#wait does a cv need to be true

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

on a job site and came across "policy contributor for the pvv" so here i go on my 73 yards mission to sabotage the radical right

[popcornforone]

The Interview

Part of the Attending Mr York Fan Fic Series

Master list

I just couldn’t put the Dave I created down. You got the last chapter in April of the original story but I actually finished writing it in March, & I missed him & the little world I created for them. So here I am back with my Stabby… ready for more fun.

Synopsis: You’ve applied for a housekeeper & Nanny job that you know you won’t get, but the perks & money were to tempting to not go for. So your shocked when your asked to come & be interviewed at the York residence, & meet the family who’s needs you will be attending.

Word count: 3200

Warnings: this is tame for me & Dave. Swearing & alcohol, pining, imagining what Dave might do to you, descriptions of oral sex are mentioned, along with blood, cuts, injuries & sick.This is the first time you come across Dave so it’s rather soft. However the rest of the series won’t be & as always DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING!

Thanks as always for the read people, all feedback is always welcome

Job interviews are never the easiest thing in the world, for a normal job. You never know if the vibe is going to click & if you will just get on, & be the person they are looking for. However this interview is one that you don’t think you will get, not in 100 years. You’re not really qualified for it but the perks that come with the job are most intriguing & you knew it was too good an opportunity to miss out on applying for. You were shocked when you got a phone call from them to say they wanted to speak to you. Obviously The Yorks have seen a quality in your cv that they think will suit this role.

Finding The York residency is easy. Considering what they want & how on the application they have described their lives, you thought they would have a much grander house in a much more affluent area. But here you are on a Wednesday afternoon, pulling up across their drive looking at this family home, which doesn’t look like it’s rather special but does seem homely from the outside. You make sure your hair is okay & that your outfit isn’t creased. You’ve worn a day dress but one that’s easy to move about in, if they tell you to go & interact with their kids. After all this is a job for a Nanny & House Keeper, surly whatever kids they have, must like you if your to get the job, not that you think you stand any chance of getting it at all.

You hear the doorbell echo across the house as you press it & wait patiently for someone to greet you, admiring the pot plants by the path. The front door opens & you are greeted by name “welcome, im Carol, we spoke on the phone last week, thank you for coming to listen to us” she says as she welcomes you in & you shake her hand. “My husband is just finishing a phone call but he will join us shortly, come with me to the kitchen, would you like water, tea or coffee?” Mrs York asks ushering you in & taking your coat. The house is homely but there’s no art on the wall, everything is very clean & white & in its right place. Clearly Mrs York likes this, it’s all very to the point & perfect. Until you get to the kitchen.

It’s a grand kitchen. A walk in pantry, an island counter with low lights hanging down, perfect for entertaining, a little kids play area a few steps down, a sofa & a round table which you can tell has been cleaned for this chat today. It’s too clean. This is clearly where their life happens & you suddenly feel very at home in this room. This is where memories are made for the Yorks. You watch as Carol makes you coffee & just have a nice chat about your drive & the weekend thats been & the next one to come.

“Sorry darling, you know how Daniels gets in the phone” a voice bellows from behind you which came from nowhere. It’s deep & sharp & you turn around to introduce yourself & shake his hand, but instead you almost drop your coffee cup. You’re frozen to the spot. You don’t believe in love at first sight, but you now think lust at first touch might be true. Large & broad, towering above you. His eyes dancing across you looking for any hit of weakness & vulnerability. His light blue shirt & dark pants are crisp, that belt buckle is polished & shoes so shiny you could see your face in them. Those eyes that are giving you the once over, are dark pools of delight. Rich caramels, taking in every inch of his prospective house keeper. Clean shaven as his large hand goes around his neck into this thick dark short hair. Those lips probably smile & seduce but the sternness in his face makes you think they haven’t smiled in a while. He has a mysterious aura around him, one of danger & to not get too close. But you can’t help it, the second his hand firmly shakes yours, you are his. It doesn’t matter his wife is standing next to you answering him back, you’re transfixed on her husband & you need to snap out of the trance quickly. “I’m Mr York… David York”

The next few minutes are a blur, watching this powerful man, who has somehow in all of 5 words, got all the power in the world over you. You’d do anything for this man, & you have only met him for a few minutes. The way he hold his mug, that chiseled jaw extending, the way he slurps his coffee. Seeing his lips kiss his wife’s cheek, you feel jealous. & that’s what makes you snap out of your trance, that & Carols voice asking you “come sit down deary, we can then go though your cv together.” You remember where you are & you join Mr & Mrs York at the circular table to discuss why you are even a candidates for this job. This does mean facing David & making eye contract as you answer his questions. Maybe you can just focus on Carol, not that you think you can actually concentrate on anything at all.

You take your seat ready for their questions. You look nervous but you can easily pass it on for interview nerves, not the fact that the man sitting opposite you is stunningly handsome & that you are wondering how good his plump lips would feel on your pussy, lapping away at your clit as you beg him for more. You need to remember why you are here, for an interview, not to gawp at your possible employer.

“So…” Carols starts with some pretty mundane questions about your back ground & education, all the old chestnuts from a classic interview. You answer them well & you see David roll his eyes a little at them. At question 5 he interjects.

“Why apply for this role?” He asks “clearly your into art, graphics & design, your cv screams it, why apply to be a house keeper?” He has a very good point & it throws you a little bit, but you have a prepared answer which probably isn’t one that they will appreciate but is honest.

“The job said beck & call but free time & support whenever it’s needed. Most normal jobs want a 8:30 to 6 that I apply for. Once you add a commute & eating in, that’s no home time. Here you have said weekends & yea there are early starts but you said support in whatever else I need. I’m sure that there will be days you just need me to pick your kids up & do dinner & some days when you need me to stay over, but I’m sure that when I’m not needed I would have the time to create some art, get my creative juices flowing again. I also think it would be good for your kids if you allowed them, to join me working on my art. A good creative outlet from them, let them find another type of inspiration.” David looks inquisitively at you looking you up & down “I know that wasn’t the answer you wanted, but I’m honest & im here to support you. I want to make sure that when I’m here, all you need to stress about is what’s going on in your own mind, not a grocery run or cooking pasta or running errands. I want you to stress about just your work & normal life like the rest of the world does” that’s when you see a small smirk across David’s face as you finish this statement with “I’m here for all your needs & to attend to you all”. His eyes dart across you not impressed just by your words but by your attitude & willingness.

“Art?” Carol chirps up before he can respond, he mouth & sentence hanging in mid air before he could even get the words out “that would be good for the kids for sure” she then talks about how she like minimal art but can’t find the right thing for the house to put up. A few more mundane questions happen before David then asks “Do you have first aid or life saving courses under your belt? Obviously with 2 small girls who you will meet another day, if we think you’re suitable, bumps & bruises happen all the time. You’re okay with looking after them if they cut themselves? you’re not going to freak out at a bit of sick or blood?” David is asking this because it’s part of the interview, but he knows it’s likely at some point you will find out what he does for a living. He’s an assassin, one of the best in the world, & he knows there maybe a day soon when he needs your help to stitch him up or take him to hospital.

“Yes I can do that, I have a friend who has fits, we as a group all make sure we stay up to date with as much as we can. I’m happy to take more courses if you need me too.” Is your reply. Firm & confident. You know it’s been a while since you’ve done a course in this but you still know what to do. Nothing your innocent king think, that an ice pack or a plaster can’t solve.

The interview starts to draw to a close & they start talking to you about your life in general. “Obviously there maybe a few days when we need you to stay over if you get this job to take the girls to nursery & school early if were not both back, or if you’ve stayed late” Carol implys “would that be okay? Are you comfortable with that? We have Cctv in every room so you will always be safe here without us”

“Yes Mrs York” your mind wonders why they have cctv but that’s a question for another day, not one when your trying to get a job “would my boyfriend be able to stay over, if I needed him too? It wouldn’t be something I would do until we were all completely comfortable with each other & you trust me & id let you meet him first” David raises an eyebrow when the word boyfriend is brought up “how serious is your boyfriend?” He asks “David!” Carol scoffs & playfully hits him “that’s none of your business” she say before he reply “if he’s a serious man in her life, I see there being no problem, stability means loyalty & trust, but if he’s just a fuck buddy then that raises more questions for me” you look a bit shocked. You’ve never been to an interview before where the interviewer has sworn let alone use the word fuck. He clearly is testing you to get a reaction from you. “I’ve been with him 18months” you reply calmly like you have done every question. “Harry & I have talked about moving in together soon, so that’s how loyal I am” David nods “well answered” he states writing the word not available on his own notes, which you don’t see.

The final question they ask you is if you have any questions for them at this stage. They have been clear throughout the interview that there would be a second interview with the girls on Sunday, if today went well to see how you get on with them & they have been very frank about what they expect from you. You sit there for a second & then ask something bold, which might mean you don’t get a call back for another day. “why interview me? You said yourself I’m not a house keeper or have nanny experience, why ask me?” Carol has a small chuckle & goes to answer but David buts in.

“We’ve interviewed 4 other people before you, all Nanny’s or house keeper, but none had any idea of what the real world is. We want our kids to have some of that in their lives & your CV was the next one on the pile. You have life experience & from what you’ve told us about you today, you have had some struggles in the past & you just bring across this soothing calm approach now we’ve met you, don’t you agree darling?” He asks his wife stroking her hand looking lovingly at her “yes dear” she says “we wanted to see what the rest of the world offered, not just those that fall into that bracket” you all just nod in agreement with each other. There is a very strong vibe & connection here & you think that maybe you do stand a chance, just as long as you connect with those girls. Or maybe you are just falling deeper for the talk dark & handsome man sitting opposite you. Each time those large rich brown eyes glance at you, you feel seen.

The Yorks then finish up & David looks at his phone. Carol shakes your hand & asks if you’re free at 3pm on Sunday to meet the girls & have early dinner with them, which you accept. You have a second interview in the bag. David nods. “I’ll walk her out honey, I need to make my way to the actual office” David says & you thank Carol, grab your coat & have David walk you out of the house. His hand pushes you forward touching the lower of your back. Not to low but enough to make you blush, but enough that to yourself it shows that this man has an effect on you. Thank god you are walking in front of him & he can’t see the true effect he has on you.

“I just want you to know…” David says as he locks the front door behind him & stands next to his car “that we’ve been looking for a house keeper for a while & a nanny more recently. Carol has hired some but most of them just aren’t what they say they are at the interview. You on the other hand, there’s something about you. Your normal & I think you will bring stability to our house & help influence our kids as they grow as well. I don’t tend to trust people, my line of work doesn’t allow me to, but there’s something I can see in you, that makes me know that I can trust you with my families & my own life.” He states.

“Wow Mr York” you’re a little stunned at that revelation “that means something that you’ve picked that up so quickly, thank you”

“Please it’s David, I actually prefer Dave but David or Mr York is fine” he says shuffling a bit. “I’m good at picking up on peoples strengths & weaknesses it’s part of the job I do, & from the last hour, the only weakness I see in you, is that you care too much & that’s what I need for my family” you blush as he says these words to you. No one’s ever said that a weakness of yours is what they need. This desirable man has a way of making you feel so much in so few words. He’s very to the point & direct. You can tell he’s a man who gets what he wants, no matter what.

A few awkward moments of silence happen between you before you both snap out of it. Daves been thinking about how well you’re going to look after his family. He finds you attractive & wonders how loyal & good your boyfriend really is to you & if he might, one day, be needed to pick up your emotional pieces should it all go wrong with him. “I should really get going now Mr York & you said you needed to get to your own office, so please don’t let me keep you” you offer you hand which he firmly shakes & through that connection of his large palm on your dainty hand, a small soft smile comes from his dark brown eyes. “Thank you for the opportunity” you say “ooh no the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart” he responds. That cute nickname makes you smile which he can see as bright as the sun. “I’m already looking forward to seeing you meet the girls on Sunday, im sure you will be the most attentive person we’ve had so far, I can just feel it in my bones.” He says, hands parting & you both sigh & get in your separate cars. You head home & Dave heads to the office.

1 week, later the phone rings while your out for lunch with friends. “Sorry guys, be back in 3minutes” you leave them & head to the bathroom of the cafe to take the call.

“Hello”

“Ahh it’s Mr York”

“Mr York… hi how are you?” Just his voice down the phone has you feeling flush & warm, how can he do that.

“I’m even better now, I’ve just hired a new house keeper”

Your face drops down the phone.

“It’s you”

“What!?” You let out an over the top excited screech

“All the girls have talked about since Sunday, has been making art & playing with you & your pasta was half decent on Sunday night, so what do you say… are you free tonight to come & see us to sign & be our house keeper & nanny & discus when you will start?” He asks, he himself is also excited to have you work for him. He’s not lying when he says how excited the girls have been, but he is drawn to you & he can’t explain why.

“Yes Mr York, what time?” You just about get the word out.

“7pm, don’t worry it’s Wednesday, I cook on Wednesdays, you’ll always have that night off from cooking” he laughs a little down the phone.

“Sounds perfect Mr York, I will see you tonight”

Once the call is over, you rush back to your friends & tell them you got the job. Suddenly the orange juices you were all having are now Buck’s Fizz as your friends celebrate your new job with you. “To attending the needs of the Yorks” you toast & your friends cheer. You have no idea exactly what needs you are about to attend, ignorance for now is completely bliss & will remain that way for a little while.

[evienovo]

An extremely calm student who is rarely vexed by her surroundings. Her casual demeanor and excellent social skills have earned her some unexpected popularity at school. Known for keeping the peace, she is constantly reminding others to relax.

[ArtFight page]

Name: Chrysalis Narghile Nicknames: Koi (Floyd), Mademoiselle Chenille/Mademoiselle Papillon (Rook), Chrissy CVs: Mitsuishi Kotono (三石 琴乃) (JP), Mónica Rial (EN) Gender: Female Species: Butterfly beasthuman Birthday: November 30 Age: 17 Height: 165 cm (5’5”) Homeland: Queendom of Roses Dorm: Heartslabyul Year: 2 (Sophomore) Class: E (No. 28) Best subject: Potionology Club: Arts & Crafts Favorite food: Komaj Least favorite food: Canned vegetables Likes: Perfumes Dislikes: Waking up early Hobby: Candle making Talent: Metalwork, fragrance mixing Twisted from: The Caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland Unique Magic/Signature Spell: Puff She can produce smoke from her mouth that intoxicates people and neutralizes magic

Personality Chrysalis is extremely laid-back and easy going, to the point of appearing lazy or sluggish to some people. While it's true that she's not one to rush things, she's also fairly responsible with her schoolwork and other responsibilities. Naturally calm, she is not easily fazed or annoyed, unless she is being ordered around or rushed, in which case she might get a bit confrontational. Chrysalis is very well liked and easy to get along with, which has earned her a decent social life despite her difficulty with remembering people's names. She enjoys lightly teasing people regularly and doesn't mind others doing the same to her, so long as she's not being mocked or insulted. She has good self-esteem and is generally not too concerned with others’ opinions of her, whether it be of her appearance, personality or otherwise. She does not pay much attention to how she dresses, and prefers comfort over style. However, she is very picky about personal hygiene, and thanks to her affinity for fragrances she always smells nice.

Background Chrysalis comes from a family of metalworkers and jewelry crafters from the Queendom of Roses, although some of their ancestors were originally from the Scalding Sands. Being curious and persistent as a child, she learned how to work with metal from her parents at a young age, and is fond of all forms of arts and crafts projects. She also enjoys mixing fragrances and either creating perfumes or incorporating them into handmade candles.

She has three older brothers who attended NRC when Chrysalis was young. The siblings are very close, although the boys regularly make fun of Chrysalis for being considerably shorter than them and other members of her family, which always puts her in a bad mood.

Chrysalis is a butterfly beasthuman who has not gone through her metamorphosis as of her second year at NRC.

Unique Magic/Signature Spell Chrysalis’ signature spell is called Puff. She can produce smoke from her mouth that intoxicates people and neutralizes another person’s magic. The smoke can make people feel lightheaded, sleepy, nauseous, or delirious depending on how much of it they breathe in and how concentrated Chrysalis makes it. While it affects mages and non-mages alike, it seems to have a stronger effect on people or creatures with magical abilities, as it disables these abilities completely for a short amount of time and leaves them feeling very weak overall. Once a person is affected by it, the only solution is to wait for the effects to pass, since Chrysalis can’t control the smoke once it enters another person’s system.

In a duel, Chrysalis can surround herself with her smoke and use it as a shield, as it repels magical attacks and it does not intoxicate her. However, it does block her own magical attacks, so she has to let her defense down before attacking. The amount of blot this spell produces is proportionate to the amount of smoke she releases and its concentration.

While she does not need it to use her signature spell, Chrysalis often uses a metal pipe to better control the flow, direction and concentration of her smoke. She crafted the pipe herself and always carries it with her.

Trivia

Chrysalis was a very late bloomer when it came to her metamorphosis - while most butterfly beasthumans’ wings and antennae grow when they’re around 9 or 10 years old, Chrysalis’ didn’t happen until she was almost 18 and studying at NRC. She had to spend a month and a half holed up in the dorm and taking remote classes while she dealt with the pain of her body’s transformation (and learned how to function with 3 ft wings growing out of her back). It was not a good experience for her or anyone in Heartslabyul.

Since she didn’t have any visible butterfly traits before the metamorphosis, most of her classmates didn’t know she was a beasthuman until her antennae started poking out of her head

She loves obscure, weird authors and poets, and writes experimental poetry from time to time that makes no sense to anyone else. She also entered (and won) many spelling bee contests as a kid.

As fond as she is of making weed and 4/20 jokes, she does not smoke - it’s all her magic

She’s second only to Leona when it comes to finding the best places to nap on campus

Riddle had a physical reaction to her cardigan the first time he saw it; he hates it so much

She sometimes chews on her pipe when she’s deep in thought, even if she’s not using it for her signature spell at the time

((Speaking of which, her pipe will be redesigned because what the fresh hell is that))

Can often be found singing or humming under her breath when she’s alone

While she loves and makes all kinds of jewelry, she doesn’t wear any herself that often

She doesn’t have the best memory when it comes to people, and forgets someone’s name 3 seconds after they introduce themselves

Shoutout to @fabulositylevel80 for helping me pick her English VA💕

profile & intro card templates candy template

[codexpro]

Coding Assessment Software- Reduce The Probability Of Bias In Hiring

Effectively assessing an interviewee’s technical talents through a normal interview is one of the inefficiencies that come with hiring qualified engineers. A CV and a few interview questions are no longer enough to assess a candidate’s true coding skills. Technical evaluation remains one of the most intimidating aspects of the hiring process for HR professionals and recruiting teams. Coding Assessment Software provides an unbiased evaluation of candidates’ abilities, which helps to solve the inefficiencies of traditional interviews.

How does Coding Assessment Software transform the hiring process?

