you were on a date and you guys just never corrected them and continued to do stuff like that.
- eventually you fell into a routine, and although he never explicitly asked you out, you’d moved into his apartment, did couple things like kiss and stuff, and were always around each other.
- even he thought you were dating until you got interviewed once.
“a boyfriend?… no.” you were so oblivious it was crazy, he had to tell you afterwards that he thought you were his girlfriend.
“WE’RE DATING?” you were completely shocked and he just stood like like a statue.
“YOU DIDN’T KNOW?!”
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cxrrodedcoffin · 3 months
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Jealousy, Jealousy - Spencer Reid
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Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!
Summary: Spencer and reader are both BAU agents in a secret relationship and a charity gala has reader tired of hiding.
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: Trying something different with the first person perspective here! bc of that I did have to use y/n twice so sorry for that lol. This is later seasons but pre-prison Spencer, so he’s a little more sure of himself and in return more dominant without being fully there. I promise I’m working on a few sub!spencer fics right now but I stumbled across this old fic of mine while going through my past works and I was dying to rework it because I wasn’t happy with what it was before lol.
TW: jealousy, angst, kissing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, afab reader, use of “girl” in reference to reader.
Rating: R, 18+ only please!
——
We’d already been here for three hours and I was growing weary watching Spencer make awkward conversation with every person at this charity gala. There were hundreds of people neither of us knew in this room, but bureaucratic duty required the both of us to make small talk with everyone no matter the department. Heaven knows Spencer didn’t have any intention beyond professional with these people, and I certainly didn’t either as it came with the territory of being BAU agents, but somehow I couldn’t help but find the jealous side of me rearing its ugly head with every attractive colleague that looked his way.
I’d kept my distance, allowing him the space he needed to not seem too attached. I knew how important it was that everyone assumed we were both single, interpersonal relationships between agents aren’t exactly looked highly upon here. Still, watching him talk the ear off of another woman had that familiar blossom of insecurity blooming in my chest. No matter how clueless he was, I knew just how many women and men in our professional vicinity would risk a lot to be with Spencer, and they figured that maybe given the right set of circumstances, perhaps they’d have the opportunity. He never gave them that privilege of course, even though we weren’t public with our relationship, we knew what we were, and he never betrayed that trust.
Still, as he was approached by a particularly tall, gorgeous redhead I found myself growing more and more jealous. He said something and she laughed a little too hard, laying her right hand on his bicep and tossing her hair over her shoulder with the other, and the green eyed monster returned, fiercer than ever. A tear slipped down my cheek as I watched, but I quickly wiped it away, fighting to keep my composure.
When he finally broke away from her, I made my way through the sea of elegantly dressed attendees, whispering his name to catch his attention. He turned to me, features softening as he registered my features.
“Is something wrong?” He asked, concern lacing his tone.
“I’m not feeling well, I’m going to head home.” I told him, forcing a reassuring smile so as not to worry him.
“Would you like me to come with?” He whispered, brushing his hand against my arm, just as the redhead had done to him. Such a simple, loving gesture, and the thought of someone who was not me doing it to him made my blood boil. I shook my head, giving him one last look of reassurance before gathering the top of the skirt of my overly detailed gown in my hands and making my way out of the ballroom and ordering an uber.
When I got back to his apartment, I kicked my heels off haphazardly the second the door locked behind me before stumbling to his bedroom. I don’t know why I’d come back to his apartment, I should’ve gone to mine, but I didn’t want to. I was sick of the hiding, the secrecy. I wanted him. I wanted to live with him. I wanted to be with him.
I reached around to the zipper on the back of my dress, roughly pulling it down halfway before it got caught, the expensive fabric bunching under the hardware. I pulled as hard as I could, desperate to get out of the increasingly suffocating garment, but my attempts seemed in vain as the zipper stayed put.
All the emotions I’d been holding in throughout the night boiled to the surface, showing themselves in the form of hot, frustrated tears. I collapsed face first onto the bed, letting the plush bedding consume me as I folded my arms beneath my cheek, feeling the wetness gather against my skin. I let it all out, quiet sobs wracking my body as I groveled in my jealousy, the physical pain of the restrictive fabric only doubling my emotions.
I didn’t know how long I’d been laying there, but his hand on my shoulder broke me out of the jealousy fueled haze I’d been locked in.
“Y/n? Why didn’t you go home? What’s wrong?” His voice sounded fuzzy as I quickly stood to face him, wiping away my tears.
“I don’t want to go back there Spencer, I want here to be home. I’m not home if I’m not with you. I’m so sick of hiding. I want to be yours.” I blurted, too overwhelmed to think about what I was confessing.
“You are mine.” He whispered.
“I don’t believe you.” I responded.
“There’s no one else y/n, you know that.” He continued, but it did little to calm me.
“All those women at the gala, touching you, flirting with you. I don’t want to have to sit back and watch it anymore. I die a little every time I see it.”
“Y/n, you know I don’t-“
“I know! You don’t enjoy any of it, I get that, but they do! They want you, Spencer, and I can’t bare the thought of losing you to one of them.” I confessed, tears welling in my eyes again.
“That won’t happen.” He said, a kind of sureness in his tone.
“How do I know that?” I asked.
“Because you’re the only one I want. You’re the only one that understands me for who I really am. I don’t care about them, not the way I care about you. I’ve never cared about anyone as much as I care about you.”
“I love you, y/n.” It rolled off his tongue as if they were the truest words he’d ever spoken, and as he placed his hands on my hips I practically melted under his touch.
“I love you too.” I breathed, looking up at him doe-eyed, lip quivering as I held back the tears of contentment fighting to escape my waterline.
“I’m yours.” He whispered, pulling me into him before crashing his lips to mine. I turned to putty in his hands, hanging on his every touch as he pulled away and spun me around, large hand resting on my exposed shoulder as the other worked carefully to untangle my zipper, finally allowing the fabric of the gown to fall from my frame.
His lips met my neck, sucking hungrily against my blushed skin and I brought my hand to rest in his brunette curls, holding him steadily against me. He pressed his hips flush against my lower back, his member growing hard as he marked my neck, drawing his swollen lips over the purple patches forming across the sensitive skin of my neck.
I whimpered as he nipped at my pulse point, nimble fingers undoing my bra before letting it join my gown on the floor, immediately cradling my breasts in his soft grip. I rolled my hips back against him, earning a deep groan as my free hand moved to palm him through his fitted slacks.
“Let me prove how devoted I am to you.” He breathed, spinning me back around before laying me slowly onto the bed. I propped myself up on my elbows, watching as he removed his suit jacket, then undid the buttons of his dress shirt one by one, maintaining eye contact as he undid his belt and dropped his pants and underwear, leaving him bare for me to take in.
He knelt at the edge of the bed, taking my ankles in his grip before parting my legs, placing a soft kiss to the small dip on the inside of my ankle. He looked up at me, his gaze never leaving my face as I watched him plant wet kiss after wet kiss up the expanse of my leg before repeating the action on the other, the intimate act arousing me more and more by the second.
When he finally reached my left upper thigh, he lingered, drawing his tongue over the apex of my thigh to my panties, licking a flat stripe over the soaked panel of fabric, drawing a panting moan from my throat. He locked eyes with me, placing a kiss over my clit before taking the waistband between his teeth and letting it slap back against my hip, earning a whimper from me.
He gripped either side of my hips, taking my underwear in hand before pulling them slowly down my legs and discarding them across the room.
I watched transfixed as he kissed his way up my body, leaving soft magenta marks blooming like peonies over my damp skin, paying special attention to my breasts.
“You’re perfect.” He mumbled, tongue tracing around my nipple as I blushed at his words.
“I want to devour every inch of you.” He continued, taking the stiff peak gently between his teeth and tugging, sending a delicious mix of pain and pleasure to every nerve ending in my chest.
“Then do it.” I gasped, relaxing back into the bed. He hummed against me, flicking his tongue over my breast as his other hand slid between my thighs, cupping my cunt. He dipped his index finger to part my folds, already swollen and sticky and dripping with need. I wanted him, and although this certainly was not the first time we’d had sex, I was finally going to have him, all of him.
“So wet…” He trailed off, dragging his mouth up the expanse of my neck before drawing me into a kiss, deep and warm and full of a fire I’d never felt from him before. It’s like his confession had set something free in him, torn down a wall or two, uncaged the animal of desire within him.
“All for you.” I whimpered, pulling him down into another kiss.
He pressed two fingers in slow, pressured circles against my swollen clit, his full lips swallowing every last one of my needy moans and whimpers. Any other night I would’ve reveled in it, secretly loved the slow burn of his teasing, but I was far too emotional for that tonight, and I couldn’t put up with not having him inside of me anymore.
“I need you.” I whined, rutting my hips up into him.
“What do you want me to do, my love?” He asked. I huffed, knowing the game he was playing.
“Please Spence, I need you inside of me. Fuck me, show me what I mean to you.” I practically moaned as he continued rubbing harsh circles against my clit.
“That’s my girl, always so eager.” He praised, snaking his hands around the back of my thighs and lifting to wrap my legs around his hips.
He rubbed himself slowly through my folds, properly coating his cock with my slick before aligning the head at my slit, ready and inviting him in. He pushed slowly into me, a low groan slipping from his clenched jaw as he savored every inch of my wet heat and I met him with a tight embrace, gasping at the way he filled me.
I’d never felt so connected before, like I could feel him in every fiber of my being and as he was seated fully inside of me I felt whole, like we were made for each other.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss before he pulled almost completely out, pausing before pushing back in, my wetness making it almost embarrassingly easy. He angled his hips upward, knowing how quickly I’d crumble beneath him with the repeated brush of his cock against that soft spot inside of me.
He looked down at me, a certain warmth spreading over his dilated pupils as he halted his hips and opened his kiss-swollen lips to speak.
“It’s only you. Forever.” He purred, pushing the stray hair from my face before kissing my temple and pistoning his hips forward, punctuating his words with a deep thrust.
Each roll of his hips against mine had my muscles contracting, pulling him closer in every way, never wanting this to end. His rhythm remained steady as he picked up his pace, driving the pressure building inside of me ever closer to bursting.
I snaked one of my hands into his hair, gripping tight as the other found his bicep, matching my grip. I needed to hold him, to feel him, to know that having him here like this wasn’t all a dream. His groans and pants filled the thickening air, like a melody in my ear, mingling with my own and the almost feral “mine” that ripped from his throat on a particularly hard thrust had me crying out for him, clawing at his arm as he repeated the intensity.
I was close, so close and as I felt his cock twitch inside of me I knew he was too. I locked my ankles around his hips, holding him inside of me as he rolled his hips quickly, head dropping onto my shoulder. The continued stimulation of that spot, the sweet spot inside of me only he could hit became too much, bringing stars to my eyes as I cried out his name, euphoria so strong I couldn’t feel my legs as I dug my nails so hard into his arm that I had surely drawn blood.
“I’m yours.” He groaned, hips faltering as he filled me, my cunt still pulsing around him with every spurt of warm cum.
Everything after that was a blur of being held in his arms, whispered I love you’s, and gentle caresses.
“We’ll go to HR as soon as possible, I don’t care what paperwork they want us to fill out or how much shit we’ll get from Morgan, I want everyone at that gala tonight to know that I love you.” He broke the silence, his words a final cementing comfort.
No more hiding, no more sneaking around, no more secrets. Only the two of us.
——
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shuahoonie · 1 year
Text
warm on a cold night | kim mingyu
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pairing: non-idol!mingyu (svt) x female!reader
notes: college au! fluff, pet names, the great wall of mingyu, fake dating for convenience? maybe questionable relationships (aka mingyu what are we), a bit of angst— nothing too serious, alcohol consumption, a clingy and touchy mingyu. loosely based on the song warm on a cold night by HONNE
word count: 3.6k (a bit of a long one, sorry!)
summary: there was no denying that mingyu looked like he was carved out from the gods, that's why he keeps getting asked out.
yet every poor person's attempt of asking him out is often met with rejection. the reason? you two are *supposedly* dating (on the dl), he would say. the truth? you two aren’t.
part of the to x, with love mini series
shuahoonie's masterlist | to x, with love masterlist
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"kim mingyu, can you please enlighten me why the girls that i just passed by from the engineering department literally gave me the nastiest side eye?" you raised a brow at mingyu who was crouched over at the student lounges by the engineering department. you set the coffee and cake at the nearby empty table.
upon hearing your voice, mingyu looked like a child on christmas morning as soon as he saw you.
“baby!” mingyu came running, tackling you with a huge hug, abandoning the plates he had been working on. “i missed you!” he said, almost excruciatingly loud, turning a few heads over your way.
“yah,” you smacked the back of his head, causing him to groan and let go of the hug almost immediately. “i told you to quit calling me that!”
“you don’t like being called honey nor sweetheart either,” mingyu mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.
“it’s because my parents call me that,” you replied, getting sidetracked. “but that’s not the point—“
“would you rather i call you kitten, instead?” he asked in a suggestive tone, wriggling his eyebrows.
“why you—“ you were ready to let out a string of curses, a hand also ready to smack the living daylights out of him, before mingyu grabbed you from behind and wrapped both his arms around you— one to press over your mouth and one to stop your hand from hitting him.
“kitten, let’s not get violent.” mingyu said, trying to calm you down.
“yn, are you being held hostage by your own boyfriend?” jihoon asked in amusement as he passed by you two.
you pulled away mingyu’s hand that was pressed against your lips, “yes, but he’s not my boyfriend.”
mingyu, who still stood there behind you, rested his chin on top of your head and continued to wrap his arms around you.
“not according to the people from the music department,” jihoon replied with a smirk. “and this,” he gestured to the position that you two are in “is not helping.”
“uji, what are you doing in the engineering department anyway?” mingyu asked, “are you here to see me because you miss me?” he teased.
“no, because why would i even do that," jihoon looked disgusted upon hearing mingyu's comment, making mingyu pout. "besides, unlike some people, i don’t have to run from one end of the campus to the other just to see someone,” jihoon replied, the comment more so directed at you.
“i did not run on my way here,” you rolled your eyes, feeling defensive all of a sudden. “and i’m here because this 6 ft tall baby won’t stop blowing upmy phone, saying he wanted coffee.”
“and yet you’re here,” jihoon said in a teasing tone, enough to make you charge at him— you could’ve though, if wasn’t for mingyu who’s still latched to you.
“and my baby’s here with iced americano,” he said, letting go of you and grabbing the coffee instead. “and cake?” his eyes almost sparkled upon seeing the familiar takeout box from his favourite dessert place aka cheollie and jeonghan’s cafe. “oh, you truly love me.” mingyu chuckled softly.
you snorted. “yeah, right.” it’s always complicated with you two. you never knew where things crossed and you assumed neither did mingyu.
“okay, it seems like i’m intruding,” jihoon mumbled “i need to go, i have to meet vernon by the library soon— have fun you two.” jihoon said with a smile. “oh, and do not forget, we’re all meeting at seungcheol’s café on saturday. the man gets sulky whenever we don’t go all out on his birthday,” he added before he left you two alone.
“wait, i’ll come with you, uji!” you said to jihoon before turning to mingyu who was already pouting. “i need to go, gyu. good luck on your plates!” you smiled at him and gently tapped his cheek.
“you’re not staying with me?” mingyu was getting sulky “but you just got here.” he whined.
“i only came here because you kept calling my phone, you’re lucky i didn’t block your number.” you said, half-joking— on the latter part, of course!
“you’d never do it anyway.” mingyu said with a smug smile.
“only because you’ll tell my mom and i will never hear the end of it.” you sighed. “i swear she loves you more than me.”
"it's because she has taste," mingyu stuck his tongue out at you, making you roll your eyes "unlike her daughter who will purposely leave me alone to fend for myself."
"you are so dramatic, i swear to god," you grumbled loud enough for mingyu to hear. being the menace that he is, he threw a balled-up straw wrapper at you. "okay, i'm going, bye." you said in one breath and ran to catch up with jihoon, not even bothering to look back.
"without even a kiss or anything?!" mingyu yelled obnoxiously, urging you to run faster.
jihoon caught glimpse of you and stopped so you can catch up, and catch your breath. "you okay?" jihoon asked in amusement.
you nodded. "yeah, let's go. don't want to keep nonie waiting," you said in between breaths. "mingyu better bring me food later because he pulled me from having a main character moment from the cafe." you huffed.
"are you sure you and mingyu are just friends?" jihoon asked with a raised brow.
"uji, just because you wound up dating your best friend, that doesn't mean the rest of us would have to do it too," you said teasingly. it wasn't a joke per se. "except for jeonghan, because you know, he hates being one-upped."
jihoon rolled his eyes, but it was evident he was turning red. "we won't tease you— if that's why you are so secretive about it." jihoon commented "although, i have to be honest, you two are more clingier than me and my partner."
"that's because you detest any form of physical affection," you pointed out.
"might i remind you that you also used to hate that too," jihoon proclaimed "until mingyu practically latched on to you like glue."
you ignored jihoon’s comment, mostly because he was right, but you’re not willing to admit that just yet. "it wasn't like he made me uncomfortable or anything— and i did say yes to the whole ‘if anyone asks, can i tell them that we’re dating’ thing, since it was bothering him" you rambled "he just said people wouldn't take his rejections seriously so he had to show people that he wasn't interested."
"so, what, is this a complicated way of projecting that you two are fake dating?"
"i guess so," you sighed. "i mean, i guess it's working because no one really bothered him anymore,”
"and you're okay with that?" jihoon asked.
"i mean, i get the occasional side eye from people, which i, too, return because i hate losing" you joked, "and if it keeps mingyu happy, then..."
"ya!" jihoon flicked you on the forehead, making you yelp, "we've all been friends for ages and i know your secret feelings for mingyu, so i know this is secretly killing you."
"wow," you were trying to act appalled, when jihoon was exactly right. "i do not have secret feelings for mingyu.”
“repeat it five more times, it might come true,” jihoon teased. “i see the way you look at him,” he points out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“i look at him the same way i look at you guys,” you replied as you and jihoon entered the library, spotting vernon slouching at one of the chairs— bored out of his mind.
“you look at us like we’re stupid,” jihoon rolled his eyes.
“exactly.” you beamed at him.
“yn,” vernon looked surprised upon seeing you with jihoon. “i thought you were with mingyu.”
“why would you think that?” you asked him with a raised brow.
“because he wouldn’t stop moaning about how much you kept ignoring his calls earlier,” vernon replied. “and i thought you finally gave in.”
“now, why on earth would you assume that i would give in.” you crossed your arms, slightly annoyed of the idea that is your current legacy— the girl who will always give in for kim mingyu.
“because it’s mingyu,” vernon smirked “you would’ve done anything for him.”
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seungcheol and jeonghan’s quaint café was already alive as soon as you got there. it was said to be an intimate get together but you didn’t expect the amount of people who gathered for seungcheol’s party.
“yn!” vernon waved at you as soon he saw you emit from the doors. “were you alone? did you drive?”
“i came here straight from work,” you explained “i was told that mingyu’s planning to get wasted so i brought my car, in case any of you needs a ride.”
vernon raised his brow. “any of us? or just mingyu?”
“yah!” you flicked his forehead in response, making vernon yelp. “you’ve been spending way too much time with uji.”
“but it’s true,” you heard vernon mumble to himself.
“i was also told that it was an intimate get together” you said as you scanned the place filled with a good mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces.
“yeah, but knowing cheol, he probably wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to celebrate his day with the people he knew,” vernon commented as you two made your way towards the crowd, aiming to find the table where the rest of your friends are hopefully staying.
"happy birthday, cheollie!" you beamed at seungcheol, who just finished checking up on soonyoung and seungkwan. you gave a big wave to soonie and kwannie, making a mental note to properly say hi later.
you handed him the perfectly wrapped present that you may or may not have spent ages on wrapping— you had to mentally put yourself on a pinterest lockdown. “it’s from me and gyu,” you smiled at him.
“thanks, yn,” seungcheol smiles. “you know, you didn’t have to get me anything though.” his smile falters and you did have a sense on where this is going. “you could’ve just greeted me at 12 am in the group chat, didn’t leave me on read.” cheol sulks.
you rolled your eyes at the most incredulous take you heard from your friend. “choi seungcheol, i swear to god— you are the only person i know that bullies people into greeting them happy birthday as soon as the clocks hit midnight.”
“it’s a special day!” seungcheol pouts.
“whatever,” you dismissed him jokingly, earning you a dramatic huff from cheol. “where’s joshua? i haven’t seen him in ages,” you asked, peering around the room.
“why are you looking for another man when your boyfriend’s here?” mingyu suddenly pops out of nowhere, handing you a drink. seungcheol went to make rounds again, checking up on his guests. meanwhile vernon joined soonyoung and seungkwan’s table— which was only a couple of steps away from you two.
“gyu, it’s literally just us here.” you rolled your eyes at him as you gladly accepted the cola. “i don’t think we need to keep acting here,”
“kitten, there’s people here that don’t know that.”
“exactly,” you pointed out. “there’s no reason for us to start acting like a couple if the people here don’t even care if we’re ‘seeing’ each other.”
“but i do,” mingyu mumbled— closer to a whisper. he feared that if he said it to your face— or if you heard it, you’d think differently of him.
but you did hear it. you weren’t sure if it was the mixed chatter that’s messing up your hearing, or if you were just hearing things that you wanted to hear. nonetheless, it had you flustered.
you cleared your throat. “i’ll be back, gyu. i wanna check the food platter,” you said quietly before leaving.
gyu gave a tight nod, which it didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the guys.
upon checking what cheol’s birthday spread, you felt a small tap on your shoulder. “pst!”
you were immediately filled with surprise and joy when you saw joshua standing behind you, smiling, and his arms spread out waiting for a hug.
“shua!” you almost shrieked, tackling him in a hug. “i missed you!”
joshua let out a small laugh. “i missed you too, ynnie.”
you quickly let go of the hug, remembering the text he sent you a few days ago and gave him a playful smack in the arm. “you know, you’re truly sick in the head for texting me that after you asked me for a favour.”
