#Working Holiday Permit

[credasmigrations]

A Comprehensive Guide to the Canada Working Holiday Visa

Start your transformation journey with our simple steps for getting the Canada Working Holiday Visa.

[alwaysxlarrie]

hii everyone !! i’m super excited to be doing this again ! i know i’m putting this out a bit later than usual in the holiday season, but hopefully the form being open for a bit longer than last year will help balance that out lol.

you can fill out this form if you’d like to receive a christmas / holiday card from me this year :)

friendly and important reminder that no one will see any personal information that you choose to enter on the form besides me. also! some things are the same as last years’ form but there are also a few new things i added. i’ll be shipping internationally + domestic. if anyone has any questions, feel free to dm me or send me an ask !!

(also yes i drew the banner myself i am artisté™️ thank u very much) (jk procreate is just a goddess that allows me to be adequate)

[zealandimmigration1]

[inc-immigrationnewscanada]

IEC 2023: Second Draw of The Year Sent 7,118 New Invites

International Experience Canada – IEC 2023: IEC 2023 sent 7,118 in the second round of invitation for the week ending January 20, 2023. 6,370 invitations were sent under the Working Holiday category of IEC. There are currently 22,114 candidates in Working Holiday pool from 32 countries. 398 invites went to Young Professional category and 350 to international Co-op (internship) category. Last…

[radioroxx]

ISAT SECRET SANTA !!

hihihi!! some of you may remember the interest check poll i made a few weeks ago. now that were getting closer to the holidays, its time to finally put this out.

(i encourage you to read through everything before signing up!)

what is secret santa? how does it work?

to summarize… each participant will receive the name of another participant, and be tasked with creating a gift for them. the catch is that the gift, and who its for, is intended to be a secret until the gift is given.

for this event specifically, i will be hosting it through a discord server to give me easier access / communication with all participants.

important dates

NOV 20 -> sign ups are closed! no more participants past this date will be allowed in

NOV 21 - NOV 22 -> gifts and participants will be distributed

NOV 23 -> buffer day. an extra day added for me to go through and make sure there werent any errors or changes needed to be made to the randomized assignments

DEC 15 -> progress check-in! (no actual progress required to be shown)

DEC 25 - JAN 1 -> posting week! gifts are revealed and given.

rules + extra notes

all gifts should be kept pg! be extremely mindful of what you include in your gift. additionally, sensitive topics / imagery should be limited to be safe

while i have no actual control over your actions, i encourage people not to spoil their gifts early. its more fun as a surprise!

ocs / aus are allowed to be worked with so long as there are ref sheets + enough information for your santa to work off of

joining the server is required for participation, to make things easier for me to work with.

should go without saying, but- the gifts you create are required to be your own original work. stolen or AI generated gifts are not permitted

have fun with your gifts!! there is no point if your are not having a good time :)

how to sign up?

TWO very important steps.

1. fill out the google form!!

make sure to fill in all required spaces!

2. join the server!

both steps are required for your to be added to the participant list! if i see youve completed one without the other (example- filled out the form, but havent joined the discord) i might reach out and poke you about it.

questions?

if you have any questions, you are free to ask me here!! or within the server itself, once youve signed up.

i! am very excited for this! hope you are too :)

[abbyromanoff]

hey babes 😏😏😏

LIKE MOB BOSSES CAROL AND VALKYRIE?! I HAVENT SEEN THE MARVELS HUT IM SEEING IT TOMORROW AND IM SO EXCITED BUT YEH AND MAYBE LIKE SOME JEALOUSY AND LIKE 😏😏😏 PUNISHMENTS AND SHIT

DOUBLE TROUBLE

PAIRINGS: CarolValkryie x reader

WORD COUNT: 679

WARNINGS: smut, double penetration, degrading, punishment, slapping, edging, overstimulation, threesomes, that’s abt it :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Reminder that this will be my last ever smut post!! Going forward I will not be writing smut so I apologize for those who did not get their asks answered

“No, I- I can’t,” You mumbled weakly, too tired to fight off the women surrounding you. Valkyrie was behind, her tip teasing the entrance of your tightest hole while Carol continued to slide in and out of your cunt. Her strap would rub her clit perfectly to cause just the right amount of friction, and her moans blended in with yours.

“Yes, you can, and you will.” Valkyrie groaned, seemingly tired of the ‘attitude’ you had been throwing towards both of them. Valkyrie wasn’t able to visit you and your girlfriend often, only when it was serious, and Carol had decided it was one of those times. You were nearing your period, and your hormones were spiraling like usual. Although, it was also the Holiday’s, and you had been missing both women, so you were in a worse mood than they could’ve expected.

“Look at that, baby, you’re taking Captain's cock so well,” You sniffled quietly, and they had to stifle a chuckle at your weakened expression.

“Don’t praise this little slut. They’ve been so, so naughty, it’s only fair we give them what they’ve been asking for.” Although it wasn’t at all what you were asking for. You wanted to be with the two women, between the two in a similar position as to how you are now. But you wanted to hear their soft praises on the shell of your ear. You wanted to feel their lips slowly moving down your neck and body. You wanted their hands to lovingly slide across your breasts, unlike the way they were groping you currently. You wanted to cum on their tongues, their fingers, their cocks; whatever it was they could give you. But you wanted them more than anything, and if this is what they were giving you, you wouldn’t dare to complain.

“Fuck, I’m already halfway, baby. You think you can take the rest of me, hm? You think this tight fucking ass can take Daddy’s cock?” You sniffled but lacked a response, causing a slap to arrive across your cheek. You whimpered, but quickly nodded without a thought, your mind barely registering what she asked.

“This must feel so fucking good, huh, darlin’? Having two cocks just destroying your holes, giving you no room to protest. This messy cunt seems to be betraying you when you say you don’t want this, little one.” Carol muttered close to your lips, quickly leaning down to take your bottom lip in her mouth as she bit down slightly, causing you to hiss in further pain. You didn’t know how much longer you could take, but you hoped they’d give in soon.

“C’mon, I know you want to cum for us,” She spoke once again, and you heard Valkyrie let out a deep groan as your skin touched the base of her strap. You shuttered, feeling both women deeper than ever before inside of you, the only hole left to fill was your mouth.

“Shh, just open, pretty girl.” You didn’t entirely understand what they meant, so you opened the barrier of your lips and spread your legs even further, both mumbling dirty praises in response. You felt two fingers thrusting into your mouth soon after, opening your eyes to see an arm from behind wrapping around to visit the said area. Her knuckles pressed against the sides of your cheeks, and you gagged as she forced herself impossibly deeper.

“I think this little slut likes having their holes filled, ‘cause they’re making a fucking mess.” You led your eyes down, quickly shutting them in shame as you admired the wetness leaking from you. You had never been this turned on, what were they doing to you?

“P’ease, Captain; please, D-daddy, let me cum f’ you.” In an instant you felt the two stilling inside of you, and it seemed they had wordlessly matched their arrivals as their moans seemed to bounce off each vibranium wall. This only brought you closer, and the dirty scent of sex filling the room only brought you further arousal.

“Cum for us, you dirty slut,”

[tojisun]

call of duty masterlist - 01

02 mlist; 03 mlist; series mlist

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all works belong to tojisun. all forms of reposting are not permitted; please do not translate, copy, revise and/or refine my works.

short legend:

❦︎ - nsfw

last updated: march 22, 2024

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- SIMON (GHOST) RILEY

sweet like cinnamon

right to heaven ❦︎

like a sugar rush ❦

in his favourite sundress

how he loves

little marks - suggestive

forehead kisses

cigarettes n kisses

like a sugar venom

teasin touches

just you and me - suggestive

cinnamon on my teeth

young and in love

liquid velvet on your tongue ❦

break me softly

glinting in the dark ❦

claim me softly and carnally ❦

lazy mornings

missin’ you

gon’ wife ‘er up ❦ - fan fave

she said what?

dirty talking and promises ❦

pull out- ❦

holiday special!!

coming back to you

cherry waves

the hottest

remember his hands - p link!! ❦

still your passenger

how he fucks ❦

anniversary of an uninteresting event

needy needy ❦

dark signs

distraction

strumming for you

marry me?

how it must be to date him (visuals)

giggles and love makin - suggestive ❦

his kinks ❦

cuteness and shyness

so drunk of you ❦

drag me under

his beautiful worship ❦

show him how desperate you can be ❦

open for a threesome ❦

tall people things

your ‘boyfriend’ [simon’s heart eyes]

caging you in ❦

jewelled eyes ❦

teaching you how to shotgun ❦

his jealousy burns

more than friends, less than lovers (but it’s getting there)

- JOHN PRICE

my precious wife ❦

pick up truck? pick up truck!

lap sittin n thigh humpin ❦

pretty puppy

leather and choking - p link!! ❦

tracing his hand

his loving touch

work song (hozier)

you love it like this ❦

- KONIG

my little sparkle - 01, 02 ❦

little prey ❦

sweaters and crushes

how he claims - p link!! ❦

he loves you like this - semi-dark

the silliest

- VALERIA GARZA

nothing to lose

her pretty little gf

trophy wife

doing her makeup

my wife

- JOHNNY (SOAP) MACTAVISH

a little louder ❦

wrapped in me

cherry pics plz ❦

- KEEGAN P RUSS

his princess ❦

all his ❦

- ALEJANDRO VARGAS

he's missed you

- KYLE (GAZ) GARRICK

the kind one ❦

- MULTI (COD)

the honest man - konig vs. simon (ghost) riley ❦︎

your little scarlet - simon (ghost) riley & john price ❦︎

took your life away - alejandro vargas vs. valeria garza

sharing is caring - tf 141 ❦

warming ‘em up - konig/(ghost) riley/(soap) mactavish ❦

sugar and cookies and crushes - price & soap

the cuckolding of simon - ghost/keegan

so wet for us - ghost/price ❦

his command - poly!141; price x reader x simon ❦

and when he leaves, it will feel like death - open character

- MULTI (OTHER)

slice of cherry pie - toji fushiguro/simon (ghost) riley

white lines pretty daddy - toji fushiguro/simon (ghost) riley ❦︎

tight bf shirts <3 - ghost/soap/gojo ❦

bundling him up in your warmth - ghost/toji/aizawa

sharing is caring - toji/ghost - suggestive ❦

how big? - ghost/toji ❦

how they taste - ghost/toji ❦

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𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 this is a completed masterlist (i reached 100 links LMAO) so pls refer to 02 & 03 mlists for the rest of oneshots and the series mlist for ongoing works ^v^ ୨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

[oompaloompadidu]

💥💥💥*explodes in your inbox *💥💥💥

AAAAH- HIII LOVE UR POSTS SO MUCH! CAN I ASK HEADCANONS AND MAYBE A SCENE FOR BEING FYODOR'S WIFE? THANK YOUU

💥💥💥*explodes out of your inbox*💥💥💥

FYODOR X WIFE READER

He loves playing his cello for you

sometimes, but just sometimes, he lets you play with his hair (only when he doesn't have to meet Nikolai because he'd be too annoying about it)

He taught you a lot of Russian recipes because he likes when you cook for him —sometimes you even get to convince him to cook with you

sometimes he ignores you on purpose sometu because when he does you sit on his lap to get his attention and things escalate fastly~

He lets you sit on his lap during meetings because he likes making people know you're his

No one NO ONE is allowed to say something bad about you.

he lets you try on all his clothes and even lets you mimic him

He's teaching you Russian since you always ask him to talk in Russian (his voice is so hot when he talks in that language-)

The first time you two slept together was when you managed to get him away from the PC he's been on for like four consecutive days without sleeping and he fell asleep with you

(He acts like he doesn't remember it but he does)

He bought a little house next to a river so that both of you can pass holidays there.

You're also friend with Nikolai since you know him well (he passes so much time at your place because of Fyodor)

Nikolai sometimes shows you and Fyodor some magic tricks

Fyodor loves when you pamper soft kisses all over his face

He doesn't really like long kisses but if you really want he'll accept it anyway

SCENE ONE

You're sitting on the sofa next to a window watching the sunset, a book on your lap. Your husband closed himself in his room to work. Again. Sometimes you wonder if he even has a clock in there, because he stays there silently working on the PC for hours, without even drinking. Does he need to drink? You still don't know when or if he needs to do what normal people should, since he doesn't do it and he's still fine. Still, you cannot permit him to miss such a nice sunset —or at least this is what you're going to tell him. You just want a little attention. You put away the book and walk up to his door, knocking. You don't really even wait for the answer and just open the door, to find him staring at the screen. "Fedy..." You walk up to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind. He raises his head a bit, putting a hand on your arm and looking at you with the same usual expressionless face. You whine "You've been ignoring me all day!..."

He stares at you for a few moments, then sigh "doll, you know I have a lot of work to finish"

You huff, feigning an annoyed tone "and so you can ignore your pretty wife and think it's okay?"

He almost laughs when he notices how much effort you're putting in trying to have his attention "ah, if it isn't maybe you should show me what you want me to do."

You smirk slightly when he say it, and turn around to sit on his lap, one leg at each of his side. You grab his hands and put them on your waist, smiling "you should do this," you say, then start kissing his neck "and maybe this as well."

He instinctively leans his head back to give you more access, his grip tightening slightly on your waist as you keep showering him of kisses all over. He suddenly lean in and bite your ear, grumbling "ah, you surely distracted me from work, princess. We can change room now."

SCENE TWO

You were trying to tidy up your room, but of course you got distracted finding all your husband's clothes. And, of course, you had to try them on. And, of course , you walked up to him to put on a fashion show. Actually, you were quite surprised when he allowed you to, and even clapped when you mimicked him. He talk you you were beautiful every time you tried one of his clothes that looked bad on you, and when you tried his fur hat he didn't even say "terrible" when you asked him how it looked on you. Maybe you actually softened him a little.

author note: hii I actually liked writing this even if I didn't expect to cuz I'm not really a Fyodor fan! I hope it's what you asked for! Feel free to ask more requests if you have any 💜

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Steve and Chrissy as two internet-famous chefs/bakers, Steve with a channel focusing on (not always) easy homemade and nutritious meals, Chrissy with a baking channel full of body positivity to spite her mom.

They both get invited to something like Phoning It In from the Try Guys - a baking/cooking competition where they have to guide the actual chefs only through a pay phone. As the TG's show says: "the mind of a chef paired with the hands of an idiot". And the idiots in question are their best friends - Robin and Eddie. Which shouldn't be that bad, but then...they actually have to swap them. And they can't tell them what they're making.

It's a holiday episode so the theme is gingerbread.

Steve is slumped in the phone booth, sometimes covering the receiver and asking Chrisy why, why would her best friend refuse to measure ingredients in anything more precise than "a bit", "a bit more", "kinda enough", "oooh might be a bit too much" and "a fuckton".

Chrissy tries very hard to explain to Robin that artistic expression is an amazing thing, but hot sauce and gingerbread might be too artistic for the judges. Robin disagrees. Chrissy pleads with her and eventually talks Robin into just including some chilli flakes in her batter and not the hot sauce as a topping.

Eddie spends half of the prep time complaining to Steve that a gingerbread house is lame, it should have been a gingerbread castle. Robin agrees.

Robin deciding to give her tiny gingerbread men flannel shirts and spending way too much on decorating them. She runs out of time very soon and just writes "THIS IS FLANEL" into a shirt-shaped blob.

Steve and Eddie shamelessly flirting despite having never met each other and then threatening violence in equal measure to get the other one do what they want. "I bet your eyes are more beautiful than the entire sky full of stars Stevie, also I might have dropped one extra spoon of spices into the gloopy thingy and I don't want to get my hands more dirty than they are so I'll just leave it in-" "Eds, you vile seductress, your voice could charm many a seaman but if you don't get that spicy glob out of the batter I swear I will shave your head."

Robin somehow going from following the instructions into a full rambling mode and before they know it, she's just cutting hipster-shaped gingerbread flanelmen and telling Chrissy nearly her full life story, basically turning the prep into a therapy session. Chrissy listens and nods and just sometimes interjects with "people can be such jerks just because you're different, can you just quickly check that the temperature is still the same? Thank you Robs, now back to that asshole in your uni class-"

In the end, they finally meet at the judging table and present their work, bullshitting their way through explanations of many choices that were made (because the two actual chefs are not permitted to speak, only the great minds).

Steve almost sobs when he sees piped (and very melted) bats on toothpicks around the gingerbread castle, because of course Eddie made a castle. "I meant for that to happen, for the shock value" he announces when one of the bats starts a domino effect and knocks down the rest.

Chrissy's smile gets a little bit stiff when she sees attempted man buns on the gingerbread men's heads - ones which have unfortunately melted and they now have flowing ponytails. Slightly burned.

Steve confidently claims that the reason why his gingerbread house is black and has spires is because his little brother adores Dungeons and Dragons and he wanted to give him a cool prop for the final encounter with the big evil. When the castle crumbles because Eddie didn't bake it long enough, Steve just dramatically stands up and announces that the evil warlock has been defeated. Eddie almost faints behind the screen and unceremoniously asks Robin if that gem of a man is taken.

Chrissy explains how the gingerbread men are wearing flanel in honor of her best friend's uncle who is the flanel overlord. When the judges bite into the figures and taste the chilli flakes, Chrissy earnestly tells them that Eddie's uncle is a man with hidden depths and spicy personality (Eddie chokes on his own tongue at that) and Robin was kind enough to reflect that.

In the end, it doesn't matter who won. Eddie asks Steve (after he tastes the gingerbread bat, gingerbat) if he's still about to shave his head and Steve says it would be a shame, but he can make it up to him by inviting him for coffee. Robin awkwardly thanks Chrissy for listening to her and Chrissy admits she loved her rambling, that she hates it when it's quiet.

It all ends well (except for the gingerbread).

[credasmigrations]

Australia Expands Working Holiday Visa Age Limit

Australia expands opportunities by extending the Working Holiday visa age limit to 35. Explore the benefits, economic impact, and practical considerations for a diverse and inclusive immigration experience.

[mp100secretspirit]

Welcome to the Mob Psycho 100 Secret Spirit 2024 Gift Exchange!

All right! The interest poll got enough engagement that we are doing this thing again! Woo-hoo!

Signups Open: October 8th Signups Close: Midnight EST October 22nd Assignments Sent Out: October 29th Check-In: December 1st Posting Period Begins: December 29th Assignments Due: Midnight EST on December 31st, 2023

Please check out the GUIDELINES AND FAQ under the cut!

Guidelines and FAQ:

What is the Secret Spirit Exchange: The MP100 Secret Spirit Exchange is an anonymous holiday gift exchange for the Mob Psycho 100 fandom!

Content Guidelines: Adult/minor pairings and incestuous content is absolutely not allowed. Additionally, since this is an all-ages exchange NSFW content is not permitted; please keep your shipping content PG-13!

What sort of prompts can I request? You can request up to three prompts, and they can be as general or specific as you would like! Prompts can focus on a character or group of characters, a relationship, a part of canon you would like to see explored, a specific scenario . . . really, whatever you want!

Can I request ship content? Yes, as long as it adheres to the content guidelines! However, we ask that at least one of your prompts be gen so your gift-giver has more options to work with.

Can I request AUs? Absolutely! However, we ask that at least one of your prompts be based on canon in case your gift-giver is unfamiliar with the AU in question.

How are assignments sent out? Assignments are sent via email, so please make sure the email you provide on the signup form will reach you! Assignments will include your recipient’s Tumblr url, their prompts, and any personal content guidelines they’ve provided.

I signed up, but I didn't receive an assignment! PLEASE CHECK YOUR SPAM FOLDER! Email clients love to eat exchange signups for some reason. If it's not there, message the mod!

What can I make for my gift? All kinds of fanworks are encouraged! You can write fic, make fanart, put together an AMV, write a song, or anything else you can think of! The only rules are that it must be your own work (no AI-generated content), it must be given over the internet (we cannot facilitate the delivery of in-person gifts), and it must adhere to the prompts and content guidelines provided by your recipient.

What if I have questions for my recipient? Remember, you have to be a secret spirit, so if you have any questions for your recipient, be sure to ask them on anon! If your recipient doesn’t accept anon messages or you have more general questions, send them to the mod, either on Tumblr or at mp100secretspirit@gmail.com

Do I need to show something for check-in? No, check-ins are just to remind you to be working on your piece! I know it's easy for exchanges to slip people's minds, so we're adding another reminder this year.

How do I post my work? Once we have reached the Posting Period, make a Tumblr post including your gift and tag your recipient! You may upload your gift elsewhere (for example AO3), but you still must make a Tumblr post with the link.

What if I have to drop out? If you do not think you can create a gift in the allotted time frame, we suggest that you do not sign up for the exchange. However, if something comes up and you need to drop out at a later date, please contact the mods ASAP! We need to make sure your recipient still receives a gift, so we appreciate as much warning as possible so we can make alternate arrangements.

What if I don’t receive anything by the end of the Posting Period? Message the mods!! We will double-check with your secret spirit, and if there is not a gift ready for you we will work with anyone who volunteered to fill in to ensure you get something!

[crappymixtape]

gold & glitter

REQUEST → @superblysubpar, A VERY MERRY MIXTAPE ❝ i’m thinking a little rich!steve harrington, a little spicy somethin, somethin and a holiday play – spicy is right, steve takes you to see the nutcracker, but you don’t even make it to the first act • 18+  | ( 3.1k – smut with a dash of fluff, rich!steve x reader )

G O L D & G L I T T E R 🎶 the nutcracker suite, tchaikovsky

“Good evening, Mister Harrington. Miss. May I take your jackets?”

“Thank you, Charles. Did you order the MacCallan Anniversary malt?”

“Of course, sir. It is available neat here from your decanter or we can dress up however you like. Miss, your jacket?”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you opened them again expecting the finery before you to disappear into thin air like a dream, but it didn’t.

“Oh ye-yeah. I mean-yes. Yes, thank you,” you stumbled over your words as the waitstaff took your coat and disappeared behind the curtain. God, you were working overtime to maintain the same level of calm and collected sophistication that seemed to come so easily to your date.

Steve Harrington. Son of John Harrington and heir to the Harrington fortune. One with a foundation built by generations of brokers and wealth managers. Carried on throughout the years to be passed down to the eldest or, in Steve’s case, the only son.

You’d been together for over a year now, but you still weren’t used to it. This lifestyle.

Going anywhere with him meant multiple planned routes in and out of your destinations. Private cars with dark tinted, bullet-proof windows. Black American Express cards, Gucci loafers, and champagne flown direct from the Garonne Valley in Bordeaux, France.

And of course, at Christmastime, a viewing of George Balanchine's The Nutcracker from a private balcony, performed by only the finest troupe at the New York City Ballet.

You’d been to the theatre, the opera, but never like this. A suite all to yourselves, up and away from prying eyes, and upon each seat rested a pair of exquisitely golden opera binoculars for your viewing pleasure. It felt otherworldly. Lush and dark, gilded and polished. Long, red, crushed velvet curtains draped heavy to the floor and on a small table thick, crystalline tumblers sat next to a matching decanter full of only the finest single malt whiskey.

Lifting a hand, you ghosted an immaculately manicured finger around the rim of one of the glasses.

“Is it up to your standards, honey?”

The low, warmth of Steve’s voice broke your trance and pulled your gaze quick to look up at him.

“What?” you wondered aloud, still surprised at how he could ask such questions, “My standards? God. It’s beautiful.”

“Good. M’glad you like it.”

A smile tugged up at the corner of his mouth as he watched you walk to lean out over the balcony and look down at the sea of seats below. You were wearing the emerald green dress he’d bought you especially for the occasion. Made of the finest silk and fitted tight against every curve and dip of your body. Your hair swept long over one shoulder, soft skin exposed through the keyhole cut into the back. You were exquisite.

And you were all his.

Tucking a hand into the pocket of his slacks he reluctantly looked away from you and took up the decanter to pour a measure of whiskey for himself. MacCallan, single malt, from 1928 and around three-hundred thousand dollars a bottle. Lifting the tumbler he inhaled deeply and let his eyes drift shut. Worth every single penny.

“Charles,” his voice notched up in volume and the man from earlier appeared through the thick, velvet curtains.

“Sir?”

“A bottle of Dom and a chilled glass,” Steve took a drink from his whiskey and let it sit on a his tongue for a moment before swallowing it down. “Oh, and my cigar case.”

“Sir, you know smoking isn’t permitted–”

Steve hummed, a low thrum in his throat, and stepped forward toward the other man.

“How much do I pay for these seats, Charles? How much does my family pay for these seats? Since the theatre opened in 1964…I’ll let you do the math,” he took another sip of whiskey and lifted a hand to smooth down the other man’s cravat, “My cigar case.”

“Yes. Of course, Mister Harrington,” the man replied quietly, eyes glued to the cheap, shiny black plastic of his dress shoes.

Steve put on a smile, the one he gave to clients when he knew he’d closed an account, and gripped the man’s shoulder, “Good man.”

And without another word Charles was off again through the curtain.

There was no denying it, Steve’s presence always held weight. Held power. No one could tell him no. Stood in boardrooms dressed to the nines. Gold heirloom cufflinks, custom tailored jackets and Tucci de Lusso oxfords included, but this version of him was different. Somehow more and you didn’t know how it was possible.

Brunette locks perfectly coiffed. Custom black Armani suit fitted tight across his chest and shoulders. Gold signet ring with his initials engraved upon it shining up from his index finger, and damn if his ass didn’t look incredible in those slacks.

You clicked your tongue at him and fixed him with a look, closing the gap between the two of you.

“Babe, he’s just trying to enforce the house rules,” smoothing a hand up his chest, you pretended to adjust his tie as an excuse to touch him.

“Honey, you and I both know who makes the rules around here,” he drawled, his tone making you weak in the knees, and he set his glass down in favor of taking hold of your waist. His hand wide and warm on the small of your back as he ran it down the curve of your ass and squeezed, pulling a gasp from your lips.

“Steve,” you chided, no heat behind it, and he dipped down to press a kiss to your neck.

“This really is your color,” he whispered in your ear and your eyes fluttered at the sound. Pressed your thighs together as he traced a finger across your exposed collarbone. Warmth blooming in your core as he followed the hem that chased along the edge of your shoulder.

“You’ve got good taste,” you whispered back, swallowing the moan that had crept up your throat and he grinned.

“I do, don’t I.”

“Sir, your cigar cas–oh!”

Charles came back through the curtain to find the two of you pressed into each other, Steve’s nose buried in the crook of your neck. Your cheeks burned at being caught.

“My sincerest apologies, sir! I should’ve–”

“S’alright,” Steve chuckled, pulling away from you to casually take the case from the other man without missing a beat. He reached into his money clip and slipped a hundred dollar bill into Charles’ hand, “Now. That will be all. If I need anything, I’ll ring you.” The finality of his words hung in the air.

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Excuse me,” and with that Charles disappeared again for what you were certain, after all that, would be the last time.

“Shit,” you breathed, cheeks still bright red as you bit back a laugh.

Steve was laughing too, but no where near embarrassed, and he grabbed your hand to pull you close to his chest again as the theatre lights flickered and slowly dimmed.

“Mmm, damn. Showtime,” he murmured softly into your hair.

You felt your stomach drop at the thought of having to sit so still, and so far from Steve for three hours, but then another thought came to you. One that made your cheeks flush again and you pressed your face into his lapel, breathing in the citrusy, cedar scent of his cologne.

Pulling away just enough to meet his gaze the expression you maintained was innocent, but the look in your eye wasn’t. It was dark and needy. Warm and flickering at the feeling of his hands on your waist.

“We could freshen up first,” you suggested quietly and as Steve put your words together his pupils blew wide. Pools of black edged in gold and he squeezed at the plush of your hip.

“Uh-huh,” came out strangled and it was all he could manage. Unable to focus on anything other than rucking that silk dress up around your thighs, and without hesitation he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the thick, velvet curtains.

The corridor was empty, Charles hiding wherever he’d rushed off to, and everyone else was in their seats to catch the opening act as Steve led you the short distance down the hall.

Luckily for you, the neighboring balcony’s ticket holders had filed for bankruptcy earlier in the year and now the restrooms on this wing were exclusively Steve’s. Doors crafted from thick oak and etched with breathtaking carvings of Swan Lake and Slyphide, they were heavy enough to drown out anything happening on the other side.

Thank god.

Ignoring the men’s and women’s signs, Steve chose the closest door and shouldered into it, bicep straining against the tight fabric of his shirt as he held muscled it open. It was a hurried mess, both of you tripping into the room on the train of your dress in a fit of giggles as Steve huffed a laugh and cursed under his breath.

“Baby.”

Heels clicking on the white granite tile floor, you regained your footing and finally took in all the exquisite details of the ornate room. Wide marble slabs. Bottles of lotion and perfume that cost more than your mortage. Gold fixtures shining in the low light falling from crystal chandeliers that refracted bright shards of color against the walls.

You would have appreciated the incredible beauty of it all, but Steve. You couldn’t have cared less and neither could he.

He spun you around to face him and hooked his arms behind the backs of your legs. Scooped you up off the ground and pulled a squeal from you as you held on tight around his neck to steady yourself.

Squeezing his hold on you, he freed an arm and swept it across the counter. Knocked the soap dish clattering into the sink basin and paid absolutely no attention to the lush basket of designer hand towels that fell to the floor as he lifted you with ease onto the marble surface.

“Steve,” you protested weakly and when he notched himself between your legs you felt yourself melt under him.

His hands were everywhere. Your waist, the small of your back, fingers pressing into your cheek and pushing your hair over your shoulder to drag messy, open-mouthed kisses against the skin there. It pulled a moan from your lips and at the sound he groaned into you.

“Christ, babe. I’ve wanted to get my hands on you since you climbed into the limo. Pretty as a fuckin’ picture in this thing. So damn hot. All for me, huh?”

“S’always for you,” you half-laughed, but it caught in your throat as he slipped a hand between your thighs, “God, Steve.”

“This for me too, honey?”

He gathered a handful of emerald green silk in one hand and pooled it at your waist as the cool air of the room sent a shiver up your spine. Then he caught sight of the black lace panties hugging tight against you and sucked in a breath. Bit down on his bottom lip and looked like he might cry.

“You’re gonna kill me with these. Are you kiddin’ me? Baby. Look at this,” he babbled, just standing there not touching you and you grabbed hold of his wrist and tugged him back into you.

“Talk too much,” you murmured against his ear, running a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck and dragging your nails against his skin, “It’s all yours…Mister Harrington.”

And fuck if the dress and panties weren’t enough, the sound of your voice wrapped around his name did him in.

“Damn right it is.”

He growled as you tugged on his hair, slipped his hand back between your legs and tugged the thin fabric of your panties aside. The way he had been kissing and talking at you out on the balcony had been plenty to send you pressing your thighs together, but the way he was handling you in here had you soaked.

His fingers slipped in your slick as he felt just how wet you were and he smirked against your skin as he dragged his lips up to your jawline. Tutting softly he slowly circled your clit, his other hand moving to wrap gently around the column of your throat.

“Bet you want me to talk now, huh honey? You want that? Talk dirty to you?” his voice was barely above a whisper as his fingers slid down to press against your entrance.

You swallowed against the hand he had on your throat, your lips dropping open into a perfect little ‘o’ as you squirmed against the counter, impatient for him.

“Uh-huh,” you breathed and he smirked at how he had you wrapped around his finger, literally as he slid one into you.

“That’s my girl. I know what you like, don’t I? Give you everything you need. Take care of you, hm?” he babbled, kissing and sucking at the hollow behind your ear as he began to slide his finger in and out, in and out. A slow drag at first before adding a second finger and pulling a moan from your lips.

“Good care of me,” fell out mindlessly as he gently tightened the hand on your throat making your heartbeat thud in your ears.

“This isn’t enough though, is it? Not enough. Want me to fill you up, don’t you honey?” he whispered and you nodded, your throat too tight to speak, and god you wanted him to make you see stars.

He pulled his hand from between your legs to undo the button on his pants and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes at the loss of his touch.

“Shh, I got you, baby,” he coaxed, pulling down his zipper and reaching in to free his rock hard cock.

It sprang out of his pants without any encouragement and he wrapped a hand around it. Rubbed it against your slit as it practically cried in anticipation and as he slowly pushed himself into you it made you sucked in a rasp of a breath.

“Steve,” you begged and he moved his hand to grip your thigh.

“I know, baby.”

An inch more and he was into you up to the hilt. Filling you so much that you could feel the tip pressing against the spot only he could reach. Easing out he groaned as you clenched down on him before pushing back in and he set the pace there. A slow drag. In, out. In, out.

The wet sounds coming from you as he fucked you slowly were obscene. Made louder by the empty room, but you didn’t care. You wanted more.

“Harder,” you pleaded. He wanted it too and as he looked down at the sight of his cock sliding into your cunt he nearly lost it.

Letting go of your throat he grabbed onto your other thigh for purchase and pulled you to the very edge of the counter. Picked up the pace and started fucking you faster, the slap, slap, slap of his thighs against yours filling the air.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Feel so good. You like that? Huh? Want more?”

“More–shit. Yes, god. More, Steve.”

Your knuckles were white with how hard you were gripping the counter, moans falling freely from your lips now as Steve pushed you both closer and closer to climax. You could feel the coil tightening in your stomach as he squeezed into the plush of your thighs and your hand flew up to grab at the back of his neck.

“Gonna–ugh–come, baby. Come with me, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, jaw ticking when he clenched down, and as he rocked his hips back into you, you both came.

Your orgasm wrapped around you tight. White hot. Electric. Every inch of you buzzing and sparking like fireworks on the fourth of July and you cried out as his thrusts fell out of sync, jerky and messy as he came down.

A soft thud echoed against the tile as your head fell back against the mirror behind you, beads of sweat holding your hair messy across your forehead. Steve leaned into you, rested his head on your chest, and slowly your breaths evened out.

Your lips twitched with a smile, your hand lifting to cover your mouth as you held back a laugh, and Steve seemed to have the same thought as he chuckled against your dress.

“Someone heard us. For sure,” you finally said, voice crackly from breathing so hard.

“And? Who gives a shit. Maybe we just gave them a good idea,” Steve grinned, looking up at you from where he rested his chin on your belly.

You swatted at him, gasping as he pulled out of you to avoid getting hit.

Bending down, Steve grabbed a couple of the hand towels from where they’d landed on the tile and ran warm water on them. Quickly cleaned himself up and then took his time with you. Paid close attention to where he’d held onto your throat. Where his fingertips pressed into your thighs. Dabbed softly across your forehead and spent extra time on the mess between your legs.

You touched up your makeup and perfume, adjusted Steve's tie and hair, and when you both finally emerged from the bathroom the piece the orchestra was playing reached a crescendo and the theatre filled with applause.

It couldn’t be the end of the first act?

Steve walked you easy back to the balcony and held the heavy velvet curtain open for you. Your gilded opera binoculars were still sitting perfectly upon your seat where you’d left them and the bottle of chilled Dom Perignon was on ice along with a champagne flute – you hated whiskey.

You both sank into your seats as the orchestra began to play again and you recognized the piece and shot Steve a look.

“The party scene just started,” you whispered, “We’re not even out of the first part of act one.”

“Christ,” he groaned, grinning into his hands as he rubbed them across his face. Then, glancing over at you he grabbed his cigar box, “We can always make up for it next year. Right?”

Your eyes grew wide.

“Skip the Nutcracker?” you asked incredulously and he quirked a brow at you.

“Yeah. Skip it and we’ll go catch part two of the bathroom scene at mine,” he said giving you a wicked grin and you feigned shock, your own grin threatening to shatter your facade.

“Mister Harrington, what would your mother say?”

And the look he gave you then was the absolute definition of smug.

“My Stevie boy always gets what he wants.”

And damn if she wasn’t right about that.

[inc-immigrationnewscanada]

First IEC 2023 Rounds Of Invitations Sent 11,490 New Invites

First IEC 2023 Rounds Of Invitations Sent 11,490 New Invites

International Experience Canada – IEC 2023 Open Pools: IEC 2023 sent 11,490 invitations in the first round of invitation to applicants for the week of January 9, 2023. 9,774 invitations were sent under the Working Holiday category of IEC. There are currently 23,425 candidates in Working Holiday pool from different countries. This article enlist the Countries with invitations issued as of…

[atimeofyourlife]

Steve loved people easily. Too easily. He thought there was something wrong with him, because no one ever seemed to love him back in the same way.

The first time he loved anyone was his parents. It was the natural, unconditional love that a child would hold for their parents. Even from a young age, he would do anything he could to make them happy, make them proud. For the first few years, it seemed to work. His mother would show him off to her friends, who would coo over how adorable he was. His father would brag to his associates about how good Steve was, how he would grow up to be strong, athletic, smart. Occasionally, he'd be left with a babysitter, or his grandparents, for a weekend if his parents had to attend a conference, but it wasn't enough for him to feel left behind.

That changed shortly after he turned four. His parents decided he was old enough to be left with nannies most of the time, so they could travel whenever to fit the needs of the business. Even when they were home, which was often little more than a week out of each month, most of the childcare was passed off to the nannies. They didn't seem to care enough to talk about, or even to him anymore. Any attempt he made to show them love was met with "Not now, Steven," or "Don't be so childish, Steven." And as he got older, they cared less and less. After he turned nine, they decided he was old enough to look after himself outside of that one week each month, only having the housekeeper checking in on him twice a week when cleaning the house and restocking the groceries. By the time he was twelve, the amount of time they were home had dropped to one week every two months, and they started missing holidays, coming home two days after Thanksgiving, and then not being home again until well into the new year. He was thirteen the first time they forgot his birthday.

Once he'd turned fifteen and got his learner's permit, they cut the housekeeper. He was more than old enough to take care of the house on his own, and as he could drive, he could get the groceries himself. They'd leave money each time they were home, a little over what was enough for the two months of groceries. A few days before they were due home, they'd call with a list of groceries they expected to be stocked by the time they got back. They actually remembered his sixteenth birthday, buying him a brand new BMW to replace the small second-hand black car they'd got for him to learn to drive in. But they missed the date by six weeks.

At eighteen, he only saw or heard from them if there was something they weren't happy about. Like his poor grades, or not getting into college. They didn't bother to acknowledge his graduation, taking the attitude that it didn't matter as he wasn't going to be making anything of himself. They made him get a job to cover his own expenses, believing that he needed to take life seriously if he wanted their help. They didn't even make the time to come home after hearing he'd been injured in the mall fire. Just leaving him a message saying that they'd give him a two-month grace period before he would be expected to find another job.

He hadn't even reached nineteen the last time he heard from them. After the earthquake he got a call, not to find out if he was injured, just to find out if the house was ok. A couple of days after that, they called again to inform him that they'd found a new house and movers would be coming in to collect the rest of their belongings. They'd wanted to sell the house, but the property market in Hawkins was nearly impossible after everything that had happened, so they were going to sign it over to him. It was after the movers had left Steve realized, they hadn't even left a forwarding address or their new number.

------

Steve loved each of his babysitters and nannies until he realized that they were being paid to take care of him. They gave him a love and attention that he didn't receive from his parents. They cared enough to let him ramble about his day. They spent enough time with him to know his likes and dislikes. To keep track of his hobbies. They were the ones to look after him when he was sick or injured, to comfort him after a bad dream. They would see when he needed new clothes, either from wearing through or growing out of his old ones.

But they were temporary. They only loved and cared about him for as long as they were getting paid to. Two or three times a year, a new nanny would take the place of the old one. He was seven when he realized that they didn't actually care about him, they only cared about getting paid. Overhearing one talking on the phone, "This kid is a bit too clingy, but at least the pay is good for this family." Once he was old enough to be left alone, he missed the companionship of having a nanny, but he couldn't bring himself to miss the false love they brought.

------

As soon as Steve met Tommy and Carol, they meant everything to him. Meeting Tommy at age six, and Carol two years later, when she moved to Hawkins at age eight. He clung to them, the first people his age that seemed to return his love for them. And it was all good, at least while they were young. They spent most of the time together, with each of them inviting Steve over at least once a week. Bringing him into their families, giving Steve a chance to see how bad his own was.

Steve couldn't see it at first, but the friendship between him, Tommy, and Carol became less about the love they had for each other, and more about the love they had for what he could provide. When they were eleven, they realized that Steve having the house to himself most of the time meant that they had somewhere to escape from supervision, and to get away with doing whatever they wanted. As they got older, it meant they had a place where they could have sex without being caught by their parents, siblings, or the police. They loved that he would feed them, always having the best snacks, learning how to cook their favorite meals, giving them food off his lunch tray at school. Once they started high school, they loved the empty house for the ability to throw the biggest parties, securing them top spots on the Hawkins High social ladder. After Steve had received his car, they loved the free rides, basically treating him as a taxi service. His car was much nicer than anything either of them could afford, and gave them a taste of freedom as long as they could give to them.

Steve noticed it after his fight with Jonathan. When they cared more about getting even than how Steve felt. They'd wanted to get revenge on Nancy, framing it as them helping Steve, rather than finding out what Steve actually needed them to do. Wanting to get back at Jonathan instead of being concerned about how Steve was after the fight. Steve couldn't help mourning the friendship, as they had meant so much to him for so long. But he couldn't believe how long it had taken him to realise that they had stopped loving him, and instead loved what he could give to them.

------

He fell in love with Nancy hard and fast. She was beautiful and smart, ambitious and determined. He didn't care what his friends thought of the relationship, he just wanted to make it work. He tried to find ways to bring her into his world, trying to include her in plans with his friends, inviting her to parties. Then Barb went missing from his yard. He knew he handled it poorly, but he felt lost on what he could actually do. Paired with the uncertainty of what his parents would do upon hearing about it, and the encouragement from Tommy and Carol, it pushed him to do things he later regretted.

He apologized, and she accepted it. They got back together a month after the Upside Down happened, just in time for Christmas. He vowed to himself that he would do better, be better for her. He made her happiness his top priority. He used small surprises to cheer her up, little gifts and imaginative dates. He comforted her through the sadness, grief, and guilt, making himself available whenever she needed him. He supported her in the difficult moments, like going to regular dinners with Barb's parents. And he found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with her. She seemed to hold the same love for him, so he didn't feel wrong for daydreaming about a future together. A family together. Every word of love from her, every action that showed her interest, it cemented it a little more. She would show up to the pool while he was lifeguarding over the summer, with the excuse of bringing Holly, but really just staring at him while he was on duty, and chatting during his breaks. She would be at every basketball game, every baseball game, every swim meet. For the first time in his life, he consistently had someone to cheer him on in the stands. Despite the difficulties they'd had, Steve felt like nothing could bring them down.

Then it crashed and burned. Steve genuinely didn't see any issue with the relationship, any sign that the love was unrequited, until his heart was being ripped out and shattered on the bathroom floor of Tina's Halloween party. His head spun with the words. "Like we're in love," and "You're bullshit." He started questioning himself, how long had she felt like that? Had she ever loved him? How had he never noticed? He got Jonathan to take her home, feeling hurt but with the love and care he had for her, he wanted to make sure she got home safe. He tried to isolate himself from her, not picking her up for school. But she wanted to talk while he was in gym. Pinning the problems on him. Denying the words she said while drunk, refusing to take responsibility for them. Not even being able to lie and say she loved him. It was like a knife to the chest finding out from Tommy that she'd run off with Jonathan after less than a day. He still tried to make it right, showing up at her house to apologize, for her not to be home. When everyone finally grouped together, seeing her with Jonathan, the confirmation he hadn't wanted. Nancy looked at Jonathan with a love and adoration that Steve had never seen directed at him. If it weren't for the fight needed for the Upside Down, he would've isolated himself and broken down, wondering why he wasn't good enough. Why he was unloveable.

------

Having a younger brother figure thrust on him wasn't something Steve expected at seventeen, but he would be eternally grateful. Dustin burst into his life at possibly the best time for him. After Nancy broke his heart, he needed somewhere for the love to go. He gave advice, was a listening ear. Doing what he could to help build Dustin's confidence. He was there for the kid whenever he was needed. And Dustin gave him so much in return. A place where he could take himself less seriously, where he didn't need to be Steve Harrington, or King Steve, or 'The Hair'. He could just be Steve, with no expectations or strings attached. Dustin showed up to his graduation, was there to cheer and clap for him when no one else was, and singlehandedly organised the other kids into surprising Steve after. With a grocery store cake that they'd pooled their money to buy, and a handmade card that they'd all signed. He'd missed him like crazy while he was away at camp. And having him back after improved his mood so much, despite being thrown into the Russians.

Steve could feel it changing slowly. Right from the first mention of Eddie Munson and Hellfire Club. He knew he was being replaced as the older brother friend, being swapped out for someone Dustin considered cooler because of the shared love of D&D. Dustin had become more abrasive to him, and was spending less and less time around. It almost felt like a repeat of losing the love of Tommy and Carol, only being wanted when he was useful, for what he could provide. Even after the fight with Vecna, Eddie was still the preferred older brother friend. The one Dustin sought for rides and advice, only coming to Steve if Eddie wasn't available. Dustin had endless patience for Eddie's questions, despite not extending Steve the same courtesy. He never once insulted Eddie's intelligence, despite the fact that the man took three years and a shady government department intervening to complete his senior year of high school, whereas Steve's intelligence was a free for all, overlooking the fact he was the one that was able to pass enough classes to graduate on his first attempt, just because he didn't have much direction in life. Losing the love of Dustin hurt, but it wasn't surprising. Steve knew he was replaceable, expendable. Only needed until a better choice came along.

------

The love he had for Robin was unexpected. He denied it and pushed it away at first. Partly because he felt certain that she didn't like him back, but mostly because he felt wary about loving again. Not wanting to get hurt again, to feel unloved again. It was slow at first, the playful insults having a charming quality to them. Then it hit fast, when he saw how smart she was, how brilliant she was. He could picture being happy with her as his girlfriend, different to other girls he'd dated or been with. He confessed his love while high on Russian truth serum.

She didn't love him back like that. She couldn't love him back in a romantic sense. He didn't have time to feel hurt about it, being caught in the centre of the action. By the time his head had cleared enough to be able to think clearly, he realized that a different kind of love between them could be just as good. Loving each other platonically, best friends, soulmates. It wasn't the love he'd first thought of and expected, but it was the most love he'd ever received. And he didn't doubt it for a second.

------

The love he had for Eddie scared him. It was unplanned, unexpected. What he initially felt for Eddie was mostly distaste, and a little jealousy. Until spring break. He was wary at first, knowing Eddie's reputation. In any other town, it would have been as simple as a drug deal gone wrong. But Hawkins had to be different. Eddie got dragged into the mess of the Upside Down in the worst way possible. Steve didn't really notice the change in his feelings, other than that of friendship, until after it was over. It wasn't until they'd got out of there, injured but alive, that Steve let himself read into the comments, the flirting. Steve started to love Eddie quickly and it terrified him for two reasons, it was his first time having romantic feelings for another guy, and he didn't have a good track record of people loving him back.

Eddie was the one to start it. Steve had come out to Eddie and Robin, and it was a few weeks later while they were a little drunk. Eddie kissed Steve, and took him to bed. Eddie was the one to address it the next morning, asking Steve out. Steve allowed himself to fall again. He loved all of Eddie's quirks, how passionate he was about his music and D&D. How he was anything but a morning person, but always wake up enough to kiss Steve goodbye in the mornings before work. How when he was sat doing nothing, or just watching the tv, his fingers would be constantly moving as if they were moving across the frets on a guitar. Eddie was the first to say I love you. That was what pushed Steve further, into believing it couldn't go wrong. Because there'd never been a time where he hadn't been the first.

And it seemed to go right. Weeks, months passed. It was nearing the year before it fell apart. Steve had noticed that Eddie kept him separate from his other friends, his bandmates. He didn't blame him for it, he'd been an asshole in high school, and while he couldn't remember doing anything to Eddie's bandmates, he'd never given them much reason to trust him either. He would have liked a chance to meet them properly, to make it right, but he wasn't going to push it. He didn't want to give Eddie a reason to have second thoughts about the relationship. It blew up when Steve was planning to surprise Eddie at the trailer. He let himself in using the key Wayne had given him, trying to keep as quiet as possible. It threw him a little, to see a couple of boxes stacked by the tv that hadn't been there a few days before. He started to make his way down the hall, but stopped short when he heard voices. "You're not going to call off whatever you've got going with Harrington before you leave?" It was one of Eddie's bandmates, but Steve couldn't identify which one. He held his breath while waiting for Eddie's reply.

"It's not like it's anything serious. I just keep him around because he's hot and a good fuck." Steve's heart shattered at Eddie's words. He was torn between running out of the trailer, bursting in to confront Eddie, or staying put to try to hear more. In his inner turmoil, he missed the other guy's response, but he heard Eddie's next words loud and clear. "It's not like I even care about him that much. I'll leave town and in a week he'll be back to chasing skirts. He'd probably just strike out, because look at him. I don't understand how could anyone love Steve Harrington."

Steve fled the trailer, not caring about the noise as he moved, choking back sobs that were desperate to burst out of his throat. He threw himself into his car and just drove until the tears blurred his vision so much he couldn't see the road. He couldn't understand how he'd been so stupid, so blind. It was the same pattern repeating again, and Eddie's words had destroyed him, it was the question he'd asked himself so many times before.

How could anyone love Steve Harrington?

My last fic ended fluffier than I first planned, so my brain went have 3k of angst with just a brief fluffy platonic stobin interlude. I'm sorry. I did plan to get this up like 2 days ago but migraines decided otherwise.

[humiliation4brenda]

What I Miss . . .

There are a few things I miss from my first marriage but none more so than my former mother-in-law. Margaret, when I first met her, was in her mid-fifties but dressed and acted quite a bit older. She had a wonderful wardrobe of colourful crimplene and rayon dresses, skirts and nylon blouses. Her underwear drawer was full of white and flesh-coloured foundation garments - corselets, panty girdles and tan tights. Her footwear was normally low-heeled court shoes, apart from a pair of calf-length boots - all made from leather. She looked fabulous in whatever she wore.

Suffice to say, I adored her from our first meeting - she was graceful and feminine, very mild-mannered and totally under the control of her husband. For me, she was the perfect housewife, something that I wanted to be more than anything.

Whenever I was left alone in her house, I’d head straight to her bedroom and dress in her clothes - always in her underwear and one of her dresses, if time permitted. Thankfully, we were of similar build and I could just manage to fit into her shoes. Occaisionally, when Margaret and her husband were on holiday and my wife was working, I’d have the house to myself and could take my time, knowing I wouldn’t be disturbed and could dress completely. I’d even get to wear her make-up and spare wig and adorn myself with her jewellery and glasses. Then I’d spend the day being Margaret, doing a few household chores, watching her favourite soaps and reading her copies of The People’s Friend - always making sure that wherever I stood or sat, I could see my reflection in a nearby mirror. On more than one occasion I’d put on one of her beige raincoats, a silk headscarf and stand by the front door, plucking up the courage to step outside.

I never did, though I really wish I had.

[ashensgrotto]

Hey I was reading your yandere Azul fanfic for like the 50th time and I had this idea for a request:

Can you do the other overblot boys in similar situations?

Also when are we going to have Azul's redemption arc when we get trapped in Scariba?

Have a lovely day/night/morning/afternoon

Why, greetings my dear anon! I’m happy that you enjoyed the ‘Poor Unfortunate Souls’ to read it that many times - and I apologized that I haven’t been able to get started on the Scarbia segment yet (between that and Raison D’être plus work & other stories… and GloMas, I really need to get my priorities straight seriously -_-). However, I do intend on working on it as soon as I can so I can get it out sometime this month or in December - I mean, I think that would be the most logical since that one takes place during holiday break, right?

Now, for your request - I hope head cannons are alright for the time being. I’ll try to come back to them and do short stories for each of them that follows the same concept design as “Am I Feeling Love?” - which is the first installment of the Yandere!Azul series. I'm also going to divide this into two parts - about halfway through I realized I hadn't posted anything in a while and thus, I want to make it up to all of you for not writing or posting anything for some time.

Part 1 (Here) will feature Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, and Jamil Viper

Part 2 (Here) will feature Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, and Malleus Draconia

***

Riddle Rosehearts:

Yandere Riddle is more of the controlling type - that much is certain. While during his youth, he came across a story about ‘soulmates’ - and the idea of someone made for him took root like a weed in the rose garden. Although his mother ordered for him to dismiss the idea as nothing but a fairytale, Riddle could not push the idea away and it slowly became a source of comfort and drive - if he could stand out both in academics and athletics, surely his soulmate would recognize him as their other half. (There really was no way for him to search for his other half while trapped under his mother’s unwavering gaze, especially after the tart incident.) 

When he saw you in the mirror chamber for the first time many years later, he was awestruck by your grace and beauty, reminding him of how the queen of heart once was long ago… the problem was your impeccable timing. You had the worst sense of direction as well as time - quite literally to the point that he had to give you several (and I mean like five to ten) different watches to have on your person so you wouldn’t run late for your scheduled tea time and after school lessons with him (which he made a priority to keep an eye on your movements, especially with the way you hang around the ADuo).

He likes that you have a favorite tea flavor, but hates that you drink it. All. The. Time. (“There are other teas, you know?” he tells you softly, trying to reign in his urge to yell at you for drinking your tea when you should be drinking the green tea with honey that is required following a lesson with him.)

He recognizes you for your hard work - often watching you from the shadows when time permits as you paint the roses red, care for the hedgehogs, feed the flamingos in that pink attire he provided for you, and assist with the dorm’s random tea party celebrations. Riddle also enjoys your conversations - even though he would like it better if you opened your mouth and stopped speaking so quietly (“Look up, speak nicely. AND DON’T TWIDDLE YOUR FINGERS! Turn out your toes, curtsy, open your mouth a little wider and always say, ‘Yes, Housewarden Riddle.’" He’s constantly reminding you.)

The one thing he can not stand though: your friendship with Duece and Ace and the furball menace. He has added a new rule to the roster: ‘Rule #687: (Y/N) is to always be supervised by either Trey Clover or Cater Diamond when not in the presence of the housewarden.’ (It’s for your wellbeing, after all. Trey and Cater are much more reliable than those two annoying freshmen and fire-breathing direbeast.)

However, his real breaking point is when you side with Ace and Duece following the ‘collaring’. He wouldn’t have dreamed in a million years that you would’ve sided with them over him. He was only trying to look out for your best interests… the best interests of the dorm… He was supposed to be the one…

Leona Kingscholar:

Yandere Leona is more of the… dependent type. During his youth, one lazy afternoon, his older brother was talking to him about how he read in his studies about a certain smell that would allow him to know if his soulmate was nearby. Leona had at first shrugged it off, not really caring - after all, he wasn’t going to be king… why should he worry about finding the right one? He didn’t need annoying little brats running circles around him like his nephew did already… what a pain.

That changed the moment you entered the mirror chamber. Your scent wafted through the air and tickled Leona’s nose like a call of a hornbill to its mate. Leona could feel a need rising within him - a sudden need to protect and lay claim to you as his. And when the mirror turned you away, Ruggie was surprised when he stepped forward, offering a place to stay in Savanclaw.

It was no surprise to anyone that Leona decided to make you his personal gopher (although he knew that he couldn’t rely on you 24/7 as you weren’t allowed to attend the school - not that he cared much anyway for classes). During practice, you would bring water and snacks - the housewarden always scruffing the top of your head and messing your hair up, offering a cheeky grin that no one had seen before. In the dorm, you would sit with him and look over his homework and studies - Ruggie nearby to help you understand what was being taught, considering that this was something far beyond your understanding - especially since you had no magic ability either.

Speaking of which, Ruggie was the only other person - besides Leona - that was allowed to get close to you. Any other student that attempted to get within a foot of you would suffer under Leona’s frightening stare before choking on ‘King’s Roar’ until they begged for mercy when you weren’t around.

When the spelldrive tournament came up - and you unknowingly found out about the plan to hurt another student - you confronted Leona about it. Leona tried to play innocent - pretending not to know what you were talking about, Ruggie assisting with the typically ‘innocent until guilty’ look that he often gave you.

His last straw was when you and Jack warned the others of Savanaclaw's plan - the housewarden of Heartslabyul and his students effectively coming to your aid. Leona thought he could trust you… that you would respect him and love him as the king he was supposed to be…

Jamil Viper

Jamil is your typical stalker type - wanting to know about your every move, it’s ingrained in him after all. During his youth, he - along with the other servants of the Al-Asim home - would watch over the young masters as they grew up, one eye always on the lookout for danger that could befall the family. Kalim - as sweet and carefree as he was - would often spend time in Jamil’s presence, chewing his ear off with stories and such, Jamil often ignoring what he said or taking everything with a grain of salt. However - the story of the Scalding Sands princess and the thief never completely left his mind. Legends stated that the two were fated to be together - and the land had been prosperous during their reign. Jamil would often turn the story over in his mind a handful of times, but tsk at the idea of soulmates. It was only a fairy tale… right?

That changed the moment he saw you in the mirror chamber - your eyes wide by everything that was different and strange to you. If Jamil was honest, he thought back to the story of the desert princess and the thief right then and there - he imagined himself as the thief and you as the princess, and the longing that filled him had to be the same as it was for the thief when he had seen the princess’ beauty for the first time. It was easy to persuade Kalim to let you stay in Scarabia, using ‘Snake Whisper’ to charm him into allowing the headmaster for you to stay. Once within the safe confines of the dorm, Jamil offered for you to assist him with taking care of Kalim (“Trust me, my little desert flower,” he tells you, “things aren’t always as they seem. You will get what’s coming to you.”)

Speaking of which - like Azul’s pet name of ‘Angelfish,’ Jamil refers to you as ‘Desert Flower.’ When you asked why that was, Jamil would cough and say something about how you reminded him of the flowers back in the Scalding Sands - particularly the Desert Hyacinth (which is a parasitic plant, oddly enough).

Regardless, Jamil enjoys spending time with you - when not chasing Kalim around. In the evenings, when the dorm is asleep, he finds the evenings quite relaxing in your presence; playing Mancala on the carpeted flooring after having his feet rubbed in oil to alleviate the tension and pain from all the hard work he did. When he asks if there’s anything he can do for you in return, you simply smile and shake your head, explaining how you’re thankful for his kindness and generosity for keeping you company in the late evenings when you both know he should be getting rest.

However, as the holiday season approaches and the rest of the school heads home for the holidays, Jamil notices your disappearance one night - making him frantic to know where you had disappeared to. That fear turns into seething rage when you return with an octopus and two eels in tow - Jamil demanding to know what the meaning of this is. Out of the goodness of your heart, you explain that you sought help for him and Kalim - especially with Kalim’s strange mood swings making you more and more nervous with each passing day. The presence of the scheming octomer and his twin pals makes Jamil more on edge than ever - watching from the shadows as you and Kalim turn to your new allies. It would seem… desperate times call for desperate measures.

The look on your face when it’s revealed that he was the one behind the changes in Kalim’s behavior was enough to shatter Jamil’s heart into a thousand pieces - like a glass lamp crushed under the weight of stone. The fear… the anger… the resentment towards Kalim has become centerfold - but Jamil could never hate you… his little desert flower. If only he was headwarden… if he was in charge… none of this would have happened… it was all Kalim’s fault, after all…