#and it becomes a garbled mess on mobile

[diaperboyhumiliationstories]

A Diaper Lover Ruined

Mommy Sarah's eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure as she snapped the last picture of her Diaper Boy, his face a mask of utter despair, the soiled diaper clearly visible through the transparent plastic. The room was a prison of pink and white, baby mobiles hanging over the crib that had become his cage. The digital camera in her hand clicked away, capturing each moment of his degradation for the world to see. He was sprawled out, his wrists bound to the crib bars with thick, babyish pink tape, legs kicking feebly in the air as he struggled to free himself. The smell of his mess filled the air, a potent reminder of his failure to control his most basic bodily functions. The crinkling of the wet plastic was the only sound in the otherwise silent room, save for his muffled sobs and the occasional whimper that escaped the pacifier lodged in his mouth.

"Look at you," she cooed, her voice thick with condescension. "So pathetic, so needy. You're nothing but a diaper cuck, aren't you?" He nodded, tears streaming down his cheeks, unable to form words through his sobs. The humiliation was too much. It didn't matter that he was a grown man, with a career and responsibilities outside these walls. In here, in the sanctum of their twisted game, he was her baby, her pet, her Diaper Boy. Mommy Sarah leaned over, her generous cleavage spilling from her low-cut blouse as she whispered sweet nothings in his ear. "You love it, don't you? Being my little dirty secret?" Another nod, more vigorous this time, a silent admission of his masochistic desires.

"Good," she purred, stroking his hair. "Because now the whole world is going to see what a mess you've made."

Her thumbs danced over the phone screen, posting the pictures to an online forum where like-minded individuals reveled in the misery of those like him. The thought of strangers ogling his predicament sent a fresh wave of embarrassment crashing through him, making him squirm in his soiled confines.

The phone buzzed with the sound of notifications.

Comments and reactions to his humiliation. He knew what they said without reading them: "What a disgusting diaper cuck," "Look at the baby's sad little face," "Mommy's got a messy little boy," and, perhaps the most damning of all, "He deserves it." Mommy Sarah picked up her device, her eyes scanning the screen. "Oh, they're going to love this," she giggled, reading aloud the cruel words of those who were now part of his torment. Each one stung like a whip lash, a stark reminder of his powerlessness. He wanted to beg for mercy, to apologize for his perversions, to promise that he would be a good boy. But the pacifier filled his mouth, turning his pleas into garbled, incoherent sounds that only served to amuse her further. With a click, she posted a video, his mortification now captured in living color. His blush deepened as he heard the sound of his own cries of protest echoing in the room. The camera panned down, focusing on the dark stain spreading through the diaper, the clear evidence of his failure to be an adult.

The doorbell rang, shattering the quiet. She leaned in, her breath hot against his cheek. "Now, now, baby boy. Remember your place."

He trembled, understanding what she meant. She had friends coming over, and they knew of his secret. They were eager to see him in his degradation, to join in the humiliation. The door opened and closed, followed by the sound of footsteps and feminine laughter. Mommy Sarah stepped aside, revealing the group of women who had entered. They were all dressed in variations of the same theme: short skirts, tight tops, and a smugness that spoke of their shared power over him. They circled the crib, pointing and laughing, their eyes greedy as they took in the sight of Diaper Boy's exposed humiliation.

One leaned in, her long, red nails tracing the line of his jaw.

"Hello, little cuck," she purred. "You're going to be the star of the show tonight." He whimpered, his eyes wide with terror. The women began to take turns, each one poking and prodding, whispering lewd suggestions to Mommy Sarah. His cheeks burned as they discussed his fate in front of him, as if he weren't even there.

The night stretched out before him, a marathon of degradation and exposure that would leave no part of his soul untouched. They had plans for him, oh, they had plans. And as they all took their phones out, ready to capture his every humiliation, he knew that his darkest secret would never be his alone again.

He was Diaper Boy, the pathetic diaper cuck, and he was about to learn the true cost of his desires.

[corvussnakee]

Mobile Tumblr

Mobile Tumbler is being a huge fuckin stinker- fuckin up my posts when I post em and just ARRGHHH!!!! On my Art Tumblr, if u see a post and suddenly see it get edited, that's probably me cleaning it up. I swear, why do my mosts become garbled messes >:(

[olli-ii]

VLD Headcanons & Timeline

Mostly for my own use when creating content. The time frame explanation is pretty much just me agreeing with this post  and moulding it to how I see things. 

I’ll likely update this as things come to mind, there’s a lot I’ve left out while I go over how it could fit into canon

The Garrison

The garrison is part military part space program, that seems to recruit at young ages (high school level students grades 10-12, as opposed to college aged students like current military regulations permit). Getting the best of the world’s youth, it acts as a kind of military school. The cadets seem to come from all over the world.

Where is this institution located?

I think I’m the only person in the fandom who whole-heartedly does not believe the garrison is located in the USA.

The map in Keith’s shack looks similar to the coast of north Africa, the area in which Keith’s marked as the high energy spot looks to be around Libya/Egypt, further, one of the cave painting depicts the blue lion running with gazelles

~More under the cut~

Timeline (to be edited)

November 2113 - Kerberos mission estimated launch

February 2114 - Kerberos mission loss estimated – (estimated 3 months journey between Earth and Kerberos (Pidge: “it takes our ships months to reach this far! We got here in seconds!”) (Shiro was said to be missing in space for 12 months, assuming he returned in the February of 2115 in accordance with the calendar in Keith’s shack, the Kerberos mission failure likely happened in the February of 2114. Lance logs the rescue mission simulation arrival as May 11 2114, So I can assume from that it takes about 3 months to get there from Earth)

June 2114 - Keith estimated termination from the Garrison. Assuming he’s waited until a possible rescue mission occurred, and being given little to no info about what happened to Shiro, giving Keith four months to let his temper fester, and for something big to occur to get him kicked out.

Between June 2114 – February 2115   Keith refuses to re-join civilization, begins hunting the blue lion’s energy in the desert

September 2114 - Lance reassigned to the fighter pilot class, Katie infiltrates the garrison as Pidge. The garrison trio is formed

February 2115 - Estimated time for Shiro’s return to Earth

Character ages:

Completely speculation, there’s really little proof in why I think they’re the ages they are, but whatever, this works for me.

Shiro: February 29 - 2096 (if 19 yrs.) 2092 (if 23 yrs.) 2088 (if 27 yrs.) Taking into account that Shiro is a leap day baby, him being 25 does not work, if the year Lance stated in episode 1 is correct. I’m personally going with 23.

Matt: 2095 (estimated to be 19-20 the year of canon, due to Matt wearing a garrison cadet uniform in flashback, I’m guessing he was likely in his final year, and probably around 18 at the time of The Kerberos mission launch)

Hunk: January 13 2097 (Aged 18 during canon)

Lance: July 28 2097 (Aged 17 during canon)

Keith: (between June-December) 2098 (aged 16 during canon) (I headcanon Keith as being a year younger than Hunk and Lance, being that he was considered a prodigy, he likely got moved up, which might explain Lance’s dislike of him, especially if the only reason Lance didn’t make fighter class was because some brat who was likely getting special treatment, i.e. Shiro, that stole his spot.)

Pidge: April 3 2100 (aged 14 during canon, on the edge of 15)

Allura: 18 - 20 (I have no real concept of how Altean years and biological development work, judging from some things said here and there, it would seem they live a longer than average humans do, So this is less of a definitive “this is how old they are!”, and more of a probable biological equivalent to humans)

Coran: In his 50’s (I have no real concept of how Altean years and biological development work, judging from some things said here and there, it would seem they live a longer than average humans do, So this is less of a definitive “this is how old they are!” and more of a probable biological equivalent to humans)

[queencoldart]

Instrumental parentification is a feature of many dragon families. It is normal for the older siblings to care for the younger ones. Usually the size difference between parents and their offspring justifies it to an extent; adult dragons are enormous. Mundane things like bathing the newly hatched and restraining unruly tweens can be downright dangerous if the parent tries to do it.

However, there are times it gets taken too far.

Garble was somewhat neglected after Caldera stopped worrying about his safety 24/7. She didn't want to smother her son with too much care, but in her attempt to reign herself in she ended up taking it to the other extreme. Meanwhile, Maximus had no idea how to raise anything except an army, so he focused on providing for the family and giving Garble a robust physical education.

At a young age Garble learned that if he needed something, the only reliable way to obtain it was by getting it himself. Being as physically fit as he was, this usually wasn't a problem. He was starved for validation, though. His mother's mordant sense of humor didn't help matters.

When Smolder hatched, Caldera was initially worried that Garble would be very jealous of his little sister. But the young drake adored her. Garble was old enough to understand why a hatchling needs more attention, and why his help was enlisted sometimes. He loved the idea of having a playmate in her as she grew older. The responsibility of caring for her made him feel significant as well.

As Smolder grew into a mobile baby dragon who could walk and talk, she became glued to her big brother. Garble was her hero and she wanted to be included no matter what he did. Though there were times Garble craved privacy, he reveled in the attention for the most part.

Caldera was elated that her babies got along so well and didn't realize that she was becoming gradually more critical and demanding of her son. Not only did she come to rely on Garble's help raising her daughter, she began holding him accountable for her mistakes. Since Smolder tried mirroring everything Garble did, she'd punish him severely for messing up, arguing that every mistake he made in front of Smolder was a mistake he made twice. She also scolded him for wanting to be Smolder's hero, calling him selfish for leaning on her dependence on him — something that she had chastised herself for when Garble was much younger. This all made sense to young Garble, so he internalized that guilt. On top of this, he had his stoic, high-ranking father's footprints to fill.

Garble grew hyper aware of his perceived shortcomings over time, compensating for them by putting forth the image of being a "dragon among dragons". Another way he compensated for them was by taking his responsibility as the oldest sibling very seriously. He wants the best for his little sisters and sometimes that means being a bit tougher on them than he'd like...

That said, Smolder really pushed his buttons this time. Climbing all over him and tugging at his wings for attention is something he can ignore, but she can't push her head against his chin. Those horns of hers could poke his eyes out!

[ao3bronte]

🐞Little Lady Paws🐾

2 | 3 | 4 Ladybug gets into a “hairy” predicament when an akuma capture goes wrong. A collaboration between @ao3bronte​ and @yamina20-blog​ 💕

I am a hamster.

I’m a hamster?

I’M A HAMSTER?!

Gnashing her hands—no, her paws—together restlessly, Paris’ leading lady turned stout-bodied rodent tries not to panic. She’s been sitting here patiently on Adrien’s bedspread for twenty minutes and so far, he hasn’t shown up to embarrass her any further. She can’t even imagine what he’s going to say when he sees her like this, tiny and furry and naked, save for the earrings in her ears. One quick look in her reflection confirms what Master Fu has already told her; they’re still in their active form, which means that Tikki is just as trapped in this hamster body as she is. 

Seconds turn into minutes and Ladybug eventually gets bored of waiting, prefering to explore the world around her to keep her mind off the inevitable. She clambers up towards his pillows but doesn’t find anything of interest hiding beneath them, which isn’t all that surprising. Just because she hides things under her own pillows doesn’t mean that other people do and Ladybug flops down onto his mattress platform instead to try and find something to amuse herself with.

Which is when she spots it.

An iPad!

Using Adrien’s mattress frame like a firepole, Ladybug slides down the legs of the platform and plops onto her furry bum with a squeak, rubbing it gingerly. This floor is hard! And her paws aren’t nearly as agile as human hands, which makes this next part even more daunting.

Whoa!

This shelving unit looked way smaller when she’d still been on the bed!

The iPad is on the second shelf and somehow, she needs to find a way to get up to it. If she uses his mobile charging cord as a lasso, maybe she can hook the tip of it around the corner of the cabinet and haul herself up like a mountaineer—

“Ladybug?”

The heroine-turned-hamster jolts to a halt, freezing in place. Her heart throbs like a jackhammer in her chest and she flattens herself to the floor instinctively, her eyes blown wide with fright. Adrien immediately looks stricken and runs over, sliding across the floor on his knees to where she’s more or less trying to melt between the whitewashed wooden floorboards.

“Ladybug? Oh my god, are you okay?” Adrien scoops her up with the gentlest of touches, cradling her like the most delicate piece of porcelain in creation, “Chat Noir told me about what happened to you and I promised to take care of you but—oh my god, Ladybug, are you breathing? Oh god, I’ve killed her. I gave her a heart attack and killed her!”

Watching his anxiety mount with every panicked exclamation, Ladybug wills her diaphragm inhale. He scared the living daylights out of her and now they’re both becoming hysterical and this is by far the worst thing that’s ever happened in the entire history of the known universe and nothing in the world could ever be this awful again except it is and it’s happening and—

“Oh thank god, you’re breathing,” Adrien sits back on his haunches with a sigh of relief, throwing his head back, “I thought I killed you!”

Ladybug manages to open and close her mouth several times before uttering a single squeak, her face positively simmering with embarrassment. Adrien doesn’t seem to notice, too wrapped up in his own guilt, and promptly clambers to his feet, “I’m going to put you somewhere safe, okay? It’s dangerous, being on the floor where someone could step on you.”

Still thoroughly drowning in her own humiliation, Ladybug doesn’t even protest as he gently deposits her back onto the bed again and begins to pace, “While I was coming home from my photoshoot, I was Googling how to take care of hamsters because I’ve never had a pet before—I mean,” he stops and begins to wave his hands, “You’re not a pet, you’re Ladybug, but you’re shaped like a pet and— oh my god, this is coming out all wrong.”

Adrien takes a deep breath, “Okay. I need to just…calm down. We all need to calm down and focus so we can try and figure this out.”

Watching in a mix of awe and horror, Ladybug realises that Adrien is feeling just as overwhelmed as she is.

“I really want to help you,” he finally says, rubbing furiously at the back of his neck, “But I don’t know how so...here!” Galloping over to his side table, Adrien snatches the very device Ladybug had been trying to lasso and plops it on the bed beside her, “Use the iPad! I’ll, uh...let me just find the memo app.”

Quickly swiping across the screen, a blank page awaits. Ladybug climbs on and quickly rules out using her front paws; her back paws keep hitting the other keys and messing everything up. With a frustrated huff, Ladybug stands on her hind legs and pats her claws on the backspace button until her garbled message is cleared.

hi adrien, she hops back and forth across the sensitive glass, the pads of her tiny paws hitting each key with a satisfying thunk, im so sorry chat did this to you

“What?!” Adrien reels back, panicking once again, “No no! This is fine. This is great! It’s no problem, watching over you. No no, I’m the one who should be sorry! I almost gave you a heart attack!”

Ladybug glances up at his cherry stained cheeks before tapping the enter button and continuing onto the next line, this is my fault i never should have got hit

“But you did,” Adrien fiddles with his hands, his fingers practically twitching with the need to be useful, “And we’re going to figure this out. Chat Noir said he’s going to come by when Le Papillon makes another akuma and pick you up. He’s hoping the next one will be useful and maybe you’ll be able to turn back!”

Ladybug can’t deny that Adrien’s earnestness is infectious, i hope so

“I know so,” he assures her, blinding her with one of his one-hundred watt grin, “You can count on Chat Noir. He’d do anything for you! He’s probably out there right now, looking for an answer!”

Running the tips of her claws through the fur on her forearms, Ladybug’s lips begin to curve up at the edges as she types, i trust him to help me

“You do?” 

Consumed with her tap dance along the keyboard, Ladybug completely misses the flush on his features, i do but dont tell him i said that

Adrien dips his head to the side and Ladybug’s knees quake at the sight, “How come? He would love to know that you trust him!”

he knows, Ladybug has to look away just to get a hold of herself, but if i tell him his head will get too big

Adrien begins to snicker and sits down alongside her, “I guess you’re kind of right. He probably loves getting compliments from you."

Ladybug doesn't bother typing out her answer, instead offering him an enormous nod; Chat Noir is and always has been a sucker for kind words.