“i was just congratulating you for overcoming your pride and finally accepting the fact that you love mingyu,” joshua teased, nudging you playfully. “must you forget that i follow you on your private twitter?”
“literally shut the fuck up, shua,” you grumbled.
“wow,” joshua sighs, appalled “you kiss mingyu with that mouth?!”
“you annoying brat—“ you were about to smack him before joshua caught your hand, laughing at how flustered you were becoming.
across the room, mingyu was watching you and joshua. how playful you were around joshua. it’s not like he’s jealous or anything— because he’s not. or rather, he has no right to be.
seungkwan picked up on gyu’s slight change of behaviour and where his line of vision was projecting. “you know they’re just really close friends right?” seungkwan comments, trying to ease the conversation.
“hm?” mingyu pretended to not know what seungkwan was pertaining to.
of course, it didn’t work. it’s seungkwan we’re talking about here. he knows when things can get messy really fast and he knows when to stop it. the pointed look that seungkwan gave was also a telling sign that mingyu shouldn’t even bother to lie.
mingyu sighed before taking big gulps of his beer. “she’s allowed to like whomever,” mingyu finally says. “even if it’s my best friend, i’ll still support her.”
“oh, i cannot do this,” vernon muttered under his breath, leaving the table as soon as the words left mingyu’s mouth.
soonyoung was quietly listening to mingyu and seungkwan’s conversation. it was the quietest he has been all night, well, partly because he had already drank a bottle of soju. soonie was afraid that if he said something, it would incriminate you and your feelings for mingyu— and he’d rather not face your wrath.
“well, have you two talked about whatever happens if either of you wanted to date someone else?” seungkwan asked.
the question lingered around mingyu— it never crossed his mind. he had always assumed that you would always be there for him, which was extremely selfish considering you weren’t his to begin with.
mingyu’s silence was enough for seungkwan. he knew where mingyu’s feelings settled. quite, frankly, seungkwan knew where your feelings for mingyu too. but seungkwan knew better than to meddle, especially with unresolved feelings that involved two idiots.
mingyu watched you give joshua a small bag— a present, probably. joshua gave you a grateful smile and a big hug after, making you giggle at something he said. shua seemed happy around you and you were happy around him.
that hurt more than mingyu wanted to admit.
“yn,” joshua whispered as you were busy picking food. “how much are you willing to bet that mingyu’s jealous right now?” he asked upon catching a glimpse of mingyu, who was on his 3rd bottle of beer now and was watching them intently.
you snorted, not bothering to look at joshua. “at whom? is he eyeing on someone i didn’t know about?”
“why,” a twinkle formed in joshua’s eyes “are you jealous?”
“psh,” you didn’t even bother to look at him. joshua will read you right away. “why would i be? i’m not his girlfriend.”
“oh my god,” joshua laughed almost annoyingly that you’d rather take back the limited edition copy of the book that he asked you to get him— a favour for being a good friend, apparently. you knew damn well joshua was going to give that to someone else. “you are! oh, how cute.” he gushed.
“i am not,” you groaned, lying straight through your teeth.
“you should go back,” joshua laughs “as much as i have enjoyed seeing how you two really felt about each other, i don’t want to be the cause of whatever’s stopping you two from it.” with joshua’s ominous words and a small goodbye, he left.
“yn,” seungcheol suddenly crept behind you. “check up on, gyu. he’s drinking too much for someone who hasn’t eaten anything.”
“where did you even—“ your heart was racing, still startled at cheol.
“don’t ask questions and just go,” cheol said, pushing you towards mingyu.
you found mingyu absolutely buzzed beside seungkwan. mingyu rested his head on top of seungkwan’s shoulder, his eyes staring directly at you. seungkwan, on the other hand, was looking at you with pleading eyes— asking as if to save him from this misery.
“yah, kim mingyu,” you grabbed mingyu’s hand and attempted to pull him up from his chair “kwannie’s getting tired. leave him alone.”
“no, he’s not.” mingyu sulked. oh, he’s definitely drunk. “i don’t hear him complaining.”
“because seungkwannie’s too nice to say anything,” you replied, shooting seungkwan an apologetic smile. “get up, mingyu. let’s grab something for you to eat and maybe some water.”
“i don’t want to,” he moaned. mingyu straightened up his position and leaned his head back against the wall. “why are you here anyway? where’s joshua?” he asked, eyes closed.
seungkwan and soonyoung could sense tension between you and mingyu. the last thing they wanted was to witness what was about to unfold. “hyung,” seungkwan grabbed soonyoung’s arm. “let’s go grab something to drink.”
soonie, though nearly drunk, understood the situation and nodded.
as soon as the two left, you stood closer to mingyu, towering against him. “mingyu,” you patted his cheek softly, attempting to make him look at you. “c’mon.”
mingyu groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. it was ridiculous, you had no idea why he was acting like this. well, you had a hunch— joshua’s comment coming into mind— but it was ridiculous right? right?
mingyu eventually met your eyes— a bit red, probably from exhaustion. “where’s shua?” mingyu asked quietly.
you raised an eyebrow at him. “why? is there something you wanted to tell him?” you asked, sitting next to him.
mingyu turned his head against you, wondering why there’s a small smirk forming in your face.
“no,” mingyu huffed. “you looked like you were having tons of fun with him.”
“yeah, i was.” you replied casually, willing to play the game— willing to find out whether joshua’s hunch about mingyu being jealous was actually true. “joshua’s your friend, you know.”
“i know,” mingyu huffed, as if you were rubbing it to him. “so why are you here?” mingyu asked, sounding annoyed. almost.
“why? do you not want me here?”
“i do, but—“ mingyu ran a hand over his face out of frustration. come to think of it, he was slowly coming into his senses. wondering why he was acting like this. “you know what, you’re free to do whatever you want.”
“of course, i am.” you casually agreed.
“then why—“
you cut mingyu off and asked “gyu, why do you think i’m here?”
mingyu bit the inside of his cheeks before answering “to take care of me?”
“partly, yeah,” you laughed. “and it’s because i like spending time with you.”
mingyu’s sulky behaviour instantly dissipates, a large grin suddenly taking over his face. “you like spending time with me?” he asks, almost excitedly.
“there’s a lot of things i like about you, mingyu.” you answered, almost easily— not even knowing where this newfound confidence came from. “why do you think i keep doing things for you?”
“i thought you were just being overtly loyal to being my best friend,” he answered with a pout.
“gyu, i don’t think i could ever agree to do the things you asked me to if it were someone else.”
“you mean if joshua asked you to be his pretend girlfriend, you’d say no?” mingyu asked with a quirk brow.
“where is this jealousy from joshua coming from?!” you practically yelled, smacking his arm. “that’s your best friend, you brat.”
“yeah? so?” mingyu crossed his arms “he’s a nice guy— a gentleman, sweet. i wouldn’t be surprised if you liked him.”
“oh my god,” you groaned “kim mingyu, you are dense as fuck.”
“yah, why are you calling me stupid?” mingyu turns his body to fully face you.
“because i’ve been trying to tell you that i like you, stupid.” you said, irritated.
“you like me?” mingyu’s face lights up.
“yes, you weirdo.”
“if you like me then why are you calling me ‘weirdo’?!” mingyu pouts.
“because you’re weird! never had i seen someone react like this, even after they were told that someone likes them.”
“but you like meee,” mingyu practically sings. “i like you too, ynnie.” he said snuggling closer to you, resting his head on top of yours.
“oh, i know” you replied, unbothered by the look that mingyu gave you. “i knew the moment that shua hugged me and gave me his attention, i knew you were jealous.”
“you knew that i was jealous and you still didn’t do anything about it?”
“please,” you snorted “i was trying to prove the theory. i am, first and foremost, a research girly after all.”
“and what theory is that?” mingyu asked,
“that i was certain about my feelings about you,” you replied. “and that i just had to make sure you were too.”
“you did all that when i could’ve just kissed you?”mingyu baffles “you had me seeing red.”
“uh, not with beer-breath you’re not.” you said, crossing your arms. mingyu suddenly stands up, prompting you to ask “where are you going?”
“to ask cheol if he has any spare toiletries in his office,” mingyu answers in a hurry, making you laugh.
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hiya friends! sorry if this took a while! april has not been kind to a fourth-yr uni student, but at least, it's all over now! i can write (non-uni related works) as much as i want! 🤩
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lilacargent · 10 months
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Soooo first post ever and it is because i have gone down the #humansarespaceorcs rabbit hole, and my train of thought was:
Yes humans are weird and do strange things to survive. But more specifically we do weird things to our surroundings to survive, many different things.
What if, it has been a decade or two since the humans joined what ever coalition or council of aliens that work together and as a species they are mostly well known for their ability to grow crops under the worst circumstances (soil, climate anything) ofcourse the other deathworld apex predator human traits make the rounds but over time they seem to assume we cannot surprise them anymore.
Everyone knows that if a planet is ‘owned’ by a certain species they have to pay tax to the coalition, so planets that aren’t particularly useful are undesirable.
This particular planet p-jx-5£2 has been moved around endlessly, given with trade deals to get rid of it. P-jx-5£2 is 97% water, with a very high salt level so inhabitable for all developed aliens. Even though the atmosphere is a nice oxygen base and the gravitational pull allright most for the coalition members the fast spinning moon and the planets quick pace around its sun make the water move and tides switch every 2.5 hours keeping no land dry outside of low tide.
~~~~~~~~
The tall Avian alian il’trexz was elated this day was going to be great, a trade deal with the hardy humans and getting rid of a useless money drain, they didn’t have a clue what they were signing up for!
Turning towards the much smaller bipedal species standing in front of the window looking down on the blue planet that just came into their possession the strange creature mumbled something to them selves, frowning Il’trezx asks ‘im sorry what did you say, you spoke but the translator didn’t pick it up?’ The human (Steve) turned to him away from the window ‘my apologies, i was talking to myself, i said that we had to send the dutch.’ Il’trezx looked befuddled ‘the dutch? Is that some kind of animal?’
Steve threw his head back and made a series of sounds that ruffled the Avians feathers and had he not known it was a laugh it would have made him run for the hills ‘HA I’m going to tell Andreas you said that, no the Dutch is what call people from a country on earth that specialise in these kinds of climates, they’ve been begging for a challenge since they stopped the flooding on the umavi home world.’ With feathers puffed up Il’trezx wonders ‘and they are going to do what? This is an impossible planet’ immediately clasping his beak he looks a the human to see if he seemed angry at being swindled, but to his surprise Steve just looks at him ‘hm so you believe we can’t use this planet. Allright let’s make a bet.’ Interested Il’trezx leans in closer ‘what kind of bet?’ A predatory grin spreads on the bipedal aliens face ‘if we make less of this planet than the amount of tax we have to pay over it we will cover all trade costs for this quarter, insurance, travel all of it.’ Eagerly Il’trezx starts nodding ‘but’ Steve keeps going ‘if we do make more of this planet you will do the same.’
The bet is put onto paper and the higher ups of both parties also agree. In 5 years the Avians would be back and they would balance the costs to the benefits. When they departed Il’trezx says too Steve ‘you must have a lot of faith in these “dutch” ‘ the man grins teeth bared ‘ofcourse, after all they conquered water before’
The five years pass and stories have been going around of a new energy supplier from the humans, producing enough energy to run 78% of their ships and several facilities. Nobody seems to know where it is coming from but no new pollution is measured in any of these facilities. None of this bothers the Avians, after all humans come up with new things all the time.
The five years are up and Il’trezx is invited to the planet with a group of advisors and other officials, the planet which apparently they have renamed to ‘posy’ which is supposed to be short for some kind of sea god from their olden days.
On arrival the amount of coming and going baffles them massive groups of ships docking or docked and all somehow attached to wires that run into machines.
The planets change alone was awe inspiring, two cities on opposite sides of the planet and what seems like millions of weird blades attached to high poles every where. Strange wheels and long walls between towers rising from the rapidly moving waters.
This… this was their new energy source. They somehow made a battery of this uninhabitable planet and then built a home.
On the meeting place Steve is waiting with a man slightly taller than him. Spreading his arms the smaller human says ‘welcome to Poseidon, this is Andreas our main mechanic here. He has been here with planning since orbit 1.’
After the introductions were done Andreas led the group through what they called the Northern city and showed on his device the steps it took to get a foothold and how they proceeded from there, mentioning that many of these steps his home country had used thousands of year ago to gain land from sea, and energy from the movement of water and air. They specialised in this form of terra forming and it showed.
The Avians were astounded, not having realised that there was more than one kind of way the Humans had battled their environment even beating back the waters of their world.
Without a doubt the humans had won the bet and had another legend added to their name. More and more humans showed that with the right motivation they could settle right about anywhere.
********
So yea… my stupid little idea. Hopefully someone will enjoy it. I just liked the idea of specific cultures and stuff. specialising in certain things.
Edit: im amazed people seem to like it! If people have ideas or other cultures they think would baffle aliens, im certainly willing to try and write something
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cheriladycl01 · 9 months
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Ghost - Oscar Piastri x UnknownDriver! Reader Part 3
Plot: Reader is the first female F1 driver of the century, however no-one knows that as you are a ghost on the grid. You started in 2022, coming in P12 in the championship. You get moved to Red Bull Racing in 2023 with the off year for Sergio Perez.
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Standing up on the podium, not being able to do anything as you watched Oscar run off was torture. You had to stay there while your national anthem played that should have been amazing considering it was you, Lewis and Lando all up there together.
And of course, there were no breaks for you afterwards. Everyone wanted you, from SkySports, to F1, to Netflix. Everyone was throwing questions at you and asking how different your achievements feel now knowing that your the first woman to have completed many of them.
You were fine answering them, because like they said. All of your previous achievements were now bigger than they were as Ghost. People could tell that you weren't fully with them, you were a little spacey and sometimes struggled with hearing and answering the questions.
Most of them put it down to the post race fuzz of the win and revealing who you were, but upon getting to the Sky Sports Team who consisted of Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg, Natalie Pinkham and Danica Patrick questions turned sour.
"So Y/N aside from racing we caught light of Oscar Piastri's quick depart after the reveal, any insight on this?" Danica asks, making you look down.
"I don't think these questions are necessary" Jenson says just as the Red Bull PR manager was about to ask for racing related questions only.
"Yes please stick to racing questions only" the Red Bull PR backs up, nodding before taking a step back. You look back up, straight to Nico who had a soft look on his face.
"I'm just interested, you raced for Alpine last year when he was a reserve driver... for Alpine and you've been promoted to Red Bull this year while Piastri's made the move to Mclaren. Can't help but wonder if its underlying sexism that's made him this mad, you all cant deny he was blunt and rude in his interview with us earlier" Danica pushes and you head snaps up. You feel a hand on your shoulder as if to stop you from what your about to say but you go ahead anyway.
"I've hurt a dear friend. So how dare you stand there and try to victimize me, when he is the one that I've hurt. He knew me as Ghost's assistant and media manager... we were close and I've not been truthful to him for obvious reasons. So don't stand there and try to make him out to be a misogynistic twat when he isn't. I don't know what you experienced in NASCAR Danica but in F1 all I've experienced today is love and support. Just because your sport sucks doesn't mean mine does" you snap, and recoil shocked that you'd just said all of that. She looks at you also in shock, Jenson and Nico were trying to stop their laughter.
"Well, some strong opinions there from Y/N Y/L/N" Jenson says as he watches you turn away and walk off. You were done with interviews for the day. You just wanted to find Oscar and talk to him now.
"Lando! Lando" you shout as you see the curly haired boy ahead of you walking into the Mclaren motorhome.
"Hey, Y/N or should i say Ghost" he smiles before pulling you into a hug.
"I was not expecting that bombshell today, and I will admit I'm sorry for assuming you were some ugly guy... your very obviously not" he laughs.
"Where's Oscar" you ask, you didn't want to seem rude but of course he was your priority right now.
"Y/N, I don't think its a good idea to see him right now. I think maybe just wait for him to come to you. He's upset and" he starts but you look him dead in the eye.
"He upset me too, he just ran off... at my first race win" you say as selfish as it was... but he also ruined that experience for you.
"I know, but you did like lie to him for just under 2 years" Lando says softly not wanting to rattle your already unstable cage of self hatred.
"And what was i supposed to do Lando, tell him a secret that Red Bull had me sign an NDA over and break my contract and risk loosing my seat?" you ask, hoping he would start to understand.
"Look Y/N you really should go..." Lando pushes looking around the area you were currently in. He put a hand on your lower back as to guide you back out, but you planted yourself still.
"No, I'm not leaving till i talk to him" you grunt.
"Y/N I'm telling you this as your friend and your co-worker. You need to go" he says, you'd actually never seen his eyes this serious before and it had your head cocking to the side in confusion.
As your about to ask him why the hell he's being so twitchy, two people stumble out of the next room a little disheveled and both laughing. You eyes lock on them.
"O-Oscar?" you ask in shock, the girl looks up at him confused and his face turns red but also a sour expression comes onto his face.
Before any of them can say anything your turning away from them, everything feels slow motion, all the voices around you blur and your heartbeat comes erratic.
You couldn't understand why it hurt so much, the thought of him not even for a moment being happy for you up on a podium that he come here to be with some other girl ... or was it because in the time you'd spent with him you'd fallen for the racer.
You round the corner, stumbling behind the Mclaren motorhome so that you could just breath. You crouch down, your head leaning back against the side.
"Fucks sake" you say to yourself, once you'd calmed yourself from the initial shock you fully sat down on the metal edging outside the Mclaren motorhome.
"Y/N?" you hear a voice ask, your head peaks up and you spot Alex and Logan.
"Oh, hey guys. Great Race today!" you smile.
"Why are you just sat outside the Mclaren motorhome?" Logan asks raising an eyebrow at you.
"Oh, erm no reason. I just got lost on my way back to Red Bull" you smile standing up and walking to the long strip and turning left.
"Your still clearly lost, Red Bull's that way" Alex says pointing to the right hand side, that you weren't facing.
"Right, yeah i knew that" you smile, turning round and scuttering off the other way.
To say that the UK was the start of something spectacular was an understatement. You didn't go out and celebrate that night, you stayed in with your family.
The next race was Hungary where you proceeded to take the win away from Max in the last 3 laps, being on the fresher tires. They asked you to let Max take the win but you begged for them to let you fight it out. You shared the podium with Max and Lando, in Spa you came second, sharing the podium with Max and Charles and in The Netherlands you came 4th.
Throughout all of this Oscar hadn't reached out to you. You'd kept in contact with Lando, asking how he was and what had been going on. However Monza changed things.
An article came out about an interview Oscar had done about you and how you hadn't spoken to him since. He hadn't spoken very nicely about you when all you'd done was stick up for him. You guys got into a massive argument outside the garages that of course people caught on camera.
You had a really bad qualifying, the car just didn't have pace and your mind wasn't in the right place. So you were starting P14 on the grid, after a cry to Christian that you were so overwhelmed and him assuring you that it was today that really mattered.
You had turned off everything when you got in the car on the Sunday. No thoughts in your head just the racing. On the start you managed to get yourself to P12 overtaking Liam and Nico right of the bat.
"Excellent start Y/N lets keep pushing"
Martin Bundle - I have to say that Y/N is incredible with these races where she starts down in the back of the grid, and she gets those amazing starts where she slips in the middle of the two drivers ahead and is able to confidently get herself up too places
"Okay, and Alonso are ahead, you have DRS" your engineer tells you, and you are able to overtake Yuki who doesn't go as aggressively into the chicane as you do. You have a little spin but recover enough to pull up aside Alonso on the straight, going for the overtake.
"Amazing Y/N, that's P10 right now. Keep pushing"
Eventually you were left fighting Carlos, Max clipped a tire and was now down in 4th fighting with Charles.
"Y/N this has been a fantastic race, from P14 up to P2, Carlos is 1.8 second ahead. Lets get him and bring home a double podium. Max is fighting for P3 right now. 5 laps to go" he advises.
"Tell him to speed up, I'll give him DRS we can overtake Sainz together so its a 1.2" you advise looking seeing the Ferrari behind you. You slow down on the hairpin, breaking early, which Charles didn't expect where he was concentrating on defending from Max. You speed up, watching as he spins out a little leaving room for Max on the inside.
"Okay, Sainz has sped up there's now a 2.6 second gap"
"Copy that" you say, Max was using your slip stream, but didn't go for the overtake, you easily defended from Charles together while gaining on the other Ferrari.
"Okay last two laps, Sainz, 0.3 second gap"
"Yeah i can fucking tell I'm riding his rear end" you say, the minute you get onto the straight you and Max both go either side of Sainz, sandwiching him in as your about to go into turn 11. He breaks early falling back leaving you to take the optimal racing line and get ahead of Max.
"Is Max fighting this last lap?" you ask.
"He's been told is free to fight. Mode push and bring us another win" your race engineer advises, you breeze through the final lap, it was a close call but you came first.
"Y/N Y/L/N winner of the 2023 Italian Grand Prix" your race engineer says a big grin coming onto your face as you flip up the visor holding your fist up as you see all the Red Bull crew cheering for you on the fencing.
"Where did Oscar place?" you ask, you hadnt thought about him up until now. Even as you passed the orange 81 car, it was just another car then.
"Not a good race for Piastri, P12 behind Lawson"
"Okay. Thank you for the great drive today. Thank you Christian" you say before preparing yourself for the podium.
Would Oscar be there?
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle
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jinisnuggets · 5 months
Text
ꜱᴛʀᴀʏ ᴋɪᴅꜱ (ᴏᴛ3) ꜰɪɴᴅꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜱ/ᴏ ɪꜱ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ
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ᴾᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ: ˡᵉᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ, ʰᵃⁿ, ˢᵉᵘⁿᵍᵐⁱⁿ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ
ᴳᵉⁿʳᵉ: ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ, ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗʸ, ᴴᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒⁿˢ, ˢᵐᵃᵘ
ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳⁱᵉˢ, ˢʷᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ, ʰᵃʳᵐ,
ˢʸⁿᵒᵖˢⁱˢ: ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ˢᵉʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ⁱᵗ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ᶠᵃˢᵗ
ᴬ/ⁿ: ᵗʰⁱˢ ʷᵃˢ ʳᵉqᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵᵗ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ᵈʳᵃᶠᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ᴵ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʳⁱᵍⁱⁿᵃˡ ᵃˢᵏᵉʳ ᴵ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ 😭 , ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵒˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʳⁿ.
