#how to apply high security number plate

[votermood]

High Security number plate online apply This guide explains how to obtain high security registration number plates. Ensure your vehicle complies with safety regulations by following these instructions.

[haniit]

How Advanced Analytics in CCTV Cameras Enhance Security Monitoring in Dubai

As the world continues to grow, people have become more conscious of security requirements than ever before. The picturesque city of Dubai, with its towering modern structures and a rapidly growing economy, owes its security to developed CCTV Camera technologies for its assets and people. One important element of such a security transformation is the embeddedness of CCTV systems with advanced analytics. Modern CCTV cameras are reimagining security monitoring and management with the help of features such as AI, ML, or Big Data. A SIRA approved company plays a pivotal role in implementing these cutting-edge systems, ensuring compliance with Dubai's rigorous security standards.

The Role of Advanced Analytics in CCTV Systems

CCTV smart analytics together with AI and/or ML techniques is a process where video data acquired through the recording systems is analyzed in real-time or offline. This technology is not just limited to CCTV cameras but includes cameras able to detect patterns, analyze anomalies and even give recommendations.

Such capabilities are crucial more so in Dubai, a city that welcomes multiple millions of tourists and operations annually. Subsequently, new high-tech shops, new tall buildings, homes, offices, and all the other facilities of Dubai take advantage of improved security by advanced analytics.

Key Features of Advanced Analytics in CCTV Cameras

Facial Recognition Technology:

The improved CCTVs are fitted with facial recognition to enable them to point out a given individual from a given video through comparison with a database of faces. This technology is very useful to recognize known offenders, kidnapped people or intruders in prohibited zones.

Motion Detection and Tracking:

CCTV systems with developed motion sensor capabilities signify even suspicious movements or activity, which includes cases of staking around or beyond the permissible limit. This feature proves particularly convenient in the security areas, like airports, or financially protected areas.

Behavioral Analysis:

Behavioral analysis tools can detect abnormal activities, such as someone leaving a bag unattended or engaging in aggressive behavior. These analytics trigger alerts for immediate intervention, ensuring a proactive approach to security.

License Plate Recognition (LPR):

It’s important for a city like Dubai, which is characterized by massive traffic and constant movement of vehicles on the roads. In CCTV cameras LPR technology instantly recognizes the license plates of cars and helps in the traffic regulation and identifying cars that have been stolen or that have not been registered.

Heat Mapping and Crowd Analytics:

Heat maps and crowd analytics also give information related to people density and their motions for organizing adequate crowd management during events or in public areas.

Integration with IoT and Smart Systems:

Contemporary CCTV technologies can be connected with IoT and smart city objects and components. This connectivity allows for better overall tracking and quicker response of security measures, increasing the effectiveness of security.

Benefits of Advanced Analytics in Security Monitoring

Proactive Security:

Because conventional CCTV systems mostly involve the monitoring of cameras by people, the system can be susceptible to fatigue and complacency. However, the latest technology used by a SIRA approved company facilitates alert generation and response in the shortest time, making security systems more reactive and efficient.

Enhanced Accuracy:

The present systems also enhance reliability by minimizing false alarms and guarantee the identification of real fires. For instance, the differences between an animal that is lost and a real intruder reduces the number of interventions that are made.

Data-Driven Insights:

Some of the heightened CCTV systems are ones that gather and evaluate information and are useful. Such information can be applied towards fine tuning security measures, when designing city layouts, or in arranging vehicles on the roads.

Cost-Effective Operations:

Reducing operational costs more than offset any required human capital since automation and artificial intelligence facilitates the analytics.

Compliance with Regulations:

Due to high security and privacy standards that are practiced in Dubai, better monitoring systems are adopted to meet such standards. Digitized CCTV systems give data and analysis with the security of recording events from the public space.

Applications of Advanced CCTV Analytics in Dubai

Commercial Establishments:

In malls, hotels, and corporate structures in Dubai, sophisticated CCTV analytics are employed to secure people on the premises, and properties. Facial recognition and behaviour tracking are integrated programs that serve to combat theft and intrusions.

Public Infrastructure:

By observing the usage of Dubai's airports, metro stations, and many other public amenities people can easily figure out how effective their advanced CCTV systems are for crowd management, traffic control, and emergency situations.

Residential Communities:

New generation security cameras in residential spaces provide protection to the community by detecting suspicious activities, people movements in and around buildings, and with home automation systems.

Event Management:

Other major events held in Dubai include ; Expo 2020 and Dubai Shopping Festival which is a major tourist attraction. The management of these events has been made easier by enhanced analysis in the CCTV cameras hence promoting public security and order.

Government and Critical Facilities:

Government facilities, consulates and other safety-sensitive assets receive increased security from advanced analysis. They include measures that discourage threats and guarantee a quick reaction to possible threats.

Challenges and Solutions

Despite its numerous advantages, implementing advanced CCTV analytics comes with challenges:

Privacy Concerns:

Facial recognition and behavioral analysis involve violation of privacy rights by individuals and organizations. In response to this, Dubai has imposed strict measures of collecting and processing data which protect individual’s privacy yet improve on security.

High Initial Investment:

Sophisticated CCTV systems entail one to incur big costs in the initial phases of installation. But the costs associated with the various changes are quickly offset by the long-term advantage of their usage in operating the enterprise in this manner safely.

Integration Complexities:

Applying advanced analytics with current frameworks can be complex and is therefore worth discussing. Security can only be implemented and integrated effectively, when security providers have enough experience in the field.

The Future of CCTV Analytics in Dubai

As the city of Dubai progresses towards making the city smart completely, the applications of advanced CCTV analytics will be even more opportunistic. 5G technology, edge computing and AI upgrades to current CCTV systems will enable better, faster, and smarter systems.

In the near future, we can expect:

Predictive Analytics: The decision making models of Machine Learning algorithms will interpret historical data for predicting the probable threats so that necessary preventions can be taken.

Autonomous Drones: Compatibility with drones with cameras will offer live surveillance for oversized areas, construction zones, or events.

Deeper AI Integration: They will become smarter and start learning from the incidents in order to perform better.

Conclusion

Modern features like integrated analytical skills in the use of CCTV cameras have helped in enhancing security in Dubai by being smart security, efficient security, and proactive security. Integrating these systems with AI, ML, and IoT helps to meet the security requirements of the flexibly developing and fast-growing city. With the expertise of SIRA approved companies driving these advancements, the introduction of more advanced technology in the near future is greatly establishing Dubai as a city of smart and secure urban world.

[macwell-sign]

“Custom Housing Society Nameplates Durable & Stylish Nameplates by MacwellSign”

At Macwell Sign, we specialize in crafting high-quality, durable, and aesthetically pleasing nameplates for housing societies. Whether you’re looking for traditional designs or modern, sleek options, our wide range of customizable nameplates ensures that every housing society reflects its identity with elegance and precision.

Our Offerings

1. Premium Quality Materials

We use top-notch materials such as stainless steel, brass, acrylic, wood, and more to create nameplates that are not only visually appealing but also long-lasting and weather-resistant. Each material is carefully chosen to ensure durability and minimal maintenance.

2. Customized Designs

Every housing society is unique, and so should be its nameplate. We offer fully customizable design options where you can choose fonts, colors, finishes, and sizes that align with your society’s theme. Whether you’re looking for a classic or contemporary look, we’ve got you covered.

3. Advanced Engraving Techniques

Our state-of-the-art engraving techniques provide a flawless finish to every nameplate. Whether it’s laser engraving, etching, or embossing, we ensure precision in every detail.

4. Weather-Resistant Coating

To ensure that your society’s nameplate remains intact and vibrant for years, we apply a weather-resistant coating that protects against rain, sunlight, and corrosion.

Why Choose Us?

Durability:- Our nameplates are designed to withstand the toughest weather conditions while retaining their appearance and structural integrity.

Customization:- We offer tailored solutions that match your housing society’s aesthetic preferences and functional requirements.

Expert Craftsmanship:- Our team of skilled artisans and designers bring years of experience to deliver perfection in every project.

Timely Delivery:- We understand the importance of deadlines and ensure prompt delivery without compromising on quality.

How It Works

Consultation:- Share your vision with us. We will help you choose the right material, design, and engraving style that fits your housing society’s unique identity.

Design Approval:- After receiving your preferences, we create a mock-up for your review. Adjustments can be made until you’re completely satisfied.

Production & Installation:- Once the design is approved, we begin production. Our team also offers installation services to ensure the nameplate is fitted securely and correctly.

Post-Sale Support:- Even after installation, our team is available for any maintenance or repair services you may need in the future.

Building Lobby Nameplates, Society Nameplates, Flat Number Plate

[spin4bvbx]

Understanding the Essentials of Vehicle Registration and Identification in Malaysia

In Malaysia, vehicle ownership involves more than just purchasing a car—it includes obtaining the correct documentation and unique identifiers for legal driving and taxation. From securing your JPJ Number Plate to understanding your LHDN TIN Number, there are several elements that contribute to a seamless ownership experience. This article breaks down these essential components, including how to use MySejahtera Office services, and explores the costs associated with these processes, specifically the JPJ Number Plate Price List.

1. JPJ Number Plate: An Overview of Vehicle Registration Every vehicle on Malaysian roads requires a JPJ Number Plate, issued by Malaysia’s Road Transport Department (JPJ). These number plates serve as unique identifiers for each car or motorcycle, ensuring that vehicles are registered under specific owners, thereby aiding in law enforcement, vehicle tracking, and road safety. The style of the number plates is standardized by JPJ, making it easier to differentiate vehicles based on their registration numbers.

The JPJ Number Plate system is straightforward but requires specific attention to detail. When you purchase a vehicle, new or used, it’s crucial to ensure that the vehicle’s registration details are updated under your name. The registration process involves visiting a JPJ office and providing documentation such as proof of purchase, identification, and insurance papers. Once completed, your vehicle is formally registered under your ownership, with the JPJ issuing a unique number plate that will remain associated with your vehicle.

2. JPJ Number Plate Price List: Cost of a Custom Registration Malaysia’s Road Transport Department provides a price list for number plates based on their demand and uniqueness. Many individuals and businesses are interested in obtaining customized or unique JPJ Number Plates. These special plates often have personalized combinations or numbers that are significant to the owner, making the demand—and cost—higher than regular plates.

The JPJ Number Plate Price List varies significantly depending on the rarity of the plate. For example, numbers that are considered lucky or prestigious, like single digits or easily recognizable patterns, typically cost much more. Bidding for these plates can sometimes reach a substantial amount, as interested buyers compete for their desired numbers. However, for regular plates, the cost remains affordable and accessible for the general public, as JPJ aims to ensure vehicle registration is not financially prohibitive.

3. LHDN TIN Number: Taxpayer Identification for Vehicle Owners Another important element for vehicle ownership is obtaining an LHDN TIN Number. Managed by the Inland Revenue Board of Malaysia (LHDN), the TIN (Taxpayer Identification Number) is essential for tracking an individual’s or entity’s tax obligations, especially for those involved in business transactions, property ownership, and, of course, vehicle registration.

The LHDN TIN Number is mandatory for anyone who is liable to pay taxes in Malaysia, including vehicle owners who may need to document vehicle purchases and sales for tax purposes. This number plays a crucial role in maintaining a transparent tax record, and is often required for significant financial transactions, particularly those involving high-value items like automobiles. When buying or selling a car, it’s essential to provide your TIN, as LHDN requires this for proper documentation and assessment.

Applying for an LHDN TIN is relatively simple and can be done online through the LHDN portal or by visiting an LHDN office. Once you’ve received your TIN, it’s essential to keep it safe and accessible, as it will be required for numerous financial transactions, tax filings, and government services.

4. MySejahtera Office: A Portal for Health and Administrative Services While primarily known for its role in health and safety, MySejahtera Office has evolved into a central portal for various government services, simplifying many bureaucratic processes. Initially created as a health management application, MySejahtera is now being used for several administrative purposes, including providing resources for vehicle registration, tracking, and more.

The MySejahtera Office platform offers an accessible way for citizens to interact with various government departments without needing to visit in person. For instance, if you need to confirm or update your personal details for vehicle registration, MySejahtera provides a secure and convenient way to manage these records digitally. Although it is still expanding its capabilities, MySejahtera has already proven to be a valuable tool for accessing multiple government services, including health records, tax details, and other essential documentation.

5. Integrating Key Elements for a Smooth Vehicle Ownership Experience Vehicle ownership in Malaysia encompasses several key components, from securing the right JPJ Number Plate to ensuring compliance with tax requirements via the LHDN TIN Number. By understanding the JPJ Number Plate Price List, you can make informed decisions about whether to opt for a standard registration or invest in a personalized plate. Meanwhile, utilizing resources like the MySejahtera Office can simplify many administrative tasks, making the vehicle registration and tax compliance processes smoother and more accessible.

The interaction between these various elements underscores the importance of organized documentation for vehicle owners in Malaysia. By taking the time to familiarize yourself with these systems and the associated processes, you can streamline your experience as a vehicle owner, ensuring that you meet all necessary requirements while taking advantage of modern conveniences.

From confirming registration details through the JPJ and updating tax information with LHDN to leveraging MySejahtera for official transactions, these steps provide a comprehensive framework that makes vehicle ownership manageable and organized.

[integrating-sphere]

Understanding IPX9K Testing: How it Works and Why it Matters

The High Temperature Pressure Jet Waterproof Test Chamber is an important experimental equipment, usually made of materials such as stainless steel or domestic steel plates. It can simulate high-temperature and high-pressure conditions in real environments, and conduct reliability testing and performance verification on products in experiments. Its main function is to spray high-pressure and high-temperature water into materials, components, and various product equipment through water pumps or pressure conveying systems in high-pressure, high-temperature, and high humidity environments for spraying testing to evaluate their durability and reliability. It can be applied to industries such as automobiles, electrical appliances, LED outdoor lighting, and has a wide range of applications. What is the function of the High Temperature Pressure Jet Waterproof Test Chamber? The High Temperature Pressure Jet Waterproof Test Chamber has the characteristics of stable temperature control, which can automatically control temperature, pressure, and humidity, and has various safety protection measures. Select different models of equipment for use according to actual needs. The use of a high-temperature and high-pressure spray test chamber can effectively evaluate the lifespan and stability of products. In short, the High Temperature Pressure Jet Waterproof Test Chamber is an important spray test equipment that effectively improves the waterproof performance of the product, facilitates design, and enhances the competitive advantage of the product. Therefore, in the modern production and manufacturing process, the High Temperature Pressure Jet Waterproof Test Chamber has become an indispensable experimental tool in various industries. The structure and function of the ipx9k High Temperature Pressure Jet Waterproof Test Chamber: The ipx9k High Temperature Pressure Jet Waterproof Test Chamber is mainly composed of a quantitative spray system, circuit control system, heating system, cooling system, high-pressure water source system, protective screen, etc. A quantitative injection system usually includes a spray nozzle and several nozzles of different sizes, which can be set according to different actual scenarios to ensure the accuracy of the testing process. The circuit control system can help users accurately control the water temperature and pressure inside the chamber. The heating and cooling systems can assist in controlling temperature to enhance test results. The ipx9k High Temperature Pressure Jet Waterproof Test Chamber is also very powerful, and can be used to evaluate the waterproof, dustproof, and acid-base resistance of electronic devices. For example, when evaluating the waterproof performance of a mobile phone, it can be placed in a test chamber and sprayed with high-pressure and high-temperature water to check whether the phone can operate normally under water conditions. The steps for changing the water for the ipx9K High Temperature Pressure Jet Waterproof Test Chamber are as follows: Open the water tank cover and check if the water quality in the storage tank has become turbid. If it is turbid, it needs to be replaced in a timely manner. 1. Check if the drainage pipe on the back of the chassis is securely connected, and place one end of the water pipe into the drainage channel. 2. Open the drain valve and start draining. 3. Observe the water tank, drain the water thoroughly, and then close the drain valve. 4. Check if the water inlet pipe is unobstructed and if the faucet is turned on. 5. Enter the testing interface, click the "Add Water" button, and wait until the water is refilled. The experimental parameters set in the experimental report of the IPX9K High Temperature Pressure Jet Waterproof Test Chamber are as follows: 1. Cycle count setting: Set the number of cycles (the standard requires one); 2. Spray time setting: Set the spray time of a single nozzle. (Standard 30 seconds); 3. Interval setting: Set the time to stop spraying water during the nozzle switching process. (Standard 10 seconds); 4. Water temperature setting: Set the test water temperature. (Standard 80 ℃); 5. Rotary table speed setting: Set the rotational speed of the rotary table. (Standard 5r/min). 6. Sample power-off time setting: The time during the test when the tested sample is in a powered on state, in minutes; 7. Sample power-off time setting: The time during the test when the tested sample is in a power-off state, in minutes. JL-9K1L High Temperature & Pressure Jet Waterproof Test Chamber is according to IEC60529:1989 +A1:1999 +A2：2013 《Degrees of protection provided by enclosures(IP Code)》, GB4208, DIN40050-9，GB7000.1，ISO20653 and VW80000 for protection level IPX9K testing. It is a waterproof test machine designed for vehicle spare parts, electrical and electronic industry, to simulate natural environment or human factors. The both interior and exterior material of this chamber is high quality stainless steel, big glass observation window and elegant appearance. The turntable and spray lance adopt imported motor, and the rotation speed is adjustable. Lisun Instruments Limited was found by LISUN GROUP in 2003. LISUN quality system has been strictly certified by ISO9001:2015. As a CIE Membership, LISUN products are designed based on CIE, IEC and other international or national standards. All products passed CE certificate and authenticated by the third party lab. Our main products are Goniophotometer, Integrating Sphere, Spectroradiometer, Surge Generator, ESD Simulator Guns, EMI Receiver, EMC Test Equipment, Electrical Safety Tester, Environmental Chamber, Temperature Chamber, Climate Chamber, Thermal Chamber, Salt Spray Test, Dust Test Chamber, Waterproof Test, RoHS Test (EDXRF), Glow Wire Test and Needle Flame Test. Please feel free to contact us if you need any support. Tech Dep: Service@Lisungroup.com, Cell/WhatsApp:+8615317907381 Sales Dep: Sales@Lisungroup.com, Cell/WhatsApp:+8618117273997 Read the full article