Glancing towards the darkening sky, Adrien's traitorous stomach begins to rumble, "Nathalie is going to call me down for dinner soon. What should I bring back for you?"

Ladybug shrugs, honestly stumped, what do hamsters eat

��Good question,” Adrien scoots beside her and Ladybug’s heart leaps into her chest at the proximity, “Let’s Google it! Here,” Adrien gently lifts Ladybug up by the waist and sets her on his knee as he picks up the tablet with his other hand, propping it up in front of them for both of them to see. “Seeds, nuts, fruits and vegetables. That should be easy enough to smuggle back up into my bedroom.”

Ladybug turns her attention away from the tablet and gazes back up at Adrien, marvelling at just how huge he is for a moment. Everything is so much bigger when you’re a hamster — she gets that — but it doesn’t really click until you’re unwillingly forced to become one at the hands of an evil mastermind bent on terrorizing Paris.

“Uh, Ladybug? Are you okay?” Adrien’s enormous hand curls around her body and Ladybug desperately hopes he can’t feel her heart hammering through all of her silky fur, “You’re kind of zoning out on me.”

Squeaking a stammering apology, Ladybug tries and fails to gather her composure. And how can she? Adrien has his huge, warm hand wrapped around her body and she’s practically shaking with nervous energy, every synapse overwhelmed with the giddy excitement of being in love. This is both the best and worst day of her life and for what it’s worth, she’ll have to remember to bring Chat some extra pastries as a thank you once she’s back to her regular size.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t want to leave you on your own if you’re not,” Adrien says and Ladybug melts at the concern in his voice. How did he come to be so unconditionally kind? And thoughtful? And so extremely good looking?

He must sense the way her tension drains from her body and he sighs in relief, gracing her again with his beautiful smile, “Alright, I’m going to leave you on the bed, okay? And you can watch or do whatever you want with my iPad. Mi casa es su casa, right?” he laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck, “Anyway, I won’t be long and when I come back, I’ll bring you something to eat and maybe we can watch a movie together? Would you like that?”

Ladybug nods, folding and refolding her little paws as she imagines the two of them watching a movie together. What would they watch? Would she sit beside him? Would he let her sit on his knee again?

“Perfect!” Adrien practically vibrates, setting Ladybug back down on his bedspread beside the iPad, “I’ll be back, Ladybug. See you soon!”

[angelic-holland]

can i request like.. a tom x reader blurb but in the two becomes three / cover me in your love universe ?? maybe something where tom shows her that even though they both absolutely love having sex with jake, she's still his and his only ?? 🥺 but also.. jealous sex is 🥵

Apologizing in advance for how long this was and if the read more doesn’t work bc I’m on mobile. I shouldn’t be allowed to write this at 7 in the morning but here we are

Warnings: smut, jealous smut, uhhh spanking, mild choking, humiliation, and edging

[[READ MORE]]

Tom was busy doing a set of press interviews after Jake was finished for the day. Naturally the second Jake got back to the hotel he knocked on you and Tom’s door. You tried to give him his own key card but there was something he liked about knocking on your door. You didn’t question it. You saw it was him through the peephole so you didn’t bother putting on anything other than one of Tom’s t-shirts.

“Hey baby girl,” he grins, practically picking you up as soon as you open the door. His hands are under your thighs, foot closing the door as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his lips to yours.

“Someone’s eager,” he laughs against you, kissing and nipping down your neck as he walks towards the bed.

“Just missed you,” you whine as you grind yourself down on his cock, hard already under his jeans.

“You’ve got me all to yourself for a little bit, aren’t you lucky?” He smiles as you tug on his hair.

“Mhm, let’s make the most of it.”

He tossed you on the bed and you crawl up to the pillows, pushing Tom’s shirt up and off while Jake begins to strip.

“Come here baby, lemme eat that pretty pussy,” he grabs your ankles, pulling you down to the edge of the bed as he kneels on the ground in just his boxers.

“Look at you, already soaked through your panties,” Jake grins, easily tearing them from your hips and tossing them to the side.

“Why do you have a habit of ruining my underwear?” You whine as he spreads your folds with his fingers.

“Because, you look like such a pretty slut when you don’t wear any,” Jake smirks before diving into your pussy.

You moan, hands gripping the sheets as his tongue glides through your folds, lapping at your clit right away as he pushes two fingers inside of you.

“Fuck, sir,” you groan.

Jake just grunts into your skin, stretching and scissoring his fingers inside of you as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck can I come? Please Jake, feel so good against me, your beard feels so good against my thighs.”

“Sure baby girl, gonna stretch you out for my cock, okay? Wanna come all over my fingers?”

“Yeah, please, please sir, fuck,” you cry out as he adds another finger, pressing right up against your g-spot.

“Always so tight huh, even with our cocks stretching you out so often, always stay so fucking tight for us?”

“Fuck, Jake, I need it please, please sir,” you were babbling at this point, so honed in on your pleasure your thighs nearly wrapped around his head when you came, his strong arms pushing them open as he lapped at your clit.

He pulled his fingers out of you, trailing them up your body before shoving them in your mouth. You gagged around them and did your best to close your lips and suck on them.

“Look like such a pretty little slut huh? Gagging on my fingers? Want to ride my cock while you suck my fingers?”

You moan and nod as best as you can. He pulls his fingers out of you and stands up, pulling down his boxers.

He sits back against the headboard and pats his lap, you turn and crawl over to him, groaning when his hands grab at your hips and settle you on top of him, your back against his broad chest.

He guides his cock inside of you, fingers shoved back into your mouth as his thighs keep your own spread wide for him.

He’s immediately pounding into you, his hips slapping against your ass as your hands grip at his thighs. Your head falls onto his shoulder and he smirks, moving to whisper in your ear.

“You’re so fucking tight baby girl, your pussy, your throat, all so tight for me.”

You try to respond around his fingers but it just comes out as a garbled mess.

“Fuck feel so good,” Jake groans, his beard scratches your cheek and you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as his other hand goes to rest over your stomach. He pushes down ever so slightly and you nearly lose your mind when his hand feels the outline of himself inside of you.

You clench around him, crying out as spit runs down your chin.

“Can feel just how fucking deep I am, how good am I fucking you right now baby girl? Go ahead, say it,” Jake pulls his fingers out of your mouth and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at the way his cock plunged into you.

“So good Jake, fuck you fill me so good, always make me feel fucking ah fuck fuck fuck, amazing,” you groan as you feel a knot start to form in your stomach.

“Yeah, that’s right, keep watching as I fuck you okay?”

You nod, eyes stinging with tears from how overwhelmingly good it felt, but you kept them open.

“That’s a good girl for me,” Jake’s hand continued to lightly press against your stomach. He was just as in awe as you were, watching his cock bulge inside of you.

“Can I come?” You whimper, you were probably pushing your luck since he already made you come once tonight but you were in too much bliss to care.

“You wanna come baby girl? Go ahead and make yourself come for me,” Jake says, moving your hand from its limp position at your side to rest against your pussy.

You whimper as you watch your thumb rub your clit, shaking as you bounce on Jake’s lap. Saying you were riding him was a lie. He was basically just fucking you on his lap. He sucked a bruise into the skin of your neck, grunting as he twitched inside of you, getting close to his release.

You were right there with him, “please oh god, can I come? Fuck, please let me come,” you cry out.

“Gonna let me fill you up first? Want me to fill your pretty little pussy full of come?”

“Yes, please please fill me up sir,” you gasp as Jake bites down on your neck and he comes, hot and deep inside you.

“Come for me baby girl, come while you try to keep my come from dripping out of your pussy,” Jake grunts, replacing your thumb with his own, rougher and thicker the pad of his thumb and the moment you feel come start to drip down to your ass you come. This is coincidentally the moment that Tom comes back from his interviews.

The door opens and he’s greeted by the sight of you moaning and crying out Jake’s name over and over as Jake’s hips still and his thumb slows down.

“Nice if you to join us Tom,” Jake smirks and you try to compose yourself, looking towards your boyfriend as he slams the door shut.

“Shut up Jake, you started without me?”

He’s more so directing the question to you.

“Yeah I didn’t think it was a big deal,” you’re still a little hazy from your orgasm so you didn’t see how Tom was practically shaking with jealousy as he saw you spread wide across Jake’s lap, spit down your chin, nipples hard and come running down your folds.

“Get off his cock and get on all fours y/n, and Jake, go sit on the desk chair.”

“Tom-,” you start as Jake pulls you off him.

You end up kneeling in the middle of the bed, thighs trembling as Jake presses a quick kiss to your shoulder and moves to sit down.

“What’s your color?” Tom asks, when did he strip off his shirt? He was already taking off his shoes and pants. He crawled over to you on the bed in just his boxers.

“Green,” you whisper. He raises an eyebrow and you repeat yourself but louder.

“You want me to fuck you? Want me to show you who you belong too?”

“Belong to you Tom,” you cry out as he pulls you onto his lap, your stomach rests against his thighs.

“Really? Then why is Jake’s come the one spilling out of your sloppy cunt?”

He slips two fingers inside of you and spanks you with his other hand.

“He was-,”

He spanks you again and you cry out before you could finish.

“He was around? You’re that much of a slut that you’d fuck any man who was around?”

Tom continues to spank you and you can’t respond other than moans and whimpers. You see Jake out of the corner of your eye, he’s hard again and sprawled out in the desk chair, jerking himself off to the way your face contorted in pleasure.

“I asked you a question, slut.”

“Just you and Jake, ah,” you cry out as he spanks you again.

“But whose are you baby girl? Are you Jake’s?”

You moan as Jake winks at you.

Tom spanks you especially hard when he noticed where your attention was.

“Whose are you?”

“Yours! Tom! I’m yours!” You cry out, tears welling in your eyes as he pulls his fingers out of you and run them down your thighs, letting Jake’s come make a mess against your skin.

“Good, now I’m gonna prove that you’re mine,” Tom throws you onto the bed, pressing your face into the pillow before shoving his boxers down.

“Fuck, you want me to fuck you? Fuck you through all of Jake’s come? Make you mine?”

“Yes, oh Tom please take me, need you to fill me up,” you moan brokenly when he pushes into your dripping pussy with ease.

“So fucking pathetic huh? Get fucked like a nasty whore, like a rag doll on Jake’s lap, he just tosses you around like a little fuck toy didn’t he? And you enjoy it,” Tom barks out a laugh, slapping your ass before pulling your hips up, making you balance on your knees.

“Tom, harder,” you pant, feeling yourself flush from his humiliating words.

“And you come begging to me, begging me to fuck you raw on my cock as well? Begging to be used? You love this don’t know? Me proving you’re mine. Showing you exactly who you belong to,” Tom bites his lower lip as your hands grip the sheets below you, struggling to draw in air as he pressed your face into the pillow again.

He tugs a fistful of your hair up and forced your head up, letting you take a few lungfuls of air before he repeated his question.

You figured it was rhetorical because the only sound being pulled from your lips at the moment were high pitched whines and choked out moans when he forced your head to the side, to look at Jake for a moment before roughly pulling out of you and flipping you onto your back.

“Do you like when I prove who you belong to?” Tom asks, lifting your leg up to his shoulder before fucking into you again.

“Yes, all yours Tom, fuck, please don’t stop,” you whimper, watching as he grins, leaning down to cause a delicious stretch in your thigh. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your nipple before biting down on the soft flesh of your breast.

“What are you?” He asks, his hips slapping against your own, your clit throbbing as he trails kisses and bites across your chest.

“I’m a slut Tommy,” you cry out as he slaps your thigh.

“Still so fucking tight, even after Jake fucked you open, but whose slut are you?”

“Yours Tom, oh please, please can I come Tommy?”

Tom laughs, low and deep in his chest before tapping his index finger against your clit.

“Do you deserve to come? Did Jake make you come already?”

“Yeah, yeah he did,” you cry out as the tapping turns into gentle slaps with three fingers.

“Do sluts ask if they can come?” Tom leans his weight down further on you, making you cry out at the stretch of your thigh, he runs his hand up your body to cup your chin.

You shake your head ‘no’ as best as you could.

“What do they do? What do sluts do?” Tom asks, grinning as you try to form words through whimpers and choked out moans.

“They take what they’re given,” you manage to stutter out.

“Right, because sluts don’t need to come, they’re just here so I can come, isn’t that right?”

“Mhm Tommy fuck, yours, your slut, please please come in me,” you groan as Tom gently grips your throat.

“Want me to fill you up? Fill your cunt? You’re gonna be stuffed full sweetheart, gonna be dripping by the time I’m done.”

“Yes! Tom please please fill me up, need it, need you,” you whine as his grip tightens.

“Just so fucking tight huh, gonna try to keep my come inside of you?”

“Yes, please, give it to me, yours, yours, yours,” you begin to chant as his hips press deliciously against yours and you feel how close you are as Tom comes with a groan of your name. He gently releases your throat and lowers your thigh to the bed.

He slowly pulls out of you, “keep that pussy nice and tight for me okay?”

You nod, whimpering as you felt his come begin to drip out of you anyways.

“Aww did someone get fucked so good their slutty pussy is fucked open?”

“Mhm trying Tommy,” you whimper as he runs a finger through the mix of his and Jake’s come and gently rubbing your clit with it.

“Not good enough though huh? That’s okay baby, can’t help it sometimes,” he grins, watching as your hips begin to rise to meet his finger against your clit.

“Please Tom.”

“What do you want?”

“Don’t let me come,” you gasp as he brings you right to the edge before slipping his finger away.

“Gonna start acting like a good slut now? Asking me not to come? Who’s are you baby?”

Tom edges you several times, each time you got close he’d ask you who’s you were. And you’d respond, breather and needier each time.

“Mhm, yours Tommy.”

Tom moves his finger off your clit and crawls up your body.

“And I’m yours,” Tom responds, kissing your forehead before picking you up, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

[stars-in-my-universe]

Need You: Tyler Seguin

Please let me know what you think and if you would like more. I don’t know what this was, I just felt like I needed to write Tyler with a baby in some sort of way and this is what came out! Let me know what you all think.

Warnings: Cussing.

Prt 2.

Prt.3

To be fair, when you had your daughter Tyler and the guys were in the playoffs that week. You really didn’t expect any of them to come by, however you also knew that they had lost and were kicked out of the playoffs that same week meaning they no longer had any upcoming games which made you think maybe he would stop by. But you were completely wrong. Jamie and Katie did come visit you when you were out of the hospital and safe and settled in your apartment in Dallas. 

They had told you about the season and asked how the birth went, which you were honest. It was hard. You had your mom there as well as your sister and your best friend but it was still hard, pushing a baby out of you was not how you pictured yourself at 24. You were no saint and like Tyler, you had a wild past. You guys had partied together and had become best friends, always sharing your stories over some wine and pizza, which is why it killed you when you had told Tyler that you were pregnant from a one night stand; apparently rubbers and the day after pill wasn’t enough. He didn’t say much, he kind of congratulated you and asked you how you were going to do this alone? You remember being a mess and crying on his couch, telling him you didn’t know. You had a good job, that wasn’t the problem it was more so how you were going to raise a child alone. 

You were also a mess because you realized that you had started developing feelings for your best friend and now with the tiny human growing in you, you knew you had no chance now. Not like you had a chance before, you weren’t the kind of girl he went out with. It killed you even more when your pregnancy had progressed and Tyler had distanced himself from you, only ever coming around for big events and that was it, you also had stopped going over to his house parties realizing no one wants a pregnant girl around. Closer to your due date you had finally accepted the fact that there had been a shift in your friendship and now it was four months later, you had a baby girl and Tyler had gone MIA on you, posting on instagram only and actively ignoring your texts. So you finally gave up. Your nights of partying till 4 am had changed to doing research on what baby furniture you needed and baby proofing the apartment. Your life had completely changed whether you wanted it to or not. 

Jamie and Ben surprisingly still game around from time to time, but the captain and goalie never mentioned their assist captain to you, no matter how many times you wanted to ask them how he was. You had come to terms you’d probably only see him maybe during the season which was quickly approaching but you didn’t expect him to show up on your doorstep one day.

“Avaaaaaaa” You sang your daughters name as she sat on the floor surrounded by stuffed animals, some your mom gave you and some your best childhood best friend had given you. You continued to fold clothes and keep an eye on her, as she shook one of her toys in her hands and threw it on the floor.

“Are you being silly, Ava?” She let out a garbled noise which you took as a yes. You got up to put the towels away when there was a knock on the door making you stop. You hadn’t expected anyone today and your mom usually called if she was going to stop by. You put the towels down and bent down to pick Ava up who happily cooed as you held her in your arms. You placed a kiss on her hand that she kept shoving in your face making you laugh. Opening the door you turned to face the visitor and before you could catch yourself you went to slam the door shut. 

“Y/N!” Tyler’s foot shot out blocking the door from closing all the way. He was the last person you expected to see on your door step.

“What the fuck do you want Tyler?” You really tried to not cuss in front of Ava but today was an exception.

“I just want to talk, apologize, for-”

“Oh go fuck yourself Tyler.” You were pissed and Ava could tell because before you knew it she was in tears, screaming making you groan. If you went to calm her down He’d be able to get in, but you couldn’t stand here with your door open and a screaming baby, your neighbors did like you.

“Just go away, Tyler. I have to put her down.” He let out a huff but didn’t move.

“Let me see her, I want to see her.” You flinched as Ava let out another cry.

“You gave up your write to see her when you decided to ignore my texts and disappear.” Another cry. You let out a ‘fuck’ and stepped away from the door watching as the door flung open and Tyler nearly falling through the doorway onto the floor. You ignored him as you went into your room to put Ava in her crib, laying her down you had turned her twinkle lights that hung over her crib on and turned on her animal mobile that played soothing sounds when you needed her to calm down. She immediately stopped crying and looked above her, her eyes following the little lion and zebra as they went in a circle. You smiled down at her and tucked her in knowing she was probably going to take a nap. Turning on the baby monitor by the crib and grabbing the other one, you closed your bedroom door halfway and made your way back into the living room where you had left the pain the ass. 

You watched as Tyler stood by your book shelf in the living room that used to be littered with pictures of your party days. Now it was pictures from your baby shower, Ava being born, your sonograms, your mom with Ava. She really was your world now. You eyed Tyler as he took in the pictures; he looked good as he always did. He had bulked up a bit over the summer, his snapback on his head, his beard neatly trimmed. This wasn’t anything new, Tyler always looked good.

“I won’t repeat myself again, Tyler. What the fuck do you want?” He jumped at your voice which was significantly lower due to Ava. You watched as he rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he had.

“I just want to apologize and talk. Let me explain myself.” You rolled your eyes.

“You left Tyler, out of my life. You were my best friend and you just disappeared.” He watched as you moved around the room, a habit you had when you were stressed. You couldn’t sit still.

“I got scared!” You wanted to slap him.

“Scared? I was scared Tyler, I was going to have a baby by myself and I needed my best friends there. But you just left. How dare you say you were scared!” He didn’t say anything, you could feel the anger and the hurt radiate through your body. 

“How could you be scared? All you had to do was be supportive, I didn’t ask you for anything else. I had-”

“I was scared because I was in love with you!” 

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me- Chapter 85

Warnings:  profanity, violence, mentions of blood, mild torture, very minor references to rape 

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @tragiclyhip​

He briefly loses consciousness,  succumbing to shock and blood loss. When he comes to he’s disoriented. Head swimming and vision blurred; vaguely aware of combined smells of sweat,  urine,  and pure filth. A lone voice to his right;  volume muted and its words garbled, making him feel as if he’s attempting to listen and decipher while being submerged underwater. He feels groggy and weak; head swaying back and forth and from side to side, eyes repeatedly blinking in an attempt to acknowledge and recognize his surroundings. At first he thinks he’s back on the Sultana Kamal Bridge, leaning back against the side of an abandoned and bullet ridden sedan. Right leg rendered useless and the strong metallic taste of blood in his mouth; crimson rivers escaping his lips and trickling down his chin. Chest feeling as if it’s on fire; sheer agony created by a sniper’s bullet that ripped through his back and plunged into his chest. The tightness in his left lung; the distinct rattling and wheezing noise he makes every time he attempts to draw a breath.

It’s seven years ago and he’s back on that bridge. Exhausted and in pain; feeling all semblance of strength and hope...of LIFE...seeping out of him. But there’s no visions this time; no delirious moment where he sees the blurry yet unmistakable image of his dead son. He can hear   laughter though. Faint yet musical; a beautiful sound that somehow cuts through the grogginess and the thick fog of pain and manages to bring a weak smile to his face. And their voices; happy and excited as they call to him. His oldest daughter and his twin boys; giggling as they encourage him to follow them. To run and play and throw them over his head; that blind faith and trust that he’ll always be there to catch them.

Another voice now. Older and deeper. And he tightly squeezes his eyes shut and tries to identify it. Rich in tone and possessing a slow, Southern drawl; a discernible twang that evokes the smell of leather and cheap whisky. A chuckle accompanies it; one that’s both menacing and amused. It’s followed by the shuffle of boots along dirty and cracked cement; a sound that grows as it slowly approaches him.  He opens his eyes when senses their presence; a hazy figure briefly standing at his side before  crouching  down to his level. And as the grogginess begins to lift and his consciousness begins to return, he expects to see fourteen year old Ovi next to him; clad in a dirty t-shirt that is monstrous on his tall, slender frame and jeans a few sizes too big. The words are on the tip of his tongue -“You see that helicopter? I need you to run as fast as you can for it”- but they never leave his lips; forming in his brain yet no sound emerging. But it isn’t a kind, comforting hand that reaches for his now. It's one that is rough and callused and violently yanks his head up by his hair.

“Wake up!” Nathan snarls, and tosses a cup of dirty water in his face. “I’m nowhere near through with you.”

The pain is intense. Beginning at the small of his back and travelling the entire length of spine. Some of the feeling has returned to his legs; extremely limited mobility, but he’s able to move his feet ever so slightly and weakly wiggle his toes. He can smell the blood; sharp and metallic. It soaks his left shoulder and stretches from one hip to the other;  aware that it drips down his arm and off his fingers and trickles down his legs. And as he becomes more lucid, the reality of the situation and his environment returns. Able to recall the moments before he passed out. The phone call from his wife and the concern and panic in her voice as she told him about the letter -the REAL letter- from the Marine Corps; her pleading for him to just walk away and let them handle the situation. It was too late by then. By the time hung up, Nathan was already on the move; free of the restraints around his wrists, a revolver in his hand. And something wicked in his eyes and something even more sinister that dripped from his words; a smirk tugging at his lips as he wasted no time in pulling the trigger.

Tyler struggles against the hand firmly gripping his hair; thrashing his head from side to side, his  legs feebly attempting to push himself away from the dirty surface his stomach is pressed against. It’s futile; he can barely feel anything from the waist down and his arms are out of commission; tightly restrained behind back, the plastic of the zip ties cutting into his skin. He tries to call out for help, but all words are held back; stopped by the soiled rag that has been crudely stuffed into his mouth.  A mixture of blood and sweat drips into his eyes. A large, vicious gash across the top of his right eyebrow; the  result of catching his face on the door frame when the gunshot had pitched his body forward.  

He’s able to register his surroundings. Captive in the locker that previously held Neysa and Aarev; face down on the soiled mattress. The odour hits him at full strength now; a combination of old sweat, stale piss, feces, and puke. His stomach lurches; chest heaving and retching, eyes watering and this throat burning when he’s forced to swallow his own vomit; unable to properly expel it with the makeshift gag shoved in his mouth.

“You’re just a mess, aren’t ya,” Nathan chuckles, then releases the grip from Tyler’s hair; shoving his face into the mattress and holding it there until he’s struggling to breathe and squirming against both the bonds around his wrists and the hand pressing down on the back of his head. “Not so tough now, are ya? So much for the big, bad Tyler Rake. You’re losing your touch; nothing thinking as quick as you used to. Turning your back like that? Maybe your brain is more fucked up than everyone thinks.”

“Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit!” The words are muffled against the fabric in his mouth, and Nathan gives a smirk of both annoyance and amusement.  Then uses his index and middle fingers to shove the rag even further; until it touches the back of Tyler’s throat, making him gag and retch once more.

“Used to be a time where people were afraid of you or admired you,” Nathan muses. “I don't think they’ll feel either of those now; kind of hard to be afraid of someone that’s been reduced to such a pathetic piece of shit. How does it feel? To be knocked off that pedestal of yours?”

He once more struggles against the restraints. Curling his hands into tight fists and tightening his forearms; attempting to yank his wrists apart with enough force to break the heavy plastic. Relegated to dropping  his forehead against the mattress and groaning into it with a mix of frustration, rage, and pain.

“You don’t give up, I’ll give you that much. Apparently it takes a lot more than shooting you in the back to take you out of the game. Guess you’ve got a bit of fight left in you after all.”

Tyler feels the mattress sink and sway underneath him as Nathan looms over him; one knee alongside of him as the other hovers over the small of his back and a hand once more grips his hair. And he screams into both the gag and the mattress when the younger man presses his knee against the fresh bullet wound; his entire body weight coming down on the injured area. The pain is intense; sharp and agonizing, causing his entire body to lock up as a defence mechanism. His vision blurs and his head swims; the numbness in his feet increasing and mobility worsening in his legs. Yet he manages to fight back; thrashing wildly against the mattress as he attempts to shake the former Marine off of him.

“You got some balls, Rake, I’ll give you that,” Nathan smirks, and finally removes his knee from Tyler’s back. “Guess you haven’t learned your lesson, huh? You fuck with the wrong people, this is what happens. It catches up to you; sooner or later. Now do me a favour...look up…” he yanks Tyler’s head back by the hair. “...you see that?” he nods at the cell phone perched on a chair at the foot of the mattress. “See what I’m doing there? We’re gonna save this little moment of ours. For prosperity. So I can look back on this moment fondly. WHILE I’m pissing on your grave. And fucking that cute little wife of yours.”

“Fuck you!”

“What was that?” Nathan yanks the rag from Tyler’s mouth. “Did you just say ‘fuck you’? Is that what you said? I think you’ve got this all wrong. I’m going fuck HER. Whether she wants me to or not. And there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it.”

“I will fucking kill you!” Tyler rages “With my bare fucking hands! If you go anywhere near my wife, I will fucking bury you!”

“You’re not exactly in the position to be making threats. I seem to be the one in control here. And trust me, when she sees this little video of you? When she sees what a pathetic little bitch she’s married to? She’s going to ask me for it; beg for it from a real man.”

“I swear to God, if you go anywhere near her…”

“You know, now that I think of it, that little girl of yours is quite the looker. Blond hair, blue eyes, cute little smile. She’s actually more my type. I prefer them a bit older, but I’d be willing to make an exception.”

“You motherfucker! You touch her...you go anywhere near her…and I will kill you and everyone you love! I will hunt them down one by one and put a bullet in their heads! You stay away from my daughter, you stay away from my wife, or…”

“Or? Or what? You won’t be around to protect them. And it’s not just me you have to worry about. There’s more of us out there. Mahajan’s been more than generous with the money. Everyone has a price, Rake. Except for holier than thou, self righteous you, of course. You had the chance; to be rich. All you had to do was give up the kid and the girl. But you didn’t take it. All because you had to be a hero.”

“I’m no hero. I’m just not a psychotic piece of shit. Who am I talking to right now? Which one of your personalities?  Which one of your imaginary friends?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Or WHO you’re talking to.”

“I’m talking to a fucking psycho. A little bitch who couldn’t beat me in a fair fight so he shot me from behind. That’s a change for you, yeah? Seeing as you spent the last week and a half taking it from behind.”

Nathan scowls, then shoves two fingers deep into the bullet hole at the small of Tyler’s back.

He bites back the scream that threatens to erupt, but can’t control the tears of agony that stream down his face.

“Pathetic piece of shit,” Nathan laughs, then rummages through the pockets on the back of Tyler’s vest; searching until he finds the knife. “You’ve always been pretty popular with the ladies, I heard. The muscles, the pretty blue eyes, the voice. Even Nik was quite smitten with you at one point from what she told me. She’s a nice girl; that Nik. Smart, beautiful, wicked body. Not that great in bed, but…” he shrugs. “...you can teach ‘em and train ‘em, right? Did you know she was in love with you? That she was willing to slum for you? That she would have been more than happy to spend the rest of her life completely devoted to you, waiting on you hand and foot, giving you babies. That must have been a hard decision; Nik or Esme. I don’t envy you for having to make it.”

“There was no decision to make. It was always Esme. It always WILL be her.”

“You broke Nik’s heart you know; picking her friend over her. I don’t think you ever quite appreciated just how she felt about you. Everything she was willing to give up for you. And I get it, I do. You had to make a choice. Believe me, I think you made the right one. The little ones are the freaks in bed, am I right?”

“Fuck you,” Tyler retorts. “Don’t talk about my wife like that. Don’t even say her name. Get your name out of your fucking mouth.”

“Defending your woman at all costs. I like that. I admire it, actually. But…” Nathan moves up the makeshift bed, straddling Tyler’s body and then sitting down on his upper back, pinning him to the mattress. “...I still think you need to be taught a lesson. Nik deserves that.”

He sees the flint that comes off the blade of the knife as Nathan brings it into view. Hand moving towards his face and bringing the tip to rest under his right eye; pressed against the middle of his orbital bone. When  he feels it puncture the skin, he attempts to fight back; summoning the will to dig the toes of his boots into the mattress, hips raising slightly and then giving out. Not enough power or mobility; the blood loss and the bullet lodged somewhere in his lower spine robbing him of any semblance of strength.   And as the knife presses even further  and the tip touches bone, he vows not to scream; biting down on his tongue instead as a brutally deep and slow slice is made from the middle of his eye to his temple.

Once the damage is inflicted, Nathan calmly cleans the bloody blade on the back of Tyler’s shirt, then returns the knife to the pocket on his vest.  “You know,  I did like you at first,” he says, as climbs off the mattress, momentarily abandoning his prey. “I liked you a lot, actually.”

The lightheadedness returns; that groggy sensation that comes from blood loss and when your system starts to go into shock. And despite the pain coursing through him and the weakness that envelopes him, Tyler manages to roll himself onto his back. His vision is blurred; a combination of the haziness that comes before passing out, sweat, and the blood that now covers his face.  It coats his lips; the metallic taste strong on his tongue. And he lies there in the middle of the soiled and filthy mattress; eyes closed as he draws in rapid, ragged breaths. Arms still struggling to free his wrists from the plastic ties that hold them together.

“Don’t pass out on me now,” Nathan says, as he once more kneels on the mattress, a crowbar in his hand. “I’m not done having fun with you yet. I want to make sure Mahajan gets his money’s worth. “

“He’s dead. Mahajan. He died about half an hour ago.”

“Bullshit.”

“Anil killed him. We planned it; he’d kill Mahajan while we made our way in here.”

“You’re lying.”

“He put two in the old man’s head. In the shower room at the prison. It’s over. And if you haven’t gotten paid yet, you never will. There’s not going to be any money.”

“You’re fucking lying!” Nathan snarls, and with an end of the crowbar in each hand, leans over Tyler and attempts to press it into his throat.  

Tyler immediately reacts.  Smashing his forehead into the younger man’s face; immediately shattering his nose and knocking out his top front teeth. Then he draws both knees into his body and slams them into Nathan’s chest, breaking several ribs and sending him sprawling onto the floor.   He seizes the opportunity as the former Marine curls into a fetal position and bellows in pain; using the last of his strength to  push himself up into a sit. His legs are operating at half power -if not less- and his feet are almost completely numb, but he manages to push himself off the mattress and onto the cement below; forcing himself up onto his knees and then shuffling on them towards the door.

“You stupid prick!” Nathan rages, and lands a kick to the back of Tyler’s head.

His vision momentarily goes black and his forehead and nose collide with the cement; a sickening crunch echoing through the room. And he’s unable to control the scream that erupts from his mouth when the crowbar connects with the back of his right thigh, fracturing the femur. He has nothing left; sight blinded by the impending loss of consciousness and a blanket of blood. His entire body is useless now; sheer agony ripping through every inch of him, all feeling now absent in both legs.  And he's gasping and panting for breath when Nathan once more leans over him; the cell phone directly in front of his face and the muzzle of his own gun pressed against the back of his head.

“Do you have anything to say?” Nathan asks. “To your wife? To your kids? Look at the camera. Let them see you alive for one last time.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Look at them!” the younger man orders, and slams his heel down onto the bullet wound in Tyler’s back. “I said fucking look at them! Say something!”

“No. I won’t.  I won’t do it. I have nothing to say. She knows. She already knows. She’s always known.”

“At least say goodbye. They deserve that, don’t you think? A goodbye?”

“I don’t say that word. WE don’t say it. We never say it.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much anyway. You’ll get to see your wife and kids soon. That’s if you all end up in the same place. And not before me and the other guys have some with your wife and your little girls.”

“You fucking prick! You’ll pay for this. I promise you that. You’ll fucking pay.”

“You first,” Nathan says, and moves the gun to Tyler’s temple. “Fitting, huh? How it all begins and ends in Dhaka?”

Through his blurred and weakening vision he sees it. Mere inches from his face. Toes and soles of dirty combat boots in the doorway and the tattered and weathered fabric of cargo pants.  The gunshot is deafening within the locker, and when the full weight of Nathan’s body falls onto his, the pain and the darkness finally take over. Eyes closing and cheek colliding with the floor.

*****

When Tyler comes to he’s once more in the back of the panel van; lying on his left side with a bucket -half full of expelled stomach contents- tipped towards his face. He can feel the telltale stickiness; the blood on his face and lips quickly drying.  It’s worse than before; both the pain and the all over weakness. His vision blurry and his head swimming; no feeling or movement in either of his legs. If he had the energy he’d be terrified; panicking at the inability to even wiggle his toes or move his feet within his boots. But he has nothing left; no strength, no will, no hope. All his limbs and his head feel impossibly heavy; eyes and brain unable to focus on what is going on around him.  

Voices. Koen and Rata. They’ve abandoned their usual banter and their off hand and cutting remarks; both serious as they talk in low, even tones that do little to hide the fear and worry. And he can hear the rumble of the engine and the crunch of tires on gravel; each light bump or hard brake feeling as if he’s being rocked to his very core.

“What the fuck…” he manages, and attempts to sit up; his surroundings spinning out of control around him.

“Whoa...whoa…” Koen lays a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to lie down. “...easy now, mate. Easy. Don’t move too much. Don’t want to make things worse. We got ya.”

“My legs…I can’t feel my legs...” he raises his head and looks down at the limbs in question; eyes narrowing in confusion at the sight of an unknown object sticking out his thigh; thick and jagged, tearing straight through the fabric of his pants. And his head pounds and spins when the horror sets in; the realization that he’s staring down at a piece of his shattered femur protruding from his body. “What the fuck is that? What….?”

Rata gives a grim, almost apologetic smile and then yanks his shirt over his head; using it to cover Tyler’s thigh.

“Why can’t I feel my legs? Why the fuck is there a bone sticking out of them? What the hell…?”

“You took one to the back,” Koen explains. “Pretty low down. And your right leg is  broken up pretty good. Probably just the shock; the reason you can’t feel anything.”

“What the fuck is going on? What happened? What…?”

“Just try and relax,” Rata says, and shuffles closer to him; using a makeshift towel made from a torn up t-shirt to stem the flow of blood that comes from the cut across Tyler’s face. “We’re almost there. Just hang in there, mate. Won’t be much longer.”

“Chopper?” he asks.

“Hospital.”

“I can’t go to the fucking hospital! Not here. Not Dhaka. Mumbai.”

“There’s no time to get to Mumbai,” Koen informs him, and presses a rag to the gunshot wound in Tyler’s lower back. “You’ll be dead before we get there. You’ll bleed out.”

“Bleed out?” The confusion and disorientation make his head throb. “What happened? Did we get them? Neysa and Aarev?”

“They’re safe,” Rata assures him. “You got them out. They’re safe now.”

“I can’t stop it,” Koen anxiously frets. “There’s just  too fucking much of it! It just keeps coming and I can’t stop it!”

“Is it bad?” Tyler weakly inquires. “How bad is it? My back.”

“Don’t you even worry about it. We’ll get you to the hospital and get you taken care of.”

“I asked how bad it was!” His hands begin patting his stomach and sides down, searching for an exit wound. “Is it my liver? Did it hit my liver?”

“Could have nicked it,” Koen says. “No way of telling for sure. Just lie still and let us take care of you. Let us get you to the hospital.”

“My phone. I need my phone. Where’s my phone?”

“You don’t need your goddamn phone!” Koen snarls. “What the hell would you need that for?”

“You need to get it. My phone. There’s a video. He took it. Nathan. He was going to send it to her. I need you to get it. My phone.”

Koen reaches into the side pocket of his own cargo pants, pulling out the item in question.

“Check it,” Tyler tells him. “Check the last message sent. And the email. Check if he sent it.”

Koen does what he’s told, then shakes his head. “Nothing. There’s nothing been sent.”

“Erase it. She can’t see it. She can NEVER see it. Get rid of it. You gotta erase it.  I don’t want her seeing that.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Koen assures him, and his eyes narrow when he finds the file in question; jaw clenching with rage as he watches the first thirty seconds before quickly deleting it. “That sick mother fucker”

“Call her,” Tyler instructs. “I need to talk to her.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, mate. I don’t think…”

“Call her,” he insists. “I need you to call her. I need to make sure she’s okay. I need to hear her voice. Call her.”

Sighing heavily, Koen reluctantly dials the first number in the call history, then holds the phone to his friend’s ear.

“Tyler?” She answers on the second ring, voice frantic. “Oh my God...Tyler…”

“Hey, baby…” he manages, the mere sound of her voice causing a smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. “Are you okay? Everything’s good there?”

“I’m okay. Things are fine here. Quiet.”

“What about the kids? Did you hear from them? Did you call them? Are they alright?”

“Nik called a little ago and said they’re okay. Not even a single scare or even the slightest threat in Mumbai. She said it was just like any other day. That the kids were outside playing with Ovi and Kyle; Addie was taking a nap. Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m not okay,” he admits, and chokes back a sob. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. What happened? How bad is it? How bad are YOU?”

“Pretty bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I can’t come and get you.”

“Tyler…” her voice cracks with emotion. “...you’re going to be okay...you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think so, baby. Not this time.”

“Don’t say that,” Esme gently scolds. “Don’t talk like that. You don’t give up, remember? You don’t know the meaning of those words. You never have.  You survived seven years ago and you’ll survive now. I know you will.”

“I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry. I didn’t want it to end this way.”

“Nothing is ending. It’s nowhere close to the end. You’re going to be fine. You’ll get looked at it and you’ll be fine. You’re always fine.”

“Tell the kids I love them. That I’ll always love them. And tell Ovi too. And that I’m so fucking proud of him.  Tell them all that I wish it could have been different.”

“Don’t do this. Don’t you dare do this. Don’t you say your goodbyes. You NEVER say that word. You don’t believe in that word, remember?”

“I’ve always loved you. I always will. I need you to know that. It’s important that you know that.”

“I DO know. I’ve always known. And I love you. So much. I’ll get there as soon as I can, I promise. You just hang in there, okay? I’ll get to you. Somehow. Just don’t give up, alright? You’re not allowed to give up, Tyler Rake.”

“I gotta go.”

“No. Don’t,” Esme tearfully pleads. “Don’t hang up. Please don’t hang up. Tyler…”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and disconnects the call. Phone dropping from his hand as he once more slips into unconsciousness.

*****

She’s unsure of how long she’s been pacing the floor; bare feet repeatedly shuffling against the polished tiles in the kitchen. Cell phone clutched tightly in one hand, the other moving over the top and sides of the small -but very visible- baby bump. It’s comforting regardless how far along she is or how much she is -or isn’t-  showing; palm travelling over her stomach in slow, smooth circles.

“Hang in there little bean,” Esme pleads aloud. “I need you to stay calm and hang in there, alright? Because now is NOT the time to be giving me issues. We need to stay calm. Or try to. Daddy needs us to be okay…” her voice cracks with emotion. “...daddy needs you to hang in there. Because once he’s all better, he’s going to watch you grow and rub my tummy and talk to you all the  time. He’s going to teach you all about surfing and you tell you what life is like in Australia. And before you know it, you’ll recognize his voice; just like all your brothers and sisters did. And it’s a nice voice. A VERY nice voice. And you’ll kick and squirm for him every time he talks to you. So you HAVE to hang in there. Daddy needs another surfing buddy. He always says he can never have too many of those. Or maybe it’s a football team he’s trying to build. Maybe THAT’S why he wants so many kids. I’m onto him.”

The cell phone beeps in her hand, alerting her to a text message. Nik. Asking her if she’s heard anything yet. It’s only been ten minutes since the last time the woman checked in, and the answer remains the same. No calls, no texts. Tyler’s phones -both SAT and personal- immediately going to voicemail. Esme has left several messages; everything from stressed yet calm,  to worried and tearful, and then ending with irrational and frantic.  Begging him…begging ANYONE...to let her know what the hell is going on.

Her stomach flutters and grumbles; nerves had kept her from eating all morning. Constant butterflies that are more painful than pleasant, and accompanied by incessant nausea that holds the promise of disappearing as soon as she forces herself to be sick, but only continues to gnaw at her insides. Rationally she knows that now is not the time to be thinking about food; her phone could start coming to life any minute or Koen and Rata could come barging through the door to whisk her away to a hospital to be by Tyler’s side.  

Or they could show up with the worst possible news; that  the brief phone call with him was in fact the last time she’d ever hear his voice.  That whatever happened to him…whatever had gone down at that storage facility...had just been too much for an already damaged body, vulnerable mind, and near broken spirit to withstand. Yet he hadn’t sounded THAT bad; exhausted and weak but certainly not close to death. She would have been able to pick up on that.  Surely there would have been something in his voice or in his words. She’d heard pain and fear and worry, but hadn’t heard DEATH.

It’s something she’s accustomed with; many a first hand experience as people lay dying around her in the Middle East. She’s held countless hands as fellow Marines and even strangers - innocent civilians- took their last breaths. That rattle they make; the last of the air being expelled from failing lungs. The desperation and the pleading in their voices; requests for comfort and miraculous healing and eventual mercy. She didn’t hear any of that. And what she did hear could have been nothing more than the byproduct of fear and concern; a man in physical agony that didn’t truly believe he was dying, but was desperate for relief.

“No,” she orders into the quiet of the kitchen. “No. He's fine. He’s going to be fine. He’s always fine.”

She attempts to distract herself from fatalistic thoughts, moving now to the fridge and throwing the door wide open. Rummaging through the fully stocked shelves and compartments and finding nothing appealing and growing more frustrated with each passing second. The futile search and the determined growling of her stomach suddenly becomes too much to bear and profanities spill from her mouth as tears stream down her face. Angrily slamming the fridge door shut; its contents rattling noisily in response.

“Esme?” Koen stands in the doorway; the front of his shirt and the thighs of his cargo pants saturated in blood. It stains his hands as well; caught in every crevice and crack and gathered around his calluses and under his nails. His face is grim; eyes dark, fresh bruises and cuts decorating both cheeks and under one eye.

“Tell me he’s okay,” she pleads, one hand tightening around her phone,  the other once more finding her baby bump. “Please tell me he’s okay.”

“I…” Koen begins, then clamps his mouth shut and slowly shakes his head.

“No.” The sob is choked as it comes out of her mouth. “No. You’re not here to tell me this. You’re not here for THAT. I know you’re not here for THAT.”

“Esme...”

“No,” she firmly repeats, and suddenly the room feels as if it’s spinning. Panic settles in, making her feel nauseous and lightheaded. Her entire body swaying as she takes a step towards him. “No.  It can’t be THAT. It can’t be.”

The next step she takes is wobbly; her legs threatening to give out from underneath her. And she finds herself caught in her friend’s strong embrace; his body warm and soothing as he pulls her tightly into him. A comforting hand on the middle of her back, the other resting in her hair.

“This can’t be happening,” she sobs into his shoulder. “This isn’t happening. Please tell me it’s not. Tell me he’s not dead. Tell me he’s okay.”

“He’s not dead. But he’s not okay either.”

“How bad is he?”

“I don’t even know.”

“How bad does he look?”

“Pretty damn bad.”

“Where is he now?”

“Still here. In Dhaka.”

She frowns. “Why not Mumbai? You guys have a chopper. Why not get him out of here? Get him somewhere safe? Mumbai would have been a better choice. Why didn’t…?”

“There was no time.”

“Where is he?”

“Evercare Hospital.  It’s one of the private ones. Run by that doctor that Anil sent over the night. He’s  in good hands there; best care he can get, I promise. When I left he was still in the ER. They were looking after him and trying to figure out what tests they needed to do; so they could figure out what they’re looking at and how to take care of him. He was breathing on his own, though. No tubes. At least not yet.”

“But it isn’t safe here,” Esme argues. “In Dhaka. The bounty….”

“There’s no more bounty. It’s been lifted.”

“It’s over?”

“It’s all over. Asif’s people are dead. So is Mahajan. There’s no one left.”

“What about Neysa and Aarev?”

“Safe. He got them out.”

“And Nathan? He’s the one who did this, right? He’s the one who hurt Tyler?”

Koen nods.

“Is he dead? Tell me he’s dead.”

“He’s dead. I made sure of it.”

“You killed him?”

“I emptied an entire magazine in his head and face.”

“Good,” she says, and defiantly holds back a flood of tears. “Thank you. For doing that for Tyler. Thank you.”

Koen once more embraces her tightly, hands slowly running up and down her back.

“And he was breathing?" Esme asks. “On his own? He didn’t need to be intubated?”

“Needed a bit of oxygen; through those tubes that go in your nose. Doctor was pretty surprised; said he’s never seen someone that torn up that didn’t need more help. That’s a good sign, yeah? That he didn’t need more help? Shows how strong he is.”

“Or stubborn. Or both. You’ll take me there? To Tyler?”

“That’s what I’m here for. Are you okay? You gonna be alright?”

“Probably not,” she admits. “But I guess I have to be. For him. He needs me to be alright. You know how Tyler is. Even when he’s at his worst or he’s suffering and in pain, all he worries about is me. Never himself. Just me.”

“Well he’s a fool in love. What do you expect?”

“I’ll have to find my things. I have no idea where anything is. My purse, my shoes…”

“Saw both out in the front hall.”

“My phone.”

He grins. “It’s in your hand.”

Esme glances down. “Oh fuck. I AM losing it.”

“Come here, kiddo.”  Koen draws her into another tight hug, a hand on the back of her head, guiding it down to his shoulder. “He’s gonna pull through. He always does.  He’s a tough little bastard. Well maybe not so little. But tough. And a bastard.”

She manages a small laugh.

“And when he opens his eyes, your face is going to be the first thing he sees. Just like seven years ago. And trust me; there ain’t no better medicine than that.”

“I need him to be okay. I need him to get through this. For me, For the kids. For this baby. I need him, Koen. I can’t lose him.”

“You won’t,” he promises,  and gives her a tight, reassuring squeeze and drops a kiss on the top of her head.  With a comforting smile, he places  a hand on the small of her back and leads her from the room.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Brain on Fire

[Tour!verse]

TW: Violence

———————

“Hey, queens,” The music director’s slurred, croaking voice resonates in each of the queen’s earpieces. “You-you guys are doing great, but...I’m gonna get Michelle to come- to come play the rest of the show for me. I-I don’t f-feel too good. I-I think I’m- I’m gonna- I... I’m sorry.”

—————

The soft tune of smooth jazz played through the underground café. The place was almost empty aside from the woman at the counter and a lone customer near the corner.

The third addition to the café entered: a scrawny, thin little thing with hair so white it doesn’t even seem blonde anymore. Any skin that could be seen was grimy and pale. Her dark brown eyes were heavy with bags from lack of sleep. She’s wearing some basic clothes, but they looked a little too big on her.

“Coffee,” She croaked to the lady behind the counter.

The worker nods, retreating behind a plain black door. Upon returning, the girl has taken up a seat on one of the barstools, slumped partway over the countertop. Her eyes drift restlessly over the scars on the counter's tarnished surface. She looks up when a cup and saucer is set in front of her, trailing steam. It smells ordinary.

Leaning over the cup to let the whorls invade her lungs, Joan hums vaguely. Making any noise will hurt, but the steam itself feels kind of nice.

In an effort to be polite, Joan smiles thinly. Out of the corner of her eye, she's watching the other customer. Brown-haired, slumped over in the seat with its head down, humming to itself.

When she looked up again, the lady was gone. She shivered and left some money on the counter and her coffee untouched. She slid out of the stool and just stood aimlessly at the bar. Her head is starting to hurt. The fear deep within her bubbles up and up and up.

What the hell was she doing? Did she think being here was going to do some good for her? So she could brag about how she went out to a near-barren underground café instead of staying at the theater working?

(She was missing so much work)

This wasn’t going to make the others want to be around her again. This wasn’t going to make them like her.

Sighing, she turned to leave, and that’s when her brittle wrists were grabbed.

“How rude,” Said the customer from the corner. “Leaving without saying hello.”

Joan is too shocked to voice her distress. Her eyes are wide and bulging, but she tries to struggle, not wanting to give in this easily (not again).

Joan twists her arms and yanked backwards, slipping free. She glares at the man before her.

“Do you greet everyone like that?” The man asked, obviously trying to set her off again.

It did.

Joan, feeling liquid fire burning through her veins, lunges forward to attack, using a stool as her weapon of choice.

This is what she should have done in her past life- fight, not sit by and let some entitled, piece of shit man beat her to pieces.

But then she saw the gleam of a pipe and heard the ugly, familiar sound of bones cracking. Something connected with her chest; she was on the ground, little starbursts flitting in and out of her vision.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?”

He grabbed her by the head and hooks his dirty fingers in the red hot crevice on the back of her skull, making his victim whine in pain.

“It was just trying to enjoy a drink, and then you come along and ruin my break. That’s all you do, really. I can tell.”

He shakes her head wildly for a moment before letting go, watching her slump to the ground.

Joan feels dazed. Her right ear was ringing painfully, while the other leaked blood. She’s crying, maybe. Clawing at the floorboards, writhing around like she’s trying to wiggle out of her own skin. She’s soon gasping and wheezing in the midst of pain. Red bubbles from her lips and she chokes on her struggle. It makes the man laugh.

“Go ahead,” He taunted. “Bleed out and die, see if it changes anything. Let’s see if it makes anyone care. When you get back, the world will still be horrible.“

Joan whimpered pathetically. A boot comes down to press on her ribs with full weight. She feels something in her chest crack and fracture.

“You are garbage.”

The man’s boot connected to Joan’s chin with a crunch. It made everything go dark for a moment. He was stepping on her tiny, frail body, digging his heel in. He only stops when he sees her eyes shutting.

“Hey, stay with me! I’m not done having fun with y- What is it now?”

There’s a garbled, snapping voice.

“Okay! Okay! Fine!”

Due to the extent of her injuries, it's a little difficult to focus on what's going on around her, but she knows she’s being dragged to the front room where the staircase leading up to the street was.

“You're lucky,” Said the man.

He returns to the inside of the café, shutting the door and leaving Joan alone in that little room.

Inhaling is painful. Joan winces and shuts her eyes again, but it makes no difference.

————

The chilled tile of the theater bathroom floor bites Joan to the bone. She presses her aching head to it, willing the intense pain radiating throughout her skull to go away if she added enough pressure.

It didn’t.

A moan of pain bubbles up from her lips. She feels sick, she feels so sick, but the migraine is worse. Her head is being bashed open- someone is digging their hands into a crack down her scalp and pulling her head apart. It splits like a watermelon, chunks of flesh and shards of bone spewing up and out in a wondrous fountain of gore. The hands pick apart her brain, pulling out and everything and everything and everything until her brain is no more and the remainder of her head becomes a bowl of stew of mushed matter and sludge and slush that sloshes in its confinement. The goop splashes up over the edges of her fragmented, frayed cheeks, streaming like gory tears down to her chin, going drip, drip, drip onto the tile below. The fingers stir the mess and her orifices began to leak with the mushy stuff, oozing out from her nose and barely-intact-ears and mouth.

Then, she coughs and the hands rip out, becoming barbed claws that shred the flesh they pass. The cough becomes a whine and fresh tears spill down her cheeks.

It hurts so badly.

She wishes she had taken painkillers. She wishes she had went to the hospital. She wishes she hadn’t gone to that fucking underground café.

She wishes someone fucking cared.

Joan attempts to get up, but her arms won’t work. Her limbs feel tingly and numb. Everything is going dark again and she begins to cry harder.

She began to speak, but her tongue is like lead and the words come out heavily slurred and garbled. She’s begging for help, praying to any God to send someone to save her- an angel, a guardian, hell, Satan could send a demon and she would rather have the beast than be alone any longer.

Her prayers seemed to go unanswered...but then she hears a noise and an angel swathed in veils of gold appeared before her very eyes. Her gown is sparkling beneath the fluorescent lights, glimmering like little stars that were stolen from the night sky and used to adorn her dress. And if the cloth was the stars, then her skin was the milky way, so luscious and unblemished, contrasting perfectly with the twin pieces of sun that were her burning eyes.

Joan’s head lolled around to look at her. She blinked through a blizzard of black, fighting furiously against the raging ebony snow that threatened to bury her vision in a pitch avalanche. Every shred of skin along her scalp sang an agonized song of anguish when she attempted to get up again- her bruised brain begged her to stay lying down where it didn’t hurt as much, but her heart was demanding that she went to the angel.

Her heart was stronger than her brain, she knew it was, but then warmth spread through her hair and her elbows buckled- she’s back on the floor, seeing fake images floating around the room like a mobile made of cruel fantasies.

Joan whimpered. Her wet hair smears across the tile, painting it in a brilliant shade of crimson.

When she looks over, the angel is gone.

—————

Aragon rushed to retrieve a paper towel, wetting it until it was a mushy brown pulp in her hand before returning to the bathroom stall.

Joan appears to barely be conscious. Honestly, Aragon thought she had blacked out until she pressed the paper towel to the cut on the back of her head and she whined sharply in pain.

“Hush,” Aragon told her. She shifts the girl in her arms, propping her up a little more. The movement jars Joan to awareness- or, as aware as a girl with a gash on her noggin may be.

“Wh...wha...”

“Don’t speak.” Aragon said sternly. “Hold still for a moment. I’m going to pick you up, alright? Cleves pulled my car up, so it won’t be long.”

A string of slurred words fall from Joan’s lips. Her pupils are so big beneath the glaze coating her eyes.

Aragon gathers the girl up into her arms. She’s alarmed by how easy it is to lift her, but the music director’s weight and eating habits was the least of her concern right now.

People stared as she walked out to the parking lot. She did her best to disperse the looks with glares of her own, narrowing her eyes warningly at anyone who glanced over for just a bit too long. One of the more notable people who gawked was Jane. Aragon didn’t give her any attention.

During the car ride to the hospital, Joan seemed to gather herself up a little more. Her pupils have shrunk, but her eyes were still foggy. She was articulating and enunciating a little better, at least.

“A...Aragon,” She managed to say with some effort. “Where...-?”

“The hospital, Joan. You are bleeding.” Aragon said. She hadn’t meant for her voice to come out so biting, and the words nip with sharp teeth at Joan’s self esteem. She would apologize if she wasn’t so focused on speeding to he emergency room. “Something you failed to do.”

Joan flinched. She shrunk back against the car door, hunching her shoulders in. Lightning bolts of pain shoot down her neck when she tries to move it, rattling her spinal cord and making it throb, too. She just barely manages to bite back a moan of anguish.

“Aragon...”

“Don’t talk, Joan.” Aragon said.

The cut at the back of her head pulsates. She can feel her heartbeat throbbing in the bloody folds of the wound and she doesn’t think that’s normal. She tries to look at Aragon, see if her face was contorted with annoyance and rage, but a hammer comes down on her skull when she tries to. She just whimpers again.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Aragon parks and helps Joan inside (she had assured the queen that she could walk on her own, which was very much a lie). Aragon has the fill out the forms because Joan seemed to have forgotten if she was right or left handed and how to even properly use a pen.

Then, the waiting game began.

Joan started to tremble in exhaustion and pain after ten minutes of sitting in that clean-smelling waiting room. She’s hunched over slightly, swaying forward and backward and staring at the polished floor with those big, glossy eyes of hers. The cut on her head is like a beacon of scarlet, so bright and angry against her platinum hair. When Aragon looked at it, her own head began to hurt.

“Sit back,” Aragon pulled on the girl’s shoulder, getting her to recline against the back of the chair. “Do you need some water?”

“I don’t- think- I don’t think I can drink anything.” Joan said, having to think about what came out of her mouth. If she waited too long, the letters on her tongue would morph into something else entirely.

“Are you sure?”

Joan nodded. The hammer slammed down once more.

“Alright.”

Ten more minutes pass. Joan’s breathing is so shallow, now, but she’s definitely fully conscious. Her eyes dart around wildly, trying to look at every little thing at once. The shaking is more prominent. A warm trail of blood drools lazily down the back of her neck.

Aragon isn’t sure why or when she took her hand, but now Joan is clinging tightly to her. She rubs the girl’s knuckles with her thumb, which seems to be the most wonderful thing in the world to her. It makes Aragon a little sad.

Finally, after half an hour, a nurse calls Joan’s name.

The smaller hand in Aragon’s tightens and she gave it a comforting squeeze. She and Joan follow the nurse down a white hallway and into an examination room. Not that much examination was necessary- it was very clear that Joan needed more than just a little antibiotic and rest.

When the doctor declared that stitches were going to have to be put in, Joan blanched, which didn’t seem possible because she was already as white as a ghost, but here they were.

“S-stitches?” Joan squeaked when the doctor left to get everything ready.

“Yes, pumpkin,” Aragon said. The silly little pet name slipped right from her lips and she wasn’t even ashamed of it. She liked the way it sounded when referring to Joan. “You need to get your head patched up, then you’ll feel so much better.”

Joan just nodded silently. She clutched tighter to Aragon’s hand.

“I-I’m scared.” She whispered.

“I know.” Aragon did- she could feel the poor thing shaking. “But you’re gonna be just fine. I’ll be right here with you.”

Another nod.

The doctor and a few nurses enter. One of them glances at Aragon as a syringe is getting prepared.

“I’m her mother.” Aragon said without a second thought.

The nurse nodded, then brandishes a razor from the tray of tools brought it. Joan flinches back, her eyes bugging a little.

“Wh-what?”

The nurse gives her a pitiful look.

“We have to shave parts of your head, dear.” She explained gently. “Hold still, alright? This won’t hurt.”

She was right- it didn’t hurt. In fact, it tickled, but, despite Joan’s slight giggles from the vibrations against her skin, she was anything but at ease. Now she was starting to feel embarrassed. How will the crew and fans react when she shows up with parts of her head fucking shaved? She can already hear the mockery echoing in her ears.

Once the layers of stained platinum white-blonde falls away, the wound is revealed. It’s a nasty little thing- probably five inches in length with a maw that’s inflamed and swollen, crusted with half-dried blood and sticky pus. Joan whines softly when tweezers are used to pluck away any remaining strands that may have been caught in the discharge.

“This is just going to numb your head, alright?” The doctor said, showing her a syringe.

“Squeeze my hand, darling.” Aragon murmured, “Squeeze my hand.”

Joan felt a pinch in her skull and whimpered softly. Almost immediately after, she feels cool numbered spread rapidly throughout her scalp until she could barely feel the intense pounding of the hammer anymore.

“Alright, Joan,” The doctor said, “We’re going to begin, now. Are you ready?”

Seeing as she didn’t have much of a choice, Joan nodded.

She felt the first prick of the needle and the way the thread slid through her flesh, but then the feeling melted away into the gentle buzzing that filled the rest of her head.

The process of stitching up her wound was...surprisingly peaceful. She sat there on the examination table like an obedient little Samoyed puppy getting its hurt ear patched up. The nurses and doctors made idle conversation, but she didn’t really pay attention to the things they were saying. All her focus was on Aragon and her hand in her own.

Had she...really said that she was her mother? Did she actually hear that correctly? Perhaps she was just saying that to stay inside...but why would she want stick around? Wouldn’t she want to get as far away from Joan as possible?

Twenty minutes later, the final thread is snipped and bandages are applied to the stitching. As her “mother”, Aragon is informed about proper care while the cut is healing and is given antibiotics that Joan would need to take. Finally, after all of that was said and done, they’re allowed to leave.

Joan thanks Aragon profusely upon arriving to her apartment complex, but then she sees Aragon unbuckling and getting out.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She stammered.

“You really think I’m going to let you be alone?” Aragon said, raising an eyebrow. “Sorry, but I don’t trust you to take care of yourself. I’m spending the night.”

Joan didn’t argue. She knew better than to challenge Catherine of Aragon, so she let the queen help her up to her apartment and over to the couch once inside. A cat came up to greet them, rubbing up against Joan’s legs lovingly and then meowing curiously at Aragon.

“And who is this?” Aragon asked.

Joan blusher shyly. “Her name is Whatever.”

Aragon raised an eyebrow.

“When I got her, I didn’t know what to name her so I asked one of the crew members and they just said, ‘Whatever.’” Joan explained, “So I went with it.”

Aragon blinked and then laughed.

Cutie, She thought.

“I like it,” Aragon said.

Joan smiled sheepishly back at her.

“Now, what do you want for dinner?”

—————

Aragon awoke to the sound of a whimper.

Wait, no-

She hadn’t been asleep, actually, she was wide awake reading a book Cathy had recommended to her, and she was VERY invested it in (she knew her goddaughter had good taste, but not THIS GOOD). She looked up from the pages and glanced at the time displayed on the TV. It read, “11:37.”

Another whimper.

Aragon put in her bookmark and closed the book. She got up from the couch she was supposed to be sleeping on and walked to the master bedroom, where she found Joan silently crying into her blankets.

“Joan?” She whispered.

She saw the figure in the bed tense with a tiny sob.

“Joan, what’s wrong?”

No answer.

Aragon navigated her way over to the bed and flicked on the lap that was on the nightstand. The glow illuminated the tears etched down Joan’s cheeks and the pain twisting her features.

“Oh, sweetheart...” Aragon murmured, her heart clenching.

“It hurts,” Joan whispered. She was white-knuckling her blankets so tightly it was a wonder that the bone has yet to pop out. “I-it hurts so bad....”

As if getting to sleep wasn’t already hard enough. Now she has to deal with an intense, radiating burn all throughout her head.

“I’m going to go get the medicine,” Aragon said. She left quickly, returning just as fast with the antibiotics and an ice pack. “Can you sit up for me, pumpkin? Just for a moment.”

Joan nodded weakly and pushed herself up just enough to swallow the foul-tasting medicine. Almost instantly, she falls back down again and curls into a trembling ball.

“S-stay with me?” She begged, “Please, please stay with me.”

“Of course.” Aragon sat down on the bed and Joan, very shyly, puts her head in her lap. She smiled and teased the baby hairs on the back of her neck with fluttering fingers. “Somebody’s cuddly.” She purred.

Joan makes a muffled, “mmm” and buried her face against the softness of Aragon’s pajama pants. She keeps herself smothered there for a moment before raising her chin slightly.

“Everyone is gonna make fun of me...” She mumbled.

“What?” Aragon looked down at her.

“The cast,” Joan explained. “And the fans. They’re gonna make fun of me. Part of my head is bald...”

“Why do you care so much about what other people think?” Aragon asked.

“Because it hurts to know people think such horrible things about you,” Joan replied. “I’m not as confident as you are, Aragon...”

“Please, call me Catalina.” Aragon said. “And I won’t let them say a word to me. If they do, let me know. I’ll rivet them a new asshole.”

Joan giggled softly. At the same time, she felt heat rise to her cheeks.

“C-Catalina?” She said softly. She was also testing out the name and sounded nice on her tongue.

“Yes, mija?”

“Wh-what you said to that nurse earlier...about being my mother...”

“Ah,” Aragon nodded. “Right. I hope you didn’t mind, but I still mean what I said. I want to look after you, Joan. It must have been so long since you’ve had a mother, huh?”

A whimper bubbles to Joan’s throat and she nodded. It had been a long time, and it’s not like her own mother was ever really there for her.

A second whimper comes up, but it morphs into a tiny sob. She clutched tightly at Aragon’s pants, now openly crying.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” She blubbered over and over again through a haze of tears.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay. Shh...” Aragon stroked her hair, making sure to avoid the wounded part. Her other hand holds the weeping girl securely. “I’m right here, snowflake.”

Pumpkin and now snowflake? Aragon smiled to herself. She was on a roll with these adorable pet names! (Plus: Joan has whitish hair, so snowflake makes perfect sense! It was either that or snowball.)

“Mama...” Joan whimpered out without even really thinking it through. If she wasn’t in the middle of a dazed breakdown, then she might have been mortified with embarrassment.

Aragon, on the other hand, just smiled even wider. In fact, the grin seemed a little giddy.

“I’m right here,” She murmured to the girl. “I’m right here, pumpkin. You’re gonna be just fine... You must be so tired, aren’t you?”

Joan nodded feebly, tiny whimpers still bubbling up to her lips.

“Close your eyes. Try to rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

Aragon leaned down to press a soft kiss to Joan’s forehead.

“I promise.”

But she lied.

When morning came, Joan awoke to a daze of dizziness and pain and an empty bed. She looked around frantically, hurting her head further, and her blood ran icy cold.

Of course. Did she really expect Aragon to stay? She was probably recording the whole time and is now telling and showing the entire cast and-

There was a noise in the kitchen- a clatter of pots and the sizzling of eggs. Sock-padded feet approach the room.

The golden-swathed angel appeared in the doorway.

“Good morning, snowflake,” Aragon cooed, smiling warmly at the girl. She crosses over and gave her a gentle hug. The soft kiss pressed to her temple nearly sent Joan to whatever plane of existence this wonderful, amazing woman came from. “I hope you’re hungry.”

[wykart]

The Prodigal Daughter

Summary: The Doctor has some unfinished business on Gallifrey. She has a purpose, and the Time Lords intend for her to fulfil it. (read on ao3)

a.k.a. local girl has a crush on the 13th Doctor, a love of cosmic/psychological horror, and a fascination with the whole Doctor = The Other thing from the wilderness years novels.

Prologue

It begins as a low hum, something like background noise, something that might have always been there – so stop worrying about it. But it tugs at her with every pulse, every drawn, minute oscillation drawing its grip tighter. A calling. Come home. Soon it’s an insect against her ear. Shrill, sharp buzzing. Phantom breaths upon her neck, phantom eyes burning holes into her back. Hands reaching across the universe. 

…

 It started when she picked up the phone, housed in the compartment outside the TARDIS. It’s always a gamble, answering that phone. She doesn’t give her number out to just anybody. It could be a threat, a cry for help, an old acquaintance. This time, it was all three.

 She dropped the phone before the receiver reached her ear, swiping her hand back as if it were burned. It swung, black cord dangling, the thrum of noise from the speaker vibrating against blue wood. A pendulum, hypnotising. A captured, closely held moment of shuddering breaths, slowing hearts. She jammed the phone down and cut the call short. Too late. The words were already tattooed behind her eyes; circular spirals folding in upon her vision. She fet time press in against her like a vice.

…

 The buzz of the mobile resting on her desk seems to shake the entire room. So much for silent. Yasmin leverages herself up onto her elbows and blinks away the bleary dark, reaching a languid arm over to the phone still juddering on the plastic-painted-wood surface. Who could be calling her at this time of night, which – the digital red of her alarm clock tells her – is 1am. She’s not on call duty tonight, which has awoken her on some occasions. Usually someone sleeping rough somewhere they shouldn’t, a group of drunken teenagers, a party running too late and too loud into the night. She doesn’t exactly have any friends apart from Ryan, Graham, and the Doctor. Ryan’s got better friends to call, Graham sleeps more than any person she’s ever met, and the Doctor, well – the Doctor doesn’t call. No, the Doctor materialises in the middle of Yaz’ bedroom and starts raving about an alien marketplace that has the most extensive range of biscuits in the universe. And then makes Yaz late for work.

 Yaz taps the phone screen awake and squints at the familiar too-bright blueish light. She goes to examine the number, only, there is no number. She figures it’s some new UI update – did it even show the number before? No one can be sure of such things at this time of day, one foot still dipped into unconsciousness. She taps the green call icon and unleashes a wall of faint garbled static. Apprehensively, she presses the speaker up to her ear, rolling herself up onto her hips, back cold and bent against the headboard. The static continues, with spikes in the signal like bones pressing up under the skin. They sound like that, too – like bright bruises and the sharp flash of colour in your eye that accompanies pain. It sets her mind racing towards something that she’ll never reach. Her thoughts run on a hamster wheel, speeding up, unravelling. She can’t stop listening. The pulses become voices, warping themselves, ungainly, into some semblance of human form.

 “Hello?” she chokes. It sounds like the start of a horror movie (Hello? Hello, is there anyone there?)

 “Lord President –“ it wavers – an amalgam of voices converging to one, like it’s trying to get the sound right. “Lord President, your presence is required on homeworld.” A flash of static stabs at Yaz’s eardrum.

 “Who is this?” she says, a little louder, clearer.

 “Comply,” it echoes, warped. “Or we will be forced to –“ it stutters out into drilling noise, droning into silence.

 “Hello?” she mumbles. Finally, feebly. (Hello? Hello, is there anyone there?). The screen goes dark against the side of her face, and the sudden lack of light makes her start. Her phone is drained, completely.

 Her first thought is aliens – which, as a self-proclaimed practical sort of person, is an idea that would have made the Yaz of a few months ago balk. She would call the Doctor, except she’d never given them her number. There was never danger here in Sheffield – discounting the killer  tooth fairy and the giant spiders, which may seem like quite a lot to discount to anyone else – the danger was always out there, out in the wide universe where they sought it out. The Doctor dropped by on the weekend (barring a few exceptions), took them out for an adventure or two, and dropped them back into the middle of mundanity. Two lives. They weren’t supposed to intersect.

 Yaz half expects to hear the grating wheeze of the TARDIS materialising in the room, for the Doctor to jump out and grab her by the shoulders, exclaiming with an almost inappropriate amount of glee that there are aliens attacking the telephone network or something. That would be a more exciting outcome. Instead – as her conscious mind begins to shed the sheer terror of those noises, the not-voices, burying what it cannot comprehend – she is beginning to settle with the idea that it was just a prank call.

 Regardless, she sleeps fitfully.

 …

 Ryan hears it in the pub. The night is still young, but he can already feel a premonition of the headache he’ll be swimming in during his shift at the warehouse tomorrow. With any luck, he’ll be able to catch a few winks afterwards before the Doctor drops by. It would be very unwise to climb aboard the TARDIS with an aching head and a lack of sleep.

 His mate Ian is buying the next round. The rest of the crowd are shoved into a booth in the back corner surrounded by tall glasses in various stages of emptiness (or fullness, as his Nan would’ve said, because a little optimism never hurt anyone - he thinks the Doctor would say that too). There’s a small flat-screen TV mounted on the wood-slatted cornice, a rerun of an old footy match. The commentator’s voice and the crowings of the crowd waver dully in the background, an echo of the past. He finds his heartbeat quickening when the players draw closer to either goal, letting out stifled noises of indignation at a nasty tackle, an obvious foul. The game has already happened, of course. He could look up the teams on his phone right now and find out the final score, every detail of the game, in fact. The notion never mattered to him before, but having access to a time machine tends to have an impact on perspective. He could be there in the crowd right now. Then, he would always have been in that crowd, despite the fact that whenever it was actually played he was here in Sheffield doing something entirely different.

He has a habit of doing this, thinking in circles. It isn’t doing him any favours for his NVQ. Travelling with the Doctor feels a bit like living in circles.

 He takes a gulp of beer, feeling the foam slide up his lip. He swallows it quick, and the fizzing stops him wanting to think about temporal anomalies at all. That’s when the TV shuts off. A few half-hearted cries of indignation. It was just a rerun, after all.

 An explosion of pixels bursts across the screen, scattering crackling static – and not the usual kind. It seems to push itself from the screen, to undulate in waves with just a hinted sheen of colour. The once-muted stereo sound is suddenly very loud, and, about ten blocks away, Yasmin Khan answers a call.

 “Lord President–“ the static spews the words in a garbled mess that only seems to knit itself back together after the fact, as if reality is trying to make sense of itself, to reorder things. He definitely isn’t drunk enough for this. He doesn’t think that anyone’s ever been drunk enough for this. “Lord President, your presence is required –“ He looks around at his mates, tearing his eyes away from the cacophonic display with a morbid sort of difficulty. They’re still talking, laughing, drinking.

 “You okay Ryan?”

 “take desperate action.” the static spikes, and the clangour of it sounds like his feet on the rungs of a ladder, and the ringing sound through hollow metal as you slip…

 “Hey, mate, you feelin’ alright?” He can’t tell which face it’s coming from. He can’t even tell them apart. Dollops of clay, murmurs of a strange language lost in the noise.

  “Your weakness is known. It will be exploited.“ He feels his eyes cross and his joints wobble. If he was standing, he would have crumpled to the floor. Instead, he feels a sharp pang as his head hits the table, and cold creep across his neck where his drink has sloshed over.

 He jerks up with a start. Someone is holding his shoulder steady. He looks up, and the TV is blank.

 “Are you gonna pass out of something? You’ve only had a few drinks.” It says. He can’t quite recall the names.

 “Nah, m’alright.” Ryan grumbles, holding a hand against his temple. “Just had a long day or something.”

 “We were gonna go down the park, it’ll do you some good mate. Fresh air, you know.” Another one speaking now. 

 “Yeah.” Anything to get him out of this pub, away from… something alien, probably. Only no one else had seen it, and that was never a good sign, especially when he had a few drinks in him already. Maybe he had just had a long day. Excuses are easy to spin, and the colours are already slipping from his mind. Washed away. Only a stain left behind.

 Next up, drunken loitering. Yaz would be furious.

 …

 Graham doesn’t hear anything at all. He’s a heavy sleeper, and he likes to savour every second of it thank you very much.

 “If I’m gonna be larkin’ about on some alien world,” he’d defended, when Ryan had chuckled at his perfectly respectable bed time of 8pm, “I’m gonna need ten hours at least. It’s all very well for you to run off four hours and a couple cans of those energy drinks – which, by the way, your Nan’d have a fit if she seen you drinkin’ – but I need my shut-eye.” And it’s better than sittin’ like we used to, he’d thought. In front of the telly or reading in those big armchairs that seemed to envelop your whole body. Because he’d look up with a grin on his face and a lark on his lips, and she wouldn’t be there. At least in the dark he could almost pretend. Sometimes he could almost feel her breath on his back.

 When Graham O’Brien gets a call at thirteen o’clock, he doesn’t answer. It rings out in the kitchen while he sleeps on. But he dreams of a woman wrapped in knitted shawls and a warm, wide smile. And she’s telling him that the president is coming home.

[zexxcandell]

The Bad End

(This is a response to an anon prompt. I apologize it’s in this form of a new post but I am currently only mobile so gotta do what you gotta do. So I wil supply a link to the anon ask as well and I apologize for the delay if this reply. Hopefully you enjoy!)

For everything that had transpired in the last few hours, Zexx was glad for the cool metal beneath his head. His eye closed tightly as he tried his best to block out the sounds of the battle beyond where he had chosen to die. Yes, this was a good place to do it. It would so easy to just stay here and not accept what he had seen, the end result of their little quest. Little quest. He wanted to laugh at his own joke but it felt like it would just tumble out of him as a ragged sob. What’s so little about saving your world?

His mind began to go through a checklist of apologies for promises he couldn’t keep. Beil and Cal, two of his oldest companions now probably lost to the mindless macabre at the base of the temple. Kybb, who had become nearly a brother to him in their time together, lost to a sorcerers rage and his own blunder. Horgast and Sunni, did they still live? Had they landed the zeppelin alright? Had the rest of the Stonefist gotten away? Light he hoped so. Friends faces passed before his dream vision in a montage of heartbreak at those he could not follow or find. Sadly it only continued on to those that mattered most to him.

Xaya, the eldest and precious to him, the one he’d made the promise too. He could still feel her wet tears on his neck as he swore that they’d come back. He whispered through his broken jaw, moaning out a lament to the open air of his failure to his daughter.

Gendry, his young son barely old enough to contemplate what was going on. Zexx had kissed that sandy blonde hair, a gift from his own mother lost before she’d know any of the grandchildren he had sired. He’d look up with the bright blue eyes of young child, a smile on his face as he kissed him on the cheek and garbled out a ‘huff you’.

And Rey. His heart dying even further as the sob did finally wretch it’s way from under his breastplate and out his burned and scarred throat. Rey, scarcely born months before and now in the protective arms of a Bronze Guardian. Lan had sworn to protect them, swore that no evil would befall his charges. Swore that they would remember their mother and father.

Bea. Beatrix Gallina. The sobs had not stopped choking him as the thought and vision of his wife had caused him to run from the dreamscape and back to the horrific landscape of his new world. He couldn’t face her. Not yet. Maybe not ever. As his bloodshot and battered eye opened, he found it drawn to a still smoking shield near the spot it had all finally ended. Zexx stared hopeful for a miracle for a long time, but nothing came. Nothing happened. Only he could change his realty now.

Gritting his teeth and groaning he would flop onto his stomach, a cry of agony breaking the sorrow that had been leaking out like his blood resounded on the silent top of the elementium ziggurat. First with his left gauntleted hand he reached forth and drug himself forward, his following scream a mixture of pain and effort. His right followed, but found he could not grab anything it was heavy and awkward, a flash of green stone revealing the culprit.

Gripped tightly was Erlain Candell’s blade, his family’s sword and only inheritance, still in one piece. The steel was pitted and dented in spots, but the shape and strength of the ancient blade was still intact. The gauntlet that had held it, not so much. A thick blackened mess of dwarves steel and leather had been melted about his hand and turned into prison of war, the blade locked forever with it’s wielder in his final moments. Fitting.

Choking out a curse at his right hand, Zexx flung it back and let it drag like the rest of his armored and battered body. His left would have to do the work, gripping his fingers into the metal and pulling himself forward, armor scraping against the ground with a shrill wine of metal to metal. He didn’t care though. Nothing else mattered anymore but getting to that final moment of his beloved. One pull. Two pulls. Three pulls. How many more until he finally faced the truth? How many more before he could finally rest? Would he rest?

Fingers brushed something and pain blossomed anew through Zexx’s fingers as he shot them back and looked up fully to find the shield, still hot and steaming from otherworldly heat. He couldn’t even touch it. Laying there for a few moments, he stared at the shield silently. A numbing sensation was beginning to seep into his muscles and bone as he recognized ever bit of his wife arms. The shield had been a gift from Sunni, a true silver shield decorated with the rose and grapes of her family. Of their family.

His one eye drifted from the steel and began to trace back to those final moments at the altar of C’thun that Oplisca and her brother had forged atop this ziggurat. This damned spear point of doom they had wrought with the rest of the Twilight cultists. His attention drifted from the heartbreak to the mission that had been at hand.

Had the others been stopped? So many men and women had rallied to the call for intervention, and he was sure so many were probably in the same situation as him. Were they successful? Zexx’s eye followed the path from the shield to the empty space of the altar, two blackened burn spots were all that remained of the two women. Yes, he had to believe Bea’s sacrifice had been not in vain. He wanted to believe there would be stars still in that sky.

Left once again planted itself on the metal and for some reason right decided to work as well as the metal tip of his sword planted itself in the dark floor beneath him and pull Zexx up to his knees. Gritted teeth, warm blood, and a slowing heartbeat to mix with the numbness of his wounds. This was it. This was his end.

Coughing he leaned back onto his broken leg and steadied himself with his blade before trying to look up at the sky. But he couldn’t. There was only the blackened spots. And empty void of the man he was. Zexx Candell is dead.

“Live long Zexx Candell.”

(Mentions: @erlaincandell @opliscadumere @gatesofthetroupe )

[instituteblog547]

Beta Office 2016 For Mac

Become an Insider: be one of the first to explore new Microsoft 365 features for you and your business. Microsoft introduced Office 2016 for Mac four months ago as a preview, but today removed the under-construction signage from the suite of five applications: Excel, OneNote, Outlook, PowerPoint.

Office for Mac has often played second fiddle to the flagship Windows version that powers Microsoft's productivity software empire, but it's important for plenty of computer users nonetheless.

It's thus good to see Microsoft nearly finished with a long-awaited update that brings the OS X and Windows versions of Office closer together in style, while adding integrations with Microsoft's OneDrive cloud storage. A preview version of Office for Mac 2016 was released today, and there's enough to give Mac users reason to look forward to the final bits and reminders of bugginess that can afflict Microsoft software for the Mac.

The preview for OS X Yosemite is free to download and use until its official release in the second half of 2015. It includes Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Outlook, and OneNote. We've already covered the Outlook and OneNote redesigns, so we'll just focus on Word, Excel, and PowerPoint in this brief hands-on.

Microsoft fully supports Office 2016, Office 2019 and Microsoft 365 for Mac on 10.14 Mojave when you have the following Office updates installed: Microsoft 365/2019 - Build 16.17.0 or later. Office 2016 - Build 16.16.2 or later. Skype for Business 16.21.65 or later. For the best experience with 10.14 Mojave, be sure to keep your Office apps up-to-date. Download: Microsoft Office 2016 For Mac Released Following a successful beta trial period that began in March, the final version of Microsoft Office 2016 for Mac. In this beta incarnation, Word 2016 alone is bigger than the entire Office for Mac 2011 suite. You’ll need 5.6GB of disk space and up to 10 minutes for installation, depending on the speed of your.

Microsoft has been doing a great job making Office cross-platform, with mobile versions for iPhones, iPads, and Android devices. The ability to use Office across Windows, Mac, and mobile devices, all tied together with cloud storage, is what convinced me to recently begin making much heavier use of OneNote and Word for researching and writing articles. That usually means I make heavy use of Windows in a Parallels virtual machine so I can type in the 'real' version of Office, but the Office for Mac 2016 preview gives me hope that I'll be able to reduce my use of that Windows virtual machine.

My Office needs are relatively simple—I don't do much more than type words in an occasionally coherent fashion. But Word for Mac 2011 always drove me away with the bizarre way it handles hyperlinks. When you click a link in a Word for Mac 2011 file, the software offers a message that says, 'Word is preparing to load this document' and then makes you wait far too long before opening the link in your default browser. It's a hyperlink, Office, you don't have to load a document! Maybe it's a minor quibble but it's the kind of thing that made Office for Mac seem very un-modern to me. Anyway, the new Word for Mac preview fixes that problem. Now it just opens links like any normal application does.

The preview is not without bugs. I've barely started using the new Excel and already it has forced me to close the application three times because it wouldn't let me use the mouse to click on different cells. I could still navigate cells with the arrow keys, but I had to restart the software to regain mouse control. It's a good thing you can install the preview without uninstalling Office 2011; the beta and the stable version can both run on your Mac.

It's just a beta so bugs are forgivable, and there's evidence Microsoft is working hard to get this right. We had a Microsoft engineer show up in the comments section of our story earlier today to take bug reports from Ars readers; Microsoft's 'Apple' team is clearly devoted to its craft. So far, I think that's paid off more on the iOS side, where Microsoft Office is among the best productivity tools available. It's time that Office for Mac becomes a full-fledged member of the Office family.

2020-09-11 17:54:39 • Filed to: macOS 10.15 • Proven solutions

Microsoft's Office products are so ubiquitous that they've even invaded Apple's macOS environment. However, after you buy Microsoft Office for macOS 10.15 and start using it, you may run across various issues. Most of these are easily addressable, and this article shows you how to fix issues with the Office suite for macOS 10.15 - officially known as Catalina - that Apple will drop to all Apple desktop and laptop users on 23 September 2019.

Top 4 Common Office Problems on macOS Catalina and Fixes

The Best PDF Editor for macOS 10.15

How to Troubleshoot macOS 10.15 Office Issues

Once you download Microsoft Office for macOS 10.15, currently in public beta, you might notice a few issues that other macOS users have reported. The issues might continue even with the public release version of Catalina, so it will help if you know the most common issues seen in Office for macOS 10.15 and how to fix them. Since Microsoft products don't usually play nice with iOS or macOS devices, there are quite a few of them. The top ones are listed here, along with fixes.

1. Application Slow or Crashes Regularly

Beta Office 2016 For Macs

One of the most frustrating things with any desktop application is that it runs slow, posing a significant hurdle to anyone looking to get their job done quickly. Even worse is a piece of software crashing on you; in such cases, losing unsaved work is a major problem. Here are some ways to fix these issues:

Beta Office 2016 For Macbook Pro

Fix #1: Update your Microsoft Office macOS 10.15 Product Key - If your product is not officially licensed, you may find that it runs slower than it should even though your RAM isn't under any strain from other resource-intensive processes. The obvious fix here is to get a product key to activate your copy of Office. There are several websites that offer generic, master, or OEM product keys that don't have a one-machine-one-license restriction. You can get one of those to activate your product, and see if the issue persists. If it does, move to the next fix.

Fix #2: Upgrade your Microsoft Office Software - If you're running MS Word 2016 for Mac, you might have this same issue cropping up again and again. The icon in the dock will keep bouncing up and down but clicking on it doesn't seem to launch the application properly. Most often you'll need to do a Force Quit by right-clicking on the Word icon and then relaunching it. Instead of doing that all the time, consider upgrading to a higher version of MS Office 2016. The issue is common in version 16.11, but even applying a minor update to version 16.11.1 should do the trick. Oddly enough, this issue is generally seen exclusively with Word 2016 rather than Excel or PowerPoint.

2. Documents Saved in the Wrong Format

Some users have reported that documents that are saved in PDF format sometimes show up as .DOCX files. This typically happens when you're saving documents to a cloud service, specifically, OneDrive, Microsoft's own cloud storage service. There's no permanent fix, unfortunately, but there's a workaround that will fix the problem for a particular file.

Fix #1: Fix #1: Rename, Save Locally, Then Save to Cloud - The way to circumvent this problem is to go into OneDrive, change the .docx file extension to .pdf, then switch the location to be saved as local. After that, you need to change it again to OneDrive, which usually fixes the issue.

3. Excel Issues: Format or Extension Not Valid

One of the more frustrating issues with Microsoft Excel for Mac is the problem with permissions. Protected files usually request that you grant permission before they can be opened. This is usually in the form of what is called the Open or User password. The issue with macOS 10.15 Office (Excel only) is that it will ask you for permission even if you didn't set a password, and then the system either freezes or alerts you that the .xlsx file extension is not valid or is the wrong format. Basically, Excel tells you that its own files are of the wrong type!

Fix #1: Delete a Library File - Microsoft doesn't have a fix for this yet, but they suggest a workaround. The first thing is to Force Quit Excel and then delete a specific file from your library. The file path is ~/Library/Containers/com.microsoft.Excel/Data/Library/Preferences, which you can access using the Go To function in the Finder menu. Once there, delete the file called com.microsoft.Excel.securebookmarks.plist by right-clicking and moving to Trash. Relaunch Excel, and the problem should have gone away temporarily. You may need to do it each time you face the issue until Microsoft releases a permanent fix.

4. Font Problems in Office 2016 Version 16.9 for macOS 10.15

There's a weird issue that occurs in this specific version of Office 2016 for Mac. What happens is that your fonts get all messed up. At times one font will appear as another, or looks like garbled text, or certain fonts might even be missing from the drop-down list. The problem is that you may have multiple copies of the same font loaded in your Mac, which causes errors with the Font Picker in Office. Here's the fix.

Fix #1: Set Active Copy for Fonts - First, open the Font Book app on your Mac. This can be found in the Applications folder in Finder. You can also search for and select it using Spotlight. Once it's open, choose the All Fonts option in the left sidebar menu and click the information icon, which is a lower case letter 'i'. If you know which font is causing the issue, click and expand it in the center panel. Make sure that only the latest versions are set to On. However, first, turn every version to On, and then where you see the warning message on the right-side panel, click on Resolve Manually and pick the most recent version. This is what is known as the Active Copy. Close Font Book, go back to the Office application where you first faced the issue, and see if it's resolved.

The Best PDF Editor for Mac to Complement Office for macOS 10.15 Catalina

The Office suite is incomplete if you don't have a robust PDF editor. Since Word, Excel, and PowerPoint are generally saved as PDF for easy portability and sharing, you'll need something like PDFelement to round out the experience. This is a powerful piece of software that costs a fraction of what you would pay for the same features in Adobe Acrobat Pro DC. It contains all the features typically used in an office environment, such as signing PDF contracts and agreements, filling or creating forms, redacting confidential information when sharing internal documents with outsiders, securing and encrypting PDF documents, and much more.

Beta Office 2016 For Mac Os

As a matter of fact, the matches Adobe Acrobat's product feature for feature, providing users with editing, annotation, page management, merging, and other essential tools to increase your productivity and speed up the workflow in your office. Although Word does have some basic PDF functionality, it can only convert from Word to PDF. On the other hand, PDFelement is a dedicated PDF management software that offers bulk conversions from and to multiple other formats, OCR (optical character recognition), data extraction from scanned forms and documents, and other essential capabilities. If you have macOS systems in your workplace and have opted for Microsoft Office for Mac, then PDFelement is an equally essential productivity tool.

Free Download or Buy PDFelement right now!

Free Download or Buy PDFelement right now!

Buy PDFelement right now!

Buy PDFelement right now!

0 Comment(s)

[woodland-knight]

Is anybody else having the glitch where if they use a readmore, their text becomes all garbled and distorted on windows Tumblr??? It looks fine on mobile and on my blog, but I have a fic that I’m wanting to post and the preview for it is just a garbled mess of text :B

[constellations-soc]

From the main Constellations blog:

This post is an introduction and placeholder for a planned series of posts on useful apps, services, and software. Once there are a few posts in the series I will eventually promote this post to a page with an index of all the posts from the series.

I decided to make a series for this because although using computers has become a key part of academic work, too many academics remain uncomfortable using them. Often I come across people using Word for anything that involves text. Not due to it being the best tool for the job but that they are unaware of the alternatives. Even when someone knows it is not an ideal solution, it is not always easy to find a good entry point to start learning how to use new software. At a training event I attended last year I was sat next to a professor. From the introductions he obviously had years of experience using an advance software package for tasks similar to the software the training was on. Yet, it became clear from the start that he was uneasy and disorientated when facing a new application with an unfamiliar interface. After accidentally launching another application and then opening the wrong file, that resulted in a garbled mess of symbols appearing on the screen, he got up and left only ten minutes into the session. While it is rare for someone to feel so at a loss that they leave, I have heard multiple times from PhD students that despite feeling like walking out they have persisted through a training session and still come away not feeling any more confident in knowing how to use the software. Such experiences end up reinforcing self perceptions of not being ‘a computer person’.

I do not think this is a fault of the trainers. Instead, I think there are two reasons why training workshops are not the best solution. The first is that they are often focused on complex specialist applications when there is a need to improve the general diversity of software academics are using and help with basic computing skills. The second reason is that training workshops are not always the best way to introduce new software. Too much ends up being covered at once and, unless paying for personalised training, the dates available for training do not align with when people actually start using the software within their project. By the time people then reach the stage in their research and launch the software for the first time in months, they have forgotten most of what was taught. It is common for PhD students to attend a training workshop at the start of their PhD in anticipation of analysis. Then a year later once they have their data needing to delay analysis in order to attend another workshop as a refresher. A significant chunk of their funds as a result is eaten up by training costs.

This series of posts is primarily concerned with the first issue and will focus on introducing a broad range of software that can be used in various contexts. The aim being to help people break out of their comfort zone to try new apps and services. I have to admit that part of me dies whenever someone goes to show me their notes to see them shift through a mess of assorted doc files and PDFs strewn about their desktop. I also realise I am on the other end of the spectrum, often perceived as using software for anything and everything. Since I have handwriting that even I struggle to read, I always look for options that allow me to ditch any reliance on pen and paper. The series of posts then is in no way meant as a proscriptive ‘you should use all of these’ but a pick and mix of what looks of potential interest. Please feel free to use the comments to highlight anything that is unclear or for any questions not addressed in the posts themselves.

Some posts will focus on a single item whereas others will be on a theme with a few apps covered together such as ‘Ahhh, my eyes’ and ‘Reducing e-mail overload’. Posts will not be in a specific order, though they will be categorised and tagged. Additionally, there will be a range in the complexity of what is introduced from single use apps, command line applications, apps like Anki and Tasker that contain programming elements, to introducing programming itself in the form of AutoHotKey, Python, and R. The latter will be tied into another planned series of posts I am working on, covering scripts I have written and, where feasible, a line by line breakdown of what the code does. The aim being to offer numerous entry points for starting to learn and become comfortable with more advance computing tasks.

Predominantly, desktop software will be Window based and mobile apps Android. In an ideal world I would be using Linux, but its rare for Universities to offer staff desktops running Linux as well as there still being academic software that cannot easily be installed on Linux. However, I will where possible highlight MacOS and Linux alternatives to software that is Windows only. Furthermore, a decent number of posts will be focused on making Windows less painful to use. For example, the one saving grace of Windows 10 is the new Linux Subsystem for Windows that enables access to a whole host of useful command line tools. For those running older versions of Windows there is Cygwin, that achieves a similar result but through a different means. Both will be covered in a future post.

[goosevpn-blog]

GOOSE VPN

The Very Pleasing Network - VPN Services

Choosing a right VPN provider could be uneasy for an inexperienced consumer. On this article we describe the principle causes for utilizing a VPN connection trying to decide on a VPN provider that suits your needs.

VPN or Digital Private Networks are broadly used by massive companies and small businesses for higher security and offering access to community resources (shared information, databases, units). As VPN useful reference establishes encrypted connection, all visitors between a consumer and a VPN server is protected and can't be tracked or intercepted. This makes VPN enticing for people searching for privacy safety.

As person connected to VPN seems for the complete world as if he was searching from the VPN server on his own with the tip IP address modified, this technology will be actually useful for unblocking web sites or using geographically locked content, such as regional on-line TELEVISION.

There are various VPN providers everywhere in the globe offering VPN accounts. Nonetheless, choosing the proper one will be a difficulty vpn service free for an unprepared consumer. There is basically only one query it's best to ask to decide on the VPN supplier that fits you.

What's the main reason for utilizing a VPN?

Let us first discuss safety. Usually 128-bit encryption is a standard security degree. It means that all traffic between you and your VPN server is encoded with a 128-bit key, and even when a hacker captures, will probably be hardly unimaginable windows 10 home vpn client to decode it with out the correct key. If your answer is security, and you're on the lookout for encrypting your visitors the best possible method, search for these providing 256-bit AES encryption, it offers even higher safety stage.

If you could change your IP handle into the one among a specific area, make sure that your VPN provider affords such service. There are companies dedicated read more on wikipedia here to providing, let's say UK or German IP handle, which can will let you work with specific regional providers closed to different parts of the world.

You should also think about connection methods. The commonest one is PPTP, it's supported by Windows and is easy to arrange. Nevertheless, it could be unavailable as a result of some causes, or could be prohibited to use in your company community. Must you require VPN for sites unblocking, for better flexibility think about using Open VPN protocol. It will likely be vital to install a 3rd get together software program which allows to connect even from those network devoted for pure net-surfing.

Virtual Private Network, usually called VPN, is a breakthrough in tunneling expertise. By way of this non-public network, packets of goosevpn knowledge pass through a digital tunnel the place it turns into encrypted, due to this fact inconceivable to decrypt when obtained.

Due to pc technology, a lot of the things folks do are related somehow to the computer. Some folks cannot go through the day with out accessing vpn client app their computer systems, primarily to make use of the web. Different even hook up with the online by using their mobile phones.

Web uses are so different now from what they have been earlier than. Initially, the public make use of a public network referred to as the web primarily for analysis, or to e mail somebody. Now there's already on-line banking, online shopping, reserving flights online, connecting with buddies by way of social networking sites, calling individuals by way of VoIP applications, and much more different things.

Due to this habitual use of the computer and the web that we developed, it turned essential to safeguard our pc system. As a result of we ship non-public information on-line, corresponding to bank card data, and addresses, it has turn out to be a necessity to make use of a safe connection over a public network (the web), which VPN can do.

The large query is how to start, proper? Before you get started on purchasing the primary VPN plan you see, you have to be aware of the components you must think about when selecting a VPN provider. First, you have to verify the reliability of the connection - are there many downtimes? Do previous and present users say they rarely or at all times get disconnected? These are the things you need to search for when it comes to checking reliability.

After all the worth is an important factor. You may only choose one that you could afford, and believe me, with all of the VPN suppliers around, there are masses to choose from. Nonetheless, it is advisable to be sure that the value is definitely worth the service they can provide you.

We can't keep away from downtimes for VPN connections, just as we cannot keep away from the identical factor to happen to our web connection. What it's best to look for in a provider is the supply of their technical help, or if they've one. It's secure to know that there's somebody to reply your name everytime you need assistance.

Who can provide all the information, you may ask? Definitely not the VPN corporations themselves. Certain, they would supply you data on the providers they provide, boast of the edge they have with the competitors, however they do this for marketing purposes. To prove whether their claims are true or not, you need to verify for person evaluations of different VPN service providers. By these critiques, you will get to know the 'true' service providers can provide the disadvantages and advantages of using the service and other useful data that can make it easier to choose the VPN supplier for you.

Enterprise at this time is nearly a 24/7 demand on the average, and if the work demands fixed communications, and often working with information and knowledge which are both delicate, or confidential in nature, then the necessity for the most effective VPN provider available to transmit data becomes apparent. Folks not solely depend on firms to deal with their end of the deal, but to keep the data they alternate secure, too. However all too usually, the information needs to be accessed from unsecured locations, like public Wi-Fi networks, and the one real insurance for security in circumstances like that is the best VPN attainable.

Every single day there are news stories about hackers stealing huge quantities of data. And certainly one of their favorite areas to target for his or her nefarious activities is public Wi-Fi hotspots and internet cafe's. Although many users in these places make attempts to safe their connection in opposition to man-in-the-middle attacks, AP Phishing, and plenty of different types of attack, there are a lot of who do not defend themselves. Typically log-on credentials are stolen and the proprietor receives a n outrageous bill for their month-to-month expenses. Different times employee and get in touch with knowledge can be dug out of a machine utilizing malicious code and faked hotspots.

Secured proxies will help in situations like these, but these are easily hacked too. And if you are in a situation the place you need to access the web using public entry, only the most effective VPN attainable must be used to protect your personal information. In accordance with penetration testers, (web safety consultants,) only one of the best VPN's can stop a great hacker from getting the data out of your connection. And, the firewalls and goosevpn.com/ security measures which are often employed by managers of these public access networks is meager at best...in the event that they even exist at all. The privacy and security which might be insured on your own home and business networks won't be accessible if you find yourself using a public Wi-Fi hotspot, and the public community managers attempt to make it as straightforward as attainable for his or her customers, so the security is weak.

In case you work with company personnel information, financial information, or even logistical information, you should take into account implementing the most effective VPN you'll find if you end up away from home, or the office. If a hacker manages to get into a VPN tunnel, (and not many can,) all they might see is a garbled mess because of the encryption a VPN employs together with the tunneling technologies. Utilizing the most effective VPN applied sciences an ISP cannot even monitor your connection, so your confidential knowledge won't be compromised.

So, you've got taken the step of insuring your privacy with the most effective VPN supplier and client that your money may purchase...however while doing all your analysis, you realized that there is a way that governments, corporate entities, and even some uncommon rogue hackers will be able to use to get inside your secured tunnel. And, it is true, where there's a will there is a approach, and the tenacity of the unscrupulous sorts never appears to end. However you can also make your tunnel safer using a number of measures which might be straightforward to implement...

Disconnection - We All Get Them

One probably disastrous occurrence is disconnection. It will possibly happen at any time, and there a multitude of reasons behind them, however typically the consumer software program would not warn you, or it's possible you'll be away from you desk when it happens. We can fix this with easy software options. Two great solutions are VPNetMon, and VPNCheck. Each of those applications will detect VPN disconnection and will routinely cease any programs you specify. Do not let anyone say that disconnects do not occur, even one of the best VPN supplier will occasionally have them.

DNS Leaks - Do not GOOSE VPN client for macintosh Rent A Plumber

A DNS leak occurs when an utility, or Home windows is expecting a resolution to a query and get impatient. The appliance will then route around the VPN's DNS tables to get the decision by way of regular channels...That is bad, but you possibly can clear up this utilizing a couple of tools. DNSLeakTest.com has the instrument for detecting potential leaks, and VPNCheck has it constructed into their paid shopper. To plug the holes there's an automated program, dnsfixsetup, for these using OpenVPN, however everyone else should manually seal them, usually the best VPN providers may have directions on their web sites for this.

Rule #2 - Double Faucet

Like in the zombie film, double taps aren't a waste of ammunition...if you wish to be completely sure. Encrypting an already encrypted connection will make your communications bulletproof. And it is simple to do. In Windows you simply create a second VPN connection, hook up with the first connection, then hook up with the first connection with out disconnecting from the primary one. This can be accomplished over the TOR network, but this network is not very appropriate for file sharing actions.

Fix Flaws, Extra resources Forex

PPTP/IPv6 has a slightly massive hole in the safety, but it is easily repaired.

In Windows, open a command prompt and sort in:

? netsh interface teredo set state disabled

Ubuntu users have to open a terminal window, log in as the tremendous person, then type each line in one at a time, hitting enter after each line:

? echo "#disable ipv6? sudo tee -a /and many others/sysctl.conf

? echo "web.ipv6.conf.all.disable_ipv6 = 1? open vpn client sudo tee -a /and many others/sysctl.conf

? echo "web.ipv6.conf.default.disable_ipv6 = 1? sudo tee -a /and so on/sysctl.conf

? echo "internet.ipv6.conf.lo.disable_ipv6 = 1? sudo tee -a /and many others/sysctl.conf

A VPN is a Virtual Private Network, and it has change into a preferred form of technology for many private and enterprise users when needing to hook up with the internet. A VPN is actually a tunnel which plenty of info passes by means of and is encrypted, and if a 3rd occasion had been to get their arms on it, though unlikely, they wouldn't be capable of decipher the information.

We've all seen the rise of technology especially within the final 10 years and how it has entered everyone's lives, some unable to stay their everyday lives now with out having an web connection most of the day even after they're on the street. Cell phones and the iPad have therefore become vital tools for such a person.

Furthermore because of this development the necessity for a safe and safe connection has turn out to be extra vital and a way to ensure you are safe when sending sensitive information throughout your connection is by utilizing about the company a top quality VPN. It have to be stated though, this feature just isn't only for the roaming web goer, it is also a superb possibility for dwelling based connections especially if security is a key necessity.

VPN's additionally supply an awesome option for on-line avid gamers looking for the perfect online expertise with their pals. Many keen gamers can get frustrated with a typical broadband connection, especially if the server is lagging, it might probably have a nasty impact on the gaming expertise. By choosing a VPN, they are able to invite buddies alongside on the personal community and recreation as if they had been sat next to one another.

Research is without doubt one of the first issues you should ideally do if you are trying to buy right into a VPN. The reliability of the service is vital and plenty of VPN suppliers could have various qualities, so choosing the proper one is essential. You wish to minimise the amount of downtime, so looking at varied message boards on-line to gauge peoples opinions of the service is not a nasty thing to do.

The value you pay for the service of course is a vital factor, cash is a scarce thing in the intervening time with the latest or current recession be we nonetheless in it, so it's worthwhile to get the Social Profile here for GOOSE VPN best stability between paying the correct quantity and receiving the service that is most superb for you. Again, a bit of analysis on-line will give you a good suggestion what people are saying.

[voiceonyx-blog1]

The Best Polycom VVX Features For Sarasota Small Businesses

You already know that it's important for a small business to have a phone that's meant for business. Not a smartphone or your regular, run-of-the-mill desk phone. What you may not have known is that a Polycom VVX is one of the best phones you could possibly get. Polycom phones are made with the business professional in mind, and the VVX line is especially impressive. All of them come with countless features that are tailored to your needs. No more wishing -- the perfect phone for your Sarasota small business is here.

What Exactly Is a Polycom VVX?

It's a VoIP desk phone (more on that later) that's designed to bring quality, flexibility, and style to small businesses. The most common types of VVX phones are business media phones and desktop IP phones. We'll spend most of our time talking about the business media line. There are eight different types of VVX phones, ranging from 'basic' to 'executive.' The basic option is closer to your average phone, while the executive version is incredibly advanced. Even the simplest phone offers great quality sound. In this post, we'll just be talking about the VVX line in general, and not any of the specific models. You can find more in-depth looks at each phone here. For a great overview, read on to find out some of the special features of a Polycom VVX.

VoIP Enabled

VoIP -- or Voice over Internet Protocol -- is one of the most successful innovations of the past ten years. Using VoIP is a cheaper way to make phone calls. It doesn't require an additional landline and doesn't eat up the minutes in your cell phone plan. It's a win-win for business. The cost is especially important for small businesses -- Mom and Pop shops can have communication features that were only for huge corporations before. Even if you've never heard of it, VoIP might not be as unfamiliar as you think. If you've ever used Skype, you've used VoIP before. It's really just a fancy way to say Internet calling. In fact, you can integrate Skype for Business into a Polycom VVX phone if you want. Instead of having to set up your computer, you can Skype with the feel of a traditional phone. Or, if you prefer to see the person you're talking to, certain VVX models have video calls enabled, too. The screen size is just large enough to make viewing easy. If you're thinking of the audio delays in Skype, don't worry -- Polycom audio quality is crystal clear. Don't worry if you're new to VoIP phones. Polycom phones are easy to use, so you'll learn in no time at all. The ease of use also leads to another benefit of the Polycom brand.

Increases Productivity

Yes, a new desk phone really can make a difference in how productive you and your employees are. Think about how much time has been wasted on training people to use a front desk phone. Even the best receptionist will face a learning curve on a new system. A Polyphone VVX helps solve that problem. It has a large color display that's easy to read, so you're not squinting and searching for the right icon to press. It's also intuitive -- features and buttons are where you'd expect them to be, and they're easy to learn. Ease of use means less time is spent messing with the phone and more time is spent improving your business.

Polycom VVX Phones Are Customizable

The phone was made for business professionals in mind, but you can tailor it even further. Polycom phones are customizable, so you can change the settings of your phone to fit your business' unique needs. Do you need multiple or shared lines? Any VVX phone that you choose will support that option. Prefer to view your video calls a certain way? Edit the settings, and save them for future calls if you want. You can change the language, select a background image and screensaver for the touchscreen display, and even program the phone to go into power saving mode after office hours. Whatever your business needs, you can customize your Polycom to match. It's easy to make it uniquely yours.

Pair Your Business Phone to Your Computer

Okay, now let's move on to some of the more technical benefits. You can pair your Polycom VVX to your computer via a system from Microsoft. It's called BToE, or Better Together over Ethernet. It allows you to control audio and visual activity from either your phone or your computer. All you need is an app and an Ethernet cable. With BToE, you can manage calls with multiple people, switch between your phone and computer, and play audio from your computer through your phone. For example, if you were using your computer for a Skype call with a business partner, BToE would let you play the audio through the phone's speakers. You can also use your phone as the primary audio source for your computer, if you think that's a feature you'd like to use often.

Polycom VVX Offers QoE Monitoring

Being able to monitor QoE, or quality of experience, is important when making Skype or internet calls. The last thing that you want is to be on an important phone call with a client and have the sound suddenly become garbled. Or worse, have the call drop altogether. These issues are rare with Polycom, but just in case, there's a quick fix built in. QoE lets administrators monitor the quality in-call, so that you can hopefully avoid any problems. By default, your phone will send a QoE report at the end of each call. The constant feedback helps Polycom address problems before they become a big deal.

Easy Integration

If you already have a phone system but love the sound of a Polycom VVX so far, don't worry. Polycom VVX phones are built to integrate easily into existing IT systems. If you choose a VVX 400, for example, you can use it on your current network with no extra costs. You can also import any distribution lists you already have. From there, you can call an individual person, conference call with the entire list, and view the distribution -- all on your phone. Finally, there's even more that you can do with a USB port and a computer. For people who prepare a keyboard to a touchpad, you can integrate the phone with your computer's mouse and keyboard. Instead of using the touch screen, you can mouse over and click on things. This could come in helpful when you're adding new contacts. No more pressing one button three times to get to a letter. Just type the way you normally would. You can even sync your Outlook calendar with your phone. This lets you view and access your calendar -- so if you have a conference call on your schedule, you can simply click the number and call.

Polycom VVX Phones Are Accessible

If you happen to have employees with disabilities or impairments, accessibility is an important issue. Luckily, Polycom VVX phones have a variety of ways to make them easy to use for all people, regardless of ability. Here are some of the more notable features that you should know: Standard Accessibility Features Visual notifications and ringing: For those who are hearing impaired, the Polycom does have visual notifications to let you know the phone is ringing. You can even customize the notifications for individual callers! TTY support: TTY (telephone typewriter) is enabled so that people who are deaf or hard-of-hearing can type back and forth, instead of calling. It's like texting in a business phone. Unique Accessibility Features Hearing Aid Compatible handsets: Unsure of how you can operate this phone with a hearing aid? Don't feel like you have to crank up the volume. All of the Polycom handsets are hearing aid compatible and will automatically pair up. Auto-Answer: If this feature is enabled, you don't have to lift a finger to answer the phone -- literally. Calls will automatically be answered via speakerphone. This is for people with limited mobility, but it's also great for hands-free multitasking.

Bonus Features

Let's wrap up with some of the fun features of a Polycom VVX. Did you know that you can use the USB port of the phone to record phone calls? Never worry about taking notes during a conference call again. With a flash drive, you can record them to review later in case you missed any information. If you choose to do this, the display will show you how much memory you have left on the drive so you're not accidentally cut off. You can also make use of the "My Info Portal." This gives you access to personalized reports on the stock market, news, weather, and other content right on your phone. Who needs a smartphone when they have a Polycom?

Convinced?

Ready to install Polycom VVX in your Sarasota small business? Want to try out other Polycom products? VoiceOnyx is Polycom certified and ready to help you install your new phone system. Our customer service is sure to impress. We have service locations all throughout Florida, but we're easy to reach -- find out how. Click to Post