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𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨
When he got a call from the local hospital, he was quick to assume they had the wrong number, however he still picked up in order to inform them of the mistake, and when he heard a voice on the other end start to speak, he waited for them to finish the contact information before talking.
“Hello, I wanted to inform you that you possibly have the wrong number, I don't have any health issues and neither do any of my close relatives, so I believe this is a mistake, but thank you for your hard work, it is very appreciated.”
The other end stayed silent for a moment before verifying, “This is Lee Minho, is that correct?” Minho stayed quiet for a moment before speaking, “Yes, that's me- what happened?”
After the clarification, the doctor introduced themselves and explained the situation that had him very much on edge, and hearing what actually happened didn't make it any better.
“Wait- Y/n got into a car accident..?”
“Unfortunately, but luckily it wasn't a very serious crash so they came out with few injuries, although they aren't minor, they aren't major either so they should recover in a couple of weeks to possibly months.”
By that point, Minho had been pacing around the same spot for a decent amount of time, sweat running down his forehead as he bit his thumb nail, reacting quickly and reaching out for his car keys and wallet.
“I'm on my way, please keep them safe until I get there.”
The person on the other end nodded, but for confirmation muttered a small ‘of course’ in order to assure him that you were in good hands.
He didn't have time to ask about the injuries you had, the only thing he wanted to do by that point was see you and that was really it, he didn't think to ask nor did he really care to ask at the moment of it, the question hadn't come to his head until he started driving and had already hung up, in which he found himself banging his head against the steering wheel in complete disappointment to himself, quickly speeding up the pace in order to get to his loved one faster.
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𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠
Jisung had been eating lunch in his car, he was lazy so he just stopped by some fast food restaurant and ordered a meal to go, so that's how he ended up in his car in a random parking lot, looking at all the passing cars as he ate the burrito he had ordered.
He had seen a couple of ambulances drive by but he hadn't thought much of them, it was normal to see an ambulance drive off during regular times of day so there wasn't anything suspicious about it.
He stayed in his car for a while and finished up his burrito, jamming to the music that played from his playlist. Right as he was picking up his trash he noticed his phone ringing, it was off as he wasn't the type to get calls often, so he looked at the contact and recognized the number as the local hospital's, it also had it on the contact name, he automatically assumed that maybe his parents needed to under-go some type of surgery and picked up.
“Hello, are we talking to Han Jisung at the moment?” The voice on the other line said, Jisung was scared so the only thing that came out of his mouth was a simple ‘mhm.’
“Perfect, I'm a doctor at the local Seoul Department Hospital, I have a few things to tell you about L/n Y/n.”
“Y/n!? Why are they at the hospital!?” He couldn't help but raise his voice a little, not because he was mad but because he was terrified. What was his beloved doing in a place like the hospital? From what he last knew you didn't have any mental conditions, which meant one of two things, you got injured or you just went for a check up and found some sort if emergency cause making you need surgery, which made him immediately reject the other option.
“Yes, L/n has twisted their ankle in what we can only assume was a fall, we don't have the full story yet as they've been undergoing treatment for the damaged bone.”
“That happened!?” Jisung was in disbelief, turning on his car and driving off in the way of the hospital.
“I'm on my way, please take care of Y/n for me.”
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𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧
He was cooking whenever he noticed a number calling him, being the man he is, he obviously declined the call.
He hadn't seen the number and assumed it was a spam caller, so he chose to ignore it and decline the call. It wasn't until the number called a second time that he realized this wasn't a spam caller, so he picked up and got off to hang up if anything felt off or suspicious.
“Hello, are we speaking with Kim Seungmin?” A female voice asked from the other end, Seungmin felt uneasy and took a look at the contact information, seeing that it had the name of “Local Hospital”
Seungmin’s initial and continued thought was, of course, ‘scammer’ but he let the call proceed. “Yes, this is Kim Seungmin.” he responded.
“Okay, if it's okay for me to take a few minutes of your time, I would like to talk to you about some comments regarding L/n Y/n.”
Now Seungmin's mind went to ‘blackmailer’ and he was about to hang up the call when the same female voice continued.
“So, L/n has sprained their ankle while playing a sport, and it's not serious but it will take quite a bit to recover, so we wanted to know your relationship with the patient because they've got you listed as an emergency contact.”
Seungmin stayed silent, not because he was suspicious of any activity, but because he was genuinely concerned and trying to come up with the best thing to do in this scenario.
“I'm her boyfriend, could I have a few more details on their injuries?” Seungmin questioned, leaning over to pick up his shoes and slide them on, packing a bit of the pasta that he had been preparing and picking up his car keys.
“As mentioned, they sprained their ankle while they were playing some sort of sport, the theory is that they had landed badly on their leg and the pressure caused a bone malfunction causing the result of a sprain.”
“Okay, thank you very much, I'll be on my way.”
Seungmin thanked the nurse and despite his quiet and calm demineer, he was literally screaming and panicking on the inside.
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teecupangel · 6 months
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Following up to the colossal squid Desmond ask: how the FUCK did Mr. Cannot-fuckin-swim-Altaïr-Ibn-La’Ahad tame a colossal squid?!
He didn’t XD
(Here’s the colossal squid Desmond idea for those curious)
.
Everyone knew that Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad didn’t like traveling by ship.
He’d rather spend days on horseback if it was an option.
If it wasn’t, he would request to Al Mualim that another Assassin be sent instead.
Al Mualim had always agreed as it was the only time he would ask for anything.
So the Brotherhood assumed that he could not swim.
Or that he was deadly afraid of the deep sea.
Perhaps even both.
Because of his status as Al Mualim’s favorite, no one would dare insult him about it.
Except Abbas.
But even against Abbas’ poisoned words, he remained silent.
Ignoring Abbas completely.
Abbas could never get a rise out of him when it concerned his… insistent to remain as far away from the sea as possible.
But there came a time when he had been forced to board a ship.
They had been in the port in Acre, looking for a specific document that was bound to leave the port in an hour.
When they got there, the ship was already about to depart. Someone had tipped them off.
Altaïr and his team had jumped onto the ship before it could leave.
The plan had been to get the document and commandeer the skiff back to the port.
That’s when things became complicated.
They wasted too much looking for a ‘document’.
They learned much too late that the document they were sent to take was actually a person who had memorized everything.
To be more exact…
Three people had memorized the necessary information.
Al Mualim’s orders had been clear.
This ‘document’ must not be retrieved and must never fall into the hands of those in foreign lands.
And one of those people was the captain of the ship.
He had ordered his men to stay alert and look for them.
In such an enclosed space that they have not been to nor have any prior information about, the Assassins were in a disadvantage.
And it all came to head once the ship reached the deep waters.
The waters underneath the ship grew darker.
And Altaïr let out a resigned sigh.
The Assassins heard the crews scream in terror and they followed Altaïr to the deck.
… where long gigantic tentacles rose from the depths, surrounding the ship. One of the tentacles curled around the ship, forcing it to stop.
Another tentacle swept the deck and Altaïr charged in the chaos, making his team shout at him in terror. He jumped the captain, slamming his head to the floor as he ordered, “I need this one alive!”
The tentacle stopped mid sweep before it could hit Altaïr. The tentacle curled around Altaïr and poked his forehead, forcing his hood to drop.
Altaïr glared at the tentacle as he said, “Take the rest. Not this one.”
The tentacle tapped Altaïr on the top of the head once before sweeping the rest of crew members out of the deck.
While Altaïr dragged the captain towards his team. He pushed the captain to one of them as he ordered, “Bind his limbs and mouth.”
“Altaïr… that-”
Altaïr simply sighed and walked back to the deck, “It’s fine. He will take us far enough that we can use the skiff.”
“But Altaïr! That’s-”
“That’s Desmond.” Altaïr smacked the tentacle about to poke his cheek, “He always find me when I’m in the sea.”
Later on, the Brotherhood learned that Altaïr had first met Desmond during the first time he had to travel via a ship. Desmond had stopped the ship to greet him and the crew had panicked and thought he summoned Desmond.
He was pushed off the ship and Desmond destroyed it for ‘hurting’ Altaïr (he wasn’t hurt). After that, Altaïr had to spend a few days being ‘sailed’ by Desmond in a piece of debris from the ship.
Every time he was in the sea, Desmond would come say ‘hi’ and that always led to some kind of misadventure that Altaïr just didn’t have the time or energy for.
And that was why…
Altaïr didn’t like traveling by sea.
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apomaro-mellow · 4 months
Text
Family Planning 3
Part 2
Eddie was being led down the hallway by the scruff of his jacket like an unruly pup by Coach Williams while Steve was being led by the shoulder like he was somehow more delicate. They were sat down in a familiar scene in the principal’s office while their parents were being called and Woolsley cleaned up as best as he could.
Still, when he got to the office and took his seat, he had red staining his suit. Both boys gave valiant efforts, trying to hide their snickering behind wobbling smiles.
“Laugh all you want, boys. We’ll see how funny it is when your parents arrive.”
“What exactly are we being charged with?”, Eddie asked, crossing his legs.
“Let’s start with classroom disruptions. And let’s continue with disorderly conduct. And how about we include theft from the theatre department. Oh and let’s not forget inciting a riot.”
“We didn’t incite a riot!”, Steve argued. He was still wearing the fake stomach and thanks to Gareth’s prowess, only had a bit of sauce on his jeans.
“Watch your volume”, Woolsley pointed a warning finger at him. 
“Their families are here, sir”, the secretary announced.
They were waved in and now it was both Mr. and Mrs. Harrington and Eddie’s uncle Wayne Munson. Steve’s parents gawked at the sight of him and Wayne only shook his head.
“What’ve you gotten up to this time?”
“Just a being a showman”, Eddie shrugged.
“Steven Arthur Harrington! What are you wearing?”, his mother gasped.
Steve was at a loss of words. It had all seemed like a good idea in the beginning. Actually, it still did. He didn’t know why they were acting like he and Eddie really pulled a baby from his womb. It was just a joke.
“It was just a joke.”
“This”, Richard pointed to Steve’s stomach. “Doesn’t look like a joke. It looks like some upstart alpha has forgotten himself and is making your forget yourself.” Then he pointed to Eddie. “You better stop sniffing around my son-”
“And you better stop pointin’ your finger at my boy”, Wayne said.
“He needs to quit while he’s ahead before this becomes a real problem.”
Two alphas filling the room with tension and not even bothering to hide their scent about it made Steve’s shoulders hunch up a bit. How did a stupid joke turn into all of this? Then his mother spoke up.
“Our son has never done anything like this, which leads me to believe that your nephew-”
“Why does everyone assume it was all Eddie? That I had nothing to do with it?”, Steve accused, standing up. “I’m the one that put this thing on and I’m the one that got up on the desk and shot the sauce.”
“And that’s because of his bad influence”, Richard nodded his head at Eddie.
Wayne put his hands on his hips. “That’s funny because I see two young men here in the hot seat, not just one.”
“Alright, gentlemen”, the principal finally spoke up before looking to Eddie and Steve. “Boys, go and wait outside. As a matter of fact, you can take that back to the prop storage”, he jabbed a finger at Steve’s belly.
Thoroughly dismissed, they did just that, walking out together. Feeling a little humiliated, Steve took the fake stomach off. He could only imagine what they were discussing behind the door. His dad would probably fight tooth and nail, if not for Steve’s sake for his reputation at least. Unfortunately, it had to be said that he didn’t have such high hopes for Eddie.
“Well, that reception could’ve gone better”, Eddie said.
“Understatement of the century”, Steve grumbled.
They got to the theatre department and Steve put the stomach into a box after checking that it was all good. Eddie could smell the bitter undertone in his scent, even in the musty storage room.
“You know, worst case scenario, we need to do a little summer school to make this up.”
“Some of us like having a free summer, Munson.”
“Oh, Munson now is it? What happened to my sweet little mama-to-be?”
Not in the mood for jokes now, Steve just rolled his eyes and turned to walk out. Eddie didn’t need to get a whiff to know that his joke had landed flat. He followed Steve out, tripping over something feathery in his haste to catch up to the omega. He didn’t know what Steve was more turned off by, having to continue the project together, or having to call it quits here and do some other make up assignment.
“Hey, hey, I know I’m not like your idea of a perfect alpha or anything.”
Steve stopped in his tracks and turned to lean back against a locker, crossing his arms. “Come on, man. Give yourself a break. You’re not that bad.”
Eddie put a hand to his chest. “My word! That almost sounded like a compliment!”
“Keep it up and I’ll take it back”, Steve said, grinning a little now.
Feeling welcomed, Eddie came to stand next to him, their shoulders almost touching. Steve smelled a little sweeter now and his body wasn’t as tense.
“You really are hot and cold. Can’t you be a little warmer to your baby daddy?”, Eddie batted his lashes.
Steve leaned over and into his space. “A good alpha would put in some real effort to warm me up.”
Eddie hesitated for only a moment before he leaned in a little as well. Steve smoothed his cheek over Eddie’s and breathed in deep. No one had scented Eddie besides his uncle and he stood stock still as Steve did it.
“You smell really good, you know. I don’t think I’ve ever told you.” To be honest, Steve had never taken a moment to savor in Eddie’s scent. But now that he was taking his time to do so…
“Steven Arthur Harrington!”
Eddie jumped back like it was his own name being shouted down the hallways. So hard that the sound of the locker slamming echoed in the mostly empty hallway. Steve’s parents collected him and carted him out so quickly that Eddie got whiplash. Wayne came up to him much more calmly and patted his shoulder. 
“Do I gotta to the full name treatment for you?”
“If you say my middle name out loud I’ll run away from home”, Eddie threatened.
“Son at your age, it’s just called ‘moving out’.”
Both walked out, shoulders shaking with chuckles and that was when Wayne told him what was what.
“We managed to get you both a deal. You can do the project as intended, new sack of flour and all. Just no more funny business.”
“That’s it?”, Eddie asked as he was walked to his van.
“No funny business at all. No causing trouble for yourself or that other boy. Think you can keep your hands clean for an entire year?”
The Harringtons had already left, probably sped out of the parking lot to keep from running into the Munsons again. But even so, it was easy to remember Steve’s fleeting smile and the scent that wafted off of him when he was feeling content or even happy. 
“I think I can do that”, Eddie said, resolute.
Part 4
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thecapricunt1616 · 5 months
Text
The Bear & His Honey - Chapter 18
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♡ Chapter Inspo: The Tortured Poets Department ; TS - 'I scratch your head, you fall asleep like a tattooed golden retriever. But you awaken with dread, pounding nails in your head, but i've read this one where you come undone - I chose this cyclone with you, and who's gonna hold you like me?'
♡ Summary: Winnie meets Donna for the first time, Carmy ends up needing an emergency therapy session.
♡ W/C: 8,071
♡ Posted Date: 04/22/24
♡ A/N: Eep here we are! 18 chapters and the plot is finally starting to thicken up! I'm enjoying where this story is going very much. I hope you all are too! When I heard the golden retriever line I was like - wait....Carmy and Winnie hahahah!!! I'm loving this new album V much - tried not to add too much Taylor-talk in here but it's CANON that Winnies a fan so it would be OOC for her to not be excited heheheh ♡ Warnings for BTC: Swearing, Physical Violence, Alcoholism, Mentions of Police, Family domestic abuse, attempt to enable said behaviors, Sad Carmy
➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡
➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡
➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡
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𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱. 🍯
Her shrill voice bounced off the walls, and quite frankly made my head hurt. I took a deep breath, clearing my throat and preparing for what was to come. I’d been apart of many screaming matches in my life since Id realized I could fight my mother back - so at minimum 15 years worth of defending myself against a raging narcissist.
“You don’t have to talk to her, my purse is just in there- I need it it has our house keys” I said so just we could hear. 
“Where is he! CARMEN ANTHONY. YOU WILL COME SPEAK TO ME I AM YOUR MOTHER!” she shouted. It was clear she was drunk by the way she was speaking and annunciating her words. 
“Baby go- go outside, I’m gonna deal with her” he said softly, his hands were shaking. 
“I’m not leaving you alone, bear. I promise, I’m not gonna add fuel” I said and took his hand, holding it in mine and squeezing gently. “I love you - and that means we do things together even when they’re hard” I whispered and he nodded, swallowing thickly. 
“Donna! Donna sweetheart we should step outside huh? Let’s go, let’s go outside, we'll have a cigarette. The babies are here, you don’t want them to hear this? No?” Jimmy told her, ushering her down the hall towards where we were in the dining room that contained the front door. 
When she saw him it was like everything stopped, I felt like I was trapped in a lions den, or a fucking bear cave more like it. “Who is this?” She said, just above a whisper and she looks at me, then our enclasped hands, then Carmen again. “Who the fuck is this, Carmen?” She questioned 
“Mom. Mom. Listen-“ I interrupt him because I’d never heard his voice sound so small and scared 
“Hi! I’m Winnie?” I said casually. “And- I assume you’re Donna? Right?” I gently rubbed the back of his hand with the pad of my thumb, it felt like I was trying to tame a mountain lion with a smile. 
“And what kind of fucking name is Winnie. What the hell is this- a goddamn cartoon? And why are you in my daughters house?” She asked and I maintained my cool, seeing as the whole family pretty much had silently crowded in the hall to watch this go down. 
“Oh-“ I cleared my throat, trying to maintain my cool and I held our hands up that were laced together “I’m well acquainted with your son.” I drop them back to our sides “he’s lovely. May I just say you did a wonderful job raising him.” I said and he squeezed my hand tightly 
“And I’m here to talk to said son alone. So you can take your cute little carrot top self back wherever you came from and fuck right off missy “ she snapped and I raised my brows, but before I could open my mouth Jimmy stepped in 
“Heyyy! Hey hey! Donna- Donna the girl hasn’t done anything wrong come on-“
“Oh shut up jimmy.” She seethed 
“MOM!” Carmen snapped, “I’m not fuckin’ doing this” he rose his voice so she could tell he was serious “I’m not. That was it- we’re done we’re leaving good fuckin job- I’m fucking leaving. Syd can you bring Winnie’s fuckin purse please?” He called to her and I saw her shoving through everyone gathered in the hallway to get back into the living room.
“Oh so you’re gonna choose this stupid girl over your own mother? What are you too good for your mother now? Is she- is she some hot shot chef? Oh- no let me guess- she’s a nurse since you messed things up with the Doctor, Claire?” She said and my mouth dropped 
“Actually-“ I scoff “I work at a library- your son is the ‘hot shot’ chef. The only one in your family might I add? Donna, you are speaking to everyone horribly right now. Why do you think he wouldn’t want to talk to you when you’re acting like-“ I see her jerk her arm and I am suddenly soaking wet, and my eyes are stinging worse than I’d ever felt in my life. I shrieked, wiping my face furiously and coughing, my lungs burning as the alcoholic drink that had been thrown in my face choked me from when I’d gasped in surprise and inhaled a gulp of it. 
“Oh- Donna!” Jimmy said “no- no now you gotta go dear, what’s wrong with you?” 
“Someone had to shut her up to stop that annoying little speech she was putting me to sleep” she laughed drunkenly 
“Mom what- WHAT THE FUCK?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?! ARE YOU? WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING OBSESSION RUINING EVERYTHING?! THIS IS WHY - THIS- THIS IS WHY I DIDN'T WANT TO SEE YOU- I CAN'T STAND YOU! I CANT FUCKING STAND YOU MOM” Carmy roars. 
“Oh my god you crazy bitch” Sadie said angrily. I couldn’t even see what was going on, everything was sticky and wet and it was driving me insane. I was still stuck in a coughing fit as I rubbed my eyes but the stinging was getting worse. The amount of overwhelmed, embarrassment, fear, anger I felt threw me headfirst into a panic attack. 
“What did she throw? Oh my god my contacts Sadie - I- I need to take out my contacts” I said gasping and coughing as I felt a hand on my arm guiding me to the kitchen 
“I know, I know, shhhh” she coaxed, bringing me over to the sink. “I’m gonna get them out but you have to do me a favor and stay still” she ordered, but I could barely fucking understand her with the pain. 
I began sobbing uncontrollably and she turned the sink on “I’m so sorry” I said and we heard crashing coming from the front room 
“What? What did she do?! MOM!!!” I heard Natalie shout “MOM THESE ARE BRAND FUCKING NEW CARPETS!! GET HER OUT!!!” She shrieked.
“YOUR FUCKING CARPETS? SHE JUST BLINDED MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND AND YOU GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE CARPETS, NAT?! THIS IS ON YOU, YOU’RE THE FUCKING REASON SHES HERE.” Carmy was in a rage. I’d never heard him so angry before.
“Everything e-everything I’m sticking-  i’m sticking oh my god Sadie. Everything stings, Sadie. Help me” I cried, “what did I even say why did she do that?” I sobbed, each time I tried to open my eyes I was faced with a searing pain. All of the screaming, the fear of his mother finding me and doing further damage for god knows why, the worry for Carmy and what was happening to him - it was all too much.
“CALL THE FUCKIN’ COPS THIS SHIT IS GETTIN’ TOO FUCKIN OUT OF HAND.” Richie shouted 
“I am alreadyyy on it- yup okay- let me just- I can’t hear them! I’m gonna go out there“ I heard Syd say awkwardly 
“Open” Sadie said and pried my left eye open, quickly scooping out the contact before doing the same with the right causing me to wince. She had to essentially trap me against the counter and wall so I wouldn't out of instinct slap and kick her for trying to dig in my fucking eyes with her fingers.
“Ok rinse” she said once she managed to get both of the contacts out. I dove for the sink, scrubbing my face over with water, rinsing out my eyes quickly and doing my best to hold them open under the running water despite the burning and uncomfortable stinging.