[deluxetaxiamsterdam]

"The Convenience of Hailing a Taxi in Amsterdam"

Introduction

Amsterdam, a city of picturesque canals, historic architecture, and vibrant culture, invites exploration at every turn. While walking and cycling are popular modes of transportation, there are moments when the convenience of hailing a taxi in Amsterdam becomes invaluable. In this article, we'll uncover the seamless experience of using Taxi Amsterdam services and how they enhance your journey through this captivating city.

Effortless Hailing with Taxi Amsterdam

One of the standout features of Amsterdam's transportation network is the availability and accessibility of taxis. Whether you're at the central train station, a bustling square, or even in the quieter neighborhoods, finding a Taxi Amsterdam service is remarkably easy. The distinctive blue number plates of licensed cabs make them easily recognizable, ensuring you're getting into a legitimate, regulated vehicle.

Licensed and Reliable Services

Amsterdam's taxis are renowned for their reliability and adherence to high standards. All taxis are required to be licensed and display the official blue plates, giving you the assurance of a safe and legitimate ride. This commitment to regulation ensures that your journey is not only convenient but also secure.

Convenience for Every Occasion

Whether you're a visitor arriving at Schiphol Airport or a local heading out for a night on the town, a Taxi Amsterdam service caters to a wide range of transportation needs. From solo travelers to families with luggage, these taxis are equipped to accommodate various passenger requirements, providing a hassle-free way to reach your destination.

Efficient Fare Structures

Understanding the fare structure is essential to make the most of your Taxi Amsterdam experience. The city operates on a metered system, which means you pay for the distance and time traveled. Additional charges may apply for services like carrying luggage or accommodating pets. It's advisable to confirm the fare with the driver before embarking on your journey for full transparency.

Contributing to Sustainable Transportation

In recent years, Amsterdam has made significant strides towards sustainable transportation, and taxis are no exception. Many Taxi Amsterdam services offer eco-friendly options, including electric or hybrid vehicles. By choosing these environmentally-conscious options, you're not only enjoying a convenient ride but also contributing to Amsterdam's broader sustainability goals.

Conclusion

In Amsterdam, hailing a taxi is a seamless experience that complements the city's dynamic atmosphere. Whether you're a visitor exploring the cultural riches or a resident navigating everyday life, Taxi Amsterdam services offer a reliable and convenient mode of transportation. With licensed operators, transparent fare structures, and a commitment to sustainability, these taxis exemplify the city's dedication to providing a top-notch travel experience. So, next time you're in Amsterdam, embrace the convenience and comfort of hailing a taxi, and let it enhance your journey through this enchanting city. Happy travels!

[healthandmedicalblog]

Dengue Facts That You Should Know

Knowledge of Dengue Fever

Dengue fever is a mosquito-borne tropical sickness brought about by the dengue infection which is communicated to people through the nibble of a tainted Aedes mosquito. It tends to be brought about by 4 unique kinds of a similar infection (DENV-1, DENV-2, DENV-3 and DENV-4). Assuming you have been contaminated from one strain, you can get tainted again from the excess 3 strains. Thus, people can be tainted with dengue fever up to multiple times.

Recuperation from dengue contamination is accepted to give deep rooted invulnerability against that strain however not against different strains. First-time dengue diseases can be serious, particularly among people with debilitated safe frameworks. Rehashed dengue diseases increase the gamble of creating serious dengue.

Dengue fever is broad all through the jungles. In Singapore, the Service of Health has detailed 20 passes, and the combined number of dengue cases to date this year remains at north of 22,400. Our areas are sorted as green, yellow and red zones to separately demonstrate the rising gamble of dengue fever in that area. At present, there are near 400 dengue bunches in Singapore.

How does Dengue Fever spread?

Mosquito-to-human Transmission

The dengue infection is sent to people through the chomps of contaminated female Aedes mosquitoes.

Human-to-mosquito Transmission

People conveying the dengue infection can taint mosquitoes. A mosquito becomes contaminated when it takes a blood dinner from a dengue-tainted individual. After a hatching time of 8 to 12 days, the mosquito becomes infective and will stay infective all through its life expectancy.

Dengue fever isn't infectious and doesn't spread straightforwardly from one individual to another.

Symptoms of Dengue Fever

An individual nibbled by a tainted Aedes mosquito might foster side effects after roughly 3 to 14 days.

Normal symptoms related are:

Fever of unexpected beginning, going on for 1-7 days

Muscle and joint agonies

Extreme migraine

Torment behind the eyes

Skin rashes

Draining eg from the gum and nose, and simple swelling

Sickness and retching

The principal hazard of dengue fever is the movement to dengue hemorrhagic fever or dengue shock condition which can bring about death in uncommon cases. This happens around 3 to 7 days after the main beginning of side effects with demolishing side effects. Cautioning indications of serious dengue include:

More articulated draining issues (draining from the nose and gums, into the skin and inside organs, dark hued stool)

Tireless spewing

Serious stomach torment

How is Dengue Fever treated?

There is no particular prescription or antibiotic to treat dengue fever. Treatment is strong and coordinated towards the help of side effects. Drugs can be taken to control the side effects of muscle agony and fever. Likewise, having more than adequate rest and a lot of liquids is vital to stay away from drying out from heaving and high fever.

In additional serious cases, there might be a need to be hospitalized for cautious observing and treatment that incorporates liquid and electrolyte substitution or potentially blood bondings.

How to safeguard against Dengue Fever?

The best security is to try not to get chomped by mosquitoes. This should be possible by:

Applying bug repellent consistently

Wearing long-sleeved tops and long jeans of light tones

Dozing under mosquito nets introducing wire-network screens on windows, or in cooled rooms to keep mosquitoes out

Showering insect spray in dull corners around the house

Aedes mosquitoes like to raise in spotless, stale water handily tracked down in our homes. You can keep them from reproducing by:

Slackening solidified soil

Turning over buckets

Tipping containers

Flipping window box plates

Clearing the rooftop drain and setting BTI bug spray

More data can be tracked down in the Public Climate Organization site.

Is there an inoculation for Dengue Fever?

Indeed, Dengvaxia® is an immunization used to help safeguard against dengue sickness in people matured 12 - 45 years, and who have had earlier dengue contamination.

It isn't suggested for the people who have NOT had past contamination as proof shows a more extended term chance of more serious sickness upon disease in such people following immunization.

You might book a meeting with us for immunizations or counsel our primary care physician to see whether you are reasonable for the dengue antibody.

How would it be a good idea for you to respond in the event that you suspect you have Dengue Fever?

Kindly look for guaranteed clinical consideration on the off chance that you assume you have dengue fever. Blood tests to evaluate for dengue and observing of blood platelet levels are accessible to help the conclusion and the executives of dengue fever.

Assuming that you are getting back from an area where dengue fever is common, you ought to likewise be cautious and screen for side effects of dengue fever. If all else fails, counsel a specialist despite the fact that you may not show any side effects. Our primary care physicians at Minmed Facilities will be glad to help you.

[reincarnatedumakalisaanvi]

Work Experience

I'm not funded from Colombians, my money is printed

Hello, 

How would i be homeless and unable to get a job? I've worked at numerous places and been working 16 years old 

1) teaneck Montessori day care from sophomore year in high school until senior year 

             -certified CPR in infants/toddlers/adults

2) dress barn in union nj while attending kean 

3) Express out let Jersey Gardens while doing school work at Kean 

4)Sojo Spa (they fired me because of my hair when i was in my domestic violence relationship with persaudvi@kean.edu and i took a day off)

5) Ywca Ridgewood NJ and with 

 elementary school children (got up at 5am in the morning everyday) 

           -certified in CPR and First Aid for infants/toddlers/and adults 

6) American women swim an fitnes (doing data entry for Mrs. Sun, swim appointments on a Mac computer getting up to open the gym every morning at 5am)

7) Robert half temp agency 

            -brookaire (data entry, office work, receptionist using excel) (robert half in saddle brooke nj)

            -david yurman (packaging and shipping)

8) kearny reimbursement center (selling solar door to door) Kearny nj 

9)brio energy (Columbia SC where i walked door to door selling solar energy while a month pregnant) 

10) Zoes kitchen (they made me take dirty plates and take people garbage, the staff stole $10 from me and then got me fired me for getting mad)  

11)Lake Murray Montessori (i worked with toddlers and pre k) 

           -recertified in CPR   

12)Robert Half temp agency

            -Arcutechutrial building 

13) then i got pregnant and i didn't work for about 2 years 

14) Pop shelf (while i was going to school online at snhu and complete online cousin in a week and a half i recieved reimbursement of 1000 and popshelf was a weekly paying job, i was saving to mice out and they fired me for a $5 umbrella and i speculate cardi b made my parents make me use my money at a hotel room so i wouldn't have money and be forced to do a threesome and prostitute myself

15)McCall Farms with Ayrton Vaughan when i lived in Lynchburg Sc and i was the cleaning lady. 

I've been working since 16 and applying to jobs in indeed where they refuse to find be a proper job. Im 27 years old, my is Tiara Brown 

Alias Saanvi Devi 

And I'm lying to Police like saying Chiti Singh and ECT because they keep trying to arrest me, because cardi b threatened my parents with getting me to mental health where they injected me with risperidone and as well as invega sustenna which messed up my heart. I SPECULATE the elite or micro chips in me to control my body. And cardi b and Beyonce used military to threaten my parents to get me into mental health so they could keep me away from MEN, to stop me from having babies, i wanted to be pregnant again as soon as my son Kyre Mason Brown started walking. As well as they had their connect Kayla Instagram kayla_ . Rodriguez Snapchat Kaylalisa_xo impersonate me while trying to kill me off and had my social security number stolen at a child support hearing that i never received child support and was brainwashed into being homosexual (WHICH DIDN'T WORK) and liking KAYLA WHICH DIDN'T WITH EITHER. 

My social is 143-98-6651 and you can verify all these places that I've worked. Police are trying to get me arrested so they can give be song away and prevent me from becoming a celebrity, and my lawyer in jail will be associated with Columbia SC and i will be treated unfairly. 

Why am i being offered jobs like Starbucks subway ?

[vilaspatelvlogs]

हाई सिक्योरिटी नंबर प्लेट को लेकर यहां फंसा पेंच, इस राज्य से दिल्ली आने वाली गाड़ियों पर लग रहा जुर्माना

हाई सिक्योरिटी नंबर प्लेट को लेकर यहां फंसा पेंच, इस राज्य से दिल्ली आने वाली गाड़ियों पर लग रहा जुर्माना

पढ़ें अमर उजाला ई-पेपर कहीं भी, कभी भी। *Yearly subscription for just ₹299 Limited Period Offer. HURRY UP! ख़बर सुनें ख़बर सुनें देश के कई राज्यों में हाई सिक्योरिटी नंबर प्लेट (एचएसआरपी) प्लेट को लगाना अनिवार्य हो गया है, लेकिन मध्य प्रदेश के ग्वालियर में पुराने वाहनों में हाई सिक्योरिटी नंबर प्लेट नहीं लगाई जा रही हैं। इसके चलते वाहन मालिकों को भारी परेशानी का सामना करना पड़ रहा है। दरअसल…

[drnikolatesla]

Roentgen Rays: Mr. Tesla Before N.Y. Academy of Sciences.

By B.P. Remy

Electrical Review, NY. April 14, 1897.

"On April 6, Mr. Nikola Tesla delivered before the New York Academy of Sciences an address "On the Streams of Leonard and Röentgen, with Novel Apparatus for Their Production." The lecturer began by stating that in 1894, in experimenting to determine the actinic action of phosphorescent light emanating from vacuum tubes, he had found that the atinic power of Crookes tubes varied greatly, and in the most anomalous manner. Thus some tubes emitting a strong light had very little action on photographic plates, while some showing a feeble light acted very strongly on such plates. A large number of these plates, made by Tonnele for the Century Magazine, were stored in Mr. Tesla's laboratory when it was destroyed by fire, and thus he was unable now to examine them for the Röentgen effects. He believed that he had just missed the discovery which made Röentgen famous, and though he was thoroughly familiar with Leonard's work, he did not see far enough.

"Mr. Tesla then reviewed his work in the direction of obtaining a reliable apparatus for generating high-frequency currents, which he recognized as the keynote to the production of vacuum tube lighting. He told how he had met with difficulties at every point; how a small bubble of air would destroy the value of the coil, or how one-quarter of an inch of wire too much or too little would throw a coil out of balance; how one day a coil would run cold and on another day hot, etc. By finally calling to his aid the condenser, Mr. Tesla stated, he had succeeded in obtaining the desired action and now nothing stood in the way of securing millions of vibrations from ordinary circuit. The lecturer then briefly explained the principle of the condenser discharge as applied to high frequency currents, and pointed to various types of apparatus on the lecture table designed to utilize the principle.

"In order to demonstrate the action of high frequency currents, Mr. Tesla attached a circular loop of heavy copper wire to the terminals of a high frequency generator and brought to brilliant incandescence a small lamp connected diametrically across the heavy loop; the illumination of the lamp could be varied by connecting it to various points on the diameter of the loop. Mr. Tesla also lit the lamp by the current induced in a second loop brought in proximity to the first. He explained that the coil accomplishing this work had a resistance of 600 ohms and an inductance of 6 henry's; the coil was connected to the circuit one-half the time and took from the primary circuit only 5 watts.