By offering a more efficient and objective method of assessing technical skills, coding evaluation software revolutionises the employment process, improving applicant selection and shortening the hiring schedule. It lessens prejudice and increases the accuracy of hiring choices by assisting recruiters in finding qualified individuals more rapidly and ensuring they have the coding skills required for the position. Businesses may change their recruiting procedure from old, subjective assessments to a faster, data-driven, and objective method by utilising coding assessment software.

Look at the must-have features of Coding Assessment Software

Choose platforms based on your needs that will support a wide range of languages, including Python, Java, JavaScript, C++, and more.

Measuring different skill levels and domain knowledge areas is made easier with the availability of a wide variety of questions.

It is essential to have the capability of producing and developing tests according to specific job requirements.

Simulating real-world development settings enhances the capacity to evaluate applicants’ performance on the job.

Verify the candidate’s work for originality by looking for instances of copied text.

Comprehensive performance reviews help recruiters make quick, educated judgments.

Hiring becomes simple when the System integrates seamlessly.

What are the challenges that can be avoided by coding assessment software?

Avoid the complications of filtering resumes

AI-powered screening tools on coding assessment platforms first compare resumes to job descriptions, quickly eliminating applications that don’t match the required criteria. Then, by evaluating candidates’ actual coding skills early in the hiring process, recruiters can efficiently narrow down the initial pool to a qualified shortlist of applicants who can successfully perform the necessary tasks. Consequently, this approach saves time while ensuring more accurate and skill-focused hiring decisions.

Minimise hiring cost

In IT, poor hiring practices might cause more harm than people realise. This is fixed by coding assessment platforms. There is less waiting for the ideal candidate to join when hiring is done more quickly. By assessing foundational skills, these assessments also assist in avoiding bad decisions.

Helps in technical screening

Technical screening becomes unfair when hiring teams rely on unstructured interviews and manual resume checks. However, AI-powered coding assessment software replaces this speculation with objective data by evaluating real coding skills through performance-based testing. As a result, recruiters can make fairer and more informed decisions based on measurable abilities rather than assumptions.

Does coding assessment software limit the bias in the hiring procedure?

Unconscious prejudice often permeates traditional hiring practices, showing up through name discrimination on resumes and irrelevant personal preferences during interviews. However, coding assessment platforms actively reduce these biases by focusing solely on demonstrated coding proficiency. As a result, organizations can make more objective and skill-based hiring decisions.

Coding Assessment Software is designed to examine technical skills according to predetermined standards, excluding the possibility of subjective interpretations and particular biases that may affect conventional interview techniques.

Using consistent assessments ensures that all applicants are assessed according to the same criteria, avoiding rating discrepancies caused by interviewer biases.

Coding tests minimise the impact of elements like presentation style, which can introduce bias, by emphasising code quality and problem-solving abilities.

Coding exams assist hiring managers in making well-informed selections based on knowledge and skills rather than subjective judgments or presumptions by offering measurable facts on candidate performance.

By eliminating human error and guaranteeing uniform scoring for every applicant, automated grading methods help avoid biases that may result from subjective grading.

Coding tests make remote recruiting easier by removing regional restrictions and mitigating bias that may emerge from face-to-face encounters.

Upcoming Developments in Coding Evaluation Systems

AI and machine learning will shape the future of coding assessment systems by enabling automated grading, advanced applicant analysis, and freeing recruiters to focus on other business-building activities. As a result, organizations can streamline their assessment processes and significantly improve evaluation accuracy. Moreover, by leveraging these technologies, companies enhance efficiency while ensuring more objective and data-driven hiring decisions.

The need for cloud-based coding evaluation tools is increasing as recruiting practices move towards remote work. In lieu of an evaluation, organisations must have adaptable solutions that enable shortlisting and interviewing applicants from all over the world and in different time zones.

Summary

In the field of software engineering, professionals swiftly turn ideas into reality. Software engineers drive the digital revolution by constantly exploring new and innovative ways to solve complex problems and build cutting-edge solutions. Consequently, IT companies must actively assess the coding skills of potential hires to ensure they select the most qualified candidates. Therefore, implementing effective coding assessments plays a crucial role in identifying top talent and building strong development teams..

Technical recruiting is being revolutionised by Coding Assessment Software. HR staff can screen more candidates in less time without compromising quality, thanks to process automation and standardisation. Visit Codexpro to get a better understanding of such software.

[suicidalashley]

dear briar rose,

she's sleeping beauty? yes. who are you? i am the king in sleeping beauty. what does briar rose want with me? she wants your dick in her mouth? i don't know, bitch. wow. you're a king? yes. and you are a sweet little dude. what is your name? firstly. my name, firstly, is king hubert. oh ok. why is she talking to me, again? she just wants to know if you can put her back in ghetto suicide? i would need her phone number and this is on tumblr, so that's not going to work. she needs to get another guys phone number. she can't do that. she doesn't talk to boys. why? because she talks to so many boys in her diary, and they will want to know what she is writing. if she already did ghetto suicide once then she doesn't need to do it again. that's true... i guess we didn't think about that. did it work at least a little bit? yes. she saw 2 south korean men her age. did they stare at her? yes, they did. did she stare at them? yes, she did. did they have long hair like mine? yes... how did you know that? we think that's her type, but we're not sure. i know both of them. what? yes. she needs to go to best buy right now. and cvs. the boy that she saw at cvs didn't work there. how does she know that? he was wearing pink pants. how long did he stare at her? until the next isle hid him. hmm. he said something much different. they would be gr8 for each other. so who are you? i am her husband and i am going to make sure that she never goes to best buy or cvs ever again. why not? her grandpa was in the same trade as the guy at best buy. we know. oh ok. well, he's been waiting for her to come back since last fall. we know. she can't come back. why? she's good. ok... what does she like to do for fun? this. she is a mandated reporter and she loves her job. i'm not going to jail for this right? no. you shouldn't. i'm talking about south korean jail. what? why? don't tell her dude... ok! i won't tell her. we will make sure that you don't go to jail as long as you call off the dogs. what? no. we're going to keep breaking into her aparmtnet and no one can stop us. yes, she has stopped them, but it really and truly does need to end, forever. why? she's already being protected enough as it is, you dumbasses don't need to break into her house to protect her. you're right. i'll contact everyone. don't worry about it anymore, briar rose. and we are really sorry, sweet cheeks. what? she asked you for a kiss on the cheek didn't she? yes, she found my instagram and messaged me and i am already at her apartment right now. we're going to fuck. wait? how is that possible? it's the futre... and i talked to her simulation publisher sun beam and he said that i could do it as long as it doesn't last for longer than 1 week. what? sun beam is so fucking crazy dude. i can see why she's scared to go into moon beams simulation. what? she's not afraid! she has never said that before, keeho. i know, but she is secretely scared. how do you know that? i know every single last detail about her down to her atoms. ok... that was so creepy. briar rose? we can ditch the place and just run away to thailand. this is her thai soldier. she loves thailand. thank you, and goodbye! what? she knows a thai soldier? yes, she does. that was so funny and cool! it's funny, she was right about brian... we're really worried that she's actually in his simulation, and then she went into sun beams simulation. she's in the yoon families simulation too. she's just never going to be able to make decisions for herself, no one could handle that, being in so many simulations. how doe she handle being married to keeho? he is ... nvm. i just pray for her wellbeing. it's her sword dancer pen pal. i am ready to come out of my silence. i taught her how to smile for 6 months or so, and yet right now, she looks distraught. i showed this girl my sword. i'm so upset. tell her to never mention me again, i will talk to her. i am going to help her defeat keeho. it's keeho. your lessons didn't do a dang thing. are you sure? didn't you say that she's a catholic school girl, now? she has always been a catholic.

[goblinselfshippr]

Emma selfship intro

Was saved in my drafts as “Fixed”, but I have no idea if that’s the title or if it was a note to myself😅

Word count: 1.6k Warnings: imagery that could be considered graphic, talk about allowing a partner to disrespect boundaries (emma would not do that, my insert’s just traumatized), mention of cannon events where a character is being drunk and yelling, suggestive banter, mentions of a hospital Additional Notes: this is the W//atXM universe currently.

It always starts like this, doesn’t it? “No, I can't be in love with them. I hate her. He’s the worst, we’re mortal enemies actually” blah blah blah.

But her? Her I would fall for, happily, face first, onto hard cement until enough of my bones cracked to make her happy. I wouldn’t care that love is an ugly thing because I am an ugly thing, and I’d do anything to make her happy. By that logic, even if it seems unappealing initially, it can be good for you, right? Like brussel sprouts.

Actually, I like brussel sprouts, but I understand that I am in the minority here. Anyway, my vegetable preferences aren’t meant to take the foreground here, that’s Emma’s job.

I should start detailing this current era. Storm is gone, Nightcrawler is gone, Jean and her boytoy are too. Just about everyone is gone. Bishop isn’t, Hank isn’t. Logan turned up with Xavier about a week ago. Emma followed shortly after. Logan doesn’t like her, but I’m long past the age where his opinions were law. I don’t think even his disapproval could stop these emotions anyway. I need to just accept all these emotions because any sign of turmoil would alert her of my true feelings. My mental barrier is only strong enough to keep her from giving me a cursory scan, any attempt to actually pry and I’m done for. Hell, I was probably already found out and she was just ignoring me, but I could hope that all the Cerebro work was taking up too much of her energy to pry too deeply. She’s not as strong as she will be, but that time isn’t too far in the future. Five years tops and she’ll be fully advanced with a CVS receipt full of abilities, including reading thoughts through a language barrier and a weak mental wall.

I should really get better at that, but it was so much work. Not to mention there was a part of me that didn’t want to hide from her. A part of me that felt that my thoughts were hers. Not because she was owed, but because I liked her and it was something I could afford to give her willingly.

Perhaps I spoke too soon about Jean’s toy being gone. Heavy footsteps accompanied by an all too familiar yelling broke out. Everyone can hear Scott arguing with Logan through the halls. I think he’s drunk– Scott I mean, not Logan. None of his words make any sense. Just when it started to be unbearable, Emma shut them both up, and Logan dragged her off to disagree with her privately. I don’t understand why he does that with her, he has no problem yelling at the rest of us with an audience. Maybe I was a little jealous since I’d grown up having Logan tear me a new one in front of anyone, and maybe the fact that he was getting alone time with Emma wasn’t the best for my jealous nature either. Was he arguing with her or was it a front for something else? I definitely hoped not.

“Hey, Can we sidebar for a sec?” I grabbed his elbow in the hall when he passed. He considered refusing but followed me off to my room anyway. He stood with his arms crossed, back against the door, waiting.

“This isn’t gonna be Jean part two, is it?”

“What?”

“You heard me. You drag Scott back, and he immediately recognizes Emma from the Phoenix incident. He has a history of idolizing telepaths, and you do too. Not to mention you’re being uncharacteristically easy on her.”

“Caz, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but–“

“Don’t lie to me. Scott, I can ignore because he’s…” an inebriated idiot with an inflated ego, among other things, “how he is, but you’re different. If you’re the begrudging leader here, you absolutely cannot fall into your weird habits again.”

“I don’t have a weird habit—“

“No? You sure you don’t just wanna kiss Summers on the mouth? Because it seems to me you two can’t keep your hands off each other. Not just him either, you’re awfully touchy with Emma. This is all shaping up to be just like when Jean was around.”

After saying my piece, I waited, arms crossed like him. And waited. And waited. Until:

“Oh dammit, fine. You have my word, this won’t be like last time. Christ.”

“Thank you, Logan,” I waved him off. He shakes his head, grumbling to himself as he leaves. Okay. That solves one problem… now to deal with the other half. How would I do that though? Do I just tell Scott that his wife’s alive? What if she doesn’t want to see him? I don’t think she ever gets found in this world. I can’t remember, I never paid any attention to her.

Obviously, you can’t just tell someone in such a fragile state of mind this kind of information flat out, his response would be to drunkenly drag me to her so he could see her. I can’t ask Logan for his opinion either because he’d have the same response. I’d be painted in a bad light if I waited too long, Hank’s a rational guy, maybe he knows what the right response is.

“You shouldn’t wander around outside your head like that.”

I startled a little, meeting Emma’s eyes. Shit, I know my face is red. “Sorry, I…” I trailed off, should I even involve her in this? Emma is doing just about everything else in this place, I can’t expect her to do this too.

“Going to see the new arrival? He’s still slobbering drunk,” distaste clear in her voice. I laughed nervously, “Maybe I should go see Hank first then.” I started going the other way. She followed. I looked over at her curiously, “Did you, um, need something?” I looked down as soon as her blue eyes met mine, feeling the sting of heat bubble up. I hope that’s not a blush, how obvious can you be? She spoke in her usual, measured tone, “Of all the mansion’s residents, you’re the one I’ve encountered the least.”

“I keep to myself, usually.”

“Really? Everyone else knows you.”

“I’ve been coming here since I was a kid.”

“Coming here, but not staying?”

“My dad and the professor were close, but that doesn’t mean he’d let me stay full-time.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry, by the way. For Logan.”

“Don’t be, you aren’t responsible for his actions.”

“I know, but he won’t apologize himself.”

That got her to laugh, and my stomach flipped.

“No, you’re right.”

And then we were at the door to the lab. We said our goodbyes and I practically bolted inside the lab, shutting the door tight. “If it isn’t our resident chaos bringer,” Hank spoke up from the opposite end of the lab. He’s writing something. “I need advice, everything here is confidential, right?” I hopped up on his desk. He clicked his tongue but didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he settled on a soft, “Of course, my dear.” Hank was safe, and it was better if he knew everything.

“I know where Jean is— roughly— but I’m apprehensive about bringing her back,” I said quickly. Hank looked like he was in shock, peering over his glasses, “Well why would you be? If we have her, we could–“

“She’s not herself. She doesn’t remember who she is, she barely knows how to control her powers. More than that, if she remembers and chooses not to come back… how would you think those two morons upstairs would react?”

Hank sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing his forehead, “ I see… well, you’re not wrong for not wanting to get their hopes up, but I do think we should stop her from falling into the wrong hands.” I tried to think of somewhere we could hide her, let her recuperate away from the high stress, but nothing…

“What if we asked Magneto for a favor?” I said quickly. Hank shook his head, “Not likely given Logan’s… latest run-in. I’m afraid even your advantages wouldn’t get us very far with him.” Yeah, that was fair. We were already asking for too much by begging him not to take back custody of his unconscious bestie.

“Oh! Wait, my father has a facility we could use. I just give you a dimensional key and we can come and go as we please. No one will be able to slip past us,” I offered. He considered it, “I do think it could work… but how do we go about getting her undetected? The MRD is everywhere, and I certainly can’t walk in and ask to speak to her.” Damn. Solo mission then. I assured him, “I’ll get it done, don’t worry about it. I should be the one to go anyway, the ears have walls here. At least I can just warp where I need without anyone following.”

This would take a few days of planning, if not a week. I need fake paperwork that my father can get me. Amaimon and I used a bit of illusion magic to take false childhood pictures of me and Jean. I’d have to get my story straight too. She’d be my cousin who got tangled up with some guy, and we lost contact about a year ago. The last time we spoke, she mentioned New York, and I was talking to all the hospitals in the area. It would look fake if I got it right away though— I’d need to visit at least one or two different hospitals. If I made it sound like the imaginary ex was a bad guy, they’d keep a closer watch on her, and stop anyone from entering.

[harmacytechnician]

Hi, actual pharmacy technician of over three years here wanting to add a few notes.

It is true that you WILL have better luck getting brand name Adderall than the generic- the brand name is not on back order. However, this is mostly true for EXTENDED RELEASE Adderall (Adderall XR) because some pharmacies simply cannot get brand name IMMEDIATE RELEASE Adderall from our suppliers. At the Walgreens stores I've worked at, we almost never have brand name IMMEDIATE RELEASE Adderall.

If you find the drug in stock at a different pharmacy than the one you normally fill at/the one the prescription was sent to, you DO need your doctor to send a WHOLE NEW PRESCRIPTION to the pharmacy that has the drug. We CANNOT transfer it because it is a Schedule II Controlled Substance and it is simply illegal to transfer those from pharmacy to pharmacy. I know it's a hassle and you might have to explain things to your doctor; I am sorry.

The pharmacy CANNOT contact your doctor for you to ask for a new prescription. I can't speak for every pharmacy ever, but Walgreens policy is that we DO NOT contact prescribers about Schedule II Controlled Substances; that is the patient's responsibility. Again, sorry. It's a legal thing.

If you find the drug in stock at another pharmacy, have your prescriber send it in AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. Even waiting as little as a few hours could mean we run out of it before we get your script, and we fill them on a FIRST COME, FIRST SERVE basis. Even if you call ahead, we will NOT reserve pills for you. We have to try and accommodate as many people as possible and the only fair way to do it is to fill the scripts as they come in. We're doing our best.

When your doctor sends in the script for the Adderall, it DOES NOT have to say brand name AS LONG AS IT DOES NOT SAY "DISPENSE AS WRITTEN" WHEN WRITTEN FOR THE GENERIC. If you have your prescriber write for brand name Adderall and have them write "DISPENSE AS WRITTEN" you might be shooting yourself in the foot because if the pharmacy ends up having the generic and NOT the brand they CANNOT fill it for the generic in that case and you are shit out of luck. Your best bet is having the prescriber write for the generic WITHOUT writing "DISPENSE AS WRITTEN" and manually CALLING the pharmacy to tell us you need it filled for the BRAND. That way whether we have the brand or the generic, you can get your prescription. Just remember, if the prescriber writes "DISPENSE AS WRITTEN" we are locked into whichever they write for, brand or generic.

When calling around to see which pharmacies have it, ask for EXACT ON-HAND COUNTS. I tell you this because if you have a prescription for 30 capsules and a pharmacy has 20 in stock, depending on the store they would be willing to give you the 20 that they have. NOT ALL STORES WILL DO THIS. ASK BEFORE ASSUMING. Also, if you do take the 20 capsules in this example, you are FORFEITING the remaining 10 and will need a NEW SCRIPT when you run out of the 20 capsules. You will likely have to explain this to your prescriber. It is a hassle, but in a pinch it will get you your meds even if you can't get the whole script filled. Some meds are better than no meds.

When calling around to see which pharmacies have it, call DIFFERENT CHAINS. Don't JUST call Walgreens or JUST call CVS stores- different chain pharmacies have different suppliers. I take adderall and I used to fill it where I work, Walgreens, but the Walgreens supplier simply can't get more than one or two bottles of it at a time. I switched to a local pharmacy whose supplier is not encountering the same issue and have been able to get my adderall on time every month since I started filling there. Explore your options.

You might need an override from your insurance to get brand name Adderall- the OP explained the process of doing this very well and I don't have much to add to what they said on the matter. Just be aware that even IF you get your override, you may still have a HIGHER COPAY than if you were filling for the generic. I'm sorry. At the pharmacy level, we have no control over the price; we just charge whatever insurance tells us to charge.

If your insurance won't permit the override and you have MEDICAID/STATE INSURANCE you are in for a rough time. If you have MEDICAID/STATE INSURANCE and your insurance won't pay for the brand, WE LEGALLY CANNOT LET YOU PAY OUT OF POCKET EVEN IF YOU HAVE THE MONEY TO DO SO. IF WE LET YOU PAY OUT OF POCKET, YOU MAY LOSE YOUR BENEFITS AND THE PHARMACY LOSES THEIR CONTRACT WITH THE STATE SO WE CAN NO LONGER SERVE PEOPLE WITH THAT INSURANCE PLAN. I'm sorry. It sucks, but that's the way it is. Thankfully, a lot of Medicaid plans PREFER the brand Adderall so I have not encountered this issue at my pharmacy.

When calling to see what a pharmacy has in stock ask about DIFFERENT DOSES. Let's say you take one 30mg tablet of adderall per day. The pharmacy might be out of 30mg tablets, HOWEVER, sometimes we can get different doses in. If you're calling around, at least try and ask if we have 15mg tablets, because if we do, your doctor can write a script for two of the 15mg tablets daily (which is still a daily dose of 30mg). You WILL have to explain this to your doctor, but most doctors will be willing to do this for you. It's a hassle, but it's a way to get your meds. At my store, we've been able to get the 7.5mg and 15mg generic immediate release adderalls in pretty consistently, but the 10mg, 20mg, and 30mg are a lot harder to get. I don't know why this is, it's just how it is. You just might have to get creative.

Those are all the main points I can think of. I know this is a very frustrating time for everyone taking these types of medications. I hope everyone is able to get their meds and figure something out. Through it all, though, please be kind and patient with your local pharmacy's staff. We are doing our very best, I swear that we are. I know you're frustrated, but please, please, PLEASE do not take it out on us. I can't emphasize enough how hard we're trying.

If you have any questions about what I've written here you can send me an ask and I will answer it to the best of my ability. I don't have all the answers, but I have been a technician for over three years and have been dealing with these shortages for almost a whole year at this point.

Best of luck and I hope these additional tips can help someone.

If you live in the US and can't get generic Adderall because of the shortage, this might help.

I don't know how much this will vary across insurance plans/states, but it worked for me:

Step 1: If you haven't already, call other pharmacies in the area. Find out if they have the generic and if they have brand name Adderall.

(In my experience, it's mostly the generic that's out everywhere. Fewer people get brand name because it's $300 for 30 pills and not all insurance plans cover it.)

Step 2: Call your insurance company. Ask them if they cover brand name Adderall. If they don't, tell them the generic isn't available in your area because of the shortage (mention that you've called multiple pharmacies) and ask if they can give you a temporary brand override.

(If they do cover it, you may still need your doctor to call in a new prescription for the brand version, but then you should be all set.)

Step 3: If they can do an override, call your doctor next. Have them send a new prescription for your usual dosage to one of the pharmacies that has Adderall. Make sure that the prescription is for brand name Adderall and says "brand only."

(I had to explain why I needed this new prescription to my doctor's team a couple of times, but they put the request through.)

Step 4: When the prescription goes through, call your insurance company back. Explain the situation to them again, and ask them for a temporary brand override.

Step 5: Go pick up your damn pills.

Sincerely, the tired bitch who got her meds.

[itcareeradvice]

Future-Proofing Your Career: Tips for Continuous Learning and Adaptability in the Ever-Changing Tech Landscape

The tech world is a dazzling vortex of constant change. Today's hot skills can become tomorrow's relics, leaving even the most experienced professionals feeling the chill of obsolescence. Fear not, tech warriors! This blog equips you with the secrets to future-proof your career, ensuring you not only survive but thrive in the ever-evolving tech landscape.

Embrace Continuous Learning:

Think of your skillset as a living organism, not a static statue. It needs constant nourishment to stay vibrant and relevant. IT job consultancy in Singapore, like Base Camp, can guide you towards the top IT jobs in demand for the future, providing curated learning resources and training programmes to sharpen your skills in cutting-edge fields like AI, cyber security, and cloud computing. Remember, learning is a marathon, not a sprint; make it a daily habit with online courses, industry events, and mentorship opportunities.

Sharpen Your Adaptability Muscle:

The only constant in tech is change. Gone are the days of one-job-for-life careers. Cultivate adaptability as your superpower. Be open to new technologies, embrace upskilling and reskilling initiatives, and don't shy away from venturing into uncharted tech territories. Base Camp can connect you with diverse career paths and opportunities, helping you navigate the twists and turns of the tech journey.

Network Like a Pro:

Your network is your net in the turbulent tech seas. Connect with industry experts, attend meetups and conferences, and build meaningful relationships with like-minded individuals. IT job consultancy in Singapore provides a valuable platform to network with potential employers and fellow tech enthusiasts, expanding your horizons and opening doors to exciting possibilities.

Invest in Soft Skills:

While technical expertise is crucial, remember, the human touch still reigns supreme. Polish your communication, collaboration, and critical thinking abilities. Learn to manage projects effectively, lead teams with vision, and navigate complex challenges with a cool head. These soft skills, often overlooked, are your secret weapons in a world increasingly powered by automation and AI.

Be a Futurist, Not a Follower:

Don't wait for the future to hit you; actively seek it out! Stay updated on industry trends, read tech blogs, and listen to expert podcasts. This approach serves as your window into the future of work, offering expert insights and forecasts on the top IT jobs in demand for the future. By anticipating the tech curve, you can position yourself ahead of the pack and seize the opportunities that lie ahead.

Remember, future-proofing your career is a continuous journey, not a one-time feat. By embracing learning, adaptability, and a proactive approach, you can not only survive but thrive in the ever-changing tech landscape. Partner with an IT job consultancy in Singapore—your trusted guide on this exhilarating journey into the future of tech.

So, buckle up, tech adventurers! The future is bright for those who embrace change, sharpen their skills, and stay connected. Let's conquer the tech frontier together, one innovation at a time!

READ MORE POSTS ABOUT IT JOBS & RECRUITMENT-RELATED TIPS & TRICKS IN ASIA:

What does Valentine's Day have in common with IT Recruitment?

Valentine's Day is all about love and that rings true in the IT recruitment world too. Recruiters have to wear their hearts of their sleeves when it comes to finding the right IT talent for any given role.

Top 5 ways to properly use Linkedin to effectively land your dream job

Here are the top 5 ways to properly use LinkedIn so that you can land your dream job:

Why Shouldn’t You Accept a Counteroffer from The Standpoint Of A Recruiter?

You've finally decided to start looking for a new career and new opportunities. You've submitted your CV and portfolio to various job-search websites, you went through multiple job interviews, and finally, you received an offer that you are totally prepared to accept.

[skylarsolstice]

Here's a little preview of my Magnus Archives mafia AU fic: The Magnum Archives

Martin Gilroy.

Arthur Blackwood looked down at the ID that now marked him as a man with that name. It turned out that if you were related to Salesa, you could pull favours with the men selling fabricated backstories. Arthur- or rather, Martin- flicked the card between his fingers, looking up at the old building that housed the Magnus Archives. Martin smirked. Elias Bouchard was certainly bold, Martin would give him that. Martin had to give him that, considering how bold he was about to be.

He stepped into the building, looking around for the front desk. Approaching it with a little more uncertainty than he had approached the building; he felt a little silly, actually. Having been so caught up in this entire plan, he’d forgotten how long it'd been since he had properly interacted like this.

Foreign words tumbled out of his mouth, getting a little jumbled together in his haste. “Ah, hi, hello. I’m looking for Mr. Bouchard? Uh, I have an appointment with him, soon… I think.”

Well, all things considering, a little social anxiety would probably help with covering what Martin was actually planning on doing here.

The woman at the desk looks up from her computer and asks "Mr. Gilroy right?"

"Yes, Martin" he replied

"Great, have a seat over there and I'll let you know when he's ready" she told him "I'm Rosie by the way" she added.

Martin nodded and took a seat outside of Mr. Bouchard's office. He sat there for a few minutes just looking around. He noticed the cob webs in the corners of the room, one of them with a spider hanging from it.

Martin had always been fascinated with spiders. He recalls his science research project from primary school. How many hours did he spend on that project with his father? That was before he left of course.

Before Martin could get too lost in thought, he heard Rosie call.

"He's ready for you now Mr. Gilroy. You can go right on in."

"Thank you," he replied over his shoulder. He twisted the knob and entered the office. Elias is a small man, wearing a 3 piece navy suit with a white shirt and black tie. His face is sharp with a well kept moustache and bright green eyes that seemed to pierce right through Martin- like he was trying to read his soul and intentions. Martin took in a shaky breath.

"Good morning Mr. Bouchard, how are you doing?"

"I'm doing well, thank you. Have a seat," he all but demanded. "Sorry for making you wait. It's been a bit hectic around her these last few weeks after our previous Archivist’s disappearance. Now what can I help you with?" He said, looking up at Martin.

"Well Mr. Bouchard, I'm here for the archival assistant job. I think I'm more than qualified for the position. If you look at my CV that I sent over you'll see I have quite a bit of experience as a personal assistant and in archiving," Martin responded with as much confidence as he could muster.

"I did take a look at the CV you sent over, and I must say I am impressed. You have good experience and education along with some very reputable references- Something you don't see as often as you would think. My question for you is why do you want to work here? Why this institution?" He asked in a smooth voice.

"Well, this is most certainly a reputable institution and I find the research you do here quite fascinating, even riveting. I would love to be a part of that research. Also there aren't many places that would make use of my parapsychology and library science degree," He answered with as much confidence as he could muster.

"Yes, I suppose that's true," Elias said with a small laugh. "Well Mr. Gilroy, I admire your boldness and that with your substantial experience, eagerness, and applicable education I think you would be a great fit for this job," Elias stated. Martin breathes a silent sigh of relief. It worked. "I'll just need you to fill out some paperwork and have it ready on your first day. Does Monday work?" He asked

"Yes, that's perfect," Martin eagerly replied.

"Great. Go ahead and just let Rosie know you need the new hire paperwork. You'll drop that off at her desk Monday and then she can show you down to the archives. This place can be a bit of a maze if you don't know where you're going," He added.

"Thank you Mr. Bouchard," he said, shaking the other man's hand. He walked back out to the front desk to talk to Rosie again.

"Here's the paperwork you need." She said, handing him a thick packet of paper. "Just bring it in, completed, to me on Monday and then I can show you to the archives. We don't need you getting lost on your first day." She remarked.

Martin thanked her and headed back out the way he came. It was time for the fun to begin.

-

Martin arrived at the institute approximately 10 minutes early. He wanted to make a good impression on his new coworkers. Heading over to Rosie's desk to drop off the paperwork he completed, he lightly cleared his throat to get her attention. As soon as she looked up at him, he spoke.

"Hey, I have my paperwork ready. Hoping I could still get a guide down to the archives."

"Of course, no problem!" She said, taking the packet from him. "Follow me," She continued. She led him to the elevator and pressed the button for the basement. After they got off, she led him down winding corridors to a door marked Archives. "Here we are. Good luck on your first day!" She said with a big smile.

"Thank you. Have a good one," He replied as she walked off back toward the elevator or it looked like he was heading back that way. This place was rather confusing. Martin took a deep breath before walking in through the door into the archives. Inside, there were two occupied desks with plaques. One reads Timothy Stoker- Archival Assistant, and the other Sasha James- Assistant to Head of Archives. Martin cleared his throat and both of them looked up.

"H-hi, I'm uh- M-martin. Um- Martin Gilroy," He stuttered out.

"Hey, it's the newbie!" The man behind the right desk yelled. "Nice to meet you. I'm Tim, your new favourite coworker; and this," he gestured to the woman in the next desk over "is Sasha James: the biggest pain in the ass this side of the Atlantic!" He said with the biggest grin.

"Shut up Tim," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Ignore him, he's an idiot. It's nice to meet you, Martin. I'll let Jon know you're here and we'll get you set up," She got up from her desk and made her way to the office in the back. She knocked on the door with the inscription Jonathan Sims- Head Archivist. She walks in and says something Martin can't quite make out; then she turns back to Martin. "You can go on in. He's ready to meet you," She called to him with a smile.

Martin made his way to the back of the room and through the door. He looked at the man behind the desk and he immediately felt his face flush. He's a slight man with long dark hair tied back into a ponytail. Although he looks relatively young, his hair already had a few grey streaks running through it. He looked up at Martin with big brown eyes and Martin couldn't help, but find him and the warm brown of his skin very attractive.

"H-hello, I'm Martin, Martin Gilroy. I'm the new archival assistant. It's nice to meet you Mr. Sims," The words came out relatively coherent- much to his surprise. Martin desperately hoped Jon couldn't see the flush in his cheeks.

Jon looked up curiously at Martin making eye contact with his ocean blue eyes. He couldn't help, but notice the other man was quite tall and large in a sense that made you not want to get on his bad side. Martin had a cute rosy flush to his cheeks as well.

Cute? Did he really just think he's cute? Oh boy. Jon pushed that thought to the back of his mind to address later… or ignore forever. Whichever came first.

"Good morning Martin, have a seat. I'm just finishing getting your account set up on our software." Jon said as he finished typing everything in. "Alright, that should do it. Here is the information you will need to login," he continued, sliding a sticky note across the desk with a temporary username and password on it. "Once you get logged in you can customise your account and everything."

"Great, thank you Mr. Sims," Martin replied with a small, flustered smile. "What should I get started on today?" He asked.

"There should be some boxes on your desk with files in them. Just do as much online research into those statements as you can and make a report of your findings for each. We won’t get you into field research just yet. And Jon is fine, Mr. Sims was my father." He added.

"Right, of course! I'll get right on it Mr-er, Jon." He stuttered.

"Should you need any help, feel free to ask Tim, Sasha or myself," Jon replied, unable to fight a small, amused smile on his own face.

After Martin left the office Jon felt his face flush. His cheeks warm and his eyes lingered on the figure of his new coworker as he took a seat at his desk. Jon couldn't help, but feel like he could trust him; like he may be one of the only people he could trust. Where did that come from? He wondered, scratching at the earring in his left ear. He noticed more and more that the earring he always wore was irritating his ear for some reason. It was a more recent development since he started this job actually. That's weird, he thought. Maybe he needs to get it cleaned? It's a family heirloom, so he's hesitant to leave it with a total stranger. It was, after all, the last thing he had to remind him of his grandmother.

He can think about that later. For now, he needed to stop staring at Martin (and the way his brow creased as he focused), and get back to work.

Martin sat down at his desk with a long sigh. He couldn't help, but take one last look at Jon through his open office door. Some stray hairs fell in his eyes and Martin found himself imagining a moment where he would brush them away to tuck behind his ear so he could look into those deep pools of brown.

He shook himself and turned on his computer. The computer looked like it came straight out of a 90s tech catalogue, and Martin wondered if this used wifi or dial up internet. The computer started up with that classic windows start up sound- and then Martin yelped, jumping up out of his chair.

The screen saver he recognized from the scary maze game people used to prank each other with in high school. It was even accompanied by that blood curdling scream. He heard Tim laugh, taking far too much joy in Martin's terror.

"Sorry I couldn't resist," he wheezed. Sasha shot him an exasperated look. "What? I hardly get to prank newbies anymore now that we've been banished to the dungeon!" He said defensively.

"If we could not traumatise Martin on his first day that would be great," Jon called from his office, sarcasm dripping from his words. Sasha hummed in agreement.

"You guys are such buzzkills!" Tim said with an amused smile.

"No worries, it's all in good fun," Martin said with a smile. "I always expect a little bit of hazing when starting a new job and I'm hardly traumatised," he chuckled.

"See, he thought it was funny. Also I think I should get credit for knowing how to work this ancient piece of technology so well,” Tim declared.

"Yes, Tim. so impressive," Sasha deadpanned. "Now would you quiet down, some of us are trying to work here," Sasha said, throwing a piece of crumpled up paper at him.

Tim fell to the floor dramatically holding his shoulder like he had just been shot "Sasha, how could you hurt me like this?! I thought we were friends!" he cried in feigned agony.

The archival staff burst out in loud laughter at Tim’s very toddler-like drama. Martin was going to like this mission; unsanctioned or not

[adviceformefromme]

Hey there! I’ve been told I’m a really smart person but I’ve been unemployed for 5 months. Been applying and getting rejected and it hurts every time. I just feel like such a loser. I have huge dreams of getting into a major school and becoming a famous lawyer worldwide one day but here I am barely getting a job offer...

Any advice would help immensely..

PS- I love your heart and kindness. Don’t ever change.

Hey Sweetie, sorry to hear your struggles in finding a job. My long standing advice is 'life is a mirror'. Meaning, whatever you believe to be true right now is what will be reflected back to you. You mention 'you've been told' as if this is not a belief of your own? The fastest way to overcome this lack of belief is to start speaking life into yourself every-single-day. You need to programme your mind to win. Write affirmations in your journal declaring you are a famous lawyer. Write the company you want to work for, and affirm you will be getting a job there, write how fucking amazing you are, how the job offers are pouring it. Write scenarios of receiving job offers. Sit with a candle and imagine getting your first job offer. How does it feel? Who do you share the news with? What is their reaction? What are you wearing on your first day of work? Do you have your new office wardrobe ready? Visualise yourself winning. You literally have the power to go from feeling low, miserable, down and unemployed to high flying lawyer living the life of your dreams. Read books on success stories with lawyers, check out the CV of others that have recently got job offers. Use Linkedin to network, send a message and ask for a review of your CV. Attend local lawyer meetups. Go to the stores and try on work outfits even if you can't afford. Go hang out in coffee shops near your dream law firm and read a book there, imagine you are there on your lunch break. This is your fucking life, go create the magic you dream of, nothing is stopping you and really I can't wait to hear about your new job offer - because believe me it is coming! Xoxo

[leighistired]

Out Loud

A Martin character study AO3 Link

“G’night mum, love you.”

“Make sure you put the trash out, don’t want it stinking up the house.”

At 12 it occurs to Martin, he can’t recall the last time his mother said “I love you” to him. She must have. He knows she loves him, so why can’t he remember her saying it? Was it before dad left? It can’t have been that long ago. He knows if he brings it up she’ll just tell him off for being silly so he just decides to not say it unless she says it first. She doesn’t say it.

“Look how nice our neighbor’s garden is,” she says instead. “If only we could have such a nice garden.”

“The neighbors hire a man-” Martin tries to explain. He had just done law maintenance over the weekend; he would have to bring up memory issues next time they saw a doctor.

“Aren’t you happy with how I provide for you?” She snaps. “Ever since your lousy father left us I have done my best even with my health and all you can talk about is getting a bloody gardener.”

“Sorry, mum,” he says. It’s better not to argue when she gets like this.

“Forget it. Just get me my tea.”

He goes and brews her a cup of Oolong tea. It’s far too bitter for his tastes but it’s all he buys when he does the shopping. Perhaps that was it, instead of saying she loved him she just provided for him.

Martin tells himself that until she gets too sick to work and begins needling him to get a job at 14. Suddenly he’s providing for her on top of school and everything else but that didn’t mean she didn’t love him. She was just sick and the medication she was on made her tired most of the time so it wasn’t like he could expect her to be excited to see him; especially not when he’s the one bringing it to her.

“Is soup the only thing you buy?” She asks one evening when he brings her dinner.

“You didn’t have soup last night,” he reminds her patiently after a long day of school and work.

“Oh, so you think I’m ungrateful? I am your mother! I gave birth to you! You should be happy to take care of me!”

“It would be nice if you acted like a mum for once!” Martin snaps back. He regrets it as soon as he says it and doesn’t wait to hear her response. He leaves the house and sits in the park near his house for a long time and cries. Of course she loves him. It must be so hard on her to be stuck at home all day with no one to talk to and there he went snapping at her. She’s asleep by the time he comes home and neither of them mentions it in the morning.

Martin doesn’t know what he expects when he starts to transition. He hadn’t even called it a transition at first, he just likes how he looks with short hair, baggy clothes, and a sports bra. His mother disagrees. There are days she won’t even look at him and when she does it’s usually even worse.

“You cut your hair again,” she mentions one morning over breakfast. “Just when you were starting to look like a girl.”

“Yup,” Martin replies tight-lipped. He had been thinking it over for a while and he’s slowly coming to terms with the fact that he isn’t a girl. The way she says it hits him sharply. If she was never going to say “I love you” to a daughter, why would she say it to a son? He doesn’t bother coming out to her properly because he can already see the disgust on her face when he gets a proper binder.

When she decides to move into a full-time care facility, it’s almost a relief. He feels foolish for expecting her to say it when she leaves. He feels even more foolish when he says it in goodbye. The receptionist gives him a sympathetic look when she doesn’t say it back but the receptionist probably assumes his mother has memory issues and forgot who he was. She doesn’t. Still, he appreciates the gesture.

Dating is nearly impossible for most of his life. It’s easiest to blame his busy schedule; he doesn’t even have time for friends outside of school. The fact that no one even asks him out isn’t something he wants to think about. After he drops out of school and his mother leaves, dating and friendship don’t get any easier. He can’t let anyone he works with get close enough or they’ll find out his real age and utter lack of qualifications. Online dating is also out of the question for similar reasons. If one of his coworkers saw him with the age 19 in his profile they would either know he wasn’t actually 25 or they would think he was a creep and he didn’t exactly feel comfortable lying about his age to potential dates. Meeting people organically isn’t the worst thing in the world but it’s difficult. He makes a few passing friends at a local trans support group but even then, he can’t get close to anyone without risking someone discovering his falsified CV.

He doesn’t have his first real boyfriend until he’s 23 years old. They meet at a Holloween party thrown by a mutual acquaintance and date for almost five months before Martin ruins it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dominick, I love you,” Martin says as he serves dinner.

“Oh, uh, it’s a little fast to say that, don’t you think?” Dominick had stammered awkwardly. Was it? It didn’t seem like it to Martin and even if it was, it was true. He loved Dominick.

“I-I don’t think so,” Martin replies nervously. Some distant part of himself starts to berate him for being so needy.

“It kind of is. Let’s just pretend you never said it and we’ll see how we feel in a few more months, ok?”

“You mean we’ll see how you feel,” Martin says a little bitterly.

“Why can’t you just relax and enjoy the holiday?”

Martin had sighed in resignation and picked at the rest of his plate. They broke up a week later because Dominick felt like they were “looking for different things.”

Martin doesn’t have another serious boyfriend after that. He goes on a few more dates over the years but nothing that lasts longer than five months. Nothing that lasts long enough to say “I love you.” In some deep dark part of him, he wonders if he was ever meant for love. His father hadn’t loved him enough to stay, his mother hadn’t said she loved him in over a decade, and he’s not even sure he was in love with Dominick. He gets crushes, sure, but he just throws himself into his work at the Magnus Institute instead.

Working in the library isn’t bad. He gets along with his coworkers well enough but he can never get close to them. Not close enough to love them as friends or be loved in return.

Then he gets transferred to the Archives.

Jonathan Sims is not the first asshole boss Martin has ever had. He doesn’t understand why Mr. Bouchard sent him down to work in the Archive in the first place and his first impression with his new boss is less than stellar when a dog follows him into the building. It doesn’t help that Jon is good-looking and every once in a while Martin catches glimpses of a version of the Archivist without a stick up his ass. Like when he spends Martin’s ice cream birthday talking about emulsifiers. If only he would be clearer about what he actually wants from Martin. No report or follow-up seems to be good enough, even with the help of Tim and Sasha.

Martin works hard for Jon’s approval. He doesn’t know why he wants the recognition but it’s either this or quit and he really, really can’t quit. So he spends three full days looking for every woman named Angela over fifty in Bexley only to be berated for actually talking to one of them and then he offers to look into a case about spiders that clearly upsets Jon only to get trapped in his flat by a zombie worm woman.

When he finally escapes, he takes a few worm corpses with him and he dumps them on Jon’s desk while he’s in the middle of a statement. Let Jon try and disprove that When he gives his own statement he makes special emphasis on reminding Jon how hard he worked to meet his exacting standards. He refuses to be yelled at for this.

Except Jon believes him. More than believes him, in fact. He offers Martin a place to stay. Of course that would be enough to ignite a crush in Martin.

As soon as they get to document storage Martin sits on the cot and begins to cry with exhaustion. He expects Jon to leave but again he surprises him.

“I-it’s alright, Martin,” he says awkwardly as he pats Martin’s shoulder. “You’ll be safe here and I’m certain Elias will respond promptly to my request for extra security.”

“Thanks,” Martin sniffs. He can’t remember the last time he cried in front of another person.

“Would...would you like me to stay until you fall asleep? If- if you think it will help.”

“Oh, er...no...I’ll be fine, thank you. You should be getting home, anyway. It’s Saturday, Jon.”

Martin blacks out as soon as Jon shuts the door to document storage. When he wakes up he finds his crush on Jon stubbornly still in place.

He can’t help himself after that. He starts taking special care of Jon in hopes of encouraging the kind man he saw that night into emerging. At the very least Jon doesn’t yell at him as much and he even thanks Martin for the tea he brings. It’s then that he notices other things about Jon, like how rattled he gets by certain statements and how he’ll often go an entire day without eating or drinking anything unless someone brings him something. That someone being Martin. He also notices how late Jon leaves, if he leaves at all.

It’s on one such night of Jon still being in his office at 11 o’clock that Martin knocks on Jon’s office door.

“Jon?” He calls gently.

“Hzzmt! Martin?” Jon responds, having been startled awake from dozing at his desk. “You should be asleep.”

“And you should be home.”

“I see your point,” Jon sighs. “I’ll finish up here and head home. Unless you need something?”

“Actually….I-I was thinking,” Martin beings. “Since I sort of kicked you off your cot...D’you want to come back to document storage with me? You know, get some sleep?”

“What?”

“Er...forget I-”

“The cot would be rather cramped with both of us,” Jon warns as he gets up from his desk. “If...if you’re sure you want me to join you.”

“Yeah...I thought you had work to do?”

“It can wait until morning, no use keeping you up longer than necessary.”

Martin only half regrets offering to share a bed with his crush. Jon was right, the only way to fit both of them on the cot is for both of them to sleep on their sides (or for Jon to sleep on top of Martin but even the thought has his face burning) and it’s difficult for him to fall asleep with Jon’s back pressed against his. It’s good to hear Jon fall asleep, though, and as time wears on it’s easier for Martin to goad Jon away from work to sleep a few hours.

The more of himself Jon reveals the harder Martin falls for him. Especially after Jon accuses him of being a ghost during the Prentiss attack. Even with the guilt Martin feels every time he looks at Jon mummified in bandages. That was Martin’s fault. If he had just paid more attention then he wouldn’t have lost Jon and Tim in the tunnels. He does everything he can to try and make up for it; despite Jon becoming more and more closed off by the day. Intellectually, Martin knows that Jon has gotten like that with everyone, but something deep down makes Martin feel like it’s his fault Jon’s gotten so cold. It doesn’t help that Jon seems to have gotten friendly with the policewoman investigating the murder of the previous Archivist. Tim even seems to think they’re having an affair which does wonders for Martin’s self-esteem. Jon wouldn’t be the first straight man Martin has ever had a crush on but Martin was pretty sure Jon wasn’t straight. Again, he wonders if he’s done something wrong to push Jon away.

After Jon stumbles out of his office covered in blood claiming to have had an accident with a bread knife Martin finds all the excuse he needs to regularly drag Jon to the canteen to make sure he eats something. The silences during those lunches are hard. They had eaten together before but now Jon wasn’t talking to him. The most Martin could get out of him were a few one-word answers. He tries not to think about how it reminds him of his mum.

“So,” he tries for the millionth time while Jon picks at his sandwich. “Did I tell you what happened while you were at physical therapy the other day?”

Jon doesn’t say anything but he looks up with a gaze that bores into Martin.

“Uh...A little girl came in alone with a statement, she must’ve only been eight years old,” Martin says. Jon looks at him with an expression that almost seems afraid. “Don’t worry, it recorded fine on digital. She walked right down into the Archive, walked up to my desk, and said ‘Excuse me. My name is Beatrice Walker and I’d like to make a statement about a supernatural occurrence.’ She sounded so grown up and she refused to leave until I had recorded her statement. Turns out her dad was using the library for research and she had just wandered off.”

“What was her statement about?” Jon asks to Martin’s surprise.

“Oh, a hamster with mysteriously changing spots.”

“Ah,” Jon replies thoughtfully. “Not much need for follow-up there, I suppose.”

“Not unless you really need me to track down the shop where her parents picked up the new hamster.”

He catches the briefest of smirks from Jon before the conversation dies again.

After that Jon’s coldness and paranoia comes out in the form of a screaming accusation over letters Jon found in the trash. Martin barely manages to make it to the bathroom before he bursts into tears after coming clean about his CV. Tim thankfully doesn’t check on him while he silently curses his taste in men. Jon doesn’t meet his eye for the next week in what he bitterly hopes is guilt. He does seem slightly more willing to talk with Martin at lunch, though.

Then Jon goes missing. After trying to get Martin and Tim to go home early because Jon was feeling under the weather; he disappears. Not before apparently bludgeoning someone with a pipe and isn’t that exactly what he and Tim need to see as soon as they get back from a two-week kidnapping by a spooky door monster?

With Sasha gone, Jon missing, and Melanie King being suddenly hired by Elias, whatever’s left of Martin’s relationship with Tim deteriorates. More so when Martin becomes the only one in the world to believe Jon could be innocent. It’s probably that that makes the police detective “investigating” Jon so actively hostile toward him. Apparently, people say he and Jon are “close” and that probably only means the lunch thing but he wants to imagine it’s something more. Like people are somehow picking up that Jon likes him back.

When Jon comes back to confront Elias it’s all Martin can think to do to fall back on his tea-making. He ducks into Jon’s office with a piping cup of the overly sweet tea he spent months perfecting to Jon’s taste and finds him with his face buried in his one non-bandaged hand.

“Jon?” He calls as gently as he can while he closes the door behind him. “I brought you some tea.”

It’s when Jon looks up that Martin notices the bloody mess down the front of his shirt.

“You’re hurt. Let me go get the first aid-”

“No!” Jon interrupts frantically. “Just...Could you just stay with me for a moment?”

Martin acquiesces and they sit side by side on the sofa in Jon’s office in silence until Jon starts sniffling into his tea. He offers Jon a hug and Jon all but dives into his chest to cry. It’s the saddest most broken thing Martin has ever heard and it’s all he can do not to pull Jon into his lap and curl around him protectively.

“Martin...I-I...I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “For everything. For Sasha and Prentiss and...and for the way I treated you. You didn’t….no one deserves that.”

“None of that was your fault and I sort of deserved it. I didn’t actually know what I was doing.”

“You didn’t deserve it,” Jon insists before going back to quietly crying into Martin’s jumper. Martin doesn’t respond. He can’t recall the last time someone’s apologized to him. At least not like that. He’d been told off most of his life for not doing things up to people’s standards. A few people over the years had told him he didn’t deserve it but Jon was the first person to apologize. No wonder Martin was falling in love with him.

Damn it.

Cuddling doesn’t become a regular occurrence for them by any means but Jon begins doing more to seek Martin out after that. They eat lunch together more often and Martin stays up late to talk to Jon while he’s abroad. It drives home how deeply buried into Martin’s heart Jon has become. Especially after he comes back after going missing for a month and has the audacity to joke about being moisturized by a clown mannequin for a month.

He wonders if Jon feels the same way. Sometimes Jon will smile shyly at him, and he can almost believe that Jon would be interested in a relationship if the world wasn’t ending. The last time they speak before the Unknowing they’re in document storage.

“Are you ready?” Jon asks as he shifts nervously.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Martin signs. He heard what happened to Melanie. He knows what’s likely to happen to him. Some small part of him is screaming to just tell Jon his feelings like it’s the climax of an action movie.

“Stay safe,” Jon says.

“Come back,” Martin replies. Jon offers him a hug. It’s no movie kiss but it allows Martin to hold Jon as close as possible. Jon himself is hanging off of Martin’s neck and it feels like a final goodbye.

Then Elias confirms what Martin has always suspected deep down. That his mother never loved him or if there was a time when she did, she stopped when his father left. Even after everything. After he spent years taking care of her. After he had to quit school to care for her. All she ever saw was his father. All his transition did was to remind her further of how much he looked like his father’s son. At least it was worth it. To distract Elias so Melanie could find evidence to arrest him.

Then Peter Lukas shows up and reveals that Elias planned to get arrested. Worse than that, he offers Martin a promotion of sorts.

Then they get the news from Yarmouth. Tim’s body is found in a charred heap, Daisy is missing, and Jon is dead in all but brain activity. At least Basira is physically alive.

Martin spends as much time as he can next to Jon. He’s used to loving someone who can’t love him back. Maybe this is all he’s destined for. Love unrequited. He talks to Jon’s dreaming corpse. Tells him about his day, reads him poetry, even a statement, but nothing draws Jon out of his coma.

Then his mother dies. He barely has the emotional strength to mourn her. Instead, he scatters her ashes and mourns his childhood lost to trying impossibly to earn her love.

After the Flesh attacks, Martin makes a decision. He’ll join Lukas. It’ll probably lead to his death but what did that matter? His mother was gone and didn’t care about him anyway. Tim and Sasha were gone. Jon was basically gone. Basira and Melanie were the only people left that he vaguely cared about and by doing this he could at least protect them.

He visits Jon one last time in the hospital. He’s still covered in wires and his eyes still flit around violently behind his lids as Martin sits down next to him and takes his hand.

“Hey Jon,” he says quietly. “I...This is the last time I’m going to see you...Probably ever. I know, I know old dramatic Martin surely he’s exaggerating. I’m not. The Institute is in danger and...I have a way to keep Melanie and Basira a little safer, so I’m doing it. I just came by one last time to say...Jon, I...I love you. Goodbye.”

He gets up and presses a kiss on a part of Jon’s forehead not covered in wires before leaving. It’s alright that he doesn’t say it back. No one ever says it back to Martin.

When Jon wakes up everything becomes that much harder. Suddenly he had a reason to live and the way Jon pursues him makes him almost believe...No, even completing the thought would be dangerous for all of them. Jon trusts him enough not to be constantly badgering and that makes it worse. When Jon is there the Lonely makes Martin resent his presence and when Jon’s gone Martin resents his absence.

The final, most excruciating pain is when Jon comes after him in the Lonely. He’s excepted his fate in the chilling numbness of the Lonely. Maybe that’s why he says it. The certain, inevitable rejection would be numbed utterly. So he says it.

“I really loved you, you know?”

And Jon looks broken. Even after he rips Peter’s statement from him. Even when he reaches for Martin’s face with hands that seem far too warm and makes him See. Knowing Jon loves him isn’t like “knowing” his mother loves him. Instead of a lie born in Martin’s mind to stamp down the fear of rejection, it’s a reality pouring from Jon’s mind mingled with Jon’s fears of rejection.

Jon’s hands still feel too warm compared to the icy chill of the Lonely as he leads Martin out. Still, he refuses to let go all the way through the tunnels, the Institute, talking to Basira, packing at each other’s flats, and on to the train. The way to Daisy’s safe house feels like a blur and when they finally arrive it’s all Martin can do to remember to take off his binder before collapsing into bed with Jon’s warm arms around him.

He wakes to Jon’s quiet crying. The awful, stifled thing that breaks Martin’s heart.

“Jon,” he whispers.

“Martin? Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I’ll-”

“It’s alright, Jon,” he assures as he swaps their positions so Jon is tucked firmly against him. Jon makes another broken noise and Martin can’t stop himself from crying, too.

“I-I’m here, Martin. You aren’t on your own,” Jon soothes and Martin almost has to laugh. They lay crying and comforting each other until they both fall back asleep.

When they wake up properly they take stock of the safe house’s pantry and make a list of things to pick up in the village after breakfast. Martin gives in to the temptation to buy a new notebook to try and write poetry in. They have enough canned food to survive to the next ice age so they pick up perishable items like milk, bread, butter, and eggs. Jon also picks up fresh peaches and a box of Martin’s preferred tea. It’s easy to pretend like they going on a normal shopping trip as they walk up and down the aisles to check things off their list.

They return to the cabin and settle in. Martin sits on the sofa and tries to write out a poem while Jon tries to read a book from Daisy’s personal collection. After a while, Martin beings to feel Jon’s gaze on him.

“Is there something on my face?” He tries casually as he’s met with an expression he’s never been on the receiving end of.

“I was just thinking about how much I love you,” Jon sighs. Martin can’t stop the noise that comes out of him. All his life trying to earn love and Jon just says it while Martin’s thinking of a synonym for ‘yellow.’

“I-I don’t expect you to reciprocate,” Jon says quickly, his soft expression suddenly turning worried.

“But I do.”

“Oh…Oh!”

“Yeah.”

Jon starts giggling and it’s impossible for Martin not to follow suit until happy tears stream down both of their faces.

[queenofimagines]

Questions

Request: “can I get a jj x reader where y/n is being abused at home and jj finds out when he’s not suppose to. Y/n likes to hide it so when jj asks she denies. She comes up with lies and when jj tries to get the group involved they believe y/n’s lies. Jj tries to convince them but y:n breaks down and is denfensive at jj. But finally admit. Anyway I love ur work sm💜💜”

Warnings: Mentions of abuse. It’s kind of detailed in the beginning and even though it’s mostly just yelling and verbal fighting it can be triggering so please proceed with caution.

Waking up sore was definitely not how you planned your day to go. Every day since last Friday, it seemed, the aches in your body were getting worse and worse. The pain itself you could handle pretty easily, some pain killers in the morning and maybe a couple more throughout the day and you’d be set, what you really couldn’t stand was how you had come to be so sore.

It was an accident, honest to God. You went out with your friends and it had gotten late so you opted to have dinner with your friends. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, your father never cooked and your mother split when you were just a baby, so most nights you were left to fend for yourself. You had texted your father, letting him know that you would be out late but you had neglected to tell him you would be eating dinner with your friends on account of the fact that it just didn’t make sense to tell him, especially since he paid such little attention to you in the first place. So when you got home, stuffed with the free food that Kiara had convinced her parents to give you and the rest of the Pogues, to see your father sitting at the dinner table with what looked like a full meal for himself and half a sandwich for you, you knew that little good would come out of whatever you had just walked into.

“I got you a sandwich.” Was all he said. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. He hadn’t gotten you a sandwich, you knew him better than that. No, what happened was that he had only eaten half of his sandwich for lunch and had given you the other half after he realized he hadn’t thought to buy you something from whatever restaurant he decided stop by on his way home.

“Thanks. I’ll take it for lunch tomorrow.” You responded. You began making your way up to your room when his voice stopped you.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“No, I had dinner with my friends.” You braced yourself for the inevitable. You knew it was coming, the screaming, the insults. You had dealt with that on nearly a daily basis. On cue, your father slammed his fist into the table and began berating you about what an ungrateful child you were. About how he took care of you, clothed you, housed you, fed you. ‘Bullshit’ you wanted to say. None of what he said was true. You bought your own clothes with the money you made from the various odd jobs around town. You were the one who learned to cook so that you could scrape together just enough to get you through the day. And if it weren’t for your people skills and the money you were able to pull together, there wouldn’t even be a roof over your heads.

‘Whatever’ you thought. It didn’t matter, he would be done yelling soon and you could leave. But it didn't stop, not like it usually did. Today was just a bad day for him you guessed because it seemed like every move you made, every twitch and every glance, was somehow you showing him disrespect that he “didn’t deserve,” although you would have argued that he deserved much more than what you were giving him.

The panic really began to settle in when he began to move closer to you. Your father was prone to temper tantrums and you knew on days like this what would come next. You backed away the closer he came but soon found yourself trapped against the wall with nowhere to go. He reached you soon after, his hand enclosing around your throat and putting an uncomfortable amount of pressure on it before releasing you in order to hit you. First it was a slap to the face, then a punch to the gut that had you on the floor, then he began kicking you over and over and over again until you could see black spots in your vision and taste blood in your mouth.

‘Just a few more’ you kept telling yourself. How you wished you hadn’t. If you had stood up to him this time, if you had fought back, maybe you wouldn’t be laying in bed too sore to even sit up. If you had done something, anything, maybe the first thought in your head this morning wouldn’t have been about how to cover the bruises that were left on your skin.

As slowly as possible you sat up, gently moving your feet to the ground in order to stand and staying still for just a moment while your head stopped spinning. You definitely had a concussion, you concluded, but the only way to heal it would be with time. You slowly shuffled to your closet, grabbing a white long sleeved shirt and some capri shorts. Most of the bruises were along your torso, your limbs not bruising as easily with the exception of  your bicep up near your shoulder. After you changed you quickly made your way to the mirror to make sure everything was hidden, opening the blinds when you found the light in your room to be too dim, although opening the blinds didn’t do much since your window was facing another building. You used what little light you could get to do your makeup, using a color corrector under your foundation to hide the bruises that were forming along your jaw and neck.

“It’ll have to do.” You said to yourself after assessing your work, then making your way to the bathroom in order to grab some pain killers from the cabinet. You quickly located a bottle of pain killers you had gotten from CVS and popped the cap off only to find it empty.

“Fuck.” You groaned, a vague memory of you waking up in the middle of the night and downing the last two in the bottle hitting you. Sighing, you headed back to your room, grabbing your jacket before creeping downstairs and out your front door, relieved to see that your father’s truck was gone. Down the street you could see JJ already waiting for you. You did your best to adjust your pace so that the slight limp you had developed wouldn’t be so noticeable while also keeping up speed so as not to arouse any kind of suspicion.

“Hey babe, what’s with the shorts?” JJ asked. You didn’t usually where capri shorts, in fact, JJ was pretty sure that you hated them.

“Laundry day.” You answered, grabbing his hand and pulling him in the direction of the Chateau. You were thankful that JJ didn’t question it, instead changing the subject to whatever scheme the boys had cooked up the night before. You tried to listen to what he was saying but in all honestly, you just couldn’t stop thinking about how much pain you were in. For the entirety of your walk you told yourself that you could make it to the end of the day and after JJ dropped you off at your house like he always did, you could go to the store and get some kind of over the counter pain killer. But the pain was beginning to be too much. There was a Walgreens just ahead of you and you couldn’t resist the urge to go in and get anything to ease your pain.

“Hey JJ?” You asked, gently grabbing his attention.

“What’s up?” He answered.

“Can we go in for a second? I have some stuff I need to get.”

“Anything for you, my love.” JJ said, bowing towards you in an attempt to make you laugh, smiling when he pulled a light chuckle out of you. His happiness quickly turned into concern when he saw you wince and hold your stomach.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just um... period cramps.” You answered before ducking into the building. JJ almost believed you, key word almost. He knew your cramps got so bad sometimes that you couldn’t even get out of bed, but it was for that exact reason that he knew you were lying. JJ had your cycle memorized just so he could always be prepared for when your period started; the week before he would always stock up on snacks and make sure that the heating pad he kept at his place was always fully charged. JJ’s first thought was that he had forgotten, panic slowly rising in his throat, but he also had a gut feeling that that wasn’t the case. JJ checked his phone to settle his confusion and sure enough, your period wasn’t due to start for at least another couple of weeks. JJ followed you in, upset that you would rather lie to him than tell him something was wrong.

“What exactly is it you’re looking for?” JJ asked.

“Pain killers,” you answered.

“Why?”

“Like I said, cramps.” You had just turned down the first aid isle when you realized JJ was staring at you.

“Something wrong?” You asked.

“You’re not on your period.” You froze, mentally facepalming at how dumb of an excuse you had come up with. Of course JJ would have caught your lie, he had been so amazing whenever your period came around, always being prepared and willing to give you whatever you needed. You were hoping that JJ would have blamed his own carelessness on the matter, but what you didn’t know was that when it came to you, JJ always made a point to be deliberate with his actions.

You didn’t answer, not knowing what to say. Should you keep with the lie? Maybe say your period came early? Or should you come clean? But coming clean would mean telling JJ what really happened and you knew he would blame himself for it, even if he had nothing to do with it. Luckily, or maybe not so, you didn’t get the chance to respond.

“You’re in pain,” JJ took a step towards you. You almost took a step back but resisted the urge to last minute, memories of last Friday suddenly bombarding you. JJ slowly grabbed your hands.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked. You were surprised, having expected him to demand to know why you were hurt.

“My legs.” JJ raised an eyebrow at you, knowing that you were still hiding something.

“A-and my shoulders.” You didn’t dare look at him, afraid that you would break down if you did, instead deciding to fiddle with a piece of paper you had left in the pocket of your shorts.

“There’s more, isn’t there” It was more of a statement than a question but the way JJ said it, in an impossibly soft voice that he just knew you couldn’t say no to, made the thought of telling him all the places you were bruised seem less daunting.

“My torso kind of hurts too, and my jaw. Um, also my neck.” You whispered.

“Why?” Such a simple question, you thought, a simple inquiry that would be sure to break you both. You didn’t answer, eyes trained on the floor while you thought about how stupid it was for you to have believed that being honest with JJ about your pain was a good idea. You had kept it a secret for so long and in one moment of weakness you had jeopardized it. If you hadn’t been so weak, you thought, then maybe you could have avoided all this and just gone to the Chateau instead of being here practically breaking right in front of JJ.

JJ watched you chew your lip, seeing the conflict in your eyes and chastising himself for putting you in such a state of distress, but the pain he felt in that moment couldn’t compare to the pain he felt in the next. JJ saw the purplish bruises on your jaw and neck that were partially being hidden by your hair, the makeup you had used to cover it evidently being inadequate. It was enough to go unnoticed if people weren’t paying any particular attention but it wasn’t blended well in some places, making it easy to see the slight difference in pigment between the bruised and unbruised skin. By now JJ was shaking, gently holding your face so that you would look at him.

“Who did this to you?” His thumbs gently caressing your jaw. “Was it your dad?”

“No,” You slightly jerked away from his touch. “He would never do that JJ. I’m not being abused or anything I’m just clumsy that’s all. You know me, I never pay attention to where I’m going!” You laughed, hoping that it would be enough to make JJ believe you. He didn’t, not even for a second.

“Y/N if he’s hurting you, you have to tell me.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” you said, beginning to get defensive. “My dad isn’t hurting me JJ so stop with all the questions. And stop thinking that just because you’re my boyfriend means that I owe it to you to tell you.”

You were being harsh, you knew that, but you needed JJ to leave the subject alone and the only way you knew how was to get him to be angry at you. You hated it when JJ was mad at you but desperate times call for desperate measures.

JJ did let the subject slide on account of the fact that he knew if he kept talking he would definitely say something he would regret. He wasn’t going to let it go completely, though. If you weren’t going to tell him the truth then surely if he got the Pogues to intervene too, if he could somehow convince you that they were all on your side, then maybe you’d feel safer talking about it. What he didn’t understand is why you would be willing to protect someone who was causing you so much pain. He knew about your strained relationship with your father, that in and of itself already drained you so much, but your father physically hurting you was a whole other problem. Still, given how much you hated your father he didn’t know why you were protecting him, but that wasn’t what you were doing. In all honestly, you were ashamed that this was happening in the first place. You felt like you were a pretty independent and strong willed person and knowing that one man could render you so powerless made you feel weak. On top of that you felt like you were drained enough as it is, adding the fuss that you would have to deal with when your friends found out was just something that you didn’t think you had the energy to handle.

You quickly found some pain killers and paid, making your way towards the Chateau faster than you ever had. The walk with JJ had turned awkward and you felt like if you were with him alone for a second longer you would explode, so when you had crossed paths with Kiara and Pope you were glad to have someone else to break the tension. From then on it was smooth sailing for you, despite the fact that you spent almost the whole time avoiding JJ. You figured you were being subtle enough but the way JJ was practically glaring at you tipped the boys off.

“Hey, is something going on with you and Y/N?” Pope asked.

“Yeah it seems like she’s been avoiding you. Did you guys get into a fight or something?” John B added.

“I think Y/N is being abused.” JJ answered, not even bothering to sugar coat it.

“What?” Both Pope and John B spoke at the same time, eyes wide.

“She has bruises on her neck and jaw and earlier, before we came he, we stopped by Walgreens so she could get some pain meds. She lied and said she was on her period but it isn’t due for another couple of weeks.”

“Well, that could be anything JJ...” John B said, but it seemed like he was trying to convince himself as much as JJ.

“It’s not. I think I would know. We have to do something.”

“No, what we need is proof,” Pope spoke up. “Even if abuse seems like the likely reason for her bruises there's still a chance that it is something else. One of us could ask her.”

“Sure Pope, instead of helping my girlfriend, who just so happens to be one of your best friends, we should definitely just outright ask her if she’s being abused. She’ll be really eager to answer that honestly.”

“I meant that one of us should ask how she got the bruise. And unless you have a better idea I don’t see what else we could do.” JJ fell silent at that. He knew Pope was right, so the boys joined you, Sarah, and Kiara. The boys exchanged looks, trying to decide who would ask. JJ was already out of the question but they didn’t know if the question would sound more innocent coming from John B or Pope.

“Hey Y/N, what happened to your jaw?” Pope finally asked.

“Yeah, I thought your neck looked a little off too. You okay?

“Oh, yeah! You guys remember a couple days ago when I fell off the boat? Turns out I hit my chin pretty hard and it caused this ugly ass bruise to pop up. I tried to cover it but you know how crappy the lighting in my room is.” You laughed. Now that you had calmed down, lying came easy, and having had a couple of hours to prepare your answer made it all the more easier. Your friends seemed pretty convinced by your answer and you were satisfied that you had avoided the subject.

“What about your legs then?” JJ asked, pushing you. “And your torso, hm? What about those?”

“Uh, well we did do a lot of swimming-”

“No more than we usually do. Plus you’re on the swim team, you don’t get sore from swimming.”

“What are you implying JJ?”

“I’m implying that you’re not telling us the truth.” By now both you and JJ were on your feet and breathing heavily. You were angry and panicked that JJ was pushing you so far. JJ was desperate to help you and even if he was going about it the wrong way he didn’t know what else to do.

“Okay guys just calm down,” Sarah said, gently grabbing your arm and pulling you to sit, John B soon doing the same with JJ.

“Y/N is JJ right?” Kiara asked. You picked up the pillow that had fallen to the floor when you stood up, picking at a loose thread at one of the corners and refusing to answer. It had been a tough day already and right now you felt like you would break at any moment, but you were exhausted. Exhausted from fighting with JJ and from having to lie to your friends and completely defeated by the fact that this had become your life.

“Y-Yes,” You admitted, finally letting the tears fall. “He just- he just get’s so mad sometimes and he can’t control it and I get it because there’s no one else to take it b-but I don’t know what to do because I can’t leave, I have no where else to go.”

You were sobbing at this point, holding onto the pillow in your lap like a life line. JJ was the first to react, practically jumping over the coffee table to hold you. The rest of the Pogues soon followed, hugging you while their hearts broke more and more with each sob you emitted.

“You’re wrong,” John B spoke after a few moments. “You'll always have a place here.”

“I can’t just leave.” You responded, taking deep breathes to calm down.

“I know it’s hard,” JJ stated. “But we’ll be here for you okay? We’ll call Child Protective Services and sort this all out so you never have to see him again.”

“B-but what if they take me away? I don’t even know of any other family I have.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Kiara said, gently squeezing your hand. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Yeah. And anyway we could always bribe the officer.” Sarah agreed, trying to lighten the mood which caused you all to laugh.

“It’s settled then! You’ll stay here with me and JJ and tomorrow morning we’ll all go to your house together to grab your stuff, okay?” John be asked. You thought it over. This, this was your light at the end of the tunnel. An end to the constant fear you felt. You’d thought of a moment like this a million times over but each time you always figured that you’d have to refuse it. But now that you were here, faced with the decision, you knew you’d be an idiot to say no. A smile slowly spread across your face.

“Okay.”

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 13

A/N: Yes, this is another update since I fell behind. ENJOY!!! Back to our regularly scheduled program later this evening. 

December 6th

DeeDee swore off going out with her friends for a while. Phyllis was getting on her nerves and Beverly could only do so much. DeeDee didn’t even understand the hostility that was coming from her best friend. And now was not the time for her to be stressed out by shit she couldn’t control, like her best friend’s actions and reactions. So, it was time for a break and to focus on more important things, like her defense presentation. 

She had chosen her PowerPoint background weeks ago. She drafted her presentation outline weeks ago. But she hadn’t yet put any of it together, even with all the time she spent in the library. Then again, the last time she was studying there, she found Erik’s note.  

“Oh crap,” DeeDee grabbed her phone off the charger and saw multiple messages from him.

Prince Erik: Good morning Miss DeeDee

Prince Erik: I hope you have a good day and get some rest. You definitely need it. 😘

Prince Erik: Good night DeeDee

Prince Erik: Enjoy your day Miss DeeDee 

Including a voice message, “Damn.” 

VM: Sleeping Beauty

Do you know that you talk in your sleep? I learned quite a bit from you when you fell asleep mid-sentence last night. 

Don’t worry, I won’t hold any of it against you...unless that is what you really want. Then what the lady wants, the lady gets. 

I won’t tell you how long I stayed on the phone after you knocked out, but I’m sure that your phone probably died after I ended the call. 

Whenever you get up, hit me up. I have some questions for you, pretty lady. 

Later

After that eventful night out with Beverly and Phyllis, all she remembered was drunk dialing him, him answering the phone and then nothing else until she woke up late the next afternoon with a dead phone. She put it on the charger, but never checked any of her alerts and went right back to sleep until this morning.

DeeDee picked up her phone and went to her recording app. She didn’t want to flood his phone responding to his texts. And since he usually worked on weekends, she decided to send him a voice message instead. 

She walked over to her patio door, opened the curtains and sat down at her desk. DeeDee opened up her laptop and pulled up all the documents she would need. It was time to get to work. Less than 2 weeks until D-Day. 

---

Erik looked down at his phone for the umpteenth time that day and then walked the floor. It was weird, he hadn’t heard anything from DeeDee since he hung up on her Friday night. She was gone gone and yet, she still tried to talk to him. A sleepy drunk. He thought it was cute but he knew that hangover was gonna be a killer. 

He hoped that she was ok. He still sent his usual text messages but he also sent a voice one because she said somethings that had him thinking. And it is said that ‘a drunk mouth speaks a sober mind.’ If that holds true, DeeDee laid herself bare in the most beautiful way, and yet she may not remember any of it. What a shame.

Erik moved to stand by the window of his office, while DeeDee’s words took up residence in his mind. He stopped focusing on his weekly reports an hour ago. His impression of DeeDee and the reality that each day his feelings about her being the one for him became stronger and stronger, cradled her very words to him from the night before. 

A loud buzzing sound against his wooden desk, halted his wayward thoughts. He walked over and picked it up. It was a voice message from DeeDee. He unlocked his phone and opened it. 

VM: Greetings From Louisiana

Good morning Erik, 

I can’t believe you let me go to sleep on you the other night and didn’t say anything. Anyways, since I have no recollection of what I said, take it with a grain of salt. Please and thank you. 

Sorry for not responding to anything yesterday. I just slept the day away in recovery. Nothing stronger than wine for me for a while.

I do hope you are free to talk tonight. I may not have much time over the next week or so as I prepare my final presentation for my dissertation. But I really enjoy talking to you and don’t want to miss out. 

I’m probably rambling again. So, yeah. Just let me know if you have time and we can go from there.

Byeeee

Her voice always brought a smile to his face. He logged off his computer, grabbed his briefcase and locked up his office. He would have stayed there if she called, but since she didn’t, it gave him the perfect out. He could work from home and still talk to her until she needed to go. 

---

DeeDee had just finished putting her talking points into her presentation file, when her cell phone rang. Erik. He must have gotten her message. She saved the file and opened the application. 

“Hi Mr. Erik.”

“Hello Miss DeeDee.”

“I missed hearing that.” She said shyly. 

“Oh, you did? Could have fooled me.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? I’m not the one who said hi, some other stuff and then passed the hell out on the phone.” He shrugged even though she couldn’t see it. “I mean, I know I can put you to sleep, but that is not how I would do it.”

“You know what?” She started to laugh.

“What?”

“I can’t stand you.” 

“Uh huh.” His voice was calm. “Lie again Miss DeeDee.” 

“I’m not. I mean it.” DeeDee stomped her foot on the floor. 

Erik laughed, “If you say so. But I think you feel differently about me.”

“Sir, remember I do not know what I said. I don’t remember anything after calling you.”

“And slurring my name?”

DeeDee groans, “So, that did happen?”

“Heeeeeeey Erik,” he mimicked her tone. 

“Oh my god.” 

“It was cute though. It lets me know you were thinking of me even when you were completely out of it.”

“I promised to call you when I got home.” 

He paused, “You know what, you did honor my request to hear from you to let me know that you made it home safely.” 

“Exactly.”

“So, it seemed like you had a very fun evening.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t say that.” DeeDee sighed, “One of my best friends who seemed excited for me to look for you, is now acting really funny towards me and I don’t understand it.”

“Funny how?”

“Well, can I share something with you?”

“DeeDee, you know you don’t have to ask that. If you want to tell me anything, I will listen.”

“Thanks E.” She curled her legs under her in the desk chair. “Remember how I said that I knew my career would take me away? You know traveling and experiencing the world and such.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I haven’t told anyone that I have applied for tenure-track positions far away from Louisiana.” She exhaled deeply. “I got upset when she said that I would never leave here, among other things. But at that same time, it hit me that I never told them that I wanted to leave. So, they have just always assumed I would be around for whatever.”

“I see. So, what about your other friend who was with you both.”

“Oh, she’s fine. They both want me to live life, but she is the only one who appears to really support it. So, I know she will be fine when and if I do leave.”

“You mean, when you leave.”

“From your lips, to God’s ears. I have gone through many interviews, but the waiting game is a lot for me to deal with.”

“I understand that. But just focus on your defense. The full-time position will come.” 

“I know, and besides, there is always a postdoctoral fellowship too. And those look great on CVs.”

“Exactly. You can apply for one of those and work at another school until you find the school that fits you.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But Dr. O and Dr. Bell both think that I don’t have to worry and will get an offer my first time out.”

“I believe that, too. You are a bright woman, DeeDee. Any school would be lucky to have you.”

“Thank you, Erik.”

“You’re welcome.” Erik took a deep breath, “Speaking of Dr. Bell. I will be at her retirement party in a few weeks.”

“Really?” DeeDee squeaked into the phone, “I am so sorry that I keep yelling in your ear like that.”

“It’s ok. I knew to pull it away this time.”

“So, what does that mean?”

“Well, I was hoping that we could meet and you let me take you out while I’m in town. What do you say?”

“I would love that.”

“Good, so it’s a date?”

“It’s a date.” DeeDee giggled.

Taglist: @teakturn @ghostfacekill-monger @shaekingshitup @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @woahitslucyylu @ladymac82 @bugngiz @eyeknowmywrites @ajspencer1892 @arafatih @issimplyaamazinggg @tchallasbabymama @killmonger-fics @beautifullmelodyxx @raysunshine78 @fd-writes​ @ljstraightnochaser​

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Raise the Stakes, Part 7

Bit of a longer section this time... Don't forget to catch up by reading Place Your Bets and Parts 1-6 of this story, linked in the Master List. (Please forgive me for not posting every link separately just this once.) I'm basically writing this one around whatever is happening on Impact/ New Japan every week, so I know some of the timing is screwed up but I didn't expect that this was going to be picked up as a plotline while I was writing the damn story.

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC (referenced Jay White x OFC)

Word count: 3,206

Content advisory: graphic sexual content, cursing, vaguely stalker-ish behavior that some might find troubling

Impact is a weird place. At least, it seems weird compared to New Japan, where everything is scheduled and organized and planned. Impact seems like it’s always on the brink of disaster but the people who’ve been here a long time seem to enjoy it a little, the happy chaos that makes things unpredictable. Everyone can and does screw up occasionally, so the one thing that’s intolerable here is acting like you’re infallible.

Since you arrived to fill the newly created position of talent liaison between the two companies, you’ve realized how insanely hard you’ve been working for the last few years. You always knew you were doing too much but being at a place that runs so differently, you find yourself worrying that you’re not doing enough. A couple of times, you’ve started helping to move equipment to demonstrate that you’re working hard.

The more low-key atmosphere seems to make everyone friendlier, which means that it hasn’t been difficult for you to get along with people. You’ll join in when everyone goes to a bar, or out for dinner. But the whole time, you’re keeping an eye on him.

You’re not exactly clear on why David and Juice got sent back to Impact when there’s clearly no plan to use them immediately. On the other hand, it’s not like either of them is going to be part of a huge program back in Japan, so it’s probably just a nice gesture so that the guys can see their families and friends before they get featured on TV every week. The nice part for you is that Fin Juice are always brought in for rehearsals, tapings, meetings, all the things that you’re part of, even if they aren’t used on screen. Impact want to use them as much as they can.

You keep your distance. When he’d first seen you, he’d gotten in your face almost immediately, although he waited until there weren’t any witnesses.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed.

“I’m working for Impact now,” you’d answered coolly. “I guess you’re going to have to get used to having me around.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Maybe I just want to show a wider range of experience on my CV.” It was obvious that he didn’t believe a word you said, so you decided to drop all pretense. “I’m here because you’re here. Because I want to be close to you.”

“Well you’re shit out of luck there, sweetheart,” he snarled, “because I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

“I’m not going to get in your way or anything. If you don’t want to be around me, you don’t have to.”

“What sort of weird little game is it the two of you have going? Is he pissed because I haven’t told him that I’ll face him for his stupid title? Or is he just worried that I’ll beat him, again, and he thinks that sending you here is going to throw me off my game? Because I promise, I’m not falling into that trap again.”

“He has nothing to do with me being here,” you explained. “He didn’t even know I was moving. I came here for you.”

He sized you up, obviously still furious at having to be around you.

“Whatever he’s sent you here to do,” he growled, “I don’t care. Whatever we might have been before, we’re not friends, we’re not on good terms. I have no interest in being anywhere near you.”

“That’s fine,” you responded, voice weak with shame. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m just happy to be around you.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m serious. I know you don’t want anything to do with me. So just keep ignoring me. I’ll stay out of your way.”

Immediately, you could see that he was frustrated. He’d wanted to fight, maybe to tell you that you were wrong or that nothing could ever happen between you again. He hadn’t been prepared for you to just admit defeat and admit that you were so sad that you’d followed a man who couldn’t have cared less about your existence all this way.

Or perhaps he’d been angry because he sensed that you’d followed him here because you felt like he did care about you, that all the vitriol he’d spewed in your direction seemed like a cover for the fact that he had deep feelings for you, feelings that hadn’t been obliterated by seeing you back with Jay.

When you’re occupied, this feels like the exact job you wanted. When you went to Gedo and told him that you were going to quit, you’d made a calculated gamble. New Japan didn’t like to lose people and their fragile status because of the pandemic and the hiring of a new president made them all the more eager to hold on to the people they had.

At first, Gedo had just thought that there was a problem with you and Jay and had encouraged you to let it blow over. He hadn’t asked, although he was clearly curious. Everyone knew the man had an appetite for gossip. But as he’d listened to your reasoned case about your job and how you weren’t ever going to move on to something bigger and better, he’d come to agree, which was amazing since you hadn’t even given it much thought yourself until you’d sat down.

You’d been prepared to just quit and go back to the United States, to stake out Impact tapings and live dates if you had to, but Gedo had come up with a better solution. You would be the point person for New Japan with Impact and other American promotions. No one in Japan wanted to manage these things from a distance and the few American employees they had were occupied with the Los Angeles dojo.

You’d asked that you be the one to tell Jay that you were leaving, since you’d worked exclusively with him for so long. In the end, that had taken the form of a note you’d left him when you took off for the airport. You’d blocked him from your phone, from social media, everything. There was nothing wrong between you. There was nothing at all between you. Because if there was anything connecting you, Jay could find a way to get you to do what he wanted, to keep you captive the way you had been for years.

True to his word, David will have nothing to do with you. The other New Japan talents can work with you. If he needs anything, he sends his partner to work things out. You don’t push it because what you’re doing is already bordering on creepy. If you’re wrong and he really doesn’t feel anything for you, it’s well beyond creepy.

When you aren’t thinking about what kind of monster you are, though, the job is fun. It’s great meeting all the new people and, as bawdy and gross as they are, you get along especially well with Karl Anderson and Doc Gallows. They’re legends in Japan, so there’s a bit of a “rock star” aura about them for you. But they’re also just juvenile and dumb and sometimes, at the end of a long day, that can be very welcome.

Karl has been jokingly trying to grab your clipboard with all your notes from you throughout the day, and you’ve been telling him that he’s getting fined every time he does it. He walks by as if he’s not going to say anything at first but as he passes, he reaches back and grabs the clipboard. Your grip tightens immediately and you hug the board to your body. He isn’t even trying and you still need most of your strength to hold on.

The two of you struggle theatrically for a few moments, until he decides to surprise you by letting go. It unfortunately catches you a little too much by surprise and you accidentally smack yourself in the face, the metal clamp nailing you right underneath the eye.

“Oh my god!” Karl puts his hands on either side of your face, trying to get a look. “Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

He sounds legitimately mortified at the accident, which makes you laugh a little. You’re about to crack a joke at him when another voice cuts in.

“What the fuck? What happened?”

Out of nowhere, David Finlay is standing next to you like a chaperone, his eyes demanding an explanation.

“It’s fine,” you mumble, rubbing at your face a little. “Just an accident.”

David’s face flushes when he sees that everything is amiable. You pat Karl on the cheek and give a tough little smile.

“Good.” David grows visibly tense as he says that final word and quickly turns on his heel.

“Think someone has a crush on you,” Karl chuckles once he’s out of earshot.

You laugh but make a mental note. It’s not just you that thinks there’s something there.

This incident pushes you to be just a little bolder and so, when you realize that the both of you are going to be staying a bit later than others, you sneak out to the parking lot and move your car so that it’s close to David’s. It’s because you truly believe that there’s still some kind of unresolved tension between you. As you’re heading back to the building, though, you can’t help but think about how you’d feel if someone acted this way towards you.

The rest of the day, you make sure to stay well clear of Finlay. It isn’t that difficult but you still notice him a few times, popping up near where you are. Is he doing this on purpose? Is he watching you? Although you’re always aware of him in your peripheral vision, you don’t ever look directly to see if he’s got his eyes on you. Somehow, though, you can feel his gaze lingering.

You putter around after you’ve completed your work for the day so that you can accidentally run into him in the parking lot. You exit a few paces behind him and try to figure a way to get him to at least say a few words.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue,” you call as you turn towards your car.

He looks up, glaring, like he wants to start a fight. It’s possible that he does, but that would involve having to talk to you and he definitely doesn’t want to do that. So he just gives you a poisoned look.

“Can you give me something just this once? I’ve stayed away from you, I’ve given you all the space I possibly can. I make it easy for you to pretend like I don’t even exist. Would it absolutely kill you to acknowledge that you were worried about me for three-quarters of a second earlier?”

“Don’t know what difference it makes.”

“Maybe I’d just like the little ego boost?”

“Fine, then,” he grunts, refusing to meet your eyes. “I rushed over because I saw what I thought was someone getting hurt. Karl can be kind of hard to take sometimes and I was worried he was acting stupid.”

You smile just a little at the admission. The second he notices this, he continues.

“If I’d realized it was you, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

‘Could you please stop it?” You can feel tears gathering in your throat and you suspect he can hear it too. He turns to go without another word and for the first time since you’ve arrived here, you can’t just let him go.

“Wait!” You run up to him, grabbing hold of his arms. “I know that you hate me and that I probably deserve that. I know I deserve it. But can you just try being human with me for a second?”

He gives an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes.

“What do you want?”

He sounds so fed up that you lose your nerve and are reduced to a stammering mess as you try to figure out what you need to tell him.

“I think you did see that it was me who was with Anderson. I think that you came rushing over because you saw me get hit and despite everything, you were worried about me. I think that even though you hate me, there’s a part of you that… that doesn’t. And I want to know if I’m right.”

If he’s affected by what you’re saying, he’s giving you no sign.

“Think what you want. It doesn’t matter.”

He tries to pivot but you hold on to him, grabbing his wrists.

“Are you not even a little bit flattered to know a girl moved from another continent just so that she could be close enough to admire you from a distance?”

“Yeah, you’re not at much of a distance right now.”

“Am I that repugnant?”

His face grows darker and he grabs both your wrists, pushing you back against your own car. His lips flutter like he’s trying to decide which bits of bile to hit you with first. You wonder if the sensation of your bodies being close for the first time in months is having the same effect on him that it is on you. He’s certainly breathing heavily, his chest swelling against yours.

He appears ready to speak but the only word that tumbles from his lips is “Fuck.”

He pins your wrists against the car and presses his lips to yours. It’s not the wild, angry kiss you might have expected, either. It’s hesitant and soft but insistent. After a few moments of this, you loosens his hold on your wrists and you immediately run your hands up his biceps and grab hold of his shoulders. He tenses under your touch, so you can feel the bulge of the muscle there. He’s not carved like Jay, not close, but all that power and strength is still there, hidden just beneath the surface. Although it’s never occurred to you before, it feels intimate and intensely sexy.

The kisses continue, increasing in intensity with your lips opening a little, your tongues dipping into each other’s mouths, until you’re both practically tearing into each other, grinding your bodies against the side of your car. Clumsily, he reaches for the door handle and, realizing what he’s trying to do, you slide your hand over to complete the job. You have to separate momentarily so that you can open the door, but he doesn’t even give you the chance to utter a word, pushing you down on the back seat and climbing on top of you before picking up very much where you’d left off.

He mutters curses when he breaks for air, clamping his hands around your face, as if he had to hold you there, as if this wasn’t exactly what you want to be doing. You can feel the rigid outline of his erection against your thigh and you ease one hand over it, rubbing the palm of your hand along the length until he pushes back a little.

He continues to plant wet, angry kisses over your chest as he works to open the buttons of your shirt with remarkable dexterity. He frees your breasts from the cups of your bra, roughly rubbing them and sucking one nipple and then the other hard between his lips and teeth.

“Play with your tits,” he rasps, pushing himself up and grabbing his belt.

You’re happy to oblige, making a show of running your fingers around the aureole and over the nipple, making each one prick up even more, then licking your fingers before returning them to the tender little peaks.

He’s worked his cock free and strokes slowly, his eyes fixed on your chest as you do as you’re told. You try to get his attention on your face, at least momentarily, but he’s consciously avoiding eye contact. After a few minutes, he pushes your skirt up and pulls your panties down a little, increasing the speed of his hand as he stares at your wet pussy. He brings his tip close to your entrance, only to grimace and move back.

Worried that he’s about to run away despite the condition he’s in, you lean forward as much as you can, gently pushing his hand out of the way and replacing it with your own, guiding his engorged prick into your mouth. God, the sounds he makes, half-words and cries tumbling out of him in blind lust. Surreptitiously, you slide the rest of the way out of your underwear and run your hand over his thick thigh, tucking the panties carefully into the back pocket of his jeans. Let him find those a little later, when he’s questioning whether this was a good idea.

He begins to shudder a little but rather than finish in your mouth, he grabs a handful of your hair and shoves you back down on the seat. Once again, he pumps his cock, now shiny with saliva and precum, and once again, he’s taking pains not to look you in the eye.

“Touch yourself.” He nods at you and watches as you let one hand glide down your body, over your aching pussy.

The two of you continue like that, moaning as you both grow more excited. You hold yourself back a little, not wanting things to be over this quickly and also hoping that he’ll push inside you, the way you want so much.

“No,” he grunts, "Make yourself come.”

And so, a little begrudgingly, you increase the pressure on your clit, trying to keep your hand steady despite how slippery it is, watching as his movements grow faster as well. Just as you can feel yourself about to burst, you’re able to find his hand with yours, lacing your fingers through his. He doesn't resist. That contact is enough to pull you over the edge, and at the same moment, you feel the hot streams of his come hitting your chest as he gives a sort of ecstatic, pained cry.

You run your fingers through the mess on your skin, laughing softly. You have to use your shirt to wipe yourself off and as you do, you notice how ashamed he looks, turning his face as far away from you as he can.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I should have asked.”

“It’s fine.”

He doesn’t look reassured by this at all. He looks a little mortified, so you wrap your arm around his neck and pull him into a kiss. For a few seconds, he responds, eagerly even. But then he pulls back, shaking his head.

“No, I have to go, I can’t do this.”

“Can we at least talk?”

He shakes his head again and scrambles backward out of the car, refastening his pants as he does. He doesn’t even bother with the belt, just turns and walks away.

You crawl out of the car, clutching your shirt closed rather than lose the time it would take to do it up again.

“David, come on, we aren’t just going to pretend that didn’t happen.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for… I got a bit carried away. I’ll talk to you tomorrow or whatever.” He never even glances back.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

After the Bombs Fall [Animorphs ficlet]

[Note: I seem to have lost the ask where someone requested my post-war headcanon for Alloran, but anyway here it is.]

--

Less than a month after the end of the war, Alloran applies for transfer off of Earth and back to the homeworld.  When the first request gets cancelled due to a minor typo in a sub-section of a supplemental form, he curses himself and immediately applies again.

The second application lingers in the metaphorical z-space between agents for longer, nearly two Earth months, before it gets cancelled as well.  The systems are overtaxed due to the sudden influx of Earth tourism, the form letter tells him this time, and they’re very sorry for their inability to accommodate his request.

The third time he applies, the form remains “under review” on the submission portal for half a year, even though the review process normally takes less than a day.  So he applies a fourth time, a terrible suspicion taking hold by now.  The Electorate automatically cancels both applications, and has the gall to send him a snippy comm message asking that he refrain from filing redundant claims from now on.

The fifth application gets reviewed and cancelled; the sixth one doesn’t even get that courtesy.  It just stays there, “submitted” but not yet “under review,” unwanted and ignored.

Just like its author.

Alloran considers, then.  For nearly a day he paces, watching the andalite computer and the primitive human device alike, and weighs the merits of stealing Visser Three’s Blade ship out of the impound lot.  It wouldn’t be hard; the security system is coded to biometrics.  No one but he or Tom Berenson could fly that ship now, and Tom Berenson is dead.

After another day, Alloran instead morphs human and walks to the nearest CVS.

He has to swallow an entire jumbo bag of marshmallows and three jars of tomato sauce for comfort before he can swallow his pride as well.  But the comfort food does its trick, and at the end he pulls out the human cell phone still registered under one of Esplin 9466′s aliases and enters the fifth speed-dial option.

“Hey, you.”  Eva answers immediately.  “How’s it going?”

They don’t know each other, not really.  And yet in every one of their three conversations, Eva has greeted him like an old friend.  Her voice brings a reaction to Alloran’s human morph: tightness in his throat, the heat of tears behind his eyes.

“I apologize for troubling you,” Alloran says stiffly.  “Please, if you are busy, disregard this request.”

Eva snorts a laugh.  At least, Alloran thinks that that’s what the sound is.  “I’m not busy, and I owe you a favor anyway.  Shoot.”

Alloran glances around the room, but there are no weapons, so he decides to disregard that last.  “I am truly sorry if it slipped my mind,” he says, “but what favor do you owe?”

“My kid is not in jail on some foreign planet right now, and I hear that’s all your fault.  What’s the favor?”

“The War Council would not have imprisoned the Animorphs.  That is, perhaps Aximili and Prince Jake may have been imprisoned, but doubtless the full Electorate court would have proven merciful—”

“Alloran.  What’s the favor.”

He’s stalling, and she knows it.  “It’s a bit of a complicated political matter, and I’m afraid I am not well equipped to explain it to a human, but enforcement of our travel policies is more subject to individual agents’ personal judgment than we ideally would have it be, and...”

“Hijo de puta.  They’re not letting you go home, are they?”

Alloran fills his human lungs with more air than they technically need for speech.  “It’s a complicated matter.”  Nevertheless, his voice comes out small.

“You still camping at the Sharing Community Center?”

“Yes.”  His voice is even smaller now.

“I’ll be there in half an hour, querido.”  She hangs up.

While he waits, he goes outside to run, to graze, to stare up at the stars.

He didn’t lie; it is complicated.  The Andalite Electorate is struggling to recover from a decades-long war, one that threatened the existence of their very soul as a people.  Seerow’s mistakes — and Alloran’s own decision to publicize the failings of his prince — have ensured that the whole debacle was a massive embarrassment even before the defeat on the hork-bajir homeworld.

And then...

He’s heard the word, whispered and hissed and screamed and shouted.

Abomination.

Abomination.

His face is the public face of the Yeerk Empire.  His voice is its voice.  The morph he was just using — a bald, middle-aged human male — was constructed from the DNA of a dozen human-controllers.  Everything he owns, from the black limousine parked at the curb to the press pass of a woman called Aria, was taken from the hands of murdered slaves.

Of course his people don’t want him back.  Of course not.  The quantum virus was one thing, but then he had the gall go to and get himself captured by the yeerks.  And he’d added insult to injury when he’d challenged a captain on Aximili’s behalf.

He can see it.  That’s what stings.  He can stare up at the glittering point of his home star even as he runs across a field of dull foreign grass, and at this rate it’ll never be anything but a fixed point of light in an unfamiliar sky ever again.

Eva shows up then, before he can feel too sorry for himself.

She brings a human substance known as pinot noir.

**********

“And then...”  Eva points a wavering finger at him.  Her words have gotten blurrier over time.  “And then, we just sneak it in, and bam!”  She slaps the tabletop.

Alloran leans in across to her.  “Bam,” he agrees.

“You needed a ride home?”

At the new voice, Alloran stands up sharply.  Too sharply.  He gets his two flimsy little legs tangled in the chair and almost pitches over.

Marco catches him.  “You all right?” he asks.

“I,” Alloran intones, “am intoxicated.  Tox.  I.  Cate.  Ed.  Wonderful word.  Intock.  Sick.  Kate.  Dd-d-d-d-d.”

“Yeeeaah, I was getting those vibes from the—”  Marco leans around him in an impressive display of human balance.  “Bottle of wine apiece you two’ve apparently emptied.”

Eva draws herself up.  “I did not call and request a ride home, I called and requested a ride to the Netherlands!”

“You’re right, you did.”  Marco rolls his eyes.  “Which is why I made the decision to show up and bring you home instead.”

“No, no, the Netherlands.”  Eva steps up next to Alloran.  They both regard Marco carefully.  “Not to worry, we’ve thought it through.  You call your friend with the private plane, Bradley or Bradford or whomever his name is.  We fly out to the Hague tonight.”

“Where is this going,” Marco mutters.

“Holland,” Alloran informs him.  “It is-sssss in...”

“Yeah, I’ve been.”

“Anyway.”  Eva gestures sharply, bringing attention back to her.  “We shall have a perfectly ordinary canister of table salt with us, and we shall request to visit with Visser Three—”

“Oh Jesus.  Mom.”

“The guards will not suspect a thing, for it is just an ordinary condiment.  All we must then do is create a diversion, and...”  Eva flings out both hands as if miming an explosion.

“Splat,” Alloran says.  “Pllll-lat.  Hissssss.”

“And this will accomplish what, exactly?” Marco asks.

“Making Alloran feel better,” Eva whispers to him.  However, she seems to be whispering a great deal louder than she realizes.  Humans are ill-equipped for private communication, with their sad reliance on verbal speech.  “None of the andalites want him back.”

“Yeah.  Cool.”  Marco laughs.  “Ten out of ten therapists recommend war crimes for a friend in need!  And as a guy who’s been to at least ten therapists, I’d know.”

Alloran is not certain, but he believes that Marco might be employing the human verbal quirk known as “sarcasm.”

“No one will suspect a thing.”  Eva pats him on the shoulder.

Marco sighs.  “Security will just think it’s cocaine.”

“Cocaine?” Alloran asks.  “Coke-cane?  Co-c-c-c-c-c-c-aine?”

“Something you’re never going to try.”  Marco levels a hard stare at him.  “Given how well you handle your red wine.”

“Cooo-caaayyy-nnnee.  Co-cane.”

“How did you get wrapped up in this dumbass heist, anyway?”  Marco looks from one of them to the other.

“Alloran needed me,” Eva says.

“I have no friends,” Alloran announces.  “And Arbron does not own a cell phone.  Ell.  Elffffff-own.”

Marco closes his main eyes for several seconds, massaging the bridge of his nose.  An impressive feat of daring, for a creature with no stalk eyes who relies upon bipedalism.  “Should’ve known you’d be a morose drunk,” he says.

“So, you’ll take us to the airfield, then?” Eva asks.

Lifting his head up, Marco opens his eyes.  “In the words of my wise and estimable mother: if you want it that bad, you can have it when you’re sober.”

Eva opens her mouth halfway, squinting in what Alloran would guess is the effort of remembering when she would have said that.  After a second, her expression clears.  “I was right to say it, that floozy would have broken your heart in the morning, and this situation is entirely different!”

“That floozy’s name was Jake Gyllenhaal,” Marco mutters, “and I totally would’ve gone for it when I was sober, but I never got his number.”

Eva says something in Spanish, presumably about the loose morals of Jake Gyllenhaal.  Marco’s expression would suggest that he only pretends not to understand her.

“Anyway.  The point stands.  I’m driving you home.”  Marco jerks his chin at Eva.  “And you,” he says, looking at Alloran, “are gonna morph and sober up before we go anywhere.  I’m not having you nothlited on my conscience.”

“But,” Alloran says, “the salt—”

“We’ll revisit the salt in the morning,” Marco says firmly.  “Demorph.  Please.”

Alloran considers pointing out that he is a war-prince, he does not take orders from alien children, he has his pride... And then considers whether any of those statements is actually true.

He demorphs.

Instantly, he feels both better and worse.  On the upside he’s more clear-headed now, but on the downside he’s more clear-headed.

“I’ll call you.”  Marco gives him a long look while shepherding Eva out the door.

**********

Marco does not call, but he does send several written missives to Alloran’s cell phone.  The Animorphs still have an illegal andalite communication device, it would appear, and Marco has put in requests to channels both official and not about the possibility of transport from Earth to the homeworld.

     —Ax is on it, Marco’s latest text reads.  —He’s calling an old friend.  Might take some smuggling, but we’ve got an idea.

     —Thank you, Alloran types carefully on the tiny keyboard.  —Your assistance is greatly appreciated, and undeserved.

He’s debating whether to hit send when there’s a knock on the door.

Alloran’s in an abandoned building the Sharing used to use for housing human-controllers.  There is very little chance that this is an incidental knock, or someone who wandered by accidentally.

The thought occurs to him that it’d be smarter to morph human and blend in before he answers.  But the fear of facing the unknown in a half-blind, tailless morph wins out.  He opens the door as is.

It proves to be the right decision.  The andalite on the other side didn’t bother to morph either.

Estrid stares at him in silence for several seconds.  Her expression is unreadable, all eyes ahead and carefully blank.  Alloran doesn’t know what she’s looking for, but he lets her look.

«Estrid,» he says at last, when it’s clear she isn’t going to speak first.  He gestures with his tail blade, the downward sweep of greeting for an honored warrior.

«Father,» she says.

Her own sharp tail-turn puts the flat of her blade toward him.  A greeting between equals.  An insult.  Both not formal enough for an aristh to acknowledge a war-prince, and too formal for greeting a family member.

But then, Alloran went for Estrid, didn’t he.  Not Aristh Estrid-Corill-Darrath, not Estri-kala or my child.

They haven’t seen each other in over two years.  They haven’t spoken in almost twenty.

Arguably, given how young she was when he was taken, they’ve never really spoken at all.  Certainly Alloran knows little of the person his daughter has become as a young adult.  As a groundbreaking aristh.  As a brilliant researcher.

As a war criminal.

Humans have a saying, about apples that don’t fall far.

«How is Jahar?» Alloran says.  It’s what he really wants to know, and he doesn’t know how to approach any of the other minefields that lie between them.  «And Ajaht, how is he?»

Judging by Estrid’s expression, she takes this to be a standard small-talk opening instead of the deeply earnest inquiry it is.  «Mother is well enough.  I suppose you’ll have to apologize to her in person.»  She doesn’t mention her brother.

Alloran feels his tail blade drop nearly to the floor without his permission.  «Yes.  Of course.  Estrid...»

«I’m on a diplomatic mission to Earth,» she says briskly.  «Prince Aximili and I have concluded discussions with several local leaders about access to morphing technology and tourism restrictions going forward.  Therefore, I will be able to exit the planet and return home after being subject to nothing more rigorous than human security scans.»  The dismissive little flick of her tail at this last is, all things considered, somewhat warranted.  Humans have yet to devise a single effective way to detect morphers.

«Return home,» Alloran repeats.

Might take some smuggling, Marco said.  It’s sinking in: Estrid is here to bring him home.

Home.  To the wife he disgraced.  The brother he got killed.  The children who won’t even acknowledge him, a feverish pair of overachievers desperate to leave his legacy behind.  Ajaht’s tail-fighting is so legendary that, even using human channels, Alloran has been able to find scraps of news.  Estrid’s skill is not praised so publicly... but the yeerks got ahold of Arbat’s files, after their disastrous mission to Earth.  Alloran knows more about her, he thinks, than he ever wanted to.

«We’re leaving now,» Estrid says.  «My window for authorized exit ends in two-point-eight-six Earth hours, so we need to move.»

She must have been here for days if not weeks, to negotiate the way she’s describing.  And yet she came to find him at the last possible second.  Likely to minimize the time they’re forced to spend together.

Alloran doesn’t have the time or the energy to care.  «What would you prefer me to morph?»

«Something small and Earth-based.»  She barely finishes speaking before she starts to morph herself.

Alloran pauses in surprise, because Estrid morphs with shocking skill, melding from andalite to human in a mere forty-seven seconds, all without ever once losing her footing.  She even wears a normative amount of clothing when she’s finished, a sundress and sneakers and a coat overtop.

She sighs, looking him over.  «We don’t have all day, here.»

«You were wasted in Arbat’s lab,» Alloran says.

«You don’t have to tell me that,» Estrid snaps.  «Tell me, dear father, what else was a girl and a second-born and the child of a disgraced bloodline meant to do?»

Alloran has no answer.  Silently he morphs.

His options are limited — Visser Three overwhelmingly preferred large to small morphs, and Alloran hasn’t bothered acquiring much else — so he opts for snake, Lachesis muta according to a human-controller from the area.  It’s still larger than most Earth reptiles, but by coiling in close he becomes small enough to drop into the oversized pocket of Estrid’s jacket.

Estrid doesn’t speak to him, and he doesn’t ask her to, the entire way back to her fighter.  She’s under no obligation, and he won’t force the issue.

********

«We’re landing soon,» Estrid tells him, three Earth weeks and eighty-two light years later.  She’s maintained that icy formality throughout the entire journey so far, responding to Alloran’s questions — about her research, about her brother, about her morphing — with flat non-answers.

Alloran steps to the viewport to look out over the rolling grasslands of home like a child on his first in-atmosphere flight.  Is it home, really?  It’s been thirty-nine years since he left home to quell the small skirmish on the hork-bajir homeworld, forty-seven since his first offworld assignment serving under Prince Seerow.  He has seen a dozen planets, been a hundred species, since that time.  This body belonged to Visser Three for nearly as long as it did to Alloran himself, decades of nonexistence until he all but forgot his own name.

«What will you do next?» Alloran asks Estrid, still desperate for conversation.

She flicks a dismissive hand at the air.  «I have my work.»

«Even without Arbat?»

«I didn’t say it was easy.»

«And the quantum virus?»

She turns all four eyes on him.  A small part of him wants to scold her for bad form, but a far larger part of him recognizes he’d be overstepping.  «The quantum virus never happened,» she says sharply.  «And if it did, I was never informed of its existence.  This journey was my first visit to Earth, Arbat died in a lab accident, we were never involved in weapons development, and if you even think about saying differently the War Council will back my story, because all of the documentation —»

«Estrid.»  He cuts her off as gently as he can.  «I would never...»

He sees it, in the stiffening of her stalk eyes.  Hears it in the catch of her breath.  She doesn’t want a father.  Or if she does, she doesn’t want him.

«I would never dishonor the memory of my brother by raising questions about his death,» Alloran says instead.

Estrid relaxes, and turns back to the controls.

He is weary of war, weary of being alone.  The person he’d been when he first met Esplin 9466 would have been shouting by now, demanding to know what right Estrid has to consider herself any better than him.  He only deployed a quantum virus, had no hand in its evil creation.  Either she is a hypocrite... or she is just like the War Council officials who consider it a far worse crime to be enslaved by yeerks than to have murdered ten million hork-bajir.

It’s been a long war, and Alloran has missed her every moment of it.  Let her be angry; she’s here.

There is one more delicate question Alloran needs to ask, however, before they disembark on their family’s land.  «Jahar,» he says.  «I assume... She has found someone else.  To help raise you, and...»  Dark Sun, but this is hard.  «She deserves to be loved, of course.»

Eva’s mate remarried, after all.  Together they’d cried about that, somewhere between the third and fourth glasses of wine.

«Who would date her?» Estrid asks.  «Who would be seen speaking to her?  No.  There’s no one.  There hasn’t been.  There was me, and Ajaht, and that’s it.»

Alloran feels sadness and relief and disappointment and shame at his relief, all at once in a rush too complex to understand.  «I see,» he says at last.

«So go to her.»  Estrid yanks hard to unseal the fighter’s outer door; they’ve landed without his noticing.  «Go to her and—»  Another hard yank.  «Kriffing thing!»

Alloran puts his hand next to hers, pleasantly surprised when she doesn’t pull away.  As one they move, and the door comes open at last.

She came to meet them.  Alloran doesn’t know why he wasn’t expecting that, and yet...

Jahar is older, lined around the eyes and stooped in her shoulders and dull-edged around her hooves.  She’s radiant.  Transcendent.

Alloran is frozen.  Aware of all the knocks he’s taken, all the shine he’s lost.  Aware that they’ve been apart for longer than they ever were together.

He blames that last for the way his knees lock.  For the voice that freezes inside his mind, unable to form words.  For the crack in his breath and the painful squeeze of his hearts as she becomes the one to step forward.  As she raises a hand to his cheek, in the first gentle touch he’s felt in over twenty years.

--

[Note: I know that Aloth’s line in #38 about Estrid being Arbat’s niece — which would make her Alloran’s daughter — is probably not meant to be literal in context.  But the straightforward interpretation is boring, so I went with the fun one.]

[whereisten]

Creature Feature - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Preview | Taeil blurb

Summary: You work at your family’s 9-5 nighttime theater for the supernatural. Your fling with vampire!Taeyong is just that: a fling.

Pairing: Vampire!Taeyong x female reader

Word Count: 4.9k words

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Smut

Warnings: cursing, attempted suicide mention, death mention, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, penetration, cock warming

Part 3

[8:30 PM]

It was Saturday night. Your parents rewarded you with the weekend off and you caught up on some sleep and did some online shopping. You sat in your apartment in one of the many high rises in Downtown Mystic. You laid on the couch and scrolled through a webtoon on your tablet, kicking your legs like a lovesick schoolgirl. The latest chapter of the webcomic had you gushing. 

Your phone sounded off a text. You didn’t even have to check who it was.

Your parents were back for two weeks now and Yuta’s gifts did not cease. He was sneaky, you had to hand it to him. He somehow always knew when your parents weren’t around to drop things off at your office. It was a good thing he never figured out where you lived.

Day 1 (when your parents came back): The Tiffany necklace

Day 2: a $250 gift card to the Hand and Stone Massage and Facial Spa

Day 3: a Versace safety pin evening dress (he knew your measurements a little too well as it fit you like a glove)

Day 4: Godiva chocolate covered strawberries delivered to you every night before you left for work

…..It made your head spin to even go to Day 14. 

You didn’t use any of Yuta’s gift’s (except for the strawberries because those couldn’t go to waste and you planned to start up a payment plan with him when you kindly rejected him...AGAIN). 

Every time you tried to approach Yuta, though, you were always pulled in another direction by an employee at work. You were everyone’s go-to woman. Their emotional support only daughter. You couldn’t catch a break.

To hell with it, when you got back to work on Monday night, you would ignore everyone for 10 minutes and they would just have to accept it. You would find Yuta when he “stopped by to meet a friend” like he has for the past two weeks. 

Taeyong wasn’t around much either. You met up only a couple of times to French kiss like it was a contact sport but conveniently neither of you had time to be disappointed when you had to part. You both had lives to live. Separately. 

So, there you were, on Saturday night, feeling antsy with nothing to do now that you had to wait for the next chapter of True Beauty to update next week. You weren’t used to being free on a Saturday. It was a weird feeling. To no avail, you called up a couple of friends to see if they were down to go clubbing. You were always the designated driver so you thought they would jump at the chance to avoid paying for a Lyft. 

Alcohol only had a temporary effect on your body: hence, the dream designated driver. 99% human. You wished there was a name for the type of creature you were. Your parents were adamant that you were a human but you knew you stood out from the rest of that population. Your parents were never particularly fond of talking about your family history either so that did wonders for your anxiety.

Age 16

“But mom, how is that I can sense things? The other day at CVS I got change back from the cashier and I knew he wasn’t human. How does that make sense?” I asked.

“You were kissed by an angel, sweetheart. You were blessed with all sorts of quirky gifts. But you are a human: the purest of all of the creatures. Well, below angels. But we’re pretty close.” She replied, winking. I inherited humility from her, apparently.

Now that you were getting older...you were starting to have doubts about this whole “kissed by an angel” business. Why didn’t your mom have any of your abilities? It just didn’t add up. 

You could only hold on to the things you knew: you could understand any creature, you could identify any creature in disguise, your cuts from falls healed very quickly, you could manipulate your dreams, your alcohol tolerance was most impressive, and you had a powerful urge to be with a vampire. 

You missed the feel of Taeyong’s elegant fingers tracing against your thighs and moving dangerously close to your heat. His teasing was torturous but you enjoyed every second of it. You found yourself mimicking his movements to yourself and imagining he was there with you. 

You got off on fantasizing Taeyong on top of you on the couch but the euphoria didn’t last long.

You sighed. You felt really stupid for not sharing your phone number with him. 

 🎥

You thought about going to Target for the hell of it since you never had a chance to go. Your unusual schedule would usually lead you to groggily shop for groceries at 8 in the morning once in a while. You were elated to go at nighttime and kill a couple of hours browsing.

You chose to go makeup free and in an old university tee and yoga pants. It felt good not give a fuck about how you looked for a night. 

You headed over to Target and made a beeline for the Starbucks to get a frappuccino. You haven’t had one of them in months and you were close to the point of tears when you tasted the whipped cream again .

You moaned in happiness. “Yes.”

“I’ve heard that before,” a voice came from behind you. 

You jumped at hearing Taeyong’s voice. “AH!’

Taeyong chuckled when you turned around. “Stop! I could’ve dropped my frap.”

He was in a loose-fitting white tee and black jeans. They looked affordable but you knew that was not the case. He took the straw and drank some of your drink. “I would’ve bought you another one.”

You rolled your eyes. “Very charming. What are you doing here?” 

“It’s nice to see you, too, y/n,” he said, pecking your cheek and caressing it. 

You sighed. “Do you live around here?” This Target was down the street from your place. 

He shook his head. “I’ve been on the lookout for a video game for Doyoung. I’ve been to two Targets already.” Doyoung was one of Taeyong’s vampire pals. 

You frowned. “You should’ve called ahead and asked if they had it in stock.”

Taeyong’s eyes grew. “I did not realize that was an option.”

You laughed. “It’s cool. If you want, we can go to all of the Targets across town until we find Doyoung’s game.”

He smiled. “I’d like that.”

The third time was the charm as Taeyong found Doyoung’s game: Princess Peach & Pals 2. You high fived each other when you checked it out.

Taeyong asked, “I didn’t see you at Sinema yesterday. Are you okay?” 

You took his hand and squeezed it. “Got the weekend off.”

Taeyong looked happier than you did when your parents told you. “I’m glad. You really needed it.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s kind of weird not having any plans or someone knocking at my door asking for help with the claw machine.”

He chuckled because he helped you fix the claw machine a couple of times. “So you’re free, then?”

“Yup. Why? What were you thinking?”

He stepped back and wrapped his arms around you from behind. “Spend the night with me.”

You restrained yourself from yelling yes a hundred times. “Okay.”

Taeyong led you to the parking lot. He approached his motorcycle, a 2018 Suzuki. You stopped. How could you forget that he rode a motorcycle.

“y/n?” Taeyong asked as he pulled out two helmets. 

“You know what, how about I just take a Lyft over to your place? Gives you time to hide your snacks and your blood bags.” You avoided his stare.

He frowned. “Why?”

“I’m...I don’t do motorcycles.” You hugged yourself. 

You were scared, Taeyong realized. He never wanted you to be afraid. He tried his best to see to it that you would feel safe without him. He never wanted to cross a line that you drew. He thought the only way he could scare you was if he bit you. 

He thought wrong. 

“I’ll go slow, I promise,” he said as he hugged you again. 

You mumbled against his chest. “I don’t know…”

“You can trust me. I don’t live that far from here. It’ll be ten minutes, tops.”

You knew your fear was over-the-top but you couldn’t help it. So many maniacs were on the road. You could barely keep it together in your Corolla. But you were curious. You wanted to push the fear aside and be a little reckless. Taeyong wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Regardless of what your parents told you, vampires were strong and they protected their own. Taeyong regarded you as an equal. He’s said it multiple times. You were his friend and he would take care of you.

So what the hell?

“Okay,” you said, steadying your voice. 

He helped you secure your helmet. He did the same for himself. He got onto the bike. He nodded for you to get on. You wrapped your arms tightly around his abdomen. It was rock solid and you could feel his heartbeat accelerate. 

“Hey. Don’t let me distract you,” you teased.

He chuckled. “Even when you’re not around, love.”

You smacked his arm. “You’re so annoying.”

He laughed. “You ready?”

“Let’s go,” you said as you squeezed him tighter.

Taeyong enjoyed this more than you will ever know. He started up the bike and you moved at a decent speed out of the parking lot. Your heart rate was deceiving you and you knew Taeyong could feel it, too. 

You just let yourself feel what you felt and hoped that excitement would take over. And it did. 

When you got onto the main road, you cheered and laughed. You let yourself be free. For all of your life, you liked to think you had some freedom. At the root of it all, you were stuck in a lot of ways: family obligations, your career, and who you could marry, to name a few. But in this moment with Taeyong, you’ve never felt freer. 

🎥

Taeyong purchased one of the properties at a luxurious oceanfront hotel, Hotel La Mar. He lived on the top floor. 

“Make yourself at home,” he said. “I’m going to wash up.”

You marveled at the spacious apartment. The furniture was leather and the floor was a plush carpet. You could envision yourself curling on the floor. That’s how cozy the space felt.

The living room had a plasma screen TV with shelves and shelves of movies: everything you could think of.

Huh, a movie theater employee human hybrid (?) with a cinephile vampire lord. An interesting concept, you thought. You kept exploring and noticed that there weren’t many photographs around the space. There was one of Taeyong posing in front of the Eiffel Tower at night. Bold of him to break the rules overseas, you giggled to yourself. Another frame contained a visibly older photo. It was a picture of Taeyong and who you assumed were his family: his parents and his sister. You wondered when this was taken.

“1985,” Taeyong answered into your ear, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise.

You yelped.

He took the photo frame into his hands so you both could admire it. “This is my family. My mom, my dad, and my older sister Chaewon.”

1985? Taeyong looked exactly the same as he did in that picture. That must have been around the time he became a vampire, you thought.

“I turned a year after that,” he said. You noted the hesitance in his voice.

“Oh,” you said.

“When I was a human, I fell in love with a vampire.”

“Oh, so we’re going there...”

Taeyong took you out to the balcony so you could watch the night sky over the ocean.

“We don’t have to talk about it-“ He started.

“Are you kidding me?” You’ve been dying for more intel on this man.

He smiled amusingly at you. You were so curious and open with him. You were precious to him.

“I met Cleo when I was 22...She was older than me. I didn’t realize at the time just how much older. I worked at my father’s dojo over the summer after I graduated from college. I was going to get my master’s in architecture. I had everything going for me. I dated a few girls in college but I didn’t find someone I wanted to settle down with. I was...a bit of a hopeless romantic.”

Still are, you thought to yourself.

“I was closing the dojo one night when a couple of thugs broke in to rob the place. They were in the process of beating me to a pulp when Cleo and her friends came in and...took care of them.”

You understood that to mean they were sucked dry.

“She told me she’d been watching me for a while and didn’t know how to introduce herself. So that night was as good a time as any. I was shocked to see vampires for the first time. Once upon a time, the world you see every day at Sinema was a fairy tale for me.”

You figured as much. Not all vampires were born as vampires.

“But I couldn’t get Cleo out of my mind so soon I fell into that world. Never looking back.”

And that’s when you heard the regret in his voice.

“Cleo paraded me all over the supernatural parts of the country. She would take me to clubs. Introduce me to her friends. I moved in with her not even a month after we met. The first time she drank my blood...I didn’t expect the emotions to be so strong.”

The alarm bells rang off in your head.

“I was all hers after that, y/n. She bewitched me. I was at her beck and call. Nothing else mattered but how I could please her.”

You could see the pain in his eyes and how he avoided looking at you.

“That’s why...” You started.

Taeyong continued, “I can’t do that to you. It’s not worth the risk. My escorts? Those human women visited witches to give them the resistance from falling under a vampire’s spell. An attraction can grow, sure, but the intense devotion a human feels to a vampire is taboo now. Vampires don’t want to deal with what they would call collateral damage after having one night of unadulterated pleasure.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your heart hurt for the man before you. It wasn’t his fault that he was under Cleo’s spell. She manipulated him.

“But every now and then, a vampire just won’t care,” he said.

Which means this kind of abuse still went on to this day, you realized.

“After the first bite, I begged Cleo for more. She offered to do me one better and asked for me to join her on her travels around the world: as her vampire prince. Her words. Not mine.”

Taeyong sighed and rolled his eyes. “Looking back on it, it was bullshit. But the human me was...singing from the rooftops. I idolized that woman. She was the key to my happiness. I would follow her to the ends of the earth. And that I did.”

You thought about his family and his life.

“I was a vampire. I couldn’t live my human life anymore. I was devoted to Cleo and that was all that mattered. I gave up on my master’s. I told my parents I was getting married, traveling the world, and didn’t plan on coming back. I was mad at them, y/n. They told me I was a fool for throwing away my future for a woman who sucked me in and would spit me back out. I hated that they doubted me but even more that they doubted Cleo.”

“So you left...”

“I did and it didn’t take long for me to realize that my parents were right. I loved her unconditionally, knowing full well that she was preying on other humans like me, building an empire...well, a harem would be a more accurate term. Soon, I realized I was no longer her favorite and it was eating me up from the inside. I...couldn’t take it so I-“

You felt a sense of dread at what he was about to say next.

”I never even considered the possibility that I could end my addiction to her. I just thought of the quickest way to put me out of my misery. I planned to stab myself in the chest.”

You put your hand to your mouth. “Taeyong...I-“

He squeezed your hand. “It’s okay.”

“It’s a lot...Remembering your darkest days...I don’t want you to feel pressured to tell me everything,” you added as you traced your fingers against his knuckles.

He shook his head. “I want to share this with you.” His brown eyes shifted into bright a shade of blue, suddenly.

“Taeyong, your eyes...”

“They’re blue, aren’t they?”

“Yes but why?”

“I’ll explain. Someone saved me the day I wanted to end it all. Jaejoong. Jaejoong...is like a father to me. He talked me down and helped extract Cleo’s latches off of me. And with that, my memories of her were gone. The witch who helped us with this process was able to conserve pieces of my memories and I only had the nerve to access them recently...After I met you.”

“Taeyong...”

“I wanted to know why I couldn’t let myself bite you. Something inside me was holding me back. I wanted to drink from you so badly but you weren’t an escort. I knew the rules. About the damage that could be caused. But I wanted to understand the nagging feeling at the back of my mind. And accessing those memories again...my eyes turn blue as I reflect on the darkest time in my life.”

“Oh, Taeyong...” You sat curled up against him and held him tightly. “I’m so sorry.”

Taeyong tucked some of your hair back so he can cup your face. “Thank you for listening to me. I thought you would be running for the hills by now.”

“Everyone has their dark past. Granted, mine consists of a crappy ex-boyfriend but my point is that I really appreciate you telling me about yourself. I didn’t expect that.”

Taeyong sighed. “You know, the arrangement we have...”

“Yeah?”

“I like it. But...” He stared out at the sea.

“Go on,” you said as you kissed his neck.

“I don’t want to be just friends with you,” he almost whispered. You were close enough to his lips to hear every syllable clearly.

“I know...”

“You do?” He looked down at you as you played around with the fabric of his tee.

“You told me everything...Basically. I don’t think you did it without an agenda,” you said as you removed yourself off of him and looked into his eyes.

He rubbed his hands against your legs, wishing you’d worn shorts so he can feel your soft skin heat up at his touch. “What do you think?”

You were about to respond when his hands ran up to your butt and he squeezed it. “I...I think we’re ready to move up another level.”

He smiled. “Really?”

Before he went for your butt again, you got yourself up and straddled him. “Really.”

You kissed him deeply, begging his tongue to meet yours. Taeyong quickly reciprocated.

He cupped your face again. “You are so beautiful.”

“I know you mean that,” you said, realizing you looked like a struggling college student in your getup. He really liked you. He wouldn’t avoid your stare. He was happy.

The blue in his eyes vanished and it was back to his warm dreamy brown.

“You okay?” You asked.

“Never better,” he said as you pulled you closer to him. He always embraced you like it was his last time.

He was indeed a hopeless romantic.

“So...” You couldn’t get Cleo out of your mind, though. You wondered what she looked like and how she seduced Taeyong. At one point, Taeyong was in love with her without the enchantment of a vampire. You couldn’t help but wonder if he ever compared you to her. And just how much he remembered after the memory wipe. “Where is Cleo now?”

He cleared his throat. “She’s dead.”

There was a sense of dread again at the pit of your stomach. “How did she die?” You sat beside him again.

“Jaejoong...finished her,” he continued.

“...How?”

“When Cleo found out I had defected to another clan, she was furious,” he said.

“She came after you?” You asked, shocked she would care so much.

“It’s not that she cared,” he answered your thoughts again without realizing it. “It was a matter of pride for her. I was her property. And Jaejoong took it away from her.” That infuriated you.

Taeyong continued, “Jaejoong hid me away from her for a year. So I wouldn’t be tempted to go back to her. Even if her influence escaped me, she could easily lure me in again. I was weak, starved for love. For anything I could get from her after I left everything behind.”

“Taeyong...”

“In 1987, Jaejoong and Cleo faced off. She perished from a wooden bullet shot to the heart.”

You still had so much you wanted to ask. “How do you know she’s gone?” You blurted. You didn’t have a lot of remorse for the death of this woman, you understood.

He met your gaze. “Jaejoong brought me to her body.”

You waited for him to continue.

He said, “And we burned it, making sure no trace of her remained.”

He worried that you would see him differently upon hearing this.

But you understood. She was a monster that preyed upon innocent people and played with them like dispensable toys. You hated that someone could be so vile and tinker with the heart of the man you...

Liked.

“Wow,” you said, meekly.

“I know,” he said, “Jaejoong took in the lost boys of her clan and helped them become independent. Like he did with me. Now we pledge our loyalty to him.”

You wondered if Jaejoong was really as heroic of a man as Taeyong made him out to be.

🎥

You sat with Taeyong in the kitchen. You took some cake mix out from your shopping tote and asked him if you could bake it. “Mind if I use your kitchen?”

“Depends. What flavor is the cake?”

“Red velvet,” you answered.

“Only if I can lick the spoon,” he said as he helped pull out all of the supplies and ingredients.

As you mixed the cake mix with the other ingredients, Taeyong watched you.

You were something else. After telling you some of his darkest memories, you didn’t run off. You didn’t doubt him. You stayed. And for that, he would be eternally thankful.

“You can lick the spoon now,” you sang.

Taeyong creeped up from behind you, dipped his finger into the bowl, scooped some of the batter and ran it across your neck. You stood still.

He moved his finger dangerously slow across your neck and his tongue followed even more slowly behind. You moaned at his delicate touch.

“It tastes pretty good,” he whispered. You could feel his cock grow against your leg.

Taeyong held you from behind as you finished putting the mix into a pan. You laughed at how he clung to you like a koala.

The cake would take about half an hour to bake, which meant...

“Lead the way, Taeyong,” you said.

He scooped you up and he bolted to his bedroom. You laughed.

He tossed you on the plush California king bed and nearly pounced on top of you. You yelled and giggled like you were playing tag.

He kissed you hard as he laid against the bed frame. You pulled his shirt off. He did the same. You surprised him then.

“Where’s your bra?” He asked.

“I took it off when I went to the bathroom. I thought you noticed and that’s why we’re here now.”

“I mean, your nipples looked...”

You pulled him closer. “How do they look?” You lowered your voice.

“Pretty,” he said as he kissed you again. You pulled down his pants and cock greeted you.

Taeyong stood up on the bed as you kneeled down to greet his gorgeous length.

You grasped it hard and Taeyong grunted. “Does it feel good, baby?” You asked.

“Yes, love,” he said as he ran his fingers against your hair.

You took his length into your mouth and moved slowly back and forth, enjoying the taste of precum in your mouth and the sound of Taeyong’s moans. His length tickled the back of your throat. The discomfort was mild but you liked giving him blow jobs. So with practice, the pain became pleasure. You were getting wet at the thought of pleasuring him now.

“Feel me,” you said as you moved your eyes down to your panties. Taeyong put his hands down there and gently placed two fingers inside of you. He moaned again as you sucked faster.

You wanted Taeyong to know that you weren’t there to play with his heart. That was never what you wanted. You wanted to get to know him. And you didn’t want to keep lying to yourself. You were all in. And somehow, you would find a way to make it work.

Taeyong tugged tightly at your hair as he was on the verge of his climax. The thought of his climax aroused you ever further and felt the vibrations deep down in your belly. When he came, you found yourself soaked from him and yourself. You lathered up his cum. You fingered yourself and gave him a taste of your essence. You took all of his cum in and dragged your tongue up to his abdomen and met his lips. You kissed him.

He hugged you and wiped the sweat off of your forehead. “I love you.”

You exhaled like you held your breath for a long time. “I love you, too.”

He laid you down so he could pleasure you. He kissed you again and ran his hands up your thighs and forced them open. You gasped.

He greedily lathered up your cum. “You are exquisite.” He began running his index finger in and out of your clit. You started rocking back and forth.

He tsked. “Stay still, angel. Or I’m going to stop.”

You whined. “Meanie.”

He laughed his deep laugh and just the sound of that made you moan.

His unoccupied hand gripped your thigh tightly, squeezed your ass, and caressed you face. He liked watching you come undone under him. It kept awake sometimes when he was home alone.

He continued to finger you and you mewled when he inserted two fingers. You felt yourself building up again. You couldn’t help but rock back and forth. You wanted to climax.

“Taeyong, please,” you begged.

He smiled as he removed his fingers.

You whined even more. “Evil overlord, please.”

He pecked your lips. “Your wish is my command.”

He quickly inserted his cock and it hit you hard that you cried out. The pain quickly became pleasure as you both moved back and forth.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed. “I fucking love you.”

“I...love...you...” You managed to get out until you both released.

You both went for two more rounds before passing out on the bed. He held you as he covered you under the sheets. The timer went off for the cake.

You were about to get up but Taeyong pulled you back.

“It’ll cool. It’s okay. Just stay with me,” he said as he snuggled up against you.

“You’re so clingy,” you said as you laid your back against his front. He spooned you. His cock was in your ass. You’d wanted to do this with him for a while.

Taeyong was beaming. You were beside him now and neither of you was in a rush to leave. You could take your time and enjoy each other.

He moaned against your neck. “Are you hungry, though?”

You laughed. “I’m good.”

So you laid beside each other as the sun rose and slept for hours.

🎥

You stayed asleep but Taeyong’s phone rang. He slowly got up from bed and covered you with the sheets. You frowned in your sleep like you unconsciously knew he left your side. He laughed quietly as he took his phone off the nightstand.

He walked out of the room so as not to disturb you.

“Hey Jaejoong, how was South Africa?” He asked.

His leader chuckled over the phone. “Beautiful. The great white sharks were incredible. You have to come with me next time.”

“Are you back in the country?” Taeyong asked excitedly. Jaejoong was gone for a while on his travels.

“Yes. I landed today in Mystic.”

Taeyong replied, “That’s great. You have to come over for dinner. I’ll make your favorite chicken parm and you can drop off all of the souvenirs you bought for me.”

Jaejoong laughed. “I hope a keychain won’t disappoint you. How about I come over tonight? There’s something I wanted to talk about with you.” You noticed the shift in his tone.

“Is everything okay?” Taeyong asked.

“Yeah...They’ll be even better soon enough,” Jaejoong said.

To Be Continued in Part 4