“G-get Carmen please, please” I said through shaky sobs. I hadn’t even been able to listen to what was going on since Sadie had scooped out my contacts, it was as if she and I were the only people in the house due to all the adrenaline from the pain coursing through my body allowing me to focus on the task at hand the fucking blinding pain.
“Yup ok. Okay I’ll find him” she said and I heard a sharp slap come from the other room
“MOM - MOM!! DID YOU REALLY JUST HIT HIM LIKE THAT! Oh, Carmy- Are you ok? Go- go out of here- go” Natalie shrieks at donna and there’s a loud smashing of glass 
“MY PLATES!!! MY PLATES!!!” Natalie shouts and starts to cry, “Jimmy! Jimmy those are my special china we got at our wedding!” She sobs “Mom! Why are you doing this?!” she pleaded
“That bitch is FUCKED up! What in the fuckin ghetto ass shit! Isn’t this the north side?!” Sadie said, causing Richie to laugh 
“Welcome to the fuckin Berzatto house my friend” he told her loudly over the chaos
“Natalie! Natalie - Honey- Uncle Jimmy will replace your plates, Come on honey we need to get her out I need your help grab her other arm!” I heard Jimmy tell her 
“Oh my god baby” I heard from behind me and Carmy rushed over, touching my back and I flinch.
“Don’t- don’t touch me I’m gonna have a panic response I can’t see- I don’t wanna hurt you” I said quickly, trying to even my breathing and stop crying so hard. “Please get my bag” I told him, continuing to rinse my eyes until the pain had subsided enough to open them. 
“Yeah- uh…yeah” he said and I heard him go into the living room. I felt around the counter until I found the paper towel, patting my face down with it to dry.  
When he came in, I took my glasses out of my purse, putting them on my face to see his cheek was unnaturally bright red- it looked so painful. There was a big raised mark with fanned out stripes from a handprint - she slapped him so hard it would bruise. 
Suddenly, my panic for myself melted away and I went in to protector mode, any worry or fear melted and reformed into concern for the sweet, damaged man before me. “Oh..Bear” I whispered, rushing to the freezer and getting a bag of frozen vegetables. “My poor love” 
I went over, gently pressing it to his cheek and he hissed in pain “yeah…” he said softly. “ it looks bad?” He asked
“I think she should go to jail. Either that or she agrees to go to rehab,” I said softly, gently thumbing out the wrinkle in his brow with my thumb. 
“She’s not gonna go to rehab” he muttered, looking up at the ceiling and swallowing hard. I could tell he was biting back tears, as was I, because this environment wasn’t safe to cry. 
“Then she goes to jail. Because this is gonna give you a black eye - and don’t you know how much I love your pretty face?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit and I kissed his good cheek. 
He cracked the slightest smile, “yeah she really got me. She’s never uh…well not since I was a kid but I don’t think she’s ever hit me with all her strength like that. I was scared for a second she broke my fuckin jaw” he said and I gently rub his shoulder 
“Baby really” I said softly. “Half of your face is gonna be bruised. She needs help” I said quietly. 
“But….she’d never forgive me” he said brokenly, averting my gaze. 
“Forgive you?! Oh bear. No, no my love. Carm, you should be thinking if you can ever forgive her. Not the other way around.” I gently rub his chest “lets go sit on the couch ok? We don’t want this rash to set and it’ll be so much worse. Cold compress should help the aching and the red and the swelling” I explained. He nodded a bit and took over holding the bag, going with me to the living room. 
“I want you on my lap” he said softly and I nodded, sitting down and wrapping my arm across his shoulders, holding the bag with my other hand against his cheek. 
“They’re fine- yeah- Winnie- how are your eyes?” Syd asked as she came in the living room talking on the phone 
“Okay Syd, thanks. It’s Carmy I’m worried about- is your ear ok bear?” I asked him 
“Still ringing” he mumbled, resting his other cheek on my chest and shutting his eyes. 
“He says his ear is ringing. I’m gonna have him checked out tomorrow” I told her and she nods
“Do you…wanna press charges?” She asked and I shrug 
“Tell them well know when they get here based on her behavior and if she’s being remorseful,” I said and she nodded, heading back to the front room. 
“Oh my god- oh god. Carmy - Carmy I’m so sorry” Natalie said, rushing in and sitting next to us, “Winnie- Winnie I’m so sorry please forgive me I promise. I told her she has to go to rehab I told her she has to go or she can’t come here anymore-“ I cut her off 
“Natalie…” I said softly. “If she doesn’t agree to be checked into an emergency rehab center- tonight? She is going to jail. Tonight. I will make sure of it. So if you don’t want her to go to jail, I would go talk her into rehab. There is nothing you have to be sorry to us for, lovey. If anything- apologize to Pete? Apologize to your daughters. But not us. Because Carmen has been saying for at least 2 months he no longer wants to interact with her, and the only time he has to is when you push him to do so. I love you, it’s why I’m telling you this. And I appreciate the roll you have in Carmys life and all you do for him- but you are enabling her. And it’s hurting the family. No matter what happens after tonight- this is the last time either of us will see her unless we’re shown definite proof she is sober.” I explained.
 Carmen just sat silently, his other cheek flush against my chest with his eyes closed, likely pretending to not be here. He didn’t have the mental strength to stick up to her like this right now, nor did he have the emotional capacity to do it gently. So I was stepping up to take the load for him. 
  “Okay…” she nodded “okay.” She repeated and went back out to the front yard where Jimmy had wrangled Donna off to wait for the cops.  “I love you” he muttered into my shirt, and he sounded utterly defeated.
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Donna had chosen rehab- reluctantly. It wasn’t without a huge fight between her, Carmy, and Natalie, with many tears from each side being shed. 
When we finally got home, we wordlessly stripped out of our clothes, I started the shower for us and he got our towels for us and set out our night time lavender lotion we shared on top of the counter. I put the towels in the warmer Carmy had bought for us, since he said it ‘was too much an effort for me to put them in the dryer while we shower, and the floor out there was so cold, and he dripped all over while going to get them’ so the $200 purchase was well worth it to him.  
We had a silent shower, but it was not any less intimate then any of our other shared showers. We still washed each other, we still gently brushed eachothers wet strands of hair off of the others forehead. I had to swallow a lump in my throat each time my gaze met the raised bumps on his swollen red cheek. 
I wasn’t sure how I was going to get through the next few weeks until he healed. I’d much rather her had slapped me. I could hardly imagine what he was going through inside his head right now. I had to actually remove myself and go throw up when I heard him crying, begging her to listen to Sugar and just go with her to rehab- or he would have to tell the cops to take her. 
Apparently, she went through the typical stages of grief an addict goes through when realizing they’ve been backed into a corner and are no longer able to make the choice to keep using for themself. She had started by telling them the classic
‘I know- I know I’ve done some messed up things- I know I’ve hurt you kids! But I’m your mother- you really are gonna send your mother to jail? Hmm? Carmy? My littlest bear. You’d send your mama away? I don’t believe that, Carmen. Oh Carmen Anthony. My sweetest boy. Don’t you  let your sister control the situation- you don’t want this sweetheart you don’t want to do this to your mother’ 
And when Carmen simply told her ‘no- I’m with Sug, mom you need rehab- this can’t keep goin’ ’ she flew off the handle once more, screaming at him, Sugar and the police - telling them that they were crazy- that all of them were lying about her, and that she didn’t even have a problem at all. That her ingrate horrible leech children- the ones that she had left at least, had planned for her to be taken away and locked up because they hate her- for why? She couldn’t give an answer to that in her drunken state. 
For the last part of her Oscar worthy performance - She wailed, she screamed, she cursed Carmen and told him he was a mistake- that together he and Natalie had ruined her life. That she ‘knew she should have stopped at Michael.’ That they drove their father away together, drove her to drink, and then drove their brother to do what he did. That they took everything from her. That her very pregnancy’s and births with them were pure hell- as if she was birthing demons and that she’d been miserable since the day Natalie had been born, and that it hadn’t stopped. And not without telling Carmen he made things all the more worse. 
In her vicious words, as told to me by Syd while Carmen comforted Natalie in the laundry room as she sobbed so hard she could barely breathe - the last thing Donna said after finding out Carmy would be the one paying for her treatment - while she being put in Pete’s car so he could drop her off was; 
“Your father couldn’t handle your social deficits anymore- so he left us. that’s what really happened you drove your father away from your brother and sister. You’re the reason the family is the way it is.” 
After Syd told me, I sobbed so hard I threw up again. 
The look on Carmen’s face when he came to collect me in the living room to leave after tending to Natalie and getting her to bed was nothing short of haunted. 
The drive back, likely goes without saying- was silent. 
Carmy cut off the water after he finished delicately rinsing my hair, opening the curtain and grabbing my towel first, wrapping it around my body. 
“Thanks.” I muttered, squeezing the water from my hair before drying my body off and stepping out. 
He hummed in response. The rest of the evening was that- silent. It was almost a shell shock kind of silent. I felt insane guilt, so much so that silent hot tears rolled down my cheeks as we laid in the dark, trying our best to get some sleep. 
“I- I know we said goodnight already” I sniffle, my voice hoarse and raw from crying. “I’ll shut up after this- I just had to tell you I’m sorry. I’m so so fucking sorry Bear. I’ll listen to you from here on. I’m sorry- It- it was so stupid it was my fault- you know your family better than anyone I was so dumb to push you and to ask to stay. I think back on it and I realize why you got upset when I asked on the porch- but hindsight is always 20/20. I got you hurt. I hurt you and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. You know I never would intentionally hurt you…right? And it feels like- like I did this to you” I said, gently rubbing his arm. 
He sat up, flicking on the lamp on his side. “It’s my mom.” He said, wiping my tears. “Please. Baby. Please. I- I can’t be away from you tonight- but if I start gettin’ worked up again- I’m not gonna be able t’sleep here. Please. Princess,  Honey - I love you. I fucking love you. Is that what you need? I need you to be okay right now baby- at least not cryin’. I’m hangin’ on-“ he took a shaking breath “I’m hangin by a thread. I already texted Jazz” he whispered, rubbing his face over to rid any building tears. 
I swallowed thickly “I love you, Ok. Ok I’m done, I just had to tell you how sorry I am…” I said, quickly shoving all my emotions into a too small box and locking the bulging lid. He needs me right now. 
“Here, you’ll be little tonight. Turn off the light” I said, laying flat and opening my arms for him. 
He shut off the light, nuzzling his face into my neck, pulling me close as he possibly could. With a featherlight touch, I brush his hair off his forehead so it doesn’t tickle my mouth, gently dragging my nails across his scalp. “Thank you” he muttered.
He shivered a bit, his breath hitching slightly before he melted into me, sighing deeply. “I love you, so much, Carmen. Wholeheartedly. As sure as I am the sun will come up tomorrow, that’s how sure I am I love you. With every cell of my being. And I want you to know that it’s okay to be hurting. It’s okay to show you’re hurting, bear. You’re safe” I said quietly, before kissing his forehead tenderly. 
He remained silent, fingers gently moving along the skin of my back. I continued gently scratching his scalp, rubbing his back in long soothing strokes, the only sound in the room being our breathing and my noise machine. It remained that way for about 20 minutes, before he started softly shaking with silent sobs, holding me tighter and sniffling every so often. 
It went on like this for quite a while. My neck was soaking wet, so was my pillow he was nuzzled on- I didn’t care. I could flip it over. The itch of tear droplets gliding down my skin was only temporary. What he needed right now, was to be held. And to be loved. So that is what I’d give him, without any stipulation, or question, or expecting him to offer any answers. 
“You didn’t deserve it. Any of it. Remember that, ok? I know it hurts. You deserved a good mother, Carm. We both did.” I said softly, kissing the side of his head. 
He nodded gently, tightening his grip on me. “My fucking face hurts again. Like a bitch” he whimpered sadly. 
I swallowed the lump in my throat that formed at the sound of his wet tear filled voice “Give me a second Bear, I’ll be right back yeah? You’re getting too hot, It’s worse cause you're getting all warm and its makin’ the blood rush to your face and it’s throbbing. Cold will help it feel better, let me help you sweets” He wordlessly let me up and I quickly padded out to the freezer. 
Persephone meows, twirling around my legs for attention. “Hey you” I sniffled, tears brimming my eyes without an ability to stop them. I crouched down to pet her and blinked the blurry haze away, the offending tears rolling down my cheeks and dripping in 2 thick droplets onto the floor. 
“Carmy is sad right now, ok? Can you come give us your sweet Sephy snuggles and make him feel better? I know you can make him giggle silly girl” I wiped my face with his white shirt, shaking my head and trying to get ahold of myself.  
“Mama can do this, kittens. I can do it” I told myself, standing up again and momentarily resting the ice pack on each of my puffy eyes before blowing my nose with a tissue and heading back. 
“Hi sweet boy” I said softly, carefully getting back in bed and laying with him. 
“Hey” he sniffled.
I opened my arm for him “Here, we can both be cold” I joked. Resting the ice pack where he usually laid on my chest and patting it. “This will make it feel so much better, Bear” I assured him. 
“Thank you” he said, gently resting his cheek and closing his eyes. He was hiccuping and doing one of those post-sob sniffles every so often, as I resumed petting his hair. 
“Everything happens for a reason, Bear. And I’m really grateful I’m able to tell you I love you, tonight. I love you, and I’m here- I’ll always be here” I said softly and kissed his forehead with a gentle peck.  “You too…” He whispered, and that was the last thing either of us said that night.
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The next morning naturally due to the stress I woke up extra early. Well- shamefully half because of the stress. Half because Sadie was coming over for coffee and we were gonna do our usual Taylor album release antics.
I grabbed my phone carefully, seeing that Sadie had sent me twenty seven texts since midnight. The last one being 
THAT CRAZY BITCH!! SHES RELEASING A PT 2. 31 FUCKIN SONGS WIN!!
I gasp quietly, ever so gently untucking Carm’s arm around me and getting up carefully. I picked up Seph who was comfy laying on his hip, squeaking in protest. 
I shush her, kissing her nose and carrying her to the kitchen. “Queen put a new album out fluffabutt!!” I whispered, taking out 2 coffee mugs. 
I grabbed my phone, FaceTiming Sadie “oh! Perfect! I’m at Starbucks what are you feeling?” She asked and I opened the cabinet, putting away the 2 glass mugs. 
“Can I have a large like- triple shot added americano? With extra oatmilk - vanilla and cold foam, iced?” I said and she laughed 
“Jesus Christ ok I’ll be ready to do CPR I guess” she joked. 
“Yup, Carm and I had a late night, shall I spare you the details?” I joked and she snorted, pulling up to the drive through. 
“Please- I don’t have to hear it twice.” She paused to put in our order “what does he like?” She asked
“Oh- black with sugar. He’s a weirdo. Thank you- I’ll cashapp you” I told her and she relayed it to the person working the line 
“Don’t worry about it- I’ll be there soon Kay?” She asked and I smiled a bit and nod 
“Sounds good. Love ya drive safe!” I told her 
“Love you!” She replied as I hung up. 
I heard stirring in the bathroom and the toilet flushed, so I headed back over to the bedroom just as Carm lays back down on his side of the bed.
“G’morning lovey” I said softly
“Hey- whats’up why’ya outta bed?” He yawned. My heart ached slightly at the sight of his puffy eyes and red nose from crying so long last night, but mostly the reddening on his cheek.
“Uh- it’s Taylor day- Sadie was coming over but we’re gonna get outta here so you don’t have to listen to us, don’worry” I sit down on my side of the bed. 
“Why?” He asked, wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me to him. 
“We don’t wanna bug you…” I shrugged a bit. My past boyfriends would sometimes get annoyed about my passion for music- especially Taylor, and Sadie was just as loud and enthusiastic as I was- and especially due to the previous nights events. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d be feeling snappier then usua & didn’t want to deal with our squealing and excited antics. 
“Why’d you bein’ happy bug me, honey?” He said softly, resting his head on my lap and looking up at me. 
I shrugged, gently playing with his hair. “I dunno… I guess if it’s ok we’ll stay, we’ll make sure t’be quiet cause you need your sleep baby your eyes are exhausted” I said softly, gently running my thumb over the bags under his eyes with my other hand. He sighed contently nuzzling his face in my stomach. 
“Sounds good t’me…Can I ask you somethin’ and you won’t laugh?” He asked, eyes still closed. 
“I’d never laugh at you, baby. Well- except that one time you thought rupaul were 2 different people.” I teased with a giggle and he snorts a laugh 
“Stop it I’m serious. Did that all….really happen? Last night?” He asked and I gently bit my lip. 
“I love you, and your mom is getting help. If that’s what you mean” I said, trying to lead with the good and put the bad as gently as I possibly could. 
He sighed softly “mmhmm.” he muttered, remaining quiet for a little bit. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he didn’t want to speak any more about it. Considering last night was the first time i’d met his mother- he was likely feeling embarrassed knowing him (which he shouldn’t be) but nonetheless- nothing I could say would remove that shame from him. The shame of being the child of an unhealed alcoholic was a wound that no one or nothing could heal unless she got the help she needed.
“Wait don’t we gotta go get the album or whatever baby? From Target yea?” He peeked up at me. My heart swelled at the fact he remembered that I told him about the little process Sadie and I had when Taylor would release an album. We didn’t go as far as to having a huge party and staying up until midnight how we used to, but we’d both take the day off work & get starbucks before going to target and buying the Vinyl & CD & listening it in her car together while we do a mini road trip and get lunch.
When I’d told him about it- he said it was ‘really sweet’ and that it seemed like a great time, I told him it was and jokingly invited him expecting him to pass- but surprisingly he agreed, & told me he likes hanging out with Sadie and I because we were ‘funny’ which just made me fall in love with him all the more that he enjoys my best friends company how I do.
I shook my head a bit “No carmy. We can just relax- we had a hard night. It can just wait you’re more important” I said gently and he sat up a bit, furrowing his brows slightly.
“No- no, I have therapy at 2 we got time you’ve been wantin’ this baby. I wanna see too what it’s about. All the letters and stuff? Mm? It’ll be fun right?” He rubbed my arm gently. I had been telling him all about the letters Taylor had been posting on her social media in preparation for the album. I  never expected him to be actually listening since I was just rambling on and I know he doesn’t listen to music so I thought he was just letting me go on because he cares about me.
“You really…you really care?” I asked, astonished he would even humor me by tolerating my interests- let alone actually asking questions about them and wanting to learn and participate in them the same way I’d ask him about cooking. 
“What? Yes. Yes, honey, I love listenin’ t’you talk about this stuff. Y’fuckin light up when you do. How could I not like it if it makes you happy?” He asked and I felt tears welling up behind my eyes. 
I hugged him tightly, nuzzling my face in his neck and he wrapped me in a bear hug, laying back on the mattress as I curl myself around him. “Y’think I don’t realize when y’tell me things you’re lookin’ forward to babe?” He asked gently and rubs my back soothingly. 
“I love you. So much” I whispered, blinking away hot stinging tears. “Nd you give such good hugs” I giggled, smiling when I feel him chuckle against me. 
“So you’ve told me” he kissed my temple “Now tell me princess, how do we do this? You said it’s a process hm?” He asked and I smiled big, sitting back and looking at him with my arms wrapped around his neck loosely. 
I knew he wasn’t a particular fan of hers, Carmy wasn’t really a fan of anything. He barely listened to music on his own, but because I listened to music near constantly - he’d gotten well adjusted to something always playing, and it was usually her. He would make it a point to say “ I do really like this one honey what’s it about?” When he’d heard ones he liked while cooking dinner or breakfast for us and of course I’d happily oblige. 
“Uh..” my cheeks heat as he kissed down my jaw and neck “so - we usually listen to the first single separately…” my breath hitches as he stops at my collarbones, tugging the collar of his shirt down over my shoulder easily and biting down gently on the fleshy part. He hummed as if to say ‘go on’ 
“That- would um..be the first track so. Yeah and then we listen to the rest together but like slow- we relisten to the songs over and over, it’s weird” I said, losing my train of thought as he kissed the top of my breast, sucking lightly before pulling away and looking up at me.
“Put it on then mm?” he rested his chin in the hill of my breasts looking up at me with those big blue puppy eyes of his. 
“I’m gonna tell you a lot today but I love you and you’re the best” I kissed his forehead gently and grabbed my phone from the nightstand. 
He smiled a bit, blush creeping across his cheeks. “So since im the best…does that mean we can fool around before Sadie gets here?” he sucked on my neck gently and I scratch his hair gently as I one handedly checked her location. 
“She’s 7 minutes away don’t think so especially since she has a key” I connect my phone to my bluetooth speaker. 
“Mmm” he huffs brattily,  leaning into my touch and closing his eyes.
“Ok, it’s been less then 24 hours, you little pervert- this one’s called Fortnight, A Fortnight if you don’t know is a period of 2 weeks. If you can remember the name of one song from this album before we go to bed I’ll do whatever you want any position at all” I smirked and he looked up at me quickly, like a puppy being asked if they’d like to go on a walk. 
“The mating press one?” he asked and I roll my eyes playfully with a smirk.
“Yes you horny fucker. Now shhh” I kissed his lips gently as I hit play on the song so he couldn’t ask any more questions.
He hummed happily and cupped my cheek with his calloused hand, rubbing his thumb over my cheek sweetly. When he pulled away he said, “The beat is cool” which made me smile big and pull him into another sweet kiss, gently rubbing over the back of his neck.
I gently rested my head on his shoulder as I listened and he snorted a laugh at the line ‘Your wife waters flowers, I want to kill her.’ “She’s so honest about her feelings, it’s refreshing” he mutters and I giggle a bit.
“Well yeah- if I lost you and then you went off and dated someone else and got married and we ended up being neighbors? If you didn’t move i’d fantasize about killing that bitch every day” I laced our fingers together.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Marriage would be completely off the table if you left me, so it’d never happen” He said and I blushed pink, squeezing his hand gently. 
“I’d never leave you, Bear. Ever, you know that. Here let me see hows your cheek baby?” I gently turn his face and bit my lip at the fanned out pink and deep red marks as well as a blotch in the middle of his cheek. 
“Yeah I look fuckin…horrible” he cleared his throat, looking away from my gaze. I shook my head quickly
“Baby-” I swallowed thickly, trying to hold back my tears and maintain an even normal voice. He hated when I cried, it always made him so upset, so the last thing I needed was to make him hurt more then he already was right now. “It looks fine.” I lied “I meant are you hurting? Can I get you some tylenol or something? Want me to ice it for you?” I asked and barely even brushed my finger over it and he winced.
“Ah- don’t” he hissed and I frowned. 
“I’m gonna go get an ice pack love” I got up and went to the freezer. The way he wasn’t fighting on me, meant it really was hurting him- but Carmy is Carmy and wasn’t ever going to complain. But it still bothered me how he would just sit there in pain & not say anything about it so I could take care of him.
I came back to bed with the icepack and gently held it to his face and he sighed in relief. “Thank you angel” He said softly. I paused the song before it could start the next one without Sadie here and kissed his forehead. 
“Of course sweets, I’m gonna get dressed mm?” I said and he hummed in agreement, taking the icepack and holding it to himself, laying back on the bed and sighing softly to himself. 
“So do you have a special Taylor outfit too baby?” he asked as I opened my closet. I smiled a bit, looking through it.
“Kinda- I’m gonna wear my Folklore cardigan” I took it out and tossed it on the bed and he looks at it carefully, dragging his finger over the embroidered stars “Cause that’s what Sadie’s wearin’ so were gonna match” I said and speak of the devil, I heard the door open.
“In here! He’s already up, Oh my god!! ‘My husbands cheating I wanna kill him?!’ Bitch this albums gonna be insane” I called out to herand she came to the bedroom, baring a tray of coffees.
“Stop it’s been on repeat since last night for me, It’s so good!! Hey Carm” she greeted him and goes over, setting the tray on the nightstand and handing him the only hot coffee in the tray.
“Oh-Uh, thanks…” He said shyly. He still hadn’t been able to be out of his shell fully unless it was just us, but he was slowly getting there. His eyes slightly widen as I started stripping and putting on a fresh pair of panties and a bra while Sadie and I continued casually talking.
“Oh the first part about being sent away- literally us” I said causing us both to laugh as I hit play on the song again. 
“First thing I thought when I heard it, oh are we twinning?! Cuutee!!” She said excitedly with a smile.
“So…you just look at eachothers tits?” Carm asked bluntly and Sadie and I both laugh.
“No- weirdo- shes just changing i’m not staring at her. You don’t change in front of your dude friends?” she asked and he shook his head.
“You’ve never changed in front of other dudes?” she asked to which he shook his head again lightly as he held the icepack to his cheek.
“He didn’t play any sports bug” I told her as I jumped and wiggled into my jeans before buttoning them. 
“Ahhh- ok. That tracks, when did you graduate?” she asked him.
“High- High School? Er…” he asked, looking at me nervously before looking back at her. If she’d been a stranger I’d willingly save him from the discomfort of being asked about himself - but it’s healthy for him to branch out and talk to people since he refused to do it himself, and Sadie was more then safe for him to try that with.
“Yeah! I went to Gage Park and graduated in 2012 - same year as Win” she nodded 
“Oh- uh..no I um… I went to Foreman and graduated in 2011” he replied and took a sip of his coffee. “How’d you know?” he motioned to the cup and she shrugged with a smile
“If I said i’m a coffee psychic i’m not sure you’d believe me, your lovely pooh bear has your order memorized,” she said and I rolled my eyes, putting on my deodorant with a small smile.
 “It’d be more impressive if he remembered my order since his is literally just sugar” I said and Sadie grabbed my cup from the nightstand, covering the sticker.
“Boyfriend test! What’s her coffee order?” she teased him and I looked over at him raising my eyebrows playfully.
“Here’s your real test of love” I joked, slipping my cardigan on and grabbing my hairbrush, beginning to detangle my rats nest from not tying it up before I went to sleep. 
He rolled his eyes playfully. “Iced americano, with shots in it depending on how tired she is- and then add vanilla, and extra light with the oatmilk shit, and extra of the cold foam stuff on the top - and cinnamon” he said and Sadie raised her eyebrows in surprise, looking over at me.
“Trained ‘em well” she said and I laughed, pausing my hairbrushing to come give him a well deserved kiss.
“Do I love you yet?” he joked and I giggle, pinching his bicep playfully. 
“Remembered the cinnamon huh?” I kiss the tip of his nose and he pats my bum gently. 
“Yes- can we please turn on the next song now? We’ve heard it 50 times now babe” He asked and I laugh a bit. 
“More like less then 10, but ok lover because I don’t want you sick of us just yet” I hit skip to start playing the next song which was the title track as I sat at my vanity and finished brushing my hair. Sadie came up and put my coffee on the vanity for me, going over to my perfumes and smelling various ones as we listened. 
Came the part of the song where the lyrics were ‘I scratch your head, you fall asleep - like a tattooed golden retriever’ and Sadie and I stared at eachother for a moment before looking at Carmen, then back to eachother and cracking up. She had witnessed many times now when we’d have little dinner party’s with he and Syd when they insisted on cooking for us and showing us a new recipe, he’d work himself so hard that sitting on the couch after everything had been cleaned up when I was gently playing with his hair he’d fall asleep in my lap and miss them leaving. 
“Hey- What! What’s funny?” he asked, not even realizing the lyrics we were laughing at, not having been paying attention like we were and he puts his coffee down. “Tell me! Tell me what did I do?” He whined a bit with a slight pout, how he usually did when he realized he’d missed a joke and I laughed at his adorable childlike tiny tantrum.
“Nothin’ - Taylor had a little tattooed golden retriever too I guess” I shrugged and he put the icepack down, confused. 
“Hell��s that mean?” he asked and came over to me, watching as I put on my eyeliner. 
“It means you’re cute and have nice energy, baby” I said before resuming to carefully draw a sharp wing.
“Mm” he grumbled how he did when he didn’t understand me but was just deciding to let it go. “How long will this take? I wanted you t’try that sauce i’m makin’ when we get back” he kissed the top of my head lightly as I paused to shake the pen so more ink would go to the tip.
“Not long, Bear. We’ll be back with plenty of time to try your sauce, yeah? Go shower baby” I said, leaning into the mirror as I start my other eye. 
“Kay…y’look pretty” he said softly and rested his hand on the desk, leaning. I smiled a bit 
“Thank you, you’re hovering, lovey. Did you want a kiss?” I puckered my lips and his cheeks redden in response as he leans down and kisses my lips. 
“Thank you” he muttered 
“Baby you can ask me for loves when Sadies here, shes not gonna judge you” I assured him and she looks up from her phone.
“What?” she replied, clearly not having paid attention. 
“See” I assure him and rub his chest just above his belly gently. “Make sure you dont let your face hit the hot water ok lovey?” I ask and he nodded a bit. It was more than clear that last nights events were causing him to be much clingier and wanting of physical touch which was more then normal after something like that, especially for him. The last time he’d had a big blowout fight with his mom, he’d not even wanted me to go to the bathroom alone - his mind was absolutely a prison in times like this, and me being near made it easier to manage. 
“Mm i’ll be careful” he said and went to the bathroom, shutting the door since Sadie was here and preoccupying Sephy so she wouldn’t feel the need to go and scratch.
“So…How was like- after” Sadie asked when she heard the water start. I cleared my throat, nervously stretching my back and shaking my eyeliner pen some more. 
“Not much. He’s not a talker, made sure he knew I was here. He cried a little, it’s better then nothing. He’s seeing his therapist.” I told her and she nods a bit, looking at me in the mirror. 
“His sister was a mess too, like- her husband had to drop her kids off at his parents house so they wouldnt see the rest of it. She kinda bitched me out when I opened the laundry room by mistake, Syd said she didn’t mean it, though” she picked at her nails nervously.
“She didn’t, Sadie. Natalie really is one of the nicest people. His family is just…” I sighed. “She said it was like this before their brother, but- now its like…no love left. Like he was the main string that tied the family all together and now that he’s gone- it’s impossible to be together. My therapist says that a tragedy like that either breaks a family or brings them closer together- Chris broke mine too, so I don’t blame them. I wasn’t strong enough - er…my family wasn’t strong enough, either.” I explained and she shook her head.
“No way, Win. You’re so strong, and so, so smart. It wasn’t your job- it was your familys job.” She said and I sighed softly, finishing up my eyeliner. I wanted to believe her - but something in me couldn’t help but feel weak at the fact I had no family left that bothered to speak to me other then my Grandma, and I had Carmy and his family right in front of me in dire need of help and I’m not even the one hurting this time- and I still cant save him from them. 
I’m pulled from my thoughts by Carm’s phone ringing - “Hand it please” I requested since Sadie was laying on my side of the bed, she leaned over and grabbed the phone before reaching out to me and handing it over. 
Natalie's name flashed on the screen and I slid it, to answer putting the phone to my ear.  “Carmy? Mom had a seizure last night apparently- uh…they’re saying she has some…some- disease from drinking? Please- how fast can you get here? I really don’t wanna do this by myself…”
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➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫
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kelcemenow · 11 months
Text
As The Snow Falls - Chapter 8.
Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader
Words 1551
Warnings Strong language, angsty arguments, mentions of trauma.
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CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
"What?" You craned your neck to look at Travis, his eyes serious and sincere.
"Come to Kansas City tomorrow." He repeated, "Look, we're leaving in the morning. So the way I see it, we either go our separate ways, or we hang out for a few days more and see what happens?"
You chewed your bottom lip, the excitement building up in your chest. The possibility of spending more time with Travis filled you with an intense feeling of exhilaration that you had never felt before.
Your thoughtful expression quickly moved into a smile, "I would really love to."
Travis' eye's widened and he clenched his fists with triumph, "Alright! Yeah! Wooh!" He bellowed out to the picturesque snow-topped mountains.
You giggled, uncontrollably, "Travis, what are you doing? Cut it out!"
"No way! I want to the world to know, that this incredible girl here..." He held your hand up high into the air, "...has agreed to hang out with me!"
You covered your mouth with your free hand, laughing loudly as the birds fluttered out of the trees from being disturbed by Travis' noise. He enveloped you into a tight embrace and as he placed a small kiss on your forehead, the lift came to halt at the top of the mountain. You wriggled yourself off off the chair and onto the crisp snow, shuffling your skis towards the piste. Travis followed behind you, still grinning from ear to ear.
"Okay. Skiing 101. The most important thing when you...are you paying attention, Travis?"
As you turned around, Travis' eyes quickly moved from your ass to your face.
"Oh, I'm paying attention." He said with a smirk.
______________________________________________________________
Travis' large hand gave yours a gentle squeeze as you approached the door of the cabin.
"Meet you in the hot tub?" He said, with an attractive gravelly sound in his voice.
You flashed your teeth in a grin, "I'll be there in 10."
Travis raised your hand and pressed a kiss into your knuckles, causing your stomach to flutter. You took a slow breath as you watched him stroll inside, a slight bounce in his step, before making your way through the doorway yourself. Pulling your jacket off, the dry, warm air instantly caused your numbed skin to tingle. You hung your hat and goggles by the coat stand and sauntered into the kitchen in search for a warm drink to defrost you further. As you turned the corner, you noticed Kylie by the coffee maker, stirring her sweetener into the dark black liquid.
"Hey, girl." You sang out to her.
Her head swung around to face you, her long blonde hair tied up into a ponytail, "Here she is! So, how was it?"
"It was nice. Nothing crazy." You said, grabbing a cup from the cupboard above your head. "We talked, we caught up from the last few years, we skied..." You trailed off with a laugh, "He needed a little help in that department. I assumed that because he was a professional athlete, he would be better at skiing, but he just kept falling down and no matter how much I tried to stay upright, he just dragged me down with him. Seriously, I have snow all up in my-"
You quickly stopped your rambling and turned to the coffee maker when you noticed Kylie raising her eyebrows as you rambled on. She pressed her lips together, anticipation filling her eyes, "Did he ask you?"
"Did he ask...wait, what?"
Kylie tapped the spoon on the edge of the cup, "Trav tells Jason everything and Jason tells me everything." She turned around and rested her lower back on the counter top, "So, did he ask you?"
You filled your cup with the steaming coffee, "Yes. Yes he did."
"And?"
"And...I'm going to KC with Travis tomorrow."
Kylie let out a loud squeal, her knees almost buckling with excitement, "Oh my God, I love this!"
You looked at her wide eyes, "Will you calm down?"
"I can't! This is exciting!" Kylie nudged you with her elbow as she brought the coffee cup to her lips, "He really likes you, Y/N."
A soft glow appeared on your cheeks, "I really like him." You said in an almost whisper.
Kylie looked as if she was ready to burst with happiness, "Eeeeeee!" She squeaked as quietly as she could. "I think this is a really good idea. Trav is a great guy and he's going to treat you so well."
Your eyes creased from your wide smile, "I know, I feel good about this."
She carefully placed her coffee down onto the kitchen top and pulled you into her side for a hug. You rested your head on her shoulder and noticed Jasmine lingering at the doorway.
"I don't like the vibe that I get from her." Kylie said in a low voice.
You watched as she paced, occasionally checking her watch, "Jas is...complicated. She's been my friend for years." You shrugged.
You caught her eye and she seemed surprised to see you, her mouth dropping open slightly and her eyebrows raising. She hastily walked towards you, a forced smile on her face, "You're back!"
"Yep!" You said plainly.
She sighed, "Where's Travis? I was hoping to catch him." She turned her head, searching the room.
"He's gone to get changed for the hot tub."
"Oh!" She said excitedly, "Awesome. Well, I'll go and do the same. I'm sure you wouldn't mind me joining you."
You sensed that Jasmine wasn't asking you. She was telling you.
"Uhhh...n-no. It's fine." You stuttered.
As she turned away, Kylie took a small step forward, "No, wait...I'm sorry. Jasmine, is it?"
A lump formed in your throat and Jasmine rolled her eyes slightly, but enough for you to notice.
"I think maybe we should leave Y/N and Travis to it. You know, let them have some time alone?" Kylie smiled.
"Alone time?" Jasmine scoffed, "They've been together all day. Just saying, she needs to learn to share."
"I'm stood right here, Jasmine. Please don't talk about me like I'm not."
Jasmine rolled her eyes again, "Babe, seriously. It's not that deep. Maybe you just need to relax."
"And maybe you need to fucking back off?" Kylie's voice grew louder, her frustration building.
You stepped forward and held your hands out, "Okay, okay...I'm not here to start any drama. I don't want that."
"Tell your little bodyguard here to watch her mouth." Jasmine spat back to you whilst her eyes were fixed on Kylie.
"Jasmine-"
"Y/N, I don't understand why you feel the need to do this again?" Jasmine said calmly.
Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion, "Do what again?"
"This. It's like Aaron all over again."
"Aaron? What the fuck does Aaron have to do with anything?" Your throat was closing at the mention of his name, but your fought back the tears. They were tears of anger, not sadness, but you didn't want to give Jasmine the satisfaction.
"You knew I was into him. But you were so jealous of how close we were, you had to swoop in and steal him for me."
You exhaled a laugh, "Jealous? Are you...oh my fucking God! Are you kidding me?"
"You're not denying it."
Your eyes blinked wildly, "Because it's ridiculous! You know what I went through with Aaron. No, I didn't steal him from you as you seem to think. You're fucking welcome to him. What is crazy is that you're so self-centred you think any of this is about you."
Jasmine shrugged a single shoulder and rolled her eyes for the third time.
"And you can roll your eyes all you want, Jasmine, but the truth is I like Travis, and Travis likes me. Now, I'm sorry if you felt like you had a shot at him but you don't, okay? And no amount of snotty comments or pushing me around is going to change that. Because I'm done with it."
Jasmine widened her eyes, "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I'm done with it. I'm done with you." Your chest was filling with rage, "I've held my fucking tongue for years now. But I'm done."
You could feel Kylie's stare burning into the side of your head but you held your gaze forward, waiting for Jasmine's response. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, arms folded across her body and her eyes unblinking. You could feel your chest getting heavy and the blood rushing to your face, adrenaline pumping furiously through your entire body.
The silence was broken by an exasperated sigh from Jasmine. She glanced towards Kylie before spinning around quickly and disappearing without a word. As soon as she was gone, you swore your legs were about to give way and clung onto Kylie's arm to stop yourself from collapsing on the floor.
"Oh my God! That was insane!" Kylie laughed as she held you upright, "Fuck Y/N, I'm so proud of you!"
"I've wanted to say something for so long, she can't treat people the way she does." Your voice trembled, "Thank you so much for standing up for me."
"Hell no, girl! That was all you!" Kylie turned you to face her, her fingers clinging onto your shoulders, "You're so brave and strong and a fucking badass! Now go and get your guy!"
______________________________________________________________
Oooooooh! Not a whole lot of Travis in this one, I know! But she needed to be told! This story is coming to a close now so I'll be moving onto my request list, so plenty of more fics are coming!!! Let me know if you want to be added to my Taglist so you don't miss anything!!
Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983 @charmed2000 @nouis-bum @cixrosie @delicateearthquakellama @wordsaresimple-imnot @amylouwho9 @queenisa17 @talicat713 @luvvtrent @purecinnamonextract @savaneafricaine @caelipartem @beyxgrande @caitdaniels @ezgirl1108 @vir-tual @lightsoutstyles @macey234 @s294749w @kelcemesoftly @calirindo @livinginmyfantasies @bernelflo @secretmywritingfictionlawyer @killatravtramp @there-goes-thefighter @unicornblueberry @calirindo @tjkelce87 @kristinamae093 @kmc1989 @ajbird18 @triski73 @ctn26 @kgcaputo07 @abby-splace @bobthe-turmpetman29 @cedricbitch @jmamas92 @bellstwd
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warping-realities · 1 year
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Carmichael Corporation - The Interviews (by @dumb-and-jocked)
It's no secret to anyone who follows me that I'm a big fan of the work of two authors @callmecallmecrazy and dumb-and-jocked. And here we have the result of one being inspired by the other's work, something I also did in my own work. I feel fulfilled in making images for the next stories, starting with this one.
“Can you guys believe we actually made it?” Elijah exclaimed proudly. Even as the tallest of the trio at 6’7, he had to arch his back to see the top of the skyscraper in front of him. Elijah had worked hard to get his degree in business, so the prospect in front of him made him feel like he was touching the finish line. He had applied for an interning position in the financial department, and the company had been so impressed with his application that they had set up an interview immediately.
“I will admit, it is pretty incredible,” Dylan added. He was in the middle of the three, having a little over average height at 5’11 and pretty good muscular tone. What really stood out about him though was his voice, for it was a powerful bass that could shake concrete walls and was completely recognizable at any event. He too had applied for an interning position in the financial department, creating a little friendly rivalry between the two.
“I’m still surprised we all made it.” Although Joe was almost a foot shorter than the giant Elijah at 5’7, he made up for his height in sheer body mass. Back in college, he had been the star wrestler of the college, giving him a body packed with pure strength and flesh. One wouldn’t be able to guess it, but Joe was also skilled in another area: accounting. He was so talented in fact that he had actually been scouted out by the company.
“I guess we should head in,” Elijah stated, making his way forward slowly. “If we actually want to work at the Carmichael Corporation, we’ll have to ace these interviews.”
“Oh yeah, like that’ll be hard,” Dylan jeered as he walked through a set of grand swinging doors. “My record is pretty well stacked. I think I have the best chance out of the three of us for this position.”
“Dude, I’m going for accounting.” Joe gave a rough eye roll, before walking off to notify the secretary of their presence. 
“And like I have any competition,” Elijah scoffed as Dylan and himself took a seat on a nearby bench. “Once they see that my name was on the Dean’s List every semester, I’ll get in for sure.”
“You only got that because you were the captain of the basketball team,” Dylan mocked.
“Did not,” Elijah hurled back.
“Did too!” Dylan retorted.
“You understand that I actually worked for those grades, right?” Elijah felt himself get heated as his muscles grew tense.
“Oh you worked for them alright,” Dylan mumbled. “On your knees.”
“Excuse me, bro?!”
“You heard what I said, coc-”
“Gentlemen!”
A sharply dressed male was staring down at the two bickering companions. The man was furiously tapping a pen against his clipboard, obviously irritated. Standing tall in front of the two, he was wrapped up in a gray 3-piece suit with a checkered tie that fit well against his sculpted body. His face showed that although he acted superior, he had to be a similar age to the two young men cowering below him. 
“My name is Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV, and I am one of the Accounting Managers here at the Carmichael Corporation,” he began pompously, effortlessly taking control of the situation. “If you want to work here at the Carmichael Corporation, the first concept you must learn is respect and decency to and in the workplace.”
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“Sorry,” Dylan and Elijah replied in unison, deeply embarrassed and annoyed by the stuck-up prick.
“Now, I assume I will be performing one of your interviews today,” Yale took a moment to look at his clipboard. “Is one of you Joseph Koroll?”
“That’s me.” Joe appeared from behind Yale, surprising the other man a little bit. After checking in, Joe had quickly run to the bathroom to wash his face, finding he had accidentally missed a few hairs when he had shaved this morning. Not noticeable, just a little itchy.
“Exemplary,” Yale responded, causing Joe to give the other two looks that said What’s with this guy?
“Let us make our way to a correspondent room, we have a lot to cover in little time.” Before Joe could comprehend what Yale had said, the other man was already walking towards an elevator. Joe quickly scurried along, waving to his pals before he was lifted up.
“How do you think he’ll do?” Dylan pondered.
“Better than the two of us so far,” Elijah pouted.
— —
“Joseph Koroll.”
“Yes?”
Yale sat straight at his desk, constantly giving off an ill-tempered glare as he peered back and forth between Joe and Joe’s resumé. What made it even more intense was that Yale’s eyes had an oddly captivating color to them. The two sat in a small conference room on the 15th floor overlooking a part of the city below. Joe didn’t feel that nervous--he actually felt quite confident--but the giant yellow chair he sat in made him seem much smaller than he actually was. Even for his muscular figure, he barely filled half the seat, and his head did not make it anywhere near the top. Not only that, but the chair was placed in the center of the room, giving him more attention than he needed.
“I despise that I must admit it,” Yale sighed. “but your experience and credentials are rather splendid.”
“Thank you?” Joe replied back, a little confused.
“If you want to be a part of the Carmichael Corporation however, there are some aspects that must be changed or enhanced.”
“I understand.”
“The Carmichael Corporation is not some urban start-up with jeans and herbal teas.  This is a very demanding industry, one that expects all employees to be obedient and loyal.”
“Of course,” Joe nodded along. “That would make sense.”
“I do not know or care what went on at your last position, but if you want to succeed in this company, it is imperative that orders from a superior be followed. Would you be okay with this level of obedience?”
“Yes sir.” Joe slyly added in the title, sensing he had to accept a power shift.
“That is more appropriate,” Yale smiled. “Now, let us first address the things that need to be changed to be hired. Your attire is the most noticeable facet, as it is unsightly to say in the kindest of terms.”
“Unsightly?” Joe was surprised, finding his red sweater and black slacks quite refined before making eye contact with Yale.
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“And that is the kindest of words,” Yale snickered back. “If you want to succeed, you will need to learn how to dress like a man. Let me read you a small excerpt from the company handbook.”
Yale stuck a hand into his bag and pulled out the largest book Joe had ever seen. It had to be at least 1000 pages, yet Yale had no trouble finding the exact description he was looking for.
“Blazers are classic items that work for semi-formal occasions and casual office places. Even as a man transitions to daily suits, a blazer will always have a place at a garden party or fraternity alumni event. Ties and bowties are a delightful way to add color to an outfit. Business attire defaults to long ties, and more conservative workplaces require more conservative choices. Consider emulating the attire of your superiors.”
Yale continued, “Supports should be practical and supportive. Belts are fine for casual outings; however, braces are more desirable for suiting, both for support and style as it allows a more traditional and flattering cut. Similarly, undergarments should provide support and coverage. Briefs are the most appropriate underwear choice, as it provides support without being extraneous. It is also compatible with tennis and golf; sports you will be expected to participate in and the only sports you will be allowed to play.”
Yale paused and took a deep breath. Once he had finished gathering himself, he looked over at Joe and gleamed with satisfaction. “I believe it is secure to say that you have already anticipated these particular needs of the company. Am I assuming correctly?”
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“Yes sir,” Joe quickly replied. He had made sure to dress in one of his casual outfits today, something comfortable yet reputable. Along with a navy blazer that had been hung on the door, Joe had paired his classic navy polka-dotted tie with a blue button-up and wool dress pants. Sheer socks silently encased his Size 11 feet inside expensive-looking Oxfords, while two bright, yellow suspenders and a hefty watch worked as the statement pieces. He’d also made sure to shave his beard into a beautiful stubble, something that really made him seem both masculine and well-kept. Joe had originally been concerned that the look was a little too casual, but the fact that his superior had noticed it brought a smile to his lips.
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“Superb,” Yale acknowledged. “If you are hired here, you will be expected to meet a certain standard of fitness.”
Yale once again examined Joe before meeting eyes, causing Joe to respond with a smug look.
“Interpreting what I have seen and read, I suspect you will be engaging in a routine similar to the one when you were in varsity golf?”
“Very similar, indeed.” Joe resituated himself in the chair, sitting a little straighter to truly show off his 6’1 height. His tight clothing did an impeccable job showcasing his muscular build, which wasn’t as massive as a bodybuilder’s but definitely imposing. He kicked up one of his Size 14 feet onto his knee, knowing he could now get a little more comfortable.
“You will also need to adapt to our image of masculinity, Joe. This is something that has an adjusting definition for everyone here at the Carmichael Corporation. Do you understand what I am referring to?”
“Not exactly, sir.”
“To explain further,” Yale eyes had a piercing gleam to them. “the duty of a man is to understand that when lacking in some areas of presence, he must identify other ways to consume the devoid territory. Men are meant to take up a certain amount of space, no matter their stature. This does seem appropriate, correct?”
“Yes sir.” Joe completely interpreted what Yale was referring to. It was only natural that some men had larger presences than others, so it was Joe’s duty to match that same standard. Readjusting in his seat once more, Joe felt his wide, plump bottom jiggling about, consuming the entirety of the extra wide seat. He bagged his pants as he sat, causing the crotch of his pants to ride up and give him a distinct moose knuckle. The fluid movement accidentally made him hard, but Joe knew no one would be able to see his 4 inches.
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“Now, I believe the next issue is your tone and speech.” Yale pulled out his handbook once more and flipped to another random page.
“Our manual refers to multiple accessible forms of dialogue, but you will be working with men of all ages from assets and banking within accounting. Therefore, it would be best if you learned how to speak slower and adapt your vocabulary to something better cultivated.”
“Why would that help me exactly?” Joe questioned.
Yale, once again annoyed by Joe’s indecency, glared directly at him before explaining. “It will deepen your voice and give you more presence, which will be extremely helpful in business. You will also be able to use a fuller, more masculine tone--much like my own. I expect that is what you desire?”
“Yes sir.” The words spilled out in nearly double the time they had before. Joe’s tongue felt heavy as he spoke as every syllable seemed to require extra effort to spit out.
“Finally, if you aspire to work at the Carmichael Corporation, it is imperative that you adjust your title.” Yale moved along calmly, not at all caring about Joe’s confusion. “Joe is a very informal name. Lazy and lackadaisical. It sets you up casually in a professional world, agree with me?”
“I guess I don’t know…” Joe muttered, his voice sluggish and insensitive.
“In business, you know how important it is to give the right impression. The men in these industries expect a certain standard of professionality, even in your title. And you must give yourself every possible advantage.”
“Yes, of course sir,” Joe monotoned.
“Professionally, I think you should introduce yourself as your full name, John Millard Koroll.”
“I apologize for the inconvenience, but that is not-”
“And where is your surname from?” Yale interrupted. “Is it German?” 
“No, it is most certainly-”
“Make it German. It will give you a much more asserting presence. And I reckon a suffix would add some competency as well. From now on, we shall refer to each other by our full names to emulate what the atmosphere is like here at the Carmichael Corporation.”
Joe was still at a loss over the last few comments. He was starting to feel a little panicked over the thought of losing his own identity to the corporate world, but before he could think any further on the topic, Yale stepped in.
“That will work for you, will it not,” Yale stood up from his chair and extended a hand, making sure to share a mutual gaze with Joe. “John Millard Koehler III?”
“By all means, Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV.” John Millard’s thick, slow voice drawled out. He got out of his own seat and shook Yale’s hand in a firm motion.
“Splendid!” Yale replied. “Then I can confidently declare that you are precisely what the Carmichael Corporation is scouting for. John Millard Koehler III, you will be starting as early as next week.”
“That is just grand!” John Millard responded cordially. “It is truly an honor, my gratitude, Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV.”
“The honor is all mine, you will be an illustrious addition to our department.” Yale sat back down in his chair and ushered John Millard to do the same. “Before I dismiss you, let us discuss acquisitions and the baseline salary. Here at the Carmichael Corporation, we want to make sure that you can ‘be audit you can be’.”
The two chortled merrily at the accounting joke before getting back to business, knowing they had a prosperous future ahead.
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— —
“It’s been almost an hour,” Elijah exhaled. “Shouldn’t Joe be done with his interview by now?” The two other men were still sitting on the same bench, waiting for anyone to come and greet them like Yale had appeared before. Countless businessmen had passed in front of them, but all of them seemed so eager to work that they didn’t recognize the recently-graduated college students.
“I don’t know,” Dylan replied honestly, twisting a lock of his curly mane within his fingers out of boredom. “I mean maybe this is the corporate world and everything takes a little longer than expected.” He then stretched to loosen up his joints, showcasing the body of a former running back for everyone to see.
“Yeah, but how many questions do they have to ask to see if Joe is a good fit or not?”
“Apparently a lot.” Dylan began swinging his legs back and forth like a child on a swing to entertain himself. The Size 13 canvas shoes went to and fro, hypnotizing him more than they should have. Elijah watched on too, somehow entertained by the small amount of movement.
“Ahem.”
The two young men quickly shot up off the bench, standing solid. In front of them was a brawny man between the pair’s heights. He looked to be somewhere around sixty, as displayed by his slicked-back salt-and-pepper hair, prominent jaw, and robust torso. His body was brilliantly exhibited in a multi-layered suit, one that displayed every shade from silver to slate.
“I assume the two of you are here for the hiring process, correct?”
The two men nodded their heads quickly.
“Very good.” The man made a quick glance at Dylan and motioned him to follow. Dylan did just that, giving a thumbs-up to Elijah before disappearing down a hall.
— —
“Dylan Pringle.”
“Yes… sir?”
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Dylan watched a small smile creep onto the man’s lips after his little addition. There had been a few minutes of back and forth eye contact from Dylan’s resumé and Dylan himself, but he wasn’t feeling too apprehensive. Although the man seemed extremely uptight, Dylan knew there was nothing in his credentials that wouldn’t seem impressive. Plus, the man had already seemed to take a liking to Dylan, as he had been escorted to an expansive office that Dylan assumed had to be the man’s own. It was simply decorated with a few modern black-and-white pictures and two tables lined with retro leather chairs. There were also a few closets and coat racks holding different suits and other formal wear, probably owned by the man himself.
“I must inform you that the position you have applied for has already been filled.”
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The sentence came as a shock to Dylan, causing him to twitch a little in his seat. Dylan was so perplexed that he had to examine the man’s eyes carefully to see if he was telling the truth. He was surprised to discover that they had an oddly charming hue.
“I would regard that as a godsend however, as you were not at all qualified for the position.”
“What do you mean?” Dylan’s bass tone became thundering. “I have everything the job requires... and more!”
“Surely you meant to say 'Sorry Sir, is there another position open?’ as here I thought you were serious about working here at the Carmichael Corporation.”
Dylan was once again caught off-guard.
“Hmm, they told me you were more articulate.” The man made a disappointed grimace before moving on. “I was willing to offer you another position working under me rather than in the financial department as it seems you have no competence in the area. That is generous of me, is it not?”
“Yes, definitely sir.” Dylan was relieved that he still had a chance to work at the Carmichael Corporation, especially after applying for a job he never could have performed.
“Good.” The man walked over to a table and grabbed a rather large book. Dylan was able to catch a quick peek as the man passed by, noticing the pages were lined with questions and guides. Dylan hoped these weren’t all going to be used in the interview for the other position.
“There are a few things you will need to learn quickly if you expect to succeed in this business, do you understand?”
“Yes sir.” Dylan made sure to maintain eye contact to confirm his answer.
“Very good. First, we have a completely reasonable dress code here. I know you may not have expected to wear a suit every day, but it will be required. And by a suit, I expect a minimum of 3 layers in some shape or form.” Dylan cringed in his seat barely, knowing that his black turtleneck and jeans probably didn’t make the cut.
“Sir, are you-” Before Dylan could protest, the man pushed forward.
“I find a certain degree of conformity aids in office morale, is that not fair? I can tell by how you present yourself you also believe this to be true.”
“It is fair, sir.” Dylan agreed. He always made sure to wear multiple articles underneath his blazer, as it made him feel more polished. Even though he was forced to take off his tan blazer at the door, it had allowed him to expose the other garments on his body. These included matching tan pleated pants that graciously showed off his hefty pouch, a white button-up with matching white suspenders that strained heavily against his pecs, and a striped tie that shared the same charcoal color with his wing-tipped derbies. Readjusting his glasses, Dylan waited patiently for the man to continue.
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“I believe it is also appropriate to have a strict haircut policy. Your hair is to be cut every two weeks, and I will refer you to my own barber. You will style it neatly and you will use whatever product I chose.”
“Sir, if I may interrupt.”
“No, you may not.” The man glared down on Dylan. “I expect to see comb lines so sharp that even from a mile away a man could tell you know how to use pomade. Understood?”
“Completely, sir.” Dylan felt like this task would be no problem, as he already maintained his hair strictly. Brushing a hand across his scalp, he was delighted to feel his sharp quiff still held stiffly in place with not a single hair sticking out. He also made sure to rub a hand across his jaw, feeling up the sculpted beard contemptuously.
“Now, you recognize that you would not be starting at the top, correct?”
“Yes sir.”
“Meaning that you would have a certain number of superiors, including myself, correct?”
“Yes sir.”
“So to clarify,” the man began, making sure that their eyes met so he could verify. “You would be an inferior male, underneath me and a plethora of other men.”
“Wait, that isn’t-” Dylan’s booming register was somehow once again cut off.
“You will need to present yourself to this position accordingly, but I believe it is fair to say that will not be an issue.”
“That is accurate, Sir,” Dylan replied reverently in a soft, creamy tenor. He understood where he was on the ladder, and how he’d have to act accordingly. Still sitting in his chair comfortably, the 5’7 man brought his legs closer together, allowing the sides of the Size 8 feet to touch. While doing so, Dylan felt his micropenis twitch eagerly inside his tight briefs, sending an excited reaction to the hole between his two jiggly, doughy buttocks.
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“You will also be expected to attend to some other needs of mine,” Sir started. “Dry cleaning, note taking, errands, and the like.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“You will be loyal, you will be obedient, and you will be my dedicated servant.”
“Sir,” Dylan’s meek voice began. “What do you-”
“To work and succeed at the Carmichael Corporation,” Sir declared through fiery eyes. “it is imperative that orders from a superior be followed. Understood?”
“Yes Sir.” Dylan was willing to do just about anything that could give him an advantage in business; anything that would make his superiors pleased.
“So with that said,” Sir leaned back in his chair happily, dropping the handbook on the desk and crossing his arms across his chest. “If I were to ask you to, say, change your name, would you do that for me?”
“Yes Sir,” Dylan lied through his teeth. He was willing to do just about anything, but not that.
“Here at the Carmichael Corporation, we like to go by our full titles as they allude to more professional, defined statuses.”
“Absolutely, Sir.”
“Let’s first start with Dylan: just a gross, common name. You agree?”
Dylan didn’t, but the thought of a superior changing his name was suddenly tantalizing.
“Personally, I believe you would be more suited as a Dorrance. And for the surname, well,” Sir chuckled wickedly to himself. “Pringle was never an actual name, just a detrimental snack. You would be much better suited with Peabody. Classic, but preppy, which seems to be the direction you’re taking. Though I believe you should at least be a Junior.”
Before Dylan could fire back a string of arguments, Sir had ascended out of his throne and extended a strong palm.
“Congratulations, Dorrance Rotterham Peabody, Jr.,” Sir seemed very pleased with himself. “You will be a great fit as my new personal assistant.”
“Thank you immensely, Sir!” Dorrance replied, jumping out of his chair in excitement and eagerly shaking the man’s hand. “How soon may I begin to work under you?”
“Right away, boy.” Sir made sure to emphasize the demeaning word. “I have a few outfits I need you to sort through and approve of, as you know my taste quite exquisitely.”
“Of course, Sir.” Dorrance followed Sir to a table covered in sheets displaying different suits and styles. He immediately immersed himself into the work, separating out the preferable blacks, navys, and grays from the disgusting other palettes. This extremely pleased Sir, so much so that he wanted to reward Dorrance with something special. So, Sir gave Dorrance’s butt a big appreciation swat as he strutted away, causing Dorrance’s ample rump to shudder within his pants as he continued his work.
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— —
Elijah grimaced, noticing the time on the gigantic clock inside the main lobby had only moved by a minute. The wait had been a lot longer than he had expected, forcing him to cancel an event with friends and a hookup from Grindr. It had been about an hour since Dylan had been taken away to his interview, and almost 2 hours since Joe’s disappearance. He was concerned about what this meant for them, but he was becoming more concerned about what this could’ve possibly meant for himself. Maybe he didn’t have a chance within the Carmichael Corporation. Elijah was beginning to feel as if the employers had completely forgotten him when a young man magically appeared before him, answering his plea.
The man wore a tight fitting suit, seemingly strained at both the broad shoulders and around the crotch.  It was exceptionally subdued, a rather pale black color with a white button-up shirt and a gray tie with a subtle windowpane pattern. He carried a briefcase that looked both rather expensive and rather ordinary. The young man stood ramrod straight, his muscular build hidden by the extremely high rise of his pants, sitting above his belly button just under the rib cage. His powerful jaw--while covered in a little youthful baby fat--spread wide and hung low, giving his face a square, lantern shape. 
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“Elijah Grove.”
“Yes?”
“I assume you are the last respondent today?” His voice was slow and deep, catching Elijah off guard.
“I guess?”
“Do you guess or do you know?” The young man seemed to get rather disgusted by Elijah’s uncertainty. “If you expect to succeed at the Carmichael Corporation, you are going to have to know.”
“I-” Elijah was almost sure he saw the young man’s eyes flash dazzlingly as he began. “I know I am the last respondent, yes.”
“Grand.” The man ushered Elijah to get up and tread closely behind. Following quickly, Elijah was surprised to see that they were leaving the building.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Elijah chose his words carefully. “Where are we going?”
“I am fond of conducting my interviews over promenades,” the young man replied. They steered their way around crowds of businessmen as they ventured into the streets, making random turns here and there. “It shows how well you can think on your feet, literally. It is an aptitude you will need to be proficient in if you want to become an Associate like myself.”
“Associate?” Elijah blinked a few times out of confusion, knowing that he had applied to work as an intern in the financial department. Although he was a few inches taller than the young man, he was having a little difficulty catching up, causing him to fall in and out of the conversation.
“Indeed,” the man misinterpreted the question. “I was recently put in charge of development acquisitions and advanced from Junior Associate to an Associate. Fascinating, is it not?”
“Sure.”
The two strolled a little further out of the city, moving away from the busy center where the Carmichael Corporation headquarters stood. They came upon streets a little emptier then before until they finally turned into an old park. It was actually quite beautiful, covered in old knotty trees and overgrown plants. Birds were constantly chirping and squirrels chased after each other like there was no tomorrow. It was also littered in large stones, adding an oddly picturesque feel to it. Elijah was surprised that he had lived in the city for so long and had never once been to this place.
After a while more of walking, the man led them to an old picnic table before turning around and offering a large, rough hand. Confused, Elijah accepted it and the grip practically shattered his bones. Elijah had kept his body fit since his high school basketball days, so he was surprised to feel such a sheer strength in the young man’s shake.
“My name is Keating Eckley Whitlyn, Jr.,” the young man stated before placing his briefcase down and taking a seat at the table. “Our interview should not extend too lengthily, as I have some imperative work to attend to after this.”
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“What would that be?” Elijah asked earnestly, his jovial tone a major contrast to Keating’s flat, molasses-like demeanor. At 6’7, it was fairly difficult for him to get his skinny legs under the table, but he managed.
“I have been assigned to a downtown acquisition project, a potential development on 520 Porter where we need to clear the lot.”
“Huh, okay,” Elijah strangely got interested. “So what is it that you are removing?”
“Currently the future site of the Carmichael Settlement on Porter is occupied by this park we are lounging in right now.”
“This park?” Elijah was surprised. “But it’s stunning! There’s so much life and nature here. You wanna tear it down?”
“It is an eyesore and it occupies a lot with high economic potential.  It is better suited for development.”
“How could you be such a soulless jerk?” Elijah scolded, getting angrier faster than he had anticipated. He began caring less and less about the job and more about his own morality. Sure, Elijah got how important money was, but he didn’t think he would be able to live with the guilt of destroying an animal’s habitat, let alone an entire population’s. “Don’t you understand what you would be doing? The impact this will have?”
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“I’m offended by your tone.” Even after being insulted, Keating’s voice still sounded low, slow, and empty. His eyes however seemed to flare up before he continued. “And yes, I understand exactly the impact this will have. It will create a serviceable, profitable property for the Carmichael Corporation, which in turn will compensate me with enough money to survive. That is what any respectable man like you and I would desire.”
“Survive?” Elijah mocked, now getting extremely annoyed that Keating had compared the two of them. 
“Obviously.” Keating wasn’t defending himself, but instead explaining what he thought was a common fact. “I just bought a house out in Fenwick, the only neighborhood in this squalid city with expansive acreage, tree-shaded streets, and good schools. It is very difficult to purchase a home in that neighborhood, especially one with the seven bedrooms, four floors, and private tennis court I required. Plus, I’m working on my country club application. The application fee alone is $50,000. Looking over your records earlier, I had gathered that was something you desired as well, correct?”
“Yes, that is true.” The idea was buried inside Elijah’s mind. Far from feeling like a fresh fantasy, it was embedded deep, as though it had always been there, as though he’d always wanted to buy a giant mansion in a gated neighborhood with an expensive country club. It was always the goal to move out to Fenwick for corporate shark Elijah.
“I am relieved that that is settled.” Keating opened his briefcase to reveal a combination of different documents, papers, and a massive book that Elijah couldn’t believe fit in the bag. Keating proceeded to pull it out and flipped open to a page somewhere in the middle.
“To become an Associate, you will first be assigned underneath me as a Junior before moving up the ladder. You will still make a good deal of money however, so do not feel too unsettled. Do you understand?” 
Although they were maintaining a shared gaze, Keating was not able to read the confusion on Elijah’s face.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s correct.” Elijah was here for a position in the financial department, not to be an Associate, so he was embarrassed to point out the error that Keating had made. Not embarrassed enough however to not correct him.
“As a Junior Associate, you’d start with a baseline of 100 plus three percent commission with incentives quarterly based on goals and projects,” Keating answered, once again misreading. “I believe that will be appropriate compensation, am I accurate?”
“Yes, indeed you are,” Elijah replied cheerfully, glad that the issue was all cleared up. He had wanted to start as an Associate right away as he was worried it the Junior position wouldn’t give him the pay he had hoped for, but apparently it wasn’t that far below. Plus, if he did well, he could quickly move up like Keating had.
“Your job will require calls, lots of calls,” Keating droned, his piercing eyes drilling right into Elijah’s. “Calls to landowners, historical groups, insurance companies, auctioneers, all with their own opinions and interests. A few calls will be less productive, with upset protestors yelling at you about our improvement upon the lot. You will have to decelerate your speech to command attention better.  Be direct and contain emotions. You will be better suited to appear calm and in control at all times. There is no need to ever appear energetic or excited.”
The hurling of information confused Elijah. “So you are saying I shouldn’t care about the clients?”
“Yes,” Keating confirmed. “You can try being sympathetic, but you will quickly find that being stern and direct will get them off the line quicker so you can return to work. Based off of what I have already perceived, this will not be a hindrance.”
“Thank you.” Elijah found himself mimicking Keating’s voice: deep, dull, and disinterested.
“There are many perks of the job, including a corporate gym on the fifth floor which I highly recommend you use.” After investigating Elijah’s long, fit body, Keating brought his eyes back to Elijah’s own. “We expect every man to have a sense of presence at the Carmichael Corporation. Currently, you are far from meeting those standards.”
“What do you mean by that?” Elijah responded. It was hard for a man of his height to keep a healthy weight. A high metabolism meant he was always fairly skinny, but he didn’t expect it would be such a problem.
“The gym is a good source of weight training,” Keating continued, ignoring the question. “I personally workout an hour before work each day and one hour afterwards. You will be expected to maintain a similar routine. It appears however that you already understand the importance of presence, but if you are interested in a tour of the corporate gym I would not be affronted.”
“Thank you, I would be very fond of that.” Elijah smiled politely after his reply, moving his legs a little under the picnic table. At 6’3, it was a little difficult for him to keep his well-defined legs under the table, but he managed. Although he’d left golf after college (and hoped to get back into it with his admission into the country club) Elijah had made sure to keep his body in excellent shape by working out almost everyday. His proof could be seen through the skin-tight quarter-zip sweater and the black khaki’s that hugged his meaty quads and calves.
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“At the Carmichael Corporation, we do have a dress code, but it is reasonably undemanding.” Keating turned the manual around to show Elijah. The page that Keating had flipped to displayed a model covered head to toe in a full, very dapper yet very posh suit. Elijah’s eyes fluttered quickly before looking back to Keating for confirmation.
“‘Reasonably undemanding’?”
“I would say so. A suit works as the foundation of a man’s future in business.” Keating closed the handbook and placed it back into his briefcase. Elijah could have sworn a tiny smile crept onto the corners of Keating’s mouth during the action. “I appreciate that you have already generated this knowledge.”
“I’m glad you noticed,” Elijah flourished, his voice still plodding. Elijah had made sure to pick out an outfit that had shown off all of his best features. First, a drab, beige, perfectly-cut jacket with matching pleated pants, accompanied by a striped salmon button-up that contrasted well against his pale skin. He had matched his coffee-colored tie to similar shaded Size 13 tassel loafers and a pair of bronze supports that were hidden expertly beneath his coat. Finally, he had styled his blond hair into a fashionable ivy-league cut, making sure to also get a fresh shave earlier that morning. Just the thought of himself in the outfit made him perk up inside his white briefs, bringing his dick to a 6.5-inch mast.
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“There are only a few more things we must address, one being your character and ethics.”
“What is it the company expects?” Elijah asked.
“You must understand,” Keating glared. “the Carmichael Corporation expects every man to share the same morale system. We want a unified front; a collective conscience per say.”
“Alright,” Elijah accepted. “What are these shared values?”
“There are the equitable ideals like marrying a woman of the same class, having an abundance of children, and being a member of good standing at multiple prestigious clubs.”
Elijah sighed to himself quietly while still maintaining eye contact, disappointed in these old-fashioned beliefs.
“At the Carmichael Corporation, we also have intimate objectives that stand high above the others. You must want to move upwards on the corporate ladder. You must want to fully commit yourself to your work. You must want to embody everything a man should be: big, strong, soon to be rich. You must want to be every title a man should own: sportsman, fraternity brother, and avaricious. You want money, do you not?”
“Yes,” Elijah confirmed deliberately. “I want money.” This brought a greedy sneer spread to Keating’s face. Elijah felt like a low, deep, and great truth had awoke inside him. Luckily, the Carmichael Corporation’s principles had aligned perfectly to his own.
“Very good.” Keating eyes also seemed to grin wildly. “Now, two imperative adjustments I would personally like to make. The first is your name.”
“My name?” Elijah opposed.
“Yes, you will need something stronger, more outdated to establish yourself as a man of the Carmichael Corporation. Is that not true?”
“Yes, I do believe that to be true,” Elijah suddenly affirmed. “Please tell me what you think my name should be.”
“Your name is not the only dilemma however, but also your nationality,” Keating resumed. “I believe a British origin would give you a brilliant presence. More mannerful, much more respectable, and it would help establish you as a leading man. Plus, a legacy will give you generational value. What do you think?”
“I-”
“But,” Keating cut off before Elijah could even attempt to reply. “I should not be bashful in saying that you already represent all those factors. Care to agree, Emerson Foley Gillingham-Smyth?”
“Most certainly,” Emerson acknowledged accordingly in a pretentious accent. He was a diligent, hard-working, and prosperous Brit, and those were only the first words that came to his head. Some may have called him smug and arrogant, but he was really just confident and self-assured. He resembled the epitome of a real man, as displayed by his stunning suit that contrasted his tanned skin eloquently. His dark, chestnut hair and beard also gave off a shocking amount of masculinity. Just the thought of himself and his own superiority made him perk up inside his white briefs, bringing his dick to a 9-inch mast. He was by no means a repulsive sodomite, but he could admit a handsome man when he saw one. And he was a handsome man.
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“So what do you convey, Keating Eckley Whitlyn, Jr.?” Emerson began, taking a stand with his Size 15 feet planted firmly beneath him. “Do you believe I could become a Junior Associate at the Carmichael Corporation.”
“By all means,” Keating replied, getting up and extending a hand forward. “You’ll be a fashionable fit.” They gave a single sturdy shake before finishing their business. While heading towards the exit, they held a light conversation about stocks, each having grabbed a business edition of the Times along the way. 
Gripping the paper tightly as they drifted away from the park, Emerson felt almost restless. The idea of stripping away that atrocity of a park to add in a new, profitable site was so thrilling it was mildly arousing. After his success here, Emerson knew he would receive a promotion, which pleased him mightily. Making their way across a boulevard, Emerson watched the Carmichael Corporation’s headquarters come into view, the place where he knew he would accomplish everything he desired.
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thechy-fychannel · 14 days
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I try not to get hung up on timelines but I swear Wilson's timeline makes no damn sense to me 😭 I don't believe we are ever given a precise birth date for him, so assuming he's about the same age as his actor (who already looked incredibly young for his age) he would've had to be a child prodigy as well for the timeline to make sense.
RSL was born in 1969, so we'll use that year for Wilson too bc I just cannot imagine him being any older than that. He was 35 when the show aired and could've easily passed for his 20s. Aging him up more than 35 feels incredibly unrealistic with how young he looked.
Being born in 1969 means he likely graduated high school in 1987ish. Four years of undergraduate school already puts him at 1991 before he even starts med school. Another 4 years in med school puts him at 1995, 3 years after he meets House. And that doesn't even include his residency years after he graduated.
But wasn't Wilson already a doctor when they met? He said him and Sam split because he was working two jobs while doing his residency in order to put her through med school. So we can extrapolate that when he met House, he had graduated but was still going through his residency in 1992.
For shits and giggles, let's say he graduated as a prodigy at 16 in 1985, 4 yrs of undergrad- 1989, and let's say he did the accelerated program that allowed him to graduate med school in 3 years, 1992. That would make sense if Wilson had only just started his residency when he met House. But according to his lore, he must've been doing his residency for a while in order for it to affect his marriage so much that they divorced. They'd already been split up for a while before he was served divorce papers.
Even if that timeline makes a little more sense, what doesn't make sense is that he would've finished his residency between 1995 and 1998 (even later if he didn't graduate early) and then sometime between then and before the show aired, he became the HEAD of the oncology department. I'm pretty sure he had been department head for a while before the show aired, but even if he'd only been promoted to department head just before the show started, that means he was made department head 5-9 years after finishing his residency. I don't know how ranking in a hospital works, but less than a decade out of his residency feels like a very short amount of time to become head of a huge department in a big teaching hospital— one of the best in the country.
I guess the solution that makes the most sense is to consider him to be closer to 40 at the beginning of the show, but you cannot look at that young sweet face in s1 and tell me that man is anywhere close to 40. He doesn't even start looking close to 40 until s6 imo.
Anyways, feel free to ignore this. This is just what runs through my head while I'm pretending to be busy at work.
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user211201 · 5 months
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The Interviews
--- Originally posted on 2021-02-07 by dumb-and-jocked. ---
“Can you guys believe we actually made it?” Elijah exclaimed proudly. Even as the tallest of the trio at 6’7, he had to arch his back to see the top of the skyscraper in front of him. Elijah had worked hard to get his degree in business, so the prospect in front of him made him feel like he was touching the finish line. He had applied for an interning position in the financial department, and the company had been so impressed with his application that they had set up an interview immediately.
“I will admit, it is pretty incredible,” Dylan added. He was in the middle of the three, having a little over average height at 5’11 and pretty good muscular tone. What really stood out about him though was his voice, for it was a powerful bass that could shake concrete walls and was completely recognizable at any event. He too had applied for an interning position in the financial department, creating a little friendly rivalry between the two.
“I’m still surprised we all made it.” Although Joe was almost a foot shorter than the giant Elijah at 5’7, he made up for his height in sheer body mass. Back in college, he had been the star wrestler of the college, giving him a body packed with pure strength and flesh. One wouldn’t be able to guess it, but Joe was also skilled in another area: accounting. He was so talented in fact that he had actually been scouted out by the company.
“I guess we should head in,” Elijah stated, making his way forward slowly. “If we actually want to work at the Carmichael Corporation, we’ll have to ace these interviews.”
“Oh yeah, like that’ll be hard,” Dylan jeered as he walked through a set of grand swinging doors. “My record is pretty well stacked. I think I have the best chance out of the three of us for this position.”
“Dude, I’m going for accounting.” Joe gave a rough eye roll, before walking off to notify the secretary of their presence.
“And like I have any competition,” Elijah scoffed as Dylan and himself took a seat on a nearby bench. “Once they see that my name was on the Dean’s List every semester, I’ll get in for sure.”
“You only got that because you were the captain of the basketball team,” Dylan mocked.
“Did not,” Elijah hurled back.
“Did too!” Dylan retorted.
“You understand that I actually worked for those grades, right?” Elijah felt himself get heated as his muscles grew tense.
“Oh you worked for them alright,” Dylan mumbled. “On your knees.”
“Excuse me, bro?!”
“You heard what I said, coc-”
“Gentlemen!”
A sharply dressed male was staring down at the two bickering companions. The man was furiously tapping a pen against his clipboard, obviously irritated. Standing tall in front of the two, he was wrapped up in a gray 3-piece suit with a checkered tie that fit well against his sculpted body. His face showed that although he acted superior, he had to be a similar age to the two young men cowering below him.
“My name is Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV, and I am one of the Accounting Managers here at the Carmichael Corporation,” he began pompously, effortlessly taking control of the situation. “If you want to work here at the Carmichael Corporation, the first concept you must learn is respect and decency to and in the workplace.”
“Sorry,” Dylan and Elijah replied in unison, deeply embarrassed and annoyed by the stuck-up prick.
“Now, I assume I will be performing one of your interviews today,” Yale took a moment to look at his clipboard. “Is one of you Joseph Koroll?”
“That’s me.” Joe appeared from behind Yale, surprising the other man a little bit. After checking in, Joe had quickly run to the bathroom to wash his face, finding he had accidentally missed a few hairs when he had shaved this morning. Not noticeable, just a little itchy.
“Exemplary,” Yale responded, causing Joe to give the other two looks that said What’s with this guy?
“Let us make our way to a correspondent room, we have a lot to cover in little time.” Before Joe could comprehend what Yale had said, the other man was already walking towards an elevator. Joe quickly scurried along, waving to his pals before he was lifted up.
“How do you think he’ll do?” Dylan pondered.
“Better than the two of us so far,” Elijah pouted.
— —
“Joseph Koroll.”
“Yes?”
Yale sat straight at his desk, constantly giving off an ill-tempered glare as he peered back and forth between Joe and Joe’s resumé. What made it even more intense was that Yale’s eyes had an oddly captivating color to them. The two sat in a small conference room on the 15th floor overlooking a part of the city below. Joe didn’t feel that nervous–he actually felt quite confident–but the giant yellow chair he sat in made him seem much smaller than he actually was. Even for his muscular figure, he barely filled half the seat, and his head did not make it anywhere near the top. Not only that, but the chair was placed in the center of the room, giving him more attention than he needed.
“I despise that I must admit it,” Yale sighed. “but your experience and credentials are rather splendid.”
“Thank you?” Joe replied back, a little confused.
“If you want to be a part of the Carmichael Corporation however, there are some aspects that must be changed or enhanced.”
“I understand.”
“The Carmichael Corporation is not some urban start-up with jeans and herbal teas. This is a very demanding industry, one that expects all employees to be obedient and loyal.”
“Of course,” Joe nodded along. “That would make sense.”
“I do not know or care what went on at your last position, but if you want to succeed in this company, it is imperative that orders from a superior be followed. Would you be okay with this level of obedience?”
“Yes sir.” Joe slyly added in the title, sensing he had to accept a power shift.
“That is more appropriate,” Yale smiled. “Now, let us first address the things that need to be changed to be hired. Your attire is the most noticeable facet, as it is unsightly to say in the kindest of terms.”
“Unsightly?” Joe was surprised, finding his red sweater and black slacks quite refined before making eye contact with Yale.
“And that is the kindest of words,” Yale snickered back. “If you want to succeed, you will need to learn how to dress like a man. Let me read you a small excerpt from the company handbook.”
Yale stuck a hand into his bag and pulled out the largest book Joe had ever seen. It had to be at least 1000 pages, yet Yale had no trouble finding the exact description he was looking for.
“Blazers are classic items that work for semi-formal occasions and casual office places. Even as a man transitions to daily suits, a blazer will always have a place at a garden party or fraternity alumni event. Ties and bowties are a delightful way to add color to an outfit. Business attire defaults to long ties, and more conservative workplaces require more conservative choices. Consider emulating the attire of your superiors.”
Yale continued, “Supports should be practical and supportive. Belts are fine for casual outings; however, braces are more desirable for suiting, both for support and style as it allows a more traditional and flattering cut. Similarly, undergarments should provide support and coverage. Briefs are the most appropriate underwear choice, as it provides support without being extraneous. It is also compatible with tennis and golf; sports you will be expected to participate in and the only sports you will be allowed to play.”
Yale paused and took a deep breath. Once he had finished gathering himself, he looked over at Joe and gleamed with satisfaction. “I believe it is secure to say that you have already anticipated these particular needs of the company. Am I assuming correctly?”
“Yes sir,” Joe quickly replied. He had made sure to dress in one of his casual outfits today, something comfortable yet reputable. Along with a navy blazer that had been hung on the door, Joe had paired his classic navy polka-dotted tie with a blue button-up and wool dress pants. Sheer socks silently encased his Size 11 feet inside expensive-looking Oxfords, while two bright, yellow suspenders and a hefty watch worked as the statement pieces. He’d also made sure to shave his beard into a beautiful stubble, something that really made him seem both masculine and well-kept. Joe had originally been concerned that the look was a little too casual, but the fact that his superior had noticed it brought a smile to his lips.
“Superb,” Yale acknowledged. “If you are hired here, you will be expected to meet a certain standard of fitness.”
Yale once again examined Joe before meeting eyes, causing Joe to respond with a smug look.
“Interpreting what I have seen and read, I suspect you will be engaging in a routine similar to the one when you were in varsity golf?”
“Very similar, indeed.” Joe resituated himself in the chair, sitting a little straighter to truly show off his 6’1 height. His tight clothing did an impeccable job showcasing his muscular build, which wasn’t as massive as a bodybuilder’s but definitely imposing. He kicked up one of his Size 14 feet onto his knee, knowing he could now get a little more comfortable.
“You will also need to adapt to our image of masculinity, Joe. This is something that has an adjusting definition for everyone here at the Carmichael Corporation. Do you understand what I am referring to?”
“Not exactly, sir.”
“To explain further,” Yale eyes had a piercing gleam to them. “the duty of a man is to understand that when lacking in some areas of presence, he must identify other ways to consume the devoid territory. Men are meant to take up a certain amount of space, no matter their stature. This does seem appropriate, correct?”
“Yes sir.” Joe completely interpreted what Yale was referring to. It was only natural that some men had larger presences than others, so it was Joe’s duty to match that same standard. Readjusting in his seat once more, Joe felt his wide, plump bottom jiggling about, consuming the entirety of the extra wide seat. He bagged his pants as he sat, causing the crotch of his pants to ride up and give him a distinct moose knuckle. The fluid movement accidentally made him hard, but Joe knew no one would be able to see his 4 inches.
“Now, I believe the next issue is your tone and speech.” Yale pulled out his handbook once more and flipped to another random page.
“Our manual refers to multiple accessible forms of dialogue, but you will be working with men of all ages from assets and banking within accounting. Therefore, it would be best if you learned how to speak slower and adapt your vocabulary to something better cultivated.”
“Why would that help me exactly?” Joe questioned.
Yale, once again annoyed by Joe’s indecency, glared directly at him before explaining. “It will deepen your voice and give you more presence, which will be extremely helpful in business. You will also be able to use a fuller, more masculine tone–much like my own. I expect that is what you desire?”
“Yes sir.” The words spilled out in nearly double the time they had before. Joe’s tongue felt heavy as he spoke as every syllable seemed to require extra effort to spit out.
“Finally, if you aspire to work at the Carmichael Corporation, it is imperative that you adjust your title.” Yale moved along calmly, not at all caring about Joe’s confusion. “Joe is a very informal name. Lazy and lackadaisical. It sets you up casually in a professional world, agree with me?”
“I guess I don’t know…” Joe muttered, his voice sluggish and insensitive.
“In business, you know how important it is to give the right impression. The men in these industries expect a certain standard of professionality, even in your title. And you must give yourself every possible advantage.”
“Yes, of course sir,” Joe monotoned.
“Professionally, I think you should introduce yourself as your full name, John Millard Koroll.”
“I apologize for the inconvenience, but that is not-”
“And where is your surname from?” Yale interrupted. “Is it German?”
“No, it is most certainly-”
“Make it German. It will give you a much more asserting presence. And I reckon a suffix would add some competency as well. From now on, we shall refer to each other by our full names to emulate what the atmosphere is like here at the Carmichael Corporation.”
Joe was still at a loss over the last few comments. He was starting to feel a little panicked over the thought of losing his own identity to the corporate world, but before he could think any further on the topic, Yale stepped in.
“That will work for you, will it not,” Yale stood up from his chair and extended a hand, making sure to share a mutual gaze with Joe. “John Millard Koehler III?”
“By all means, Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV.” John Millard’s thick, slow voice drawled out. He got out of his own seat and shook Yale’s hand in a firm motion.
“Splendid!” Yale replied. “Then I can confidently declare that you are precisely what the Carmichael Corporation is scouting for. John Millard Koehler III, you will be starting as early as next week.”
“That is just grand!” John Millard responded cordially. “It is truly an honor, my gratitude, Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV.”
“The honor is all mine, you will be an illustrious addition to our department.” Yale sat back down in his chair and ushered John Millard to do the same. “Before I dismiss you, let us discuss acquisitions and the baseline salary. Here at the Carmichael Corporation, we want to make sure that you can ‘be audit you can be’.”
The two chortled merrily at the accounting joke before getting back to business, knowing they had a prosperous future ahead.
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— —
“It’s been almost an hour,” Elijah exhaled. “Shouldn’t Joe be done with his interview by now?” The two other men were still sitting on the same bench, waiting for anyone to come and greet them like Yale had appeared before. Countless businessmen had passed in front of them, but all of them seemed so eager to work that they didn’t recognize the recently-graduated college students.
“I don’t know,” Dylan replied honestly, twisting a lock of his curly mane within his fingers out of boredom. “I mean maybe this is the corporate world and everything takes a little longer than expected.” He then stretched to loosen up his joints, showcasing the body of a former running back for everyone to see.
“Yeah, but how many questions do they have to ask to see if Joe is a good fit or not?”
“Apparently a lot.” Dylan began swinging his legs back and forth like a child on a swing to entertain himself. The Size 13 canvas shoes went to and fro, hypnotizing him more than they should have. Elijah watched on too, somehow entertained by the small amount of movement.
“Ahem.”
The two young men quickly shot up off the bench, standing solid. In front of them was a brawny man between the pair’s heights. He looked to be somewhere around sixty, as displayed by his slicked-back salt-and-pepper hair, prominent jaw, and robust torso. His body was brilliantly exhibited in a multi-layered suit, one that displayed every shade from silver to slate.
“I assume the two of you are here for the hiring process, correct?”
The two men nodded their heads quickly.
“Very good.” The man made a quick glance at Dylan and motioned him to follow. Dylan did just that, giving a thumbs-up to Elijah before disappearing down a hall.
— —
“Dylan Pringle.”
“Yes… sir?”
Dylan watched a small smile creep onto the man’s lips after his little addition. There had been a few minutes of back and forth eye contact from Dylan’s resumé and Dylan himself, but he wasn’t feeling too apprehensive. Although the man seemed extremely uptight, Dylan knew there was nothing in his credentials that wouldn’t seem impressive. Plus, the man had already seemed to take a liking to Dylan, as he had been escorted to an expansive office that Dylan assumed had to be the man’s own. It was simply decorated with a few modern black-and-white pictures and two tables lined with retro leather chairs. There were also a few closets and coat racks holding different suits and other formal wear, probably owned by the man himself.
“I must inform you that the position you have applied for has already been filled.”
The sentence came as a shock to Dylan, causing him to twitch a little in his seat. Dylan was so perplexed that he had to examine the man’s eyes carefully to see if he was telling the truth. He was surprised to discover that they had an oddly charming hue.
“I would regard that as a godsend however, as you were not at all qualified for the position.”
“What do you mean?” Dylan’s bass tone became thundering. “I have everything the job requires… and more!”
“Surely you meant to say ‘Sorry Sir, is there another position open?’ as here I thought you were serious about working here at the Carmichael Corporation.”
Dylan was once again caught off-guard.
“Hmm, they told me you were more articulate.” The man made a disappointed grimace before moving on. “I was willing to offer you another position working under me rather than in the financial department as it seems you have no competence in the area. That is generous of me, is it not?”
“Yes, definitely sir.” Dylan was relieved that he still had a chance to work at the Carmichael Corporation, especially after applying for a job he never could have performed.
“Good.” The man walked over to a table and grabbed a rather large book. Dylan was able to catch a quick peek as the man passed by, noticing the pages were lined with questions and guides. Dylan hoped these weren’t all going to be used in the interview for the other position.
“There are a few things you will need to learn quickly if you expect to succeed in this business, do you understand?”
“Yes sir.” Dylan made sure to maintain eye contact to confirm his answer.
“Very good. First, we have a completely reasonable dress code here. I know you may not have expected to wear a suit every day, but it will be required. And by a suit, I expect a minimum of 3 layers in some shape or form.” Dylan cringed in his seat barely, knowing that his black turtleneck and jeans probably didn’t make the cut.
“Sir, are you-” Before Dylan could protest, the man pushed forward.
“I find a certain degree of conformity aids in office morale, is that not fair? I can tell by how you present yourself you also believe this to be true.”
“It is fair, sir.” Dylan agreed. He always made sure to wear multiple articles underneath his blazer, as it made him feel more polished. Even though he was forced to take off his tan blazer at the door, it had allowed him to expose the other garments on his body. These included matching tan pleated pants that graciously showed off his hefty pouch, a white button-up with matching white suspenders that strained heavily against his pecs, and a striped tie that shared the same charcoal color with his wing-tipped derbies. Readjusting his glasses, Dylan waited patiently for the man to continue.
“I believe it is also appropriate to have a strict haircut policy. Your hair is to be cut every two weeks, and I will refer you to my own barber. You will style it neatly and you will use whatever product I chose.”
“Sir, if I may interrupt.”
“No, you may not.” The man glared down on Dylan. “I expect to see comb lines so sharp that even from a mile away a man could tell you know how to use pomade. Understood?”
“Completely, sir.” Dylan felt like this task would be no problem, as he already maintained his hair strictly. Brushing a hand across his scalp, he was delighted to feel his sharp quiff still held stiffly in place with not a single hair sticking out. He also made sure to rub a hand across his jaw, feeling up the sculpted beard contemptuously.
“Now, you recognize that you would not be starting at the top, correct?”
“Yes sir.”
“Meaning that you would have a certain number of superiors, including myself, correct?”
“Yes sir.”
“So to clarify,” the man began, making sure that their eyes met so he could verify. “You would be an inferior male, underneath me and a plethora of other men.”
“Wait, that isn’t-” Dylan’s booming register was somehow once again cut off.
“You will need to present yourself to this position accordingly, but I believe it is fair to say that will not be an issue.”
“That is accurate, Sir,” Dylan replied reverently in a soft, creamy tenor. He understood where he was on the ladder, and how he’d have to act accordingly. Still sitting in his chair comfortably, the 5’7 man brought his legs closer together, allowing the sides of the Size 8 feet to touch. While doing so, Dylan felt his micropenis twitch eagerly inside his tight briefs, sending an excited reaction to the hole between his two jiggly, doughy buttocks.
“You will also be expected to attend to some other needs of mine,” Sir started. “Dry cleaning, note taking, errands, and the like.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“You will be loyal, you will be obedient, and you will be my dedicated servant.”
“Sir,” Dylan’s meek voice began. “What do you-”
“To work and succeed at the Carmichael Corporation,” Sir declared through fiery eyes. “it is imperative that orders from a superior be followed. Understood?”
“Yes Sir.” Dylan was willing to do just about anything that could give him an advantage in business; anything that would make his superiors pleased.
“So with that said,” Sir leaned back in his chair happily, dropping the handbook on the desk and crossing his arms across his chest. “If I were to ask you to, say, change your name, would you do that for me?”
“Yes Sir,” Dylan lied through his teeth. He was willing to do just about anything, but not that.
“Here at the Carmichael Corporation, we like to go by our full titles as they allude to more professional, defined statuses.”
“Absolutely, Sir.”
“Let’s first start with Dylan: just a gross, common name. You agree?”
Dylan didn’t, but the thought of a superior changing his name was suddenly tantalizing.
“Personally, I believe you would be more suited as a Dorrance. And for the surname, well,” Sir chuckled wickedly to himself. “Pringle was never an actual name, just a detrimental snack. You would be much better suited with Peabody. Classic, but preppy, which seems to be the direction you’re taking. Though I believe you should at least be a Junior.”
Before Dylan could fire back a string of arguments, Sir had ascended out of his throne and extended a strong palm.
“Congratulations, Dorrance Rotterham Peabody, Jr.,” Sir seemed very pleased with himself. “You will be a great fit as my new personal assistant.”
“Thank you immensely, Sir!” Dorrance replied, jumping out of his chair in excitement and eagerly shaking the man’s hand. “How soon may I begin to work under you?”
“Right away, boy.” Sir made sure to emphasize the demeaning word. “I have a few outfits I need you to sort through and approve of, as you know my taste quite exquisitely.”
“Of course, Sir.” Dorrance followed Sir to a table covered in sheets displaying different suits and styles. He immediately immersed himself into the work, separating out the preferable blacks, navys, and grays from the disgusting other palettes. This extremely pleased Sir, so much so that he wanted to reward Dorrance with something special. So, Sir gave Dorrance’s butt a big appreciation swat as he strutted away, causing Dorrance’s ample rump to shudder within his pants as he continued his work.
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— —
Elijah grimaced, noticing the time on the gigantic clock inside the main lobby had only moved by a minute. The wait had been a lot longer than he had expected, forcing him to cancel an event with friends and a hookup from Grindr. It had been about an hour since Dylan had been taken away to his interview, and almost 2 hours since Joe’s disappearance. He was concerned about what this meant for them, but he was becoming more concerned about what this could’ve possibly meant for himself. Maybe he didn’t have a chance within the Carmichael Corporation. Elijah was beginning to feel as if the employers had completely forgotten him when a young man magically appeared before him, answering his plea.
The man wore a tight fitting suit, seemingly strained at both the broad shoulders and around the crotch. It was exceptionally subdued, a rather pale black color with a white button-up shirt and a gray tie with a subtle windowpane pattern. He carried a briefcase that looked both rather expensive and rather ordinary. The young man stood ramrod straight, his muscular build hidden by the extremely high rise of his pants, sitting above his belly button just under the rib cage. His powerful jaw–while covered in a little youthful baby fat–spread wide and hung low, giving his face a square, lantern shape.
“Elijah Grove.”
“Yes?”
“I assume you are the last respondent today?” His voice was slow and deep, catching Elijah off guard.
“I guess?”
“Do you guess or do you know?” The young man seemed to get rather disgusted by Elijah’s uncertainty. “If you expect to succeed at the Carmichael Corporation, you are going to have to know.”
“I-” Elijah was almost sure he saw the young man’s eyes flash dazzlingly as he began. “I know I am the last respondent, yes.”
“Grand.” The man ushered Elijah to get up and tread closely behind. Following quickly, Elijah was surprised to see that they were leaving the building.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Elijah chose his words carefully. “Where are we going?”
“I am fond of conducting my interviews over promenades,” the young man replied. They steered their way around crowds of businessmen as they ventured into the streets, making random turns here and there. “It shows how well you can think on your feet, literally. It is an aptitude you will need to be proficient in if you want to become an Associate like myself.”
“Associate?” Elijah blinked a few times out of confusion, knowing that he had applied to work as an intern in the financial department. Although he was a few inches taller than the young man, he was having a little difficulty catching up, causing him to fall in and out of the conversation.
“Indeed,” the man misinterpreted the question. “I was recently put in charge of development acquisitions and advanced from Junior Associate to an Associate. Fascinating, is it not?”
“Sure.”
The two strolled a little further out of the city, moving away from the busy center where the Carmichael Corporation headquarters stood. They came upon streets a little emptier then before until they finally turned into an old park. It was actually quite beautiful, covered in old knotty trees and overgrown plants. Birds were constantly chirping and squirrels chased after each other like there was no tomorrow. It was also littered in large stones, adding an oddly picturesque feel to it. Elijah was surprised that he had lived in the city for so long and had never once been to this place.
After a while more of walking, the man led them to an old picnic table before turning around and offering a large, rough hand. Confused, Elijah accepted it and the grip practically shattered his bones. Elijah had kept his body fit since his high school basketball days, so he was surprised to feel such a sheer strength in the young man’s shake.
“My name is Keating Eckley Whitlyn, Jr.,” the young man stated before placing his briefcase down and taking a seat at the table. “Our interview should not extend too lengthily, as I have some imperative work to attend to after this.”
“What would that be?” Elijah asked earnestly, his jovial tone a major contrast to Keating’s flat, molasses-like demeanor. At 6’7, it was fairly difficult for him to get his skinny legs under the table, but he managed.
“I have been assigned to a downtown acquisition project, a potential development on 520 Porter where we need to clear the lot.”
“Huh, okay,” Elijah strangely got interested. “So what is it that you are removing?”
“Currently the future site of the Carmichael Settlement on Porter is occupied by this park we are lounging in right now.”
“This park?” Elijah was surprised. “But it’s stunning! There’s so much life and nature here. You wanna tear it down?”
“It is an eyesore and it occupies a lot with high economic potential. It is better suited for development.”
“How could you be such a soulless jerk?” Elijah scolded, getting angrier faster than he had anticipated. He began caring less and less about the job and more about his own morality. Sure, Elijah got how important money was, but he didn’t think he would be able to live with the guilt of destroying an animal’s habitat, let alone an entire population’s. “Don’t you understand what you would be doing? The impact this will have?”
“I’m offended by your tone.” Even after being insulted, Keating’s voice still sounded low, slow, and empty. His eyes however seemed to flare up before he continued. “And yes, I understand exactly the impact this will have. It will create a serviceable, profitable property for the Carmichael Corporation, which in turn will compensate me with enough money to survive. That is what any respectable man like you and I would desire.”
“Survive?” Elijah mocked, now getting extremely annoyed that Keating had compared the two of them.
“Obviously.” Keating wasn’t defending himself, but instead explaining what he thought was a common fact. “I just bought a house out in Fenwick, the only neighborhood in this squalid city with expansive acreage, tree-shaded streets, and good schools. It is very difficult to purchase a home in that neighborhood, especially one with the seven bedrooms, four floors, and private tennis court I required. Plus, I’m working on my country club application. The application fee alone is $50,000. Looking over your records earlier, I had gathered that was something you desired as well, correct?”
“Yes, that is true.” The idea was buried inside Elijah’s mind. Far from feeling like a fresh fantasy, it was embedded deep, as though it had always been there, as though he’d always wanted to buy a giant mansion in a gated neighborhood with an expensive country club. It was always the goal to move out to Fenwick for corporate shark Elijah.
“I am relieved that that is settled.” Keating opened his briefcase to reveal a combination of different documents, papers, and a massive book that Elijah couldn’t believe fit in the bag. Keating proceeded to pull it out and flipped open to a page somewhere in the middle.
“To become an Associate, you will first be assigned underneath me as a Junior before moving up the ladder. You will still make a good deal of money however, so do not feel too unsettled. Do you understand?”
Although they were maintaining a shared gaze, Keating was not able to read the confusion on Elijah’s face.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s correct.” Elijah was here for a position in the financial department, not to be an Associate, so he was embarrassed to point out the error that Keating had made. Not embarrassed enough however to not correct him.
“As a Junior Associate, you’d start with a baseline of 100 plus three percent commission with incentives quarterly based on goals and projects,” Keating answered, once again misreading. “I believe that will be appropriate compensation, am I accurate?”
“Yes, indeed you are,” Elijah replied cheerfully, glad that the issue was all cleared up. He had wanted to start as an Associate right away as he was worried it the Junior position wouldn’t give him the pay he had hoped for, but apparently it wasn’t that far below. Plus, if he did well, he could quickly move up like Keating had.
“Your job will require calls, lots of calls,” Keating droned, his piercing eyes drilling right into Elijah’s. “Calls to landowners, historical groups, insurance companies, auctioneers, all with their own opinions and interests. A few calls will be less productive, with upset protestors yelling at you about our improvement upon the lot. You will have to decelerate your speech to command attention better. Be direct and contain emotions. You will be better suited to appear calm and in control at all times. There is no need to ever appear energetic or excited.”
The hurling of information confused Elijah. “So you are saying I shouldn’t care about the clients?”
“Yes,” Keating confirmed. “You can try being sympathetic, but you will quickly find that being stern and direct will get them off the line quicker so you can return to work. Based off of what I have already perceived, this will not be a hindrance.”
“Thank you.” Elijah found himself mimicking Keating’s voice: deep, dull, and disinterested.
“There are many perks of the job, including a corporate gym on the fifth floor which I highly recommend you use.” After investigating Elijah’s long, fit body, Keating brought his eyes back to Elijah’s own. “We expect every man to have a sense of presence at the Carmichael Corporation. Currently, you are far from meeting those standards.”
“What do you mean by that?” Elijah responded. It was hard for a man of his height to keep a healthy weight. A high metabolism meant he was always fairly skinny, but he didn’t expect it would be such a problem.
“The gym is a good source of weight training,” Keating continued, ignoring the question. “I personally workout an hour before work each day and one hour afterwards. You will be expected to maintain a similar routine. It appears however that you already understand the importance of presence, but if you are interested in a tour of the corporate gym I would not be affronted.”
“Thank you, I would be very fond of that.” Elijah smiled politely after his reply, moving his legs a little under the picnic table. At 6’3, it was a little difficult for him to keep his well-defined legs under the table, but he managed. Although he’d left golf after college (and hoped to get back into it with his admission into the country club) Elijah had made sure to keep his body in excellent shape by working out almost everyday. His proof could be seen through the skin-tight quarter-zip sweater and the black khaki’s that hugged his meaty quads and calves.
“At the Carmichael Corporation, we do have a dress code, but it is reasonably undemanding.” Keating turned the manual around to show Elijah. The page that Keating had flipped to displayed a model covered head to toe in a full, very dapper yet very posh suit. Elijah’s eyes fluttered quickly before looking back to Keating for confirmation.
“‘Reasonably undemanding’?”
“I would say so. A suit works as the foundation of a man’s future in business.” Keating closed the handbook and placed it back into his briefcase. Elijah could have sworn a tiny smile crept onto the corners of Keating’s mouth during the action. “I appreciate that you have already generated this knowledge.”
“I’m glad you noticed,” Elijah flourished, his voice still plodding. Elijah had made sure to pick out an outfit that had shown off all of his best features. First, a drab, beige, perfectly-cut jacket with matching pleated pants, accompanied by a striped salmon button-up that contrasted well against his pale skin. He had matched his coffee-colored tie to similar shaded Size 13 tassel loafers and a pair of bronze supports that were hidden expertly beneath his coat. Finally, he had styled his blond hair into a fashionable ivy-league cut, making sure to also get a fresh shave earlier that morning. Just the thought of himself in the outfit made him perk up inside his white briefs, bringing his dick to a 6.5-inch mast.
“There are only a few more things we must address, one being your character and ethics.”
“What is it the company expects?” Elijah asked.
“You must understand,” Keating glared. “the Carmichael Corporation expects every man to share the same morale system. We want a unified front; a collective conscience per say.”
“Alright,” Elijah accepted. “What are these shared values?”
“There are the equitable ideals like marrying a woman of the same class, having an abundance of children, and being a member of good standing at multiple prestigious clubs.”
Elijah sighed to himself quietly while still maintaining eye contact, disappointed in these old-fashioned beliefs.
“At the Carmichael Corporation, we also have intimate objectives that stand high above the others. You must want to move upwards on the corporate ladder. You must want to fully commit yourself to your work. You must want to embody everything a man should be: big, strong, soon to be rich. You must want to be every title a man should own: sportsman, fraternity brother, and avaricious. You want money, do you not?”
“Yes,” Elijah confirmed deliberately. “I want money.” This brought a greedy sneer spread to Keating’s face. Elijah felt like a low, deep, and great truth had awoke inside him. Luckily, the Carmichael Corporation’s principles had aligned perfectly to his own.
“Very good.” Keating eyes also seemed to grin wildly. “Now, two imperative adjustments I would personally like to make. The first is your name.”
“My name?” Elijah opposed.
“Yes, you will need something stronger, more outdated to establish yourself as a man of the Carmichael Corporation. Is that not true?”
“Yes, I do believe that to be true,” Elijah suddenly affirmed. “Please tell me what you think my name should be.”
“Your name is not the only dilemma however, but also your nationality,” Keating resumed. “I believe a British origin would give you a brilliant presence. More mannerful, much more respectable, and it would help establish you as a leading man. Plus, a legacy will give you generational value. What do you think?”
“I-”
“But,” Keating cut off before Elijah could even attempt to reply. “I should not be bashful in saying that you already represent all those factors. Care to agree, Emerson Foley Gillingham-Smyth?”
“Most certainly,” Emerson acknowledged accordingly in a pretentious accent. He was a diligent, hard-working, and prosperous Brit, and those were only the first words that came to his head. Some may have called him smug and arrogant, but he was really just confident and self-assured. He resembled the epitome of a real man, as displayed by his stunning suit that contrasted his tanned skin eloquently. His dark, chestnut hair and beard also gave off a shocking amount of masculinity. Just the thought of himself and his own superiority made him perk up inside his white briefs, bringing his dick to a 9-inch mast. He was by no means a repulsive sodomite, but he could admit a handsome man when he saw one. And he was a handsome man.
“So what do you convey, Keating Eckley Whitlyn, Jr.?” Emerson began, taking a stand with his Size 15 feet planted firmly beneath him. “Do you believe I could become a Junior Associate at the Carmichael Corporation.”
“By all means,” Keating replied, getting up and extending a hand forward. “You’ll be a fashionable fit.” They gave a single sturdy shake before finishing their business. While heading towards the exit, they held a light conversation about stocks, each having grabbed a business edition of the Times along the way.
Gripping the paper tightly as they drifted away from the park, Emerson felt almost restless. The idea of stripping away that atrocity of a park to add in a new, profitable site was so thrilling it was mildly arousing. After his success here, Emerson knew he would receive a promotion, which pleased him mightily. Making their way across a boulevard, Emerson watched the Carmichael Corporation’s headquarters come into view, the place where he knew he would accomplish everything he desired.
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lucianalight · 10 days
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This is something my friend and I were discussing, but since neither of us watched the show and we just watched Ruth's clips because we love her 😅 I figured I would ask you.
How does Night Nurse's employment work in this universe? Is she a slave to Tamlyn Tomita's character? If she, at the end, said she didn't want to stay with the boys on Earth, would she get to make that choice?
As always this answer turned out longer that I expected🤦🏻😅 so TLDR; it's not clear how the employment works but the Night Nurse has to follow her superior's orders. Whether she can make her own choices depends on her origins and how Afterlife works but we don't have a definitive answer for either one of these questions yet. And I haven't read the comics so what I wrote are mostly speculations based on The Sandman and dbd TV shows.
Here's the long answer:
It is not clear how exactly Afterlife works. I would have said it's under Death of the Endless' supervision but the whole strict, bureaucratic theme of the office doesn't really match her vibes. It's clear that the people there, despite their power, do not have the freedom to do what they want. For example to get permission to go to Earth the Night Nurse had to have a specific location of the ghosts she wanted to retrieve. But does she have free will to disobey her orders? To answer this I have to make a detour first.
The Night Nurse works in the Lost and Found Department and her superior-Tamlyn Tomita's character-who is said to be very busy and has the number "002" on her office's door is in fact Niko. Niko was infected by dandelion sprites and was saved by dead boy detectives. As a result of her near death experience she could see the ghosts and became the dbd's friend. She had died just a few days ago protecting them.
So this powerful entity who according to her, could do anything she wanted was human once. The curious thing is that she didn't remember the boys, not until she saw her human name on their wall as one of the closed cases. So we can assume that all the other people in that department were also human once. A pair of twins that are mentioned as one of the closed cases can be further proof of that. The twins work under the Night Nurse could possibly be the same twins.
But why are these people working there? The Night Nurse mentions that death isn't an option available to her and technically she can live for eons. Maybe it is a place for the ones who can't actually find their afterlife? We see Niko dies but we never see her meeting Death or the blue light that comes with her. Instead we see Niko with the dandelion sprites in an igloo. This is probably the result of the polar bear lucky charm she had with her when she died but what that lucky charm did and why the sprites were there and how she aged or why she didn't remember the boys at first are all questions that we don't know the answer to.
All of this though can give of us some clues. Like wherever Niko went, time doesn't work the same and she could age. She somehow existed before she was born and died on Earth. So can the Night Nurse be one of the future cases the boys haven't helped yet? She has the ability to see people's traumas and when Crystal tries to see inside her head she sees a skeleton with lots baby hands inside her that terrifies her. I wouldn't be surprised if her human life is tied to sth traumatic involving children.
It is also interesting that one of her main interactions is with Kashi, someone in a terrible situation with no trauma, someone kind with no alterior motive that helps her sees and considers different ways to what is always been done. Free will and doing what one's like to do are also topics that are mentioned in relation to her character. So if there's a second season those are some of the themes that can be explored with her character.
But I think it also matters who the number one is Afterlife is. Dream of the Endless decided to give free will to his subjects. Whoever the number one is in Afterlife, is probably the one who has the last say in this.
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