"Mr. Tesla next showed a vacuum tube lit from the terminals of another high frequency machine. He also showed a coil consisting of a single turn of heavy wire which formed the core, as it were, of a small coil of a few turns wound on a paper cylinder surrounding the heavy wire. When connected to a high frequency generator, this apparatus gave a 4-inch spark with an expenditure of energy equal to that taken by one lamp. Mr. Tesla stated that his high frequency generators were constructed that they could be connected to any existing circuits, direct or alternating.

"Returning to the Röentgen rays, the lecturer stated that he had succeeded in discovering a new source of these rays, far more powerful than any heretofore available, though the difficulty of maintaining it was very great. This new source is the electric arc; not the ordinary arc, however. The arc required for purposes is that maintained between a platinum terminal and an aluminum plate, as illustrating in the accompanying diagram, where A represents the aluminium plate and B the platinum, enclosed in a glass jar.

"Mr. Tesla stated that he had also succeeded in deflecting the Röentgen rays by a magnet. He had proved this by deflecting the rays into a condenser place a long distance from the source of the rays, and which in 5 seconds was charged sufficiently to throw a galvameter needle off the scale."

[onceupon]

London Boy

summary: Y/n finds herself all the way across the pond, trying to escape OBX. But much to her surprise, a certain someone might get in the way.

pairing: Rafe x reader (just an intro in this part, we’ll get there dw)

warnings: swearing, drinking, some mentions of anxiety?

word count: 3.2k

a/n: if you’re a sucker for a slow burn like me, buckle up and enjoy the ride. I plan on this being multiple parts and this is also my first time posting so please be gentle with me lol :’-) (not canon Rafe)

You huffed as you dragged your extra large and definitely overweight luggage down to the pickup area at Heathrow airport. You had just landed in London where you’d be going to school until the holidays.  You had decided to apply for, and actually got accepted into, your high school’s British exchange program. Every year Kildare Academy gave the option for 15 seniors to study for half the school year at Westheath Academy in London, a private boarding school, while 15 kids from their school came to yours. Normally, you wouldn’t have dreamed of leaving your friends and family for that long, not to mention missing out on half of senior year at home. But ever since the drama that erupted during the summer after your junior year that ended with you being shunned by your “friend group” (where they really ever your friends to begin with?), you practically jumped at the opportunity to get as far away from the Outer Banks as possible, albeit for a little while.

You didn’t know at all what to expect at Westheath, you had skipped the predeparture orientation at Kildare a few weeks ago, but you didn’t care - didn’t care who was going or what Westheath was like, all that mattered was that for the next few months you could finally breath. It was the clean slate you desperately needed, a chance to finally be around people and places you hadn’t known since birth. Sure there were going to be 14 other kids from Kildare there as well, but you had zero intentions of sticking with your OBX peers over the next few months. You weren’t going to let your small town suffocate you for a second longer if you could help it.

You double checked the license plate on your phone screen as the Uber you ordered pulled up.

“Y/N?” the driver called out from the front-right window (god that was going to take some getting used to.)

“Yep!” you smiled, huffing as you tried to pick up your luggage and step off the curb. Thankfully the uber driver was quick to your rescue, effortlessly lifting your suitcase into the trunk of the car. Leave it to you to overpack without even thinking to leave room for all of the clothes and souvenirs you were certain to accumulate - oh well, an excuse for a new suitcase you supposed.

Not in the mood for small talk, you were relieved that the Uber driver silently read your mind, playing a pop station as you both respectfully ignored each other’s presence. You anxiously tapped your thumb on your phone, eyes flicking between the screen where you watched your route progress and the view out your window of townhomes, pubs, and countless strangers passing by.

You hadn’t felt anxious about leaving for London the entire first half of junior year, so why was your stomach and head simultaneously churning now? You were so excited to experience a version of life that was the opposite of everything you were trying to get away from - a version of life that involved British accents, buzzing city life, and endless possibilities. But it was all of a sudden dawning on you how unfamiliar it all was. As much as you hated to admit it to yourself, no matter how far you ran, you would never be able to fully separate yourself from OBX. That damned small beach-town would always be a part of you, an inextricable thread in the fabric of your life.

The Uber pulled up to a halt in front of your destination. You hesitantly glanced out your window as you double checked the silver number on the building. Yep, 25 Brampton Rd - you were here. The Uber driver graciously lifted your suitcase out of the trunk for you and as he pulled away you let out a long breath - your fresh start was waiting behind the doors in front of you.

You rang the doorbell to the lobby, the security here no joke. You were soon buzzed into the building and you shakily pulled your suitcase in behind you, desperately trying to calm your nerves to no avail.

“Hi,” you croaked out as you approached the man seated at the front desk. “I’m- uhh here to check in to my apartment- uh I mean flat… I think… I’m with the Kildare Academy exchange,” you rambled, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Despite your best efforts, your anxiety was taking over.

The man gave you a sympathetic smile. “Name please?”

“Y/n L/n,” you replied, pulling your lips into a sheepish straight-lined smile as you mindlessly tapped your fingers on the handle of your suit case.

“L/n, L/n, L/n,” the man quietly muttered under his breath as his pen traced over a list of names. “Ahh here you are. Alright Miss L/n, here is a fob, this lets you into the building, now this key lets you into your flat, you’ll be on the second floor - apartment 2C, and this key is for your individual room,” he began to fire off at you as he rounded the desk and came to grab your suitcase, beginning to walk as you hastily followed suit. “This packet will tell you everything you need to know about our building here - wifi, laundry, trash days,” he shoved some papers in your hand as you both entered the elevator, him pressing the button for the second floor.

You emerged on to your floor and a few steps later you two were at the door of your new home, which the man quickly unlocked gesturing for you to step inside. “And this, Miss L/n, is your flat for the next few months with us here at Westheath. Your room is the second right down the hall there and I believe you’re the first here. Two of your flatmates who are yet to check in are from Kildare, such as yourself, and the other two are students of our own here at Westheath. You know I’m surprised how early you are, classes don’t start until next week! But nevertheless I’ll let you get settled,” you stood staring blankly at your new surroundings, more or less registering the words this man was firing off at you.

“I’m Richard by the way, if you ever need anything you know where to find me,” the man extended his hand toward you.

“Thank you,” you smiled, accepting his handshake.

“Welcome to Westheath,” he smiled back and just as quickly was turning on his heel and back out the door before you could get in another word, leaving you in your new flat by yourself.

You slowly walked through the empty place, meandering through the kitchen and living area, down the hall, peaking into the bathroom, and then finding your way to your room. It certainly wasn’t the type of living arrangement you were used to back home - your family lived on Figure 8 in the Outer Banks meaning you had grown up surrounded by mansions and luxuries. This place was small, simple, and yet it was cozy and well… perfect. It was the exact opposite of your Figure 8 life and that alone was enough to make you love it. You smiled, content, as you sank on to your empty bed, taking in your new room. You had a nice sized desk, a decent shelf, and a wardrobe. Simple and sufficient. You could get used to this. The room was starkly barren, but since school wasn’t set to start for another week and no one was here yet you made a mental note to go on a little mission to find some plants and decorations to bring the white box that was your room a bit more to life.

——-

Three days had passed and still your other flat mates had yet to show. You were starting to wonder if they ever would or if you’d end up living in this flat all by yourself. Your room was now decorated, you had found some cute posters in a shop you had wandered into, some plants in another, and string lights in a third. You had acquainted yourself with the grocery store around the corner and the drug store down the street and you’d even gone on the tube all by yourself.

Being on your own these last few days had been decidedly therapeutic, leaving you unable to contain a cheesy grin every time it hit you that you were actually here, in London, far far away from OBX. But you couldn’t help feeling a little lonely, with a passing hello to Richard every time you left and returned to the building being your main source of human interaction these last few days.

You laid on your bed as you debated the decision you were about to make - you would’ve never dared to use Tinder back home. You knew virtually everyone on the island and would’ve been absolutely mortified to match with anybody there. But hey - you were in London baby! This was a fresh start and nothing was off limits. You sighed and gave in, downloading the app and quickly making a profile. You must’ve rearranged the order of your pictures at least a dozen times before you finally decided it was good enough. You started to swipe, an endless supply of British boys at your finger tips. You couldn’t suppress a chuckle at how funny the whole concept was, your inbox already flooding with cheesy pick up lines from your matches. You spent the next hour going back and forth with these boys, silly, meaningless, flirty conversations - god it was so much easier being a flirt through a screen, you would be positively flushed in the face in person, unless you were drunk of course (your drunk self was a dangerously confident flirt for sure).

Liam: are you free tonight? Down to grab a drink and chat?

Oh wow. Straight to the point wasn’t he. You knew the point of the app was to eventually get off it and meet up with someone, but now that you were met with the opportunity, your stomach was flipping upside down. Fuck it, what do you have to lose?

Y/n: yeah that sounds great, I’m in Hammersmith if you wanted to go somewhere there?

Liam: perfect so am I (: 8pm at The Ladle. See you there xx

Pure adrenaline coursed through your body as you started doing your hair and makeup, throwing clothes all around your small room to find the perfect outfit that was cute but simultaneously made it seem like you weren’t trying too hard. You threw your wallet and keys in your purse, chugged the glass of wine you had been casually sipping on by yourself, and quickly headed out the door before you could overthink it and change your mind.

——

You nervously approached the bar that Google Maps had directed to you, not sure what you were getting yourself into, but you had already walked all the way here so you’d be damned if you didn’t see it through.

“Y/n?” a voice called out to you. God, hearing your name in that accent sent shivers down your spine.

“Yeah that’s me, Liam?” you questioned back, staring up at the fluffy browned-hair boy approaching you.

“That’s me,” he winked, extending his arm out to you which you nervously grabbed, as he led you into The Ladle, spotting an empty table for the two of you.

“So Y/n, what are you doing here in London. Something tells me you’re not from here?”the boy across from you smiled as you two got settled in your seats.

“Hmmm I wonder what could’ve ever given it away,” you replied with a sarcastic smile, American accent in full force. “But I’m here for school, on an exchange at Westheath Academy.”

“Oh shit, that means we’ll see each other around. I’m finishing up my last year actually. And somehow you’re the first American I’ve had the pleasure of being on a date with,” he smiled with a devilish grin that felt like it was burning into you, you hoping the flush on your cheeks wasn’t too obvious with the dim lighting.

“Lucky me,” you smiled back, faking a sly confidence as best you could despite the fact that you were all nerves on the inside. Dating was not something you were familiar with, having maybe gone on two back home, if those even counted.

“First round on me, what are you drinking tonight Y/n?”

“Umm a vodka cran is fine,” you replied to which you were immediately met with a scoff.

“No way babe, you’re in a pub in England now. Should’ve figured as much coming from an American like you,” he chuckled with a shake of his head, his fluffy hair bouncing with it. “I’m getting you a pint,” he asserted, walking over to the bar and giving you a moment to breath and collect yourself. You hated beer but weren’t about to put up a fight, at this point you would down just about any alcohol in order to get some more liquid courage in your system.

He quickly returned, placing the tall glass of golden-colored liquid in front of you.

“Cheers, to new school mates,” he winked extending his glass up to yours.

“To new school mates,” you smiled back, bringing your glass to clink with his, taking a long swig and trying not to grimace at the taste of the liquid going down your throat.

——

The night passed by quickly, you and Liam going through three rounds of drinks as you both laughed and bantered with one another, your nerves all but dissipated by the alcohol now coursing through your bloodstream. Heck, the beer was even starting to taste… good? God you barely recognized yourself anymore, but in the best possible way. One by one you were letting the closely guarded walls you had built up over the years in OBX fall, and you were feeling better than ever before - you felt free.

You and Liam stumbled back arms linked to the building you found out you were both living in, Liam on the fourth floor. You rummaged for the fob in your purse and you both got on the elevator, Liam instinctively pressing both your floor numbers. The elevator dinged opening to your floor, Liam turning to you with a cheeky smile.

“See you around, Y/n,” he winked. Why did you find that so attractive, or maybe it’s just because you were slightly drunk.

“Goodnight Liam,” you smirked back, blowing him a kiss as you walked out the elevator, the doors closing behind you.

You couldn’t help but smile like an idiot as you unlocked your flat and stumbled into your room, immediately collapsing on your bed. London. It was definitely going to be an adventure.

——

You were woken up the next day by the sun peaking through your window. You yawned and let out a big stretch, still giddy from last night’s date. It’s not like you thought you had just met your soulmate or something, you both kept the evening light, mainly joking and flirting as you downed drinks. But god you couldn’t remember the last time you had that much fun or ended a night feeling so confident and carefree. You were embracing every ounce of the euphoria you were getting from your new life.

You slipped out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, still rubbing the morning crust out of your eyes. Just as you got a pot of coffee going, you heard the distinct sound of a key turning, startling you as you realized it was coming from outside of your flat’s door. You cursed at the fact that you were about to meet a new flatmate while in your flannel pajamas and messy bun hanging halfway off your head, but mainly you were excited to finally have some company.

“Dude it’s no Figure 8 living but fuck it I’ll live anywhere to not have my parents breathing down my neck these next few months,” you heard a voice say, now in the hallway of your flat.

You immediately freeze. That was a male voice, definitely a male. Of course it makes sense now that you think of it, everyone in the flat gets their own room so what does it matter if the flat is co-ed. The thought just hadn’t crossed your mind, you automatically assumed you’d be living with all girls.

“Yeah man, anywhere that’s 1,000 miles away from Ward sounds like the perfect place to me,” another male voice laughed in return. Ward? Ward Cameron? That couldn’t possibly be who the voice was referring to because that would mean you were living with- and before you could even finish your thought you were standing jaw slightly parted staring at Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton  in front of you. Two of the most popular guys at school.

You weren’t really friends but your families knew each other so you inevitably saw one another at kook events every now and then. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by them. You always told yourself you didn’t care about boys like Rafe and Topper or about fitting in with their crowd, yet you always became nervous in their presence.  They were cool. They partied a lot, were athletes, and had girls tripping over them, which you couldn’t fault considering anyone with eyes could tell they were attractive, but you’d never have the confidence to be so bold with guys like that. Unless you were drunk of course. And unless you were the new confident and carefree version of yourself that you had been on your date last night with Liam.

“Yo Y/n, no fucking way, I didn’t know we’d get to live with girl,” Topper smiled at you with a teasing grin.

You were suddenly acutely aware of how disheveled you look and how you weren’t wearing a bra under your thin pajama top.

“Uh hey w-what are you guys doing here,” you managed to choke out. That confident girl from last night had disappeared as quickly as she had arrived, leaving you now feeling winded in front of the two boys from your hometown. Why were you getting so flustered?

“Just on a little exchange program from Kildare, maybe you’ve heard of it,” teased Rafe sarcastically, a smile tugging at his lips, holding back a laugh at how caught off guard you looked.

“Yeah no yeah of course,” you stuttered, “I guess I just wasn’t expecting you two to want to sign up for it.”

That’s when you realized the obvious. Every year there was always a number of spots reserved on the exchange for athletes, and Rafe and Topper were two of Kildare’s star soccer players.

“What and get to miss an opportunity to play at Westheath and go to Premier League games all semester? No shot,” laughed Topper.

“Maybe you should’ve gone to orientation after all, roomie,” joked Rafe as he picked up his bag following Topper down the hall to their rooms. Rafe Cameron noticed I didn’t go to orientation?

You let your face fall in your hands with a groan only audible to you. You quickly picked up your head and shook yourself off, pouring yourself a cup of coffee as you tried to ground yourself from your frazzled state. Looks like escaping OBX was going to be harder than you thought.

---

Part 2

[tracybirds]

Paper Dreams

John receives a prestigious invite and he’s not sure how to respond.

Many thanks to @gumnut-logic for the encouragement because I am nerves!!

*                      *                      *

The crisp white envelope was heavy in his hands as he hurried from the room. Paper was a formality, a mark of distinction that would surely draw his brothers’ unwanted attention. Letters didn’t just arrive unannounced in this era of high-speed data connections and quantum supercomputers. In fact, they didn’t arrive at all.

So, John was more than a little apprehensive when Grandma Tracy silently handed him the sealed envelope and walked away.

It took only a few short minutes to read through the contents and he sat back against the window in his room, the words whirling in his mind.

Mars Colonisation Project. Distinguished candidate. Invited to apply.

An opportunity of a lifetime.

A way to prove for once and for all that he was more than his father’s famous name.

John clutched at the letter, the paper crinkling in his grasp. He mouthed the words as he read them, over and over.

He looked up at the sound of a loud yell calling his name, hurriedly shoving the letter into the envelope and dropping it at his side. Snatching up a nearby tablet, his flushed ears were the only hint of the letter that remained when Gordon shoved open the door.

“John, dinner, hurry up.”

His brother tore out of the room before he could respond.

*                      *                      *

John slipped into his seat, mouthing an apology to Grandma Tracy as he did.

“Finally!” cried Alan. He wriggled back in his seat, staring hopefully at the food. “Grandma said we had to wait for you, you took forever!”

“Is Dad not eating?” asked Virgil. “I heard him come in.”

“He’s taking it in the study tonight,” said Grandma Tracy, shaking her head slightly. “Brains dropped by and they’re holing up together on that project of theirs.”

John glanced over at the conspicuously empty seat at the head of table. They all knew what ‘that project’ meant.

In the heady rush of excitement, he’d all but forgotten the silent expectation that accompanied his studies and extra-curriculars for the past five years. A pet project alone wouldn’t have been enough to deter him from his own ambitions, but the Thunderbirds, they offered something different, something more than the office politics of academia, squabbling over research grants.

He’d never known anything that could compete.

Until now.

“Hey,” said Virgil in a low tone, nudging him from his thoughts. “You okay?”

John pulled himself back into the present with a slight grimace.

“Fine. Just thinking about an assignment.”

Virgil nodded slowly, looking him up and down with a critical eye.

“Are you going to eat anything, or just push it around?”

John automatically lifted his fork, blinking as the peas fell back to the plate and landed in a pile of mushy, grey potatoes.

“Actually, I’m not that hungry.”

“Can I have yours?” asked Alan, already reaching over to grab at his plate.

“Not hungry, John?” asked Grandma Tracy. “You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

She examined the pinched look in his face and the nervous twist of one hand inside the other.

“No,” said John, wishing he hadn’t said anything. The last thing he wanted was any level of scrutiny. “I’m fine, Grandma, honest.”

He let Alan scrape his leftovers from his plate, realising with a pang than he’d had another growth spurt over the previous semester at his boarding school.

If he left for Mars, he’d return to a brother he’d hardly recognise.

Colonisation was a long-term project, the result of years in planning and decades of dreams. Countless people would put their life’s work into its development and they had every right to expect the same of their astronauts. The application process alone was heavily involved and would severely limit time with his family, to say nothing of the many years ahead for him on Mars if he made it all the way into space. He’d be travelling millions of miles from home, only to find himself living with a group of strangers that he couldn’t escape without logging an external environment report.

He didn’t even like sharing a bathroom at the university housing that much.

Still the piece of paper called to him.

“Can I be excused?”

Grandma Tracy nodded and he hurried from the room, not noticing her troubled look.

The warmth of the room followed him into the hallway and he shut the door firmly behind him. He thrust his hand into his pocket, searching for the reassuring touch of cool paper.

It was real.

It was real and if he let the opportunity pass by, he might regret it for the rest of his life.

Or he might be wasting his time, pinning his hopes on something that would only serve to distract him in the long run. He could only imagine what Scott would say, who’d never once taken his eye off a prize once he’d decided to aim for it.

He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what he wanted, and found himself climbing into the cramped space under the roof that had generously called a playroom, then a study, then an attic.

He blinked as the bare bulb overhead lit the small room, filling it with old memories and dust.

His first telescope was still standing in the corner, pointing high in the sky and he lifted the edge of his T-shirt to wipe the dust away. Surrounding it, lay stacks of books that his mom had picked up from the local thrift store, that Mrs Delaney, the owner, put them aside just for him.

John walked carefully among them, tugging the small window open and staring out into the night. The stars shone bright in the clear, crisp air.

Crouching down, he peered through the eye piece, adjusting the focus with a practiced hand. The little reflector was nothing like the giant telescopes available at the college department, and he had to hold his breath to stop the stand from wobbling. But the universe was still out there, the same as it was when he was a kid, still holding an infinite number of mysteries despite the years he had spent uncovering the rules that held it together.

He looked up, eyes darting through the familiar patterns, searching for the anomaly he knew was wandering between Gemini and Taurus.

And there it was.

Mars.

A planet with so much to offer the world they lived on. Where he could work with a team of people who loved space just like him, where he could devote his life to researching astronomy from a new perspective and developing technology for interplanetary life for generations to come.

Where he could leave his mark alongside all the heroes of his childhood. Alongside his dad.

“After all, why shouldn’t I go?” he said, scowling up at Mars.

“Go where?”

John spun around with a start.

“Kayo! When did you get in?”

She shrugged, propping up her head with her hand.

“Long enough to see you come up here,” she said. “I waited for you, but then Mrs Tracy said you hadn’t eaten. Figured something was wrong.”

She looked him up and down with a piercing eye. John tried not to squirm. He’d always felt Kayo had something of a sixth sense when it came to knowing things that should have been a secret.

“Seems like I was right,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Then where are you planning on going?”

“Nowhere. I don’t think, that is…”

He flopped down and tilted his head back with a huff.

“Not right now, at any rate.”

Kayo pulled herself up onto the floor and drew the ladder upwards.

Neither spoke as the trapdoor shut with a small ‘click’.

The dust swirled in the air, dancing in the shafts of light above them.

“Is it a graduate program?”

“No.”

“An international program?”

“No.”

“A long-term space colonisation program for specially selected candidates who have already proven themselves in the fields of communications, astrophysics and astrotechnology?”

John stared at her.

She shrugged.

“It’s my job to know.”

“So, why even ask?”

“I’m trying to get you to lower your guard.”

She smiled at the dumbfounded look on his face.

“You’ve met Brains, right? He’s got some server tracker that flags your name. They asked your advisor for academic and personal references months ago.”

“Oh God,” said John, dropping his head in his ands and staring wildly at the floor. “Does Dad already know?”

Kayo shook her head.

“Dad and I do. Security details and all. But we don’t tell him that kind of stuff, you know, he’s not spying on you.”

“You’re right, that’s a real comfort,” said John, drily.

Kayo tossed her head.

“I’m just saying.”

Her eyes softened as she watched him draw his knees close to his chest.

“He doesn’t know.” She hesitated, still watching him. “Would it be all that bad if he did though?”

John huffed a little, still staring at his knees.

“International Rescue’s all we’ve ever talked about,” he said. “I didn’t think there’d be anything else I wanted. What if I let him down?”

“He’s already proud of you, John.”

“But we’ve been working towards it for so long now. This would change everything. Delay the full scope of the project for months, or years even.”

Kayo snorted.

“You really think Jeff Tracy, resident billionaire and with access to the best tech in the world, wouldn’t be able to find another genius astrotechnician and communication expert?”

John shot her a withering look.

“Okay, so maybe he’d have to find two super geniuses.”

She easily dodged the picture book he threw in her direction.

“Leave off,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Kayo spotted the slight smile though, and grinned broadly in return.

“Can I?” she asked, nodding at the space between him and the wall.

John nodded and shuffled over as best he could, trying not to topple the book stacks around them.

Kayo wriggled into the gap, and John paid her no mind.

He hadn’t thought of who would take his place because, of course, someone must. He’d been preparing for an International Rescue without him, one where his family diverted communications for a few years and focused their efforts on establishing themselves on land and sea until Alan stepped into his role on Thunderbird Five.

He hadn’t imagined an International Rescue where he wasn’t even needed.

Kayo seemed to sense the turn in his thoughts, nudging him gently to pull him from them.

“He wouldn’t trust them half as much as you, you know.”

John shrugged.

“I don’t want to disappoint him,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “But I don’t want that to be the only reason I don’t go.”

He took a deep breath, and glanced back up at the slowly setting planet.

“And I want to go,” he admitted. “I do. I need to tell him.”

Kayo nodded, a sad look in her eyes. They sat in silence together, lost in their own thoughts. The bustle of the house downstairs filtered upwards. Muffled bangs and indistinct shouts of Gordon and Alan playing some ridiculous game, loud music from Virgil’s room – the kind he put on to drown out any interruption to his painting. Grandma Tracy seemed to be having some kind of one-sided conversation with herself, until John remembered, with a pang, that it was Saturday morning out in Guam and she was likely speaking to Scott at that very moment.

Kayo sighed and dropped her head on John’s shoulder.

“I’d miss you though.”

John swallowed carefully past the sudden lump in his throat.

“I’d miss you too.”

*                      *                      *

John was too old to be summoned to his father’s study, but somehow deliberately interrupting him felt worse. Nausea sat like a rock in his stomach, his voice box left in tatters as he knocked on the solid oak door.

“Who is it?”

He couldn’t reply.

His eyes flitted across the family photos that littered the hallway, landing finally on the image of his father and crewmates waving to the masses as they entered the Herschel-VI.

The photograph didn’t show the way his father was blind to the crowd, his farewell only for the woman who stood half a mile from the launchpad, proud, so proud, and sick with worry too. She held tight to her eldest son with one hand, and rested her other on the stroller she was rocking back and forth. She didn’t see the way he had wriggled out of his restraints nor how he was preparing to drop to the ground and run away, already intent on chasing after his father at three years old.

Jeff Tracy, first man on Mars, opened the door with a frown and a touch of impatience, and John knew there would be no escape this time.

“John.”

“Dad.”

His throat closed around his words and his hand closed around the letter in a fist.

Jeff looked down at the sound, and looked back at John, an assessing look in his eye. He stepped back wordlessly and John entered the severe room.

“What’s happened, son?” he asked, holding his hand out for the letter.

He smoothed down the crumpled edges as he read, his eyes leaping from phrase to phrase on the page.

“Well, it seems congratulations are in order. I assume you intend to accept?”

The knot in John’s chest loosened and he collapsed into the chair opposite Jeff.

“I intend to apply,” he corrected, staring down at the desk between them.

“John, they don’t reach out like this unless they want you onboard. They intend you to be on that shuttle, regardless of the formalities the bureaucrats put in place.”

“Yeah.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the blueprints, Brains’ small, neat handwriting annotating each design and his father’s looping comments scrawled liberally across them.

Jeff followed his line of sight and smiled.

“Five won’t be operational for a few more years, you know that. Don’t let her be what holds you back.”

“But this was always it, this is why I’m getting space rated. And the satellite network still needs to be launched, and the orbital mechanics calculated.”

“An opportunity like this doesn’t come your way twice, son.”

John stopped.

“You think I should accept. If they say yes.”

“Don’t you?”

There it was. His father’s blessing laid out in front of him, just waiting to be taken up like a pennant.

Everything they’d worked for, everything they’d sacrificed, gone. In its place, a single shining achievement, a global community on their sister planet. The first of its kind.

It had been a long time since John had allowed himself to dream his own dreams.

“Alright,” he said, a giddy rush spinning his head so that he hardly knew what he was saying. “I’m gonna do it.”

[valdomarx]

Number Theory

On another version of Atlantis, John is a mathematician who is better with numbers than with people. But he's going to have to learn to get on with his team and their bossy leader, Rod, if he wants to survive here.

Stargate Atlantis, McShep, mensa!verse, 9k, rated E.

Also on AO3.

Dr. John Sheppard straightens his glasses, pulls his lab coat around himself, and makes one final, futile attempt to tame his hair.

He takes a last look around the SGC, bustling with scientists and marines and boxes of supplies, and wonders how everybody seems to know their place and what to do already.

Then he steps through a wormhole and into another galaxy.

-

Atlantis is stunning. Terrifying, and dangerous, and liable to kill them all, but stunning all the same.

-

He protests that there’s no need for a mathematician on an offworld team, but the head of science insists. John sourly suspects this Rod guy enjoys watching him wheeze and stumble every time they have to run for their damn lives.

But it turns out it’s useful for a field team to have someone around who can crack codes and work computers. And John hates field work less than he expected to, despite the unpredictability and the peril and all that awful running.

Sometimes, like when he breaks the encryption on a Wraith code in the nick of time and diverts an enemy ship away from its path toward Atlantis, he even feels a tiny bit like a hero.

-

Other than his team duties, though, Atlantis isn’t that much different from Caltech or MIT or the Air Force base at Wright-Patterson, or any of the other places he’s worked.

Everyone knows each other, except for him. Everyone bands together to look out for each other, and he stares in from the outside. Eating in the mess hall is like being catapulted back to high school.

So he makes himself at home in his lab. It’s quiet there, and there’s a plentiful supply of coffee, and there are only a couple of other mathematicians who occasionally pass through and largely leave him alone.

They’re next door to the noisy, boisterous science labs, where all the cool civilians hang out. But that’s fine. He gets used to ignoring them the same way he ignores the marines.

It’s just him and his numbers.

And sometimes, inexplicably, Rod or Teyla or Ronon, who will come by and sit at his desk and drink his coffee. He never understands what they’re hoping to achieve, but he doesn’t mind as long as they don’t touch anything.

-

Teyla appears in the doorway, staring at his whiteboard. It’s covered top to bottom with equations, and he’s had to stick up bits of paper around the walls to fit more on.

“Rod requested that I see how your work is going,” she says, voice giving nothing away.

He grits his teeth against the annoyance of the interruption. “It would be going faster if I could work unimpeded.”

She ignores the petulant note in his voice, squinting closer at the whiteboard. “What is this?”

“This is number theory. It’s the underlying basis for mathematics.”

Teyla raises an eyebrow. “And this is different from what Rod does?”

He sneers. “Very different. That’s just theoretical physics.”

“You do not respect Rod’s chosen field?” She seems genuinely curious.

“It’s fine, for, you know,” his lip curls, “an applied science.”

“I see. So this work can help us locate Wraith hive ships?”

He shifts his weight. “Well. I might need to, uhh, collaborate with Rod on that. I provide the conceptual models and he does the,” he waves dismissively, “practical calculations.”

“It seems that you two accomplish more when you work together.”

He scoffs. “I wouldn’t go that far. But he’s useful as an assistant, I suppose.”

-

When they learn there are three Wraith hive ships on their way to destroy the city, there isn’t much time for personal conflicts. They have a long-shot strategy: They’ve sent an emergency distress message in the vague hopes of rescue from Earth. But the Wraith ships are almost here and they need a plan now.

“Use the jumpers,” John suggests, because it’s obvious.

Rod snaps his fingers. “Yes! Put a nuclear warhead on board, fly the jumper right down the hives’ throats, and detonate.”

Elizabeth blanches. “That’s a suicide run.”

“No, no.” John thinks out loud. “Not if we can remote pilot the jumper.”

“Using the control chair!” Rod chimes in. “Sheppard, you’re a genius.”

John is so focused on the threat he forgets to preen over that.

It doesn’t take long for them to hook up the jumper to the chair and start running tests. Just as well, because death from above is coming imminently.

He knows something is wrong the moment Rod’s face falls while he’s poking at the cables running to the chair.

“McKay...” he says, voice low but insistent.

“I know! I know. Just give me a minute.” Rod disappears back into a bundle of cables. “I can fix this.”

Everything is suddenly, startlingly clear. The remote control won’t work, at least not in time. Someone will have to fly the jumper personally.

He and Rod both have the ATA gene, and both the same dubious piloting skills. But there’s not much skill required in flying directly into a hive, is there?

One of them has to do this.

“So long, Rod.” He turns and runs from the chair room to the jumper bay, not bothering to notify anyone of his plans.

“Sheppard! Sheppard!”

He hears Rod yell after him but he can’t think about that now. He has a job to do.

-

He gets beamed out by the Daedalus at the last moment. The battle is ugly, but the city and the expedition makes it out mostly intact.

Afterwards, Rod drags him into a conference room and yells at him for an hour about his reckless behavior.

John couldn’t give a shit. He has no regrets about his actions.

He gives an insouciant shrug. “Why the earful? It worked, didn’t it?”

“Because I am your team leader, and you didn’t even ask me for permission before nominating yourself for a suicide run!”

“That’s what this is about? Your precious chain of command? Grow up.”

Rod rounds on him and gets up on the balls of his feet. “There are people here who care about you, you dick!”

John blinks at the non sequitur. The idea that anyone would care more about him than about the city and everyone else in it is laughable. “Then they’re idiots,” he snaps and walks out.

Rod can write him up for that in one of the reports he so enjoys filing.

-

It would be nice if he could say that he learns and grows. That he makes friends. That he gets accepted by his peers and makes a home in the Pegasus galaxy.

But that’s not how this story goes. Not yet, anyway.

-

He does manage to make himself useful. He invents a new cryptographic algorithm to keep their computers and communications secure from Wraith interference. Elizabeth even gives him a grateful nod when he presents it to her, and says thank you.

He makes some progress on a quantum chaos approach to the Riemann hypothesis, not that anyone here understands that or how profoundly ingenious his work is.

And it turns out that many of the Ancient systems here are based on binary, just like computers on Earth, so he’s able to help Rod parse some of the more complex code. The two of them spend hours poking through the Ancient operating system, Rod fluttering around and theorizing aloud while John sits quietly in the corner, chewing on a pen and thinking.

It’s more fun than he would have expected.

-

And then, inevitably, he fucks up to a new and truly epic degree. He and Rod find the Ancient’s Project Arcturus, their great hope for extracting vacuum energy from subspace, and he convinces himself he can get it to work.

He’s self-aware enough to know he’s making poor choices, but not mentally strong enough to do otherwise. Because yes, of course virtually unlimited power is tempting, and of course discovering the last great experiment of the Ancients is thrilling. But he's a cautious person. He's not one to take unnecessary risks.

And yet the moment Rod turns to him with that look of delight, saying he's impressed, clapping him on the shoulder like he's done something wonderful, John is just gone. He ignores safety limits and all common sense, and he pushes and pushes and pushes for them to power up the generator, as if his wishes for it to work could make it so.

He wipes out most of a solar system with his hubris, not to mention nearly killing them both, and he's furious down to his bones because he can't figure out why he would have done something so stupid.

-

Bad enough to fail so spectacularly at your work that you devastate an entire star system, worse to have burned whatever credibility you may have built with your team, but worst of all to have to walk every day among people who know all about your inadequacy.

He's in the queue for the mess and a couple of the marines behind him are sniggering, one of them making a not-very-quiet crack about Sheppard’s ego being a weapon of mass destruction. John is staring straight ahead and pretending to ignore them, but the blood is pumping furiously in his ears and he's gripping his tray so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

“You got something to say?” Suddenly Ronon is there, all six-foot-three-million-pounds of him, glaring down at the sniggering marine like he might crush his skull with his bare hands. “If you’ve got something to say to Sheppard, you can say it to me as well.”

The marine backs away, hands held high and spluttering apologies.

Ronon throws an arm around John’s shoulder and walks him to a table so they can sit and eat.

John stares down at his food and wills the panic to subside. “Thanks,” he mutters once his breathing has settled.

“No worries, bud,” Ronon says and steals a piece of carrot off John’s plate. “So, how’s that bomb design you were working on coming along? You know I love a big boom.”

John tells him how his models have predicted the highly energetic variety of naquadah they’ve discovered could be harnessed into more efficient field explosives, and Ronon nods along as if this is all fascinating.

In that moment, John knows he would die for this man without hesitation.

-

Perhaps the worst part about the Arcturus incident is how unbearably nice Rod is about the whole thing. He tells John that it was both of their decision, that he doesn't blame him, that sometimes these things happen when dealing with advanced technology.

But John can see the disappointment in his eyes and hear the judgement in his voice. He gets a sick, twisting feeling in his stomach when he thinks about it, and that must be Rod's fault.

Rod picks a bad time to come visit the lab.

"Sheppard," Rod leans against the door frame. "I need your report on the Arcturus mission."

The sick feeling in his gut deepens. He hasn't written the report yet. "Bet you’re enjoying making me catalogue my failures."

"What? No. I just need you to submit a report so I can turn it over to Elizabeth."

"I see. You're looking for someone to blame, right? Going to write about how I pushed you and it's all my fault?"

"Of course not," Rod steps closer and there isn't enough air in the room. "I wouldn't do that. What's going on with you?"

He can't bear the look of concern on Rod's face, which he surely doesn't deserve and will surely evaporate soon enough. "Maybe I've had enough of you reminding me of my screw ups via the excuse of paperwork."

Rod's voice sharpens. "Don't blame me because you're feeling guilty. I can't deal with that for you."

The reminder of his lacking emotional skills stings and he lashes out. "Don't try to therapize me. You're hardly in the position to be doling out life advice." It's a mean, petty thing to say, but he's feeling vindictive.

Rod's eyes narrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

John's pulse is notching up and his face is getting hot, the last of his short temper fraying away.

“You’re a people pleaser, Rod!” He realizes he’s yelling. He doesn’t care. “Everything you do is to make other people like you.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Rod puffs up. “I try to be a decent human being. I try to think about others and support them. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s fake! It’s all bullshit. Do you even have a personality of your own, or do you just reflect whatever the last person who smiled at you wants?”

Finally, the cracks in the facade of nice begin to show. “Making an effort to treat those around you with consideration isn’t demeaning!” He gets up in John’s face, waving a finger at him. “Not that you’d know, because you never consider anyone other than yourself.”

“At least I’m honest,” he spits, and it’s venomous. “At least I know who I am. Do you? Do you have any idea who you’d be if you weren’t so absorbed in distracting everyone from your flaws?”

He sees the barb hit its mark. Rod stumbles back like he’s been physically shoved, his face crumpling.

“God, you’re an asshole.” It’s not even angry. It’s small, and quiet, and John is suddenly acutely aware of how much taller he is than Rod, how much he towers over him.

Rod turns on his heel and walks away, and John knows that means he’s won. But he doesn’t feel the usual curl of smug satisfaction he gets when he puts someone in their place.

Instead, he just feels empty.

-

Whatever. It’s not his problem that Rod is having some kind of breakdown. Why should he care that Rod is skulking around the base looking small and miserable? He only said what they both know to be true.

If Rod wants to be a dick about it, that’s on him. If he’s going to remove John from the team, that’s fine. There’s nothing that John can do about it anyway.

He gets back to work, running simulations of ZPM power levels and how long they can expect to sustain the city under different circumstances, given that they won’t be enjoying unlimited power any time soon. He likes modelling, and he knows this work is important.

But for some reason he can’t focus. His gut keeps churning and his temples ache and he’s haunted by the word worthless, worthless, worthless.

-

When his lab door chimes at well past midnight, he’s ready to tell whoever it is to fuck right off. In fact, the excuse to yell at someone sounds great right now.

But when he opens the door to find Rod standing there, twisting his hands anxiously, he’s too shocked to even be snitty. He’d assumed that Rod and he were done, that it was only a matter of time before he was kicked off the team.

But here Rod is, mouth downturned and saying, “You were right, okay?”

John notes the sad wobble of Rod’s chin and bites back the urge to say something dismissive. “About what?”

“About me. I do try to please everyone. I do want everyone to like me.”

It sounds pathetic, said out loud like that, John thinks but doesn’t say.

Rod is still going. “But it’s not what you think. It’s not some ego trip. When I was younger, I used to be -” He lets out a huff of air. “- very different. I said whatever I wanted to whoever I wanted, and I didn’t care if everyone hated me for it.”

John tries to imagine an angry, mean Rod. His brain can’t picture it.

“I pushed people away because I was afraid they’d reject me. I was always alone and I got very good at telling myself I liked it that way.”

An uncomfortable feeling of familiarity crawls up the back of John’s spine, and he ruthlessly quashes it.

“That changed when I went to the SGC. The people there… They believed in me. They wanted my help, and they wanted to help me. I learned that if I was going to work there, to do important work, then I was going to need connections. And to make connections, I had to think about others, and try to be what they needed. It wasn’t only about me any more.”

Something in the preachy tone of Rod’s voice sets John on the defensive, and his shoulders begin to rise, counterarguments springing to his lips.

“Wait, stop -” Rod lays a hand on his shoulder, and all the aggression leeches out of him. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’m just trying to explain.”

The earnest look Rod is giving him makes his skin itch.

“I care about everyone here. Including you, John. Perhaps I try too hard sometimes, but that’s only because you all matter to me. I don’t want to let you down.”

Rod is talking in plurals, but John gets the impression he’s speaking to him personally. It’s too weighty, to be handed that kind of sincerity without warning.

“I do...” He coughs and looks at his feet, “I do care about the people here as well. I might not be demonstrative about it but I’m not…” he searches for the right word, “... indifferent.”

He doesn’t say the other words he’s thinking, which are cold, callous, heartless, the things people always call him.

Rod’s hand is still on his shoulder, heavy and warm, and he squeezes gently. “I know you do. I just wish that sometimes you’d let other people see that too.”

-

John tries. He really does. Ronon tells him that he needs to get out of the lab more, so he resolves to make time to socialize. He doesn’t really know how to do that, but Teyla quietly slides him a copy of the city’s social activity schedule and suggests he goes through the list.

Painting with Major Lorne - no.

Choir with the medical staff - sounds awful.

Extra combat training - absolutely not.

Mensa club - now there’s a possibility.

“Join us for FUN and FRIENDS,” the tiny advert reads. “All welcome (as long as your IQ is over 150).”

That he can do. He joins the club.

It's him and Kusanagi from R&D and Parrish from botany, plus a couple of the gate techs and one of the nurses from medical. Every Thursday night, they get together to solve puzzles and play chess. It's dorky and awkward but it's kind of nice, actually, and the people there don't seem to dislike him.

He thinks maybe he's getting better at this whole people thing.

-

And then Rod leaves, and everything goes to shit.

It starts off with a crisis, like there always is around here, exotic particles exploding out of a containment chamber which isn’t containing anything. There’s chaos, but there’s also data, so it doesn’t take long before he and Rod are turning to each other as the explanation clicks for both of them at the same time: An experiment to generate vacuum energy being conducted in a parallel universe.

“We can’t do anything from this side,” John reasons. “The bridge is one-way.”

“The inhabitants of the other universe might not even know what the effects here are. We need to go there directly and get them to shut it down,” Rod says, firm and sure. “It’s the only way.”

“But how could we-”

Rod snaps his fingers. “The Ancient shield. That’ll protect whoever travels there.”

“Right. Let me run some calculations.”

His head is buried in his computer when Rod comes running back in with the shield in his hand.

“Fire it up whenever you’re ready,” Rod orders. “I’ve got the shield to protect me.”

John’s head whips up. “You? You’re going?”

“Of course me! Come on, the chance to visit an alternate reality? Who could resist that?”

Icy cold water settles at the pit of John’s stomach. “That’s a one-way trip.”

Rod shrugs, like that’s nothing. “If that’s the cost to save our universe, it’ll be worth it.”

Something like rage explodes inside John’s head. “Absolutely not! I should be the one to go.” He searches desperately for a reason. “You’re needed here.”

Rod gives him a small, sad smile and says, “So are you.”

“That’s bullshit, McKay, and you know it. I’m not letting you do this.”

“Tell you what, let’s flip a coin for it.”

And that’s about as reasonable as he can hope for, so he turns his back to dig a coin out of his lab coat pocket.

That turns out to be a mistake.

“Be safe, John,” Rod says, then he activates the shield and steps into the containment chamber.

That bastard.

-

He spends three days thinking that Rod is gone for good.

He can’t… He can’t think, and he can’t sleep, and he’s angry all the time. When Zelenka asks for his help running calculations on the spacetime tear above the city John bellows at him, calls him incompetent, and says they might as well just accept that the city is going to be torn apart. Then he stays up all night doing the calculations anyway, because it’s better than lying in bed and staring at the ceiling for another interminable evening.

He doesn’t bother eating, or showering, because what’s the point if they’re all going to die within a week? There’s a restless, raging scratching under his skin and it’s not like he hasn’t faced the possibility of death before, but this feels bleak and empty and insurmountable in a way he simply can’t deal with.

And then the rift mends itself, and Rod returns on a beam of light, and everyone acts as if they’re back to normal now and that brush with annihilation was just one of those quirky things that happen in the Pegasus galaxy.

But it eats at John, that feeling of powerlessness, that rippling anger of a problem he couldn’t solve.

Rod slides back into life in the city like it was nothing but another mission, and everyone rushes to say how brave he was, what a hero, how selfless he is, and John’s blood boils.

Rod swings by John’s lab with his usual breezy demeanor.

“Hey Sheppard! Wanna grab some dinner?”

The incongruity of Rod in his doorway, smiling casually like this is just another Tuesday, sends something hot and sharp spiking through his brain. “No,” John snarls. “Busy.”

“Okay. How about tomorrow?”

“Busy then too.”

Rod gives a self-deprecating little smile, and John wants to wipe it off his face. “Too busy to make an hour for your team?”

“A team?” he spits. “Is that what we are?”

Rod pales, finally taking in how furious John is. “Of course we are. I thought, since I’m back now, we could -”

“Oh, so you stride back in and decide to grace us with your presence, and we’re supposed to be thankful for that?”

“John, what -”

“You left!” he explodes. He’s shocked by his own vehemence. “You left us all. You weren’t planning to come back and you just left.”

Rod takes half a step forward, his face doing something complicated. “John, listen. I never wanted to-”

“Go fuck yourself!” He shoves at Rod’s shoulders, hard enough to keep him at a distance. He needs space; he needs quiet; this is all too much. “We don’t want you here anyway. You should have stayed in that other dimension. I’m sure it was great there.”

“That’s not-”

“Shut up, McKay.” He tunes his voice to the iciest, most dismissive tone he has. “You should have stayed gone.”

He enjoys a mean spark of satisfaction at the way Rod’s face falls, then he storms out of the lab.

Fuck that guy anyway.

-

Everyone on the base keeps looking at John like he’s volatile, as if he’s about to blow at any minute. Even his team starts handling him with kid gloves, like he’s fragile, and he hates it so much he could scream.

He meticulously constructs the bubble of hostility which has long been his go-to when he needs people to leave him alone. He snaps and snarls, and perfects a glare so hostile that no one dares approach him.

It’s restrictive inside that bubble, but at least it’s stable. At least he gets to decide the reason why people are going to hate him.

-

A few days later, Teyla strides into his lab wearing her patented “take no shit” expression.

“John,” she says, and the false cheery brightness of her tone has him scared already. “You will join me for tea.”

This is not, he recognizes, a request. He begins to mumble excuses but she cuts him off without hesitation. “You will come to my quarters, and we will drink a mug of tea together.” She crosses her arms. “Now.”

There are battles you can win, and ones you cannot. This is most certainly the latter, so he meekly follows her as she sweeps out of the lab and back to her quarters.

Once inside, Teyla forces him into a chair with an excessively firm hand.

“Sit,” she orders.

It’s easier to do as she says.

She carefully prepares the tea and warms the earthenware mugs, strong hands making practiced, confident movements. John watches the motions as she pours the tea and slides a mug over to him.

“Drink,” she orders, and again it’s easier to obey.

The tea is soapy and bland, but he fears her retribution enough not to mention that. He sips as they sit in silence. She regards him heavily over her mug.

Eventually she reaches some kind of conclusion.

“You are a valued member of our team, John.” Her face is impassive but her words are warm. “We would not see harm come to you.”

“That’s. Uhh. Good.”

“But your behavior of late has been,” she narrows her eyes, “ill-advised.”

John opens his mouth to defend himself, because it’s not as if Teyla could understand what’s been going on. But she holds up a hand which stops him short.

“I do not care to listen to your justifications. But you should know that if you continue on the path you have been on, it will be to the detriment of us all.”

John feels like he’s been pulled into the principal’s office to be scolded like a schoolboy. He didn’t care for that shit when he was ten, and he certainly doesn’t care for it now.

“If that was all,” he pushes the mug away and gets to his feet, “I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait.” Teyla’s hand shoots out with a warrior’s accuracy and closes around his wrist. “I am concerned for the team, yes. But I am also concerned for you. I would like to think that we are…” she tilts her head, “friends. And I should like for you to be happy.”

John is embarrassed to find a lump forming in his throat. He’s never truly had a friend before, and that someone of Teyla’s stature and courage would consider him as such has him flabbergasted. He suddenly wants, very badly, for her to think well of him.

“I’ll try harder,” he says. “I’ll try to be better.”

She releases his wrist and gives him a generous smile.

“That is all any of us can do.”

-

He starts small.

He saves up a few of the precious Earth-imported cookies they get for dessert in the mess sometimes and brings them to the next Mensa club night. Kusanagi beams and says that was very thoughtful of him, and Parrish splits a chocolate chip cookie with him while they speed-solve sudokus.

The next day he types up a report about the team’s most recent mission with as much detail as he can remember, and he makes special note of how brave Rod and Teyla and Ronon were.

He saves it to a flash drive and takes it to Elizabeth himself.

“What’s this?” she asks as he hands it over.

“Mission report,” John says, eyes fixed on a tapestry hanging behind her desk.

“Submitting a report without having to be asked five times first? Who are you and what have you done with Dr. Sheppard?”

Anger flashes for a moment, because he’s trying here and she doesn’t need to remind him of his past failings. But he looks down and sees she’s smiling. It’s a joke. She’s joking around with him.

Huh. Okay. That’s unfamiliar, but he doesn’t hate it.

“Maybe I’ve slipped in from an alternate dimension,” he says, and even though that’s not very funny Elizabeth laughs anyway, and that makes something glow inside him.

-

He grudgingly admits to himself that there does seem to be a pattern developing: when he makes an effort to connect with people here and, god help him, be nice to them, then they are happy and so is he. When he yells and pushes people away, they are sad and he is angry.

It’s sort of obvious, really, and he would be embarrassed that it’s taken him so long to figure that out, but humans are bizarre and complicated and not at all like numbers.

He has a hypothesis and now he needs to test it. He should try being more considerate to those closest to him and see if that improves everyone’s moods. If only he could figure out how to do that without the entire experience being mortifying.

He’ll work on Ronon first, he determines. Ronon has always looked out for him and they have a sort of unspoken bond. Finding something nice to do for him should be simple enough.

He decides on a data-driven approach. He takes to following Ronon around, looking for inspiration, trotting after him with a small notebook in hand to record his observations. Ronon finds the whole thing hilarious.

Ronon spends approximately 40% of his free time in the gym, which certainly is a lot, and a further 30% in the mess. Another 10% of the time he goes running around the city, and the remainder of his time is spent visiting with Teyla, stopping by the science labs to tease Rod, or visiting John.

“You like people,” John observes one day, when Ronon is warming up for a combat session with some of the marines. He’s added up the figures and plotted the data into neat hand-drawn scatter plots and histograms. “You spend almost all of your time around other people.”

Ronon’s lips tighten for a second, and then he relaxes. “Yeah, I do. For a long time it wasn’t safe for me to be around anyone, and I hated it.” He looks around the bustling gym and nods. “Now I don’t have to be alone any more. I’ll never fail to appreciate that.”

John squints and scribbles that down in his notebook too. “You like spending time with people even if they’re -” He glances over at the marines, loud and bossy and distastefully laddish, “- strange? Or mean?”

Ronon grins at him. “Even then, yeah.”

“But you go running on your own. Is that what you prefer?”

Ronon stiffens slightly. “No. It reminds me of running from the Wraith. But it’s important to stay fit, and no one here likes running with me.”

Ahah! The perfect opportunity. John bounces on the balls of his feet. “I’ll go with you.”

“What, seriously?”

“Sure. It sounds fun.”

-

It is not fun. Running is brutal, and he is terrible at it, but Ronon smiles the whole time and he keeps telling John what a great job he’s doing.

By the time they’ve completed one lap of the route, sweat is pouring off John and his lungs are fit to burst.

“Go get some rest,” Ronon says, slapping him on the back hard enough to make him stumble. “I’m going to do another couple of laps.”

“Same time tomorrow?” he asks between heaving breaths.

“You really want to do this again?”

“You run every day, right? So I will too.”

Ronon stops for a moment, then hauls John into a giant bear hug, apparently not caring that he’s sweaty and gross, and says, “Thanks, man.”

John is a little awed by how easily he expresses his approval, and how much it means to be on the receiving end of it.

-

He’s noticed on trade missions that the Athosians greatly value textiles, which they weave from plant fibers and dye bright colors. On his next trip to the mainland he slips away to ask the village elder Charin about the rugs which are spread throughout her tent.

She seems surprised by his interest but happy to show off her collection. She tells him how Athosians give rugs as gifts to celebrate relationships and achievements, and then she shows him how they're made.

He trades a whole month's worth of credits for supplies, and when he returns to Atlantis he spends hours each evening delicately weaving yarn through a wooden frame, building up a soft, textured rug. When it's done it's a little lumpy, but it has four clear bands of bright color running through it to represent their team.

He carries the rug to Teyla's quarters and fidgets outside her door.

"John." Teyla squints at him as she opens the door. "You appear nervous."

"I made this for you," he says and thrusts the rug at her. "Charin told me you're supposed to make them for family. This one has stripes for the four of us on the team. Sorry if it's not very good."

Tesla takes the rug and presses a hand to her chest as she examines it. A slow, warm smile spreads across her face.

"It is beautiful. You have my thanks, John. This means more to me than you know."

He has an uncomfortable flutter of emotion and he can't quite meet her eye. He focuses on the wall behind her instead.

"You are as family to me as well," she says, and steps forward to press their foreheads together in the Athosian way.

The frank sentimentality of her manner makes him squirm, but he sort of likes it.

-

Rod is trickier. He is not a person who cares much for stuff, and he always waves off supply runs from Earth, saying he has everything he needs.

But he has been complaining lately that the unstable nature of Lantea's sun has been interfering with some of his measurements. John has an idea that can help with that, even if it does involve working with grubby experimental data.

Once he's ready he invites Rod to join him in the control chair room.

"I did some modeling," he says quickly when Rod arrives. He doesn't bother with a greeting. "To predict solar influence on the Lantea system and help with your experimental readings."

Rod's eyes light up. "You modeled a star for me?"

"I thought it might be," he shrugs one shoulder, trying not to look too anxious about whether Rod will find it weird, "useful."

He plugs a flash drive into a socket on the chair platform and guides Rod into the chair.

"How does it work?" Rod is bouncing with excitement, the same look of delight on his face as when he finds a new piece of technology.

John indulges in a small, proud smile, and says, "Think about where we are in the solar system."

Rod leans back in the chair and its power hums on. Overhead, the holographic display bursts into life showing Lantea and its star, along with all the other planets and comets and asteroids filling the system, with notations on their size and mass and trajectory.

Rod whips the model around, running it backward and forward through time, watching the orbits of the planets dance.

Then Rod zooms in to see the sun up close and gasps. John has linked the model to the city's long range sensors so the display can simulate the star's fluctuations in real time, and as they watch its surface bubbles and releases a tendril of plasma which reaches out into space.

The display follows the plasma as it propagates out through the system, moving first through the asteroid field and then meeting the planet, interacting with the magnetosphere and lighting up the planet's atmosphere with an aurora of dancing colors.

The soft lights of the display are reflected in Rod's eyes, wide and joyful and curious, and the sight makes something like pain but not twist in John's chest.

"This is incredible." Rod pokes further through the interface, looking at zipping comets and distant moons. He sits up and the chair's power fades off. "Thank you."

Heat creeps across John's cheeks, and he busies himself unplugging the drive. "I wanted to do something… nice."

Rod stands and walks over to him, taking the drive from his fingers. But he doesn't let go, keeping hold of his hand. "This is very nice," he says, startlingly close.

And then something very strange happens, and Rod is leaning in and kissing him. John is distracted from the soft press of his lips by absolute bafflement at this turn of events and he freezes up.

Rod steps away and John stares at him, desperately trying to figure out how to respond. "You kissed me," he ends up on, which does have the merit of being true.

Rod rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry. I thought that's what you were going for. Was it not?"

John's brow wrinkles. His thoughts are whipping past at a million miles an hour.

That hadn't been his intention - he'd assumed that Rod was straight, not that he'd given it much thought - not that someone like Rod would be interested in him even if he wasn't - but there's something compelling about the concept, something intangible sitting on the edges of his perception. He can't quite see the shape of it.

"I need more data," he decides. "Kiss me again."

Rod breaks into a charmed smile. "I can do that."

This time when Rod leans in he's ready for it. Their mouths meet carefully, tentatively, and he angles his head so they line up better.

Oh. Interesting. The data is looking positive.

"Hmm." John draws back to breathe and consider. "Yes. That's good. Let's do that some more."

“An excellent plan," Rod says, putting his arms around John's waist to pull him closer and kiss him deeper.

Rod tastes incredible. Or maybe he just tastes of stale coffee and power bars, but John’s senses are so heightened that every sensation feels earth shattering, and he's starving for more. His hands scrabble at Rod’s collar, at his arms, at the hem of his shirt, trying to touch everything in a mad dash. He’s determined to get as much of whatever this is as he can before it comes to a crashing halt.

“Hey. Hey,” Rod’s hands are on top of his own, and he’s pulling away like John knew he would. John folds into himself, ready to turn his back as he listens to this is a mistake or we both know this isn’t going to work out or I’d never feel that way about you.

“If we’re going to do this…” Rod is giving him one of those lopsided smiles, soft and genuine. “I’d like to do it properly.”

John, still braced for rejection, has no idea what that means.

“Let me take you to bed,” Rod says, wobbly and uncertain and hopeful, of all things.

“Oh.” He could do that. They could do that. An ocean of unexpected possibilities opens up, glittering and unfamiliar and enticing. “Okay.”

Rod takes his hand and leads him back to his quarters. John’s palm is sweaty but his steps feel light as air.

-

Kissing Rod is excellent. Doing so while lying on Rod's bed is even better, and at some point they both lose their shirts and then there’s even more skin to explore and the comforting scent of Rod all around him.

It's what's next that's stressing him out, because while he's aware of the theoretical steps involved in sex, he doesn't exactly have practical experience to draw on.

There's the ever-present worry that he's missing something, that there's something he ought to know, like there's a handbook for this which everyone got a copy of except for him.

"You good?" Rod is looking at him with those very, very blue eyes. "You went away there for a minute."

His cheeks are blazing, but it seems important to set expectations. "I've never done this before," he admits.

"You mean with a man?"

He squirms. "With anyone."

He waits for Rod to laugh at him, but he merely looks contemplative. "Were you not interested, or…?"

"It never seemed that important, you know? Just another of those things that everyone else did except for me, like going to parties, or having friends, or spending Christmas with family."

Rod's face softens with sympathy.

"And even if I wanted to sometimes, it didn't matter, because who would want this?" He indicates himself with a disparaging hand. He knows what he looks like: too thin, too lanky, messy hair that will never keep a style. He's no one's ideal. "I'm not even sure why you’d be interested."

"God." Rod reaches for him and takes his face in his hands. "You really have no idea, do you?" Rod carefully removes his glasses, sets them aside, and says, "You're gorgeous," like he really means it.

Taking off his glasses makes John feel more vulnerable than taking off his clothes. Suddenly his shield is gone and there's the world, and Rod, and it's all very close and immediate and a little disorienting.

"Hey." Rod pets his face, soft and gentle, "It's okay. We can go slow."

He makes an effort to pull himself together. "I won't be very good at this."

"You don't have to be good." Rod traces his lips with a finger. "You just have to be you."

And that’s mystifying, frankly. But he’ll give it a go for Rod.

They kiss some more, and he relaxes into it, lets Rod take the lead, lets him explore his mouth until he’s boneless and breathless. He breaks for air and is lightheaded, the room almost spinning, but he wants more.

Then Rod is kissing along his jawline, and down his neck, and oh, when Rod’s lips brush against a spot near his throat his entire body tenses and twitches, and Rod makes a curious, happy noise and does it again. It’s a hair away from overwhelming but he likes it, he likes it a lot, and then Rod gently runs his teeth over that spot and John’s hips twitch off the bed entirely of their own volition.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, but Rod doesn’t look put off. In fact, he just grins, says, “Don’t be, I like it,” then pushes John back onto the bed and mouths at that spot some more.

His skin is hot all over and he’s shaking, and god, this is all going to be over embarrassingly fast and they haven’t even gotten all of their clothes off yet.

“Rod,” he says, and it comes out as a whine. “Will you -” He gestures vaguely at the bulge in the front of his jeans and hides his face in the pillow, too bashful to let Rod see him.

Rod pauses from his engrossment in John’s neck to breathe hot words into his ear instead. “Is that what you want?” he asks, and John is fit to burst already. How is Rod so good at this?

“Please,” he says, mumbling into the pillow. Everything is too much and not enough, and he wants, he wants, he wants. “Please, Rod, please -”

“Okay, of course I will, it’s okay.” Rod strokes his flank, petting him like a skittish horse, and that should be mortifying but it’s exactly what he needs. “I’d like to see you though,” he says, and reaches over to touch John’s chin.

John lets himself be turned, lets Rod roll him over so they’re facing each other and their eyes meet. That’s almost overwhelming too, but Rod looks so pleased he thinks he might be able to manage it, and then Rod is kissing him and unzipping his pants and oh, oh, oh.

Rod wraps a hand around his cock and John just melts, like every brain cell he possesses has decided to pack up for the night. He can't even bring himself to blush because Rod is touching him right there and it’s so good, it’s so good, and all he wants is more.

Rod handles him confidently, exploring what he likes: a bit faster, a bit slower, a bit more pressure, a bit less. If John could speak he’d tell him that it doesn’t matter, right now he likes everything, anything, whatever Rod wants to do to him he’d take it happily.

But Rod is a scientist, and he loves his data just as much as John does, so he does some experimentation and finds the ideal speed John likes, and the angle, and then he squeezes gently around the head and John’s orgasm explodes behind his eyes like bright, white light.

He floats for a while, like a spring that’s been twisted and twisted and finally bursts free, and he’s vaguely aware of Rod stroking his face. It’s nice, every muscle in his body slack and comfortable for once instead of clenched down tight.

“You good?” Rod asks, and John can’t help but smile.

“Very,” he mumbles, mouth lax and lazy.

Rod drops a kiss on his temple, and there’s something so casual and caring about that it makes John’s heart squeeze.

“You mind if I get myself off?” Rod asks and heat races up the back of John’s neck. He does not mind that one bit.

“Should I. Um.” He ought to offer, right? That was the polite thing. But, “I don’t really know what to do,” he admits.

Rod smiles softly at him and says, “How about you kiss me?”

And yes, John is definitely on board with that, he can do that. He puts an arm around Rod’s shoulders and pulls him closer, then kisses him: carefully at first, peppering soft pecks to his lips, and then deeper, lips sliding over each other as they grow more heated, and then finally wild and messy, slipping his tongue into Rod’s mouth while Rod pushes his pants down and works himself over.

He feels Rod’s fist bumping up against his thigh, faster and faster as he speeds up his hand, and John can’t help but glance down. He watches in fascination at the way the head of Rod’s cock peeks through his hand on each stroke, red and hard and leaking from the tip. Reflexively, he licks his lips.

Rod is making these soft groaning noises which have John entranced, like he wants to spend every spare minute he has learning how to coax them out of him. And then Rod is biting his lip, and twitching, and staring at him open-mouthed and breathing hard.

“Can I come on you?” he asks, and something in John’s brain short-circuits.

“Yes,” his mouth says for him. “Rod, god, yes.”

He can’t stop staring at the movement of Rod’s hand and, emboldened by a force he didn’t know he had in him, he reaches down to wrap his hand around Rod’s. He lets Rod guide their movements, adding a soft pressure from his fingers so they can bring him off together.

“John,” Rod sighs, full of warmth and contentment, and then he’s relaxing and coming. Fluid splatters across John’s thighs and he did that, he made Rod feel good, and that feels like the best gift of all.

Rod is soft around the edges now, smudgy like a charcoal painting, and when John asks, “Was that okay?” he pulls him closer and nuzzles into his neck, covering both of their bodies and their clothes hopelessly in come, and says, “That was perfect.”

-

John wakes up sticky, rather too hot, and filled with a roiling, anxious feeling. The bed is too small and Rod is too close, and his heart rate picks up as he looks fuzzily around the room.

He should go. He should just go, right now, before Rod wakes up and they have to talk about this and he says something wrong and ruins everything.

He’s squinting and patting at the bedside table, looking for his glasses, when he feels movement behind him.

“Morning.” Rod drops a soft kiss on his shoulder. Then he rolls over, John’s glasses in his hand, and opens them up and pops them onto his face. He slides them up John’s nose, smiles, and says, “There you are.”

And oh. All that panic seems further away once he has the armor of his glasses back, and now he can see the pillow crinkles imprinted into Rod’s cheek. He seems less like an agent of impending judgement and more like Rod, just Rod, Rod who knows him and has seen him at his worst and still, for whatever baffling reason, seems to like him.

“Hi,” he manages, and Rod beams like that was exactly the right thing to say.

“Coffee?” Rod offers. “Or shower first?”

As rare as it is for John to turn down coffee, he really is unpleasantly sticky. Deal with that problem first, he decides. “Shower,” he says, grateful that he’s not required to string together more than single words.

“Sure.” Rod gives his ass a cheeky pat as he rises, then throws him a towel.

He showers quickly and efficiently, but as he steps out and wraps a towel around himself he spots a purpling bruise on the side of his neck in the mirror. He stops to trace it with his fingers, remembering the feeling of Rod’s mouth there, hot and demanding.

“Ahh.” Rod stands in the doorway to the bathroom. “Sorry about that. I got a bit carried away.” There’s a flush on his cheeks, and he looks nervous.

John tilts his head, looks at the mark from another angle. There it is: incontrovertible evidence that he's wanted. What a fascinating concept. “Don’t be. I like it.”

“Oh.” Rod’s eyes go very round and the blush deepens. “That’s good. That’s. Ahh. Very good. I’ll just -”

Rod drops the towel from around his waist and makes for the shower, and John gets an eyeful of his half-hard cock, and then, as he walks past, an ass he has the sudden urge to sink his fingers into. A heat that’s beginning to feel familiar creeps up his neck, and he wants -

What the hell, he thinks, and he tosses his own towel aside to follow Rod back into the shower, delighting in his yelp of surprise when he slides up behind him.

-

“Shep! Think fast!”

John manages to get his hands up just in time to prevent the power bar from hitting him in the face.

“Thought you might want a snack before the mission,” Ronon says with a wink. “Just in case we have to run anywhere.”

“Hey, I’m getting better at that! I’ll catch up with you one day.”

“Sure you will.” Ronon checks the straps on John's tac vest like he always does, then says, "Looking good, buddy," and ruffles his hair.

John used to hate that, but he's given up trying to tame his hair and now he lets it stick up in whatever direction it wants. It's weird but it works.

Teyla bumps her shoulder against his as they walk toward the gate room. "What do you have for us today, John?"

“Remember that strange energy signal Major Lorne’s team picked up last week? I was able to map its topography through space and pinpoint its likely origin, and Rod took a look at the electromagnetic readings and he thinks it might be a power source -”

“So we are going to investigate the signal on P2X-884?”

“Bingo.”

Rod is standing in front of the gate like he belongs there. He claps his hands. "Ready for another thrilling adventure in the Pegasus galaxy?"

"Maybe we'll get to hunt some Wraith," Ronon says, entirely too cheerfully.

"Or discover some hideous alien parasite," Teyla joins in with a gruesome smirk.

"Or accidentally blow something up," John supplies, because that's usually how their luck goes.

"Sounds delightful." Rod grins and yells up to the gate techs, "Dial her up."

As the gate engages with a whoosh and a glow of blue light, Rod reaches out to graze his fingers against John's: a reminder, and a promise. Out of the corner of his eye, John catches his smile.

He stands a little taller, knowing his team has his back, and steps through the wormhole.

[ka-za-ri]

Personal Assistant pt. 1

Hi. I’m in complete and utter Obey Me! Hell Enjoy some Lucifer x MC smut shamelessly put into a modern day CEO!Lucifer AU. Many parts to come. I’m completely covered in filth and thirst. Unbeta’d because we die like heroes here. Let me go back to being a gremlin now.

Paring: Lucifer x MC Wordcount: 5,000 ish Genre: Shameless, filthy smut Tags: Multiple Orgasms, sex on a desk, Finger fucking, overstimulation

Part 2: here Part 3: here Part 4: here Part 5: Here Part 6: Here Part 7: Here Also found on Ao3: Here

Lucifer has been sent to the human realm to study them and acclimate to and learn about their behaviors. By some miracle, you landed a job interview with his illustrious company as his personal assistant. A lot of extra work not listed on the job posting is required of you, to say the least.

Part 1: Interview

Adapting to the human world wasn’t hard. Humans were after all, predictable little things, easily swayed by their desires, it didn't take much effort at all to make them bend to his will. Lucifer’s time thus far ‘learning’ about the human realm had netted him a sizable company under his control. It wasn’t long before he became bored of that. Being a CEO of Akuzon meant many things. One being that he was always busy and needed some help around his office. Previous attempts at having a personal assistant failed him as they never satisfied his needs and kept up with the workload.

Somehow, you found yourself looking at the ad in the paper and hastily applying to the job It seemed too good to be true. It paid well, was for a reputable company, was close to home, and you fit the criteria listed. It was a shot in the dark, you knew there must be hundreds of others clamoring for the position as well. However, much to your surprise only a couple of weeks passed when you received an email requesting your presence for an interview.

The office building was massive, fitting right in with the many sky scrapers of the city. After putting on the best interview clothes you had and making your makeup was on point, you had thought you were ready for anything. Seeing the building and stepping inside it’s grand spaces had you faltering for a moment, a shiver of nervousness running down your spine. Almost everyone in the vicinity stopped what they were doing to see who it was at their front door. The nervousness increased as their gazes bored down into you, making you think you had gotten the wrong building.

“Are you here for an interview?” A young lady at the front desk asked cheerfully, noticing how lost you seemed.

“Ah! Yes! I am! For the position of Lucifer’s secretary.” You explained, relieved that there were some helpful people there.

The lady raised an eyebrow, surprised that someone so green would be chosen for such a high ranking position, but didn’t press the issue any further. Dialing a few numbers into the phone at her desk, she made a quick call. “Yes, she’s here… I’ll bring her right up.” She looked up at you, a sweet smile on her face and got up to guide you to the elevators on the other side of the floor. “He’ll be ready to see you once you get to his floor.”

“His floor?”

“Yes. His office is one of the top floors of the building. As his secretary, you’ll be responsible for taking care of it as well as any other duties he asks of you.” She explained. “You’re so lucky… I applied for that position ages ago, but couldn’t pass the interview phase. I hope you fare better than me.”

“I hope so too…” You agreed, hoping to hide the shaking in your voice.

The trip to the top floor seemed to stretch forever. The light music in the background did little to soothe your anxiety as you watched the numbers climb higher and higher until they stopped at 60 and the doors slid smoothly open after a soft chime.

“Well, this is where I leave you. He’s right beyond those doors.” The lady gave you a small reassuring push forward and before you could have any second thoughts, the doors closed and you were left alone, facing tall frosted glass doors. Taking one last stuttering breath, you took the steps forward to push open the doors. They were much heavier than expected and after a bit of a struggle, you finally managed to open it.

Before you sat the most impeccable man you had ever seen. The very image of power in a young and handsome man. The name plate placed at the very edge confirmed to you that he was indeed to be the man who was going to be conducting the interview. It was difficult to get your mind past how handsome he was. His perfectly parted hair framed his face and its long, delicate features. He wore a black fitted suit, one that probably cost more than any number you could imagine. Each stitch in its place to accentuate the lines of his body and to cut an imposing figure, even when seated. Everything about him oozed control and power. You had every right to be nervous.

He sat behind a massive desk; the only documents in front of him were what you expected to be your files. Most everything else, save for his nameplate, had been cleared off. If he had done this to intimidate you, he was doing an exceptionally good job without even saying a damn thing. “Come in. Have a seat. I’ve been expecting you.” He beckoned and gestured at the seat in front of him, his eyes raking up and down your figure, assessing everything about you. All the while, you were powerless to deny his request. His voice was soothing, low and lulled you into a strange sense of security.

Sinking into the seat in front of the desk, you sat just at the edge, reminding yourself to keep your posture proper and to keep your appearance as professional as possible. You needed to employ every trick in the book in order to succeed in the interview; and Lucifer knew that. His expression was unreadable as he waited for you to settle in, his hands idly flipping through your resume. “So, tell me, what do you think you can bring to this company working for me?”

Ah, there it was, the interview questions. You had prepared for this and the answer you rehearsed fell easily from your lips. “I have a lot of experience in working as an office manager. I understand that my duties may extend past what was listed in the job posting. However, I am willing to take in the extra hours and to work whatever job is given to me to ensure that your position and your reputation remains as impeccable as it has always been since the start. I will bring a new level of efficiency in your workflow and I will be a great asset to your company as such.”

He hummed, seeming uninterested in what you had to say. You began to sweat a bit at the back of your neck. Perhaps he had expected something more unique? Once again, he flipped through the pages of your resume, not really reading anything, just looking at the information you had put down. “I see… And how do you deal with pressure or stressful situations?”

Again, another question you had prepared for. “The easiest way to diffuse stressful stressful situations or overwhelming workloads is to make extensive lists. I like to break things down into their basic components so that large tasks are much more manageable in a timely manner.

He hums again, a vague sound of approval this time, nodding only slightly before making a mark on the papers in front of him. “Very good. Final question. How do you like to be managed?” His eyes flick up to you and there’s something in the way he gazes in your direction that makes your heart beat faster. There was something in the way his eyes trailed up and down your body that had you sitting up straighter than before.

“As long as I have clear direction, I will be able to work independently or as a team as needed.”

Much to your surprise, Lucifer smiles at the answer, circling something on the paper before getting up and sauntering over to you. “That’s very good to hear.” he said quietly, turning to look out the floor to ceiling windows to the cityscape his office overlooked. “There will be a lot of times where I can be demanding and ask you to stay later than usual hours. Will your priority still be this job if I ask this of you?”

You swallowed, not sure how you felt about the question, his tone had an undercurrent of electric energy that had you heating up and shivering at the same time. “Y-yes.” You stated after a brief pause, entranced by the curve of his spine and how well his pants fit his ass. “I can do that. I plan on making this position more than a job. I am looking for a career here.”

Lucifer nodded again, still not making any eye contact with you, which gave you plenty more time to ogle at how his posture and his stance against the window struck such a formal and imposing figure. At this point, he could tell you to work three twenty hour shifts in a row and you wouldn’t complain. The prospect of a hot boss, great pay and a job that was close to home was too tempting to you.

“If you accept this position, you will be placed on a probation period, as is customary for this company.” He explained and your heart started to beat faster. Did this mean you landed the job? You couldn’t tell if he was psyching you up for potential disappointment or if he was genuinely starting to offer you the job. “Once I’ve gone over your performance during your probationary period, your salary will increase. Additional raises and bonuses will be offered as I see fit for… exceptional work.” You couldn’t see it, but rather, you felt him smirking at his reflection in his reflection. “Does that sound acceptable to you?”

“Yes…” You breathed, mouth watering at the aspect of being able to make so much money. It was more than any other job you worked for paid.

Humans were such easy little playthings to control.

Lucifer walked back to you, standing in front of his desk and leaning against the heavy wood. “Your job will be of course to do what I request, many times without question. There will be many sensitive documents that you will handle and that requires your utmost confidentiality.”

“I understand.” You said bluntly, trying to calm your heart and your breathing to no avail.

“You understand that this position also may also involve some after hours activities which I will ask for you to partake in. They are not written on the job description, but they are paramount to this position. Don’t worry… I’ll be sure you receive clear and concise directions on exactly what to do as my personal assistant.”

You blinked. The way he worded the phrase seemed off, but you couldn’t put your finger on what. It was odd, he had always referred to the job as ‘this position’ until just now. It was the first time the actual job title until he tugged at the cuffs of his suit, undoing the buttons. “Oh…” You breathed, eyes wide, cheeks blushing brightly when you realized what he meant, the bulge in his pants was all the proof you needed for there to be absolutely no miscommunication. From the looks of it, you could only surmise that he was barely half mast in that state. Fuck, what kind of monster is he hiding in there?

“Before we sign the papers and you accept the job, I would like to do a test run to make sure you’re a good fit for the company.”

“Yes… of course.” You were practically panting, eyes blown wide and cheeks flushed. You pressed your legs together trying to hide the arousal that started pooling there after the realization that you would be servicing your future boss in rather intimate ways. That fact alone had you ready to sign whatever contract he produced in a heartbeat.

“We’ll begin by seeing how good you are at following directions. Stand up, please.” He flicked his fingers upward, eyes traveling up and down your body, knowing exactly the kind of reaction he was pulling out of you.

You were upon your feet in an instant, hands at your side, back straight as a board and your legs together. You barely dared to breathe as he left his spot on his desk to circle you. You could feel his gaze taking in every detail. He was close enough for you to smell the cologne he wore waft past you as he passed your side and you suppressed a shiver.

“What kind of posture is this?” He chided, pressing the spot between your shoulder blades gently, pushing your shoulders back. “Just because you’re standing up straight does not mean you’re doing it properly.” Lucifer tsked, shaking his head slightly. “How do you expect to represent me and this company if you look like a cardboard cut out.” His hands left a trail of goosebumps across your skin as he adjusted your body as he saw fit. Your hands folded neatly in front of you, your legs now just shoulder width apart and your shoulders back, he took another circle around you to reassess your stance. “Much better.” He murmured. “It will do you well to remember how this feels. I won’t be so lenient if I see you looking so foolishly in front of a client.”

You nodded, memorizing just how he had posed your body, reminding yourself to practice in the mirror. You didn’t dare speak unless he gave you permission to, just something about how he stalked around you made it impossible to raise any objections.

“Stay still unless I say otherwise.” Lucifer commanded next. “It’s important that you are at attention no matter what the circumstances. When I ask for your… special services, you will refer to me as Sir.” His finger traced the hem of your pencil skirt, pulling it up just a bit and you fought back the urge to flinch. “But of course, I should say that right now, you have the power to stop this at any time. Understood?”

“Yes…”

“Yes who?” Lucifer’s tone was sharp and the hand playing at the hem of your skirt moved to place a firm spank on your ass. The pain coursing down your leg, you jumped a bit, but remembered his command to stay still.

“Yes… Sir…”

“Good.” He nearly purred, leaning in to kiss the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your skin and his hand once again traveled to the hem of your skirt, playing with the fabric and pulling it up until he got a good view of the lacy lucky panties you decided to wear that day. “Very good.” he praises, tracing his fingers across the flimsy fabric. Your breath hitches as he brushes light touches across your bare skin. You stay still, demanding that your body stop trembling, though Lucifer can clearly tell just how nervous you are, shaking like a little lamb at his behest. In a show of dominance, he lets your skirt fall back down, cupping your face to pull you into a heated kiss.

Your mind is practically blank at this point, hands still clasped in front of you, gripping each other like your life depended on it while he claimed your lips and took your breath away. At some point you had reciprocated, kissing him back and earning a low growl from the back of his throat as a reward. He pulled away, your lipstick smeared across his face and his eyes glittering in lust as he looked at your disheveled form in perfect posture. “Hmm… yes… I think you’ll fit right into my needs.” He appraised, rubbing his chin and smirking. The expression sends a shiver down your spine but you didn’t dare move.

His hand guides you two steps forward towards his desk. “Bend over.” He commands and you oblige, your chest laying on the surface of the mahogany desk. Your hips flush against the edge of it while your hands stretched out to grasp at what it could to stay still as he asked. He readjusts you again, spreading your legs further, straining the fabric of your skirt. With a tsk of frustration, he pulled the offending piece of clothing up to your waist, letting the cool AC hit the back of your thighs and allowing him to spread your legs even further. In your heels, you could feel your calves tremble as you struggled to keep the position he had set for you. Thankful for the desk to cling onto, you used it to ground yourself as your ass is exposed to him. Your legs spread to the point where you were bent sharply, completely level with the desk and your hot core could feel the air conditioning blow past your heated nether lips. “You look good spread across my desk like this. I’ll be sure to make use of this position often.” He commented, rubbing your ass gently, teasing you through the fabric of your panties. His fingers brush across the wet spot on your panties and you can feel the it mold against your wet heat. Embarrassed, you stifled the whine that formed at the back of your throat. Even if the two of you were on a separate floor from others, you didn’t know if there were others right outside those heavy glass doors.

His teasing seemed to last forever and you could just see how much he was enjoying it whenever you dared to glance up and see your lewd reflection in the mirror with that salacious grin on his face as he fingered you oh so gently and left you on the edge of wanting more. Every time you glanced up even briefly, he always made sure to make eye contact with you in the reflection, knowing just how much you were affected by his basic touches.

Of course, he wasn’t getting out of the exchange with nothing. The slight bulge in his pants earlier had strained into an impressive tent seeing his new assistant splayed out before him, eager to please. Humans were such predictable creatures. Predictable, yet so much fun to toy with. He couldn’t get enough of the soft sighs that came from your lips as you held back your noises. It only made him want to see break for him even more. His slender, manicured fingers finally gave you a little relief, pressing against the wet spot in your panties and following the curves of your pussy lips that had molded themselves there due to your slick. At that, your hips bucked back, urging him to give him more but a firm hand on your lower back stopped any further movements. “I did not say you could move.”

You whined, clutching onto the edge of the desk, your fingers sore and locking up from how hard you were holding on. You weren’t sure how you were going to handle this sort of treatment on the regular when the trial run was already driving you mad with need. As if he could sense your impatience, he finally pulled down your panties, allowing your legs a brief reprieve as he took them off and tossed them to the side before making you resume the position you had held for who knew how long.

“For a trial run, you’re doing very well.” He cooed, smirking as he saw your glistening folds. “I should remind you that there are people still working in the building. We may have a floor to ourselves, but please keep that in mind and don’t scream too loudly now.” He chuckled darkly, tracing the curve of your ass and finally sinking a finger into your heat. Just the feeling of being penetrated by something had you keening and you struggled to keep yourself from screaming. “Ooh, that’s a pretty noise you make… Please make more of those.” he encouraged, slowly sliding his finger in and out of you.

“Y-yes sir.” You panted, your legs ached, but the pain was absolutely nothing compared to the pleasure that was building up in your abdomen just from feeling a finger slowly fuck you. You had come in for an interview and your soon to be boss was unraveling you in ways you had only fantasized about. All the while, Lucifer remained the very image of composure, if it weren’t for his very obvious hard on being pressed against the back of your thigh, you would have thought he was impervious to the scene he had orchestrated. Every time his finger dragged itself out of you, you let out an appreciative mewl, mind reeling as he pressed every button he needed for you to submit completely to him.

You lost track of time and how many times he left you wanting more with how his finger moved in and out of you. At some point, he had added a second, then a third, deliciously stretching you out. You were so wet and ready for him, you could feel your essence drip down your thighs as your legs struggled to keep you upright. Lucifer was patient, he had lived several millennia already, edging you until you were a begging mess on top of his desk for a few hours was absolutely nothing to him.

In a show of surprising restaurant, he pressed hot kisses against the back of your neck, nipping at your skin whenever you let out a particularly breathy sigh. The scent of sex and his cologne enveloped you and you were practically dizzy with need. “Sir…” You whined after he had curled his fingers in you, making you see stars and your walls trembled, clenching around his fingers. “Please… I need more…”

“Oh?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and removing his fingers, much to your dismay. He watched in amusement as your pussy twitched, clenching around air now that his fingers were no longer filling you. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he was surprised how long you had held out before you were begging for him. His erection had pressed against his impeccably tailored pants for so long, it was almost painful, yet, he couldn’t let you have your way just yet. Even if it was a trial, he still wanted to see just how far he could push you. “You think you really deserve more? You haven’t even gotten this job yet.”

His fingers were back on your wet, sopping cunt, sliding up and down your labia, rubbing slow, firm circles around your clit. You wailed, bucking your hips and forgetting the command to stay still until his other hand reminded you by spanking your ass cheek. “No moving.” He growled and you struggled to obey, stilling your body even though every part of you screamed to squirm and beg for him. “You will get more when I decide you get more.”

You could only nod in reply, letting him use your body as he saw fit. “For your next test. You will cum when I tell you to.” he breathed, pressing his finger against your clit, making you choke back a sob of pleasure. “After that, I promise you, you’ll be at the last part of the interview.”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll do what you want, Sir. Whatever you say, Sir.” You babbled mindlessly, your body aching for relief and release. The torture and pleasure he could pull out of you with just his fingers had your mind jumping to the future to what other things he could elicit out of you.

“Good girl.” He praised, patting your hair in a surprisingly soft gesture. He followed the gentleness with a chaste kiss on your lips before going right back to being the commanding figure you had met him as. He plunged his fingers into you again, knuckle deep and pumping in and out of you furiously, loving the way your walls fluttered and clenched as you held off on your orgasm until he permitted it. “You are so obedient… just what I like.” He praised breathlessly, working you closer and closer to the point of no return.

You couldn’t think straight, you didn’t care if others heard the lewd sounds coming from your lips as you whined, begging for release. You were so close, you wanted to cum so badly, but your determination to pass his test outweighed your desire and you held out until his silky voice whispered the blissful word into your ear. “Cum…” He purred and you gratefully crumbled, your body spasming around his fingers, milking it like it was his cock. Soft whines escaped your lips and tears of gratitude streaked down your face.

“Thank you, Sir.” You panted, blissed out and feeling weightless after such a powerful orgasm. Your vision blurred as you stared blankly at the wall, wondering if this was the end of the interview. Lucifer’s fingers leaving your sore pussy sure seemed to signal that things had reached a conclusion. Glancing up at the reflection in the windows, you flushed bright red when you saw Lucifer lewdly cleaning his fingers off with his tongue.

“Hmm… I think you would do well.” He said once his fingers no longer shone with your essence. He sauntered over to the other side of the desk where you clung onto for dear life. Sinking into his chair, he casually opened up one of the drawers, pulling out a contract and placing it in front of you. “If you believe you can keep up with my demands, then all you have to do is sign on the dotted line at the bottom. He slid you an ornate fountain pen into your hand.

Your trembling digits could barely hold onto the pen and you moved to start reading the contract, going over the terms and conditions of your new position. Most of it was the basic business jargon seen in every typical job. There were a few things that seemed out of place, but in your just fucked state of mind, it was very difficult to focus on what about them seemed wrong. Unable to really think straight about what you were getting yourself into, you placed the pen onto the paper, eager to start your new job.

Just as you the pen started to move, you heard the sound of a zipper being undone and the hard erection you had felt earlier on the back of your thigh now pressed up against your sore pussy. You gasped, eyes going wide at the feeling of being stretched out once again. “Well? Will you sign?” He asked casually, sinking into you inch by inch as you struggled to breath and think, let alone sign a contract.

“Yes… Yes, Sir…” you whined, starting to shakily write your name as he bottomed out inside of you. He hissed, taking a hold of your hips and roughly slamming them back into him to get as much contact as he could. You yelped, unable to write your name at all. Your hips banged against the edge of the desk with every one of his rough thrusts. No doubt, there would be dark bruises there the next day reminding you exactly what you did to get the job you were signing for now.

With each pass, Lucifer lets a little more of himself go, grunting in effort as he relished in the feeling of your hot walls surrounding him. He hadn’t found such an obedient human in a long time. It would be such a fun time for him to push your limits every day you were in his office. What he offered now was only a glimpse of what he had planned for you. Every time your hand stuttered in the middle of signing your name, his grin widened. The closer you were to sealing the contract with him, the closer he was to his own release that he had been holding back for hours now.

“Just a little more…” he urged, slowing down his thrusts so you had at least some time to get a few more letters of your name out. Just as you finished, he let out a primal growl, slamming his hips into yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the room as he fucked you without abandon. The fountain pen fell from your fingers and you were back to clutching onto the edge of the desk as yet another explosive orgasm started to build in you.

Glancing up into the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of what Lucifer looked like while he was coming undone inside of you, you were surprised at the image you saw. It was only for a brief moment, but you swore you saw horns on him, and dark, feathery wings framing his body. The sound of the pen you dropped falling to the floor broke the illusion and the image of the prim and proper business man with an utterly feral look was all you saw.

He knew he wouldn’t last long once he entered you and so, he chased his release inside of you. As soon as the contract was signed, he was done for. His hand snaked around your abused waist to reach for your clit, bringing you to climax in time with his own. With a grateful groan, he released all the pent up tension in him, spilling his hot seed deep inside of you while your walls spasmed around him, milking every inch of him and accepting what he had given you. “Very good…” he cooed, his eyelids fluttering as he relished in the rush that came after such an explosive climax.

You whined, your body bruised and beaten, but also feeling absolutely boneless and euphoric. You hadn’t experienced anything like that before and it was all rather mindblowing to say the least. The contract in front of you with your shaky signature, ink blots from when you lost control of the pen and a fair amount of your tears stared back at you. This was your future. This would be a regular part of your life going forward; and you didn’t feel a shred of regret from it. You zoned out for a moment, hardly believing that it was all real.

Lucifer’s cock slipping out of you and the feeling of his cum dripping out of you snapped you back to reality. “Very good job. I’ll say you passed all the tests with flying colors.” He said, fixing his suit and continuing on as if he hadn’t just fucked the living daylights out of you. “I expect you to come in on Monday ready to work. I have a lot of filing for you to catch up with.”

He smirked, taking the signed contract and slipping it back into his desk. He cupped your chin in his hand and planted soft kisses on your lips, once again leaving you dizzy and breathless. “You are free to move now.” He said and you gratefully worked on closing your sore legs, wondering how you were going to make it out the office in the state that you were in. You weren’t sure you were able to walk, let alone get all the way home with how weak you were. Lucifer chuckled, dialing a few numbers into his cellphone. “I’ll arrange for a ride home for you.” He offered. “As a thank you for such a lovely interview.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, knowing you had a way to get back without catching too many unwanted stares at your disheveled state. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Lucifer.” He corrected briskly.

“Thank you, Lucifer. I’ll be sure to arrive on time Monday.” You sank into the chair to gather your wits about you, staring at your trembling hands.

“Good.” He said coolly and looking up at him, you gasped when you saw him casually twirling your panties on one finger as he looked down at you. “Your ride should be here shortly, please make sure you’re presentable, you do not want to dishonor me.”

“Yes. Of course, Lucifer.” you hastily combed your hand through your hair, hoping to take care of the worst of the flyaways. You glanced nervously at the panties in his hand, figuring they were a lost cause at this point and simply accepted the fact that you’d be taking this arranged ride with your boss’ cum dripping down your thigh. Carefully standing up, you remembered to assume the proper posture he had shown you earlier and he smiled in approval.

“Very good.” He gestured to the heavy glass doors, opening them as if with magic with a press of a button. “I’ll see you Monday.”

“Yes,Lucifer.” You replied obediently, taking the first shaky steps out.

“Oh, and one more thing.” he called out to your retreating form. You turned, blinking and wondering what else he could want from you. “Wear the same lipstick, will you? I’d love to see what that color looks like smeared all over my cock.”

“Yes, of course. As you wish.” You replied, blushing a deep red and rushing out of the office now, high off of getting the coveted position of Lucifer’s personal assistant and the prospect of what else he could ask you to do for him.

Watching you slip into the elevator, Lucifer smiled to himself. He reached into his desk and pulled out the contract, skimming the terms and conditions you had agreed to.

Humans were terribly predictable. Yet, they were also infinitely entertaining.

[willowgast]

hi! i’m very interested in history and would love to study it in college, but i don’t know what careers i could get with a history major besides being a teacher. are you planning on becoming a teacher, or do you have other career suggestions for those studying history? tysm if you respond!

so, here's a testament to how terrible i am at running this ramshackle blog - i just found this in my drafts after goodness knows how long and frankly i dread to count back and find out. but it is a very good question and i am very, very sorry for taking probably months to do this, and even if this no longer interests you (i apologise again) i'm going to post anyway in case it interests somebody else. going under the cut because this might become a tad long-winded - there's also a tl;dr at the very end of the post for those who don't want to sift through my stream of thoughts.

i am not personally planning on becoming a teacher, at least not in a high school level or younger - still have far too many Spicy Memories from that age to want to return to a school setting in any capacity. academia does appeal to me a lot more as an option - i'm loving my dissertation work and there are lots of areas within my broad field of medieval northern europe with room for fresh, new research. i could specialise in any number of areas, but right now what appeals to me most is literary history and archaeology. unfortunately, my course isn't running the archaeology paper it usually offers as part of the second year setup this year, so i won't get to try out specialising in it, but it's something that's grabbed my attention more and more over the course of my first year of study.

beyond remaining within academia or going into archaeology, i've also considered museum work and archival work. my interest in working in a museum has sprung from a similar place to my interest in archaeology - i've discovered that staying holed up writing at a desk all day, every day can be very draining and, more importantly, that working with physical, material history right in my hands and before my very eyes is Really Super Cool and Exciting. i would very happily look into options for working in a museum in curation or conservation, helping to preserve artefacts and make them accessible to the general public. archival work comes from a similar place, too - i guess it combines my interest in literary history with the feeling of intimacy and immediacy that comes with working with material history.

steering away from fields directly relevant to history, i'd also love to spend some time working in a library - any kind at all, from my local public library to something more academic. one of the papers i'm taking is palaeography, the study of manuscripts, which i've developed a much greater fondness for than i expected to when i started. it's made me really interested in working in an academic library that curates and cares for collections of older manuscripts, i guess like a crossover of a library and a museum.

there's a few areas too that aren't directly related to my degree, but are helped and supplemented by it - these are translation, publishing, and creative writing. languages and literature have always been my strongest subject in school, so it helps a lot for me that my course is interdisciplinary, combining study of medieval languages, literature, and history rather than being strictly a history degree. i maintain a good standard of french and german from when i studied them at school and i'm also learning danish, norwegian, and swedish on the side. the last three are mainly just for reading purposes as i sometimes get set academic articles to read in those languages, but i'd love to work and study in norway some day so i'm practicing norwegian to a more proficient/practical level. at some stage, probably once i've completed my degree, i'd like to save some money aside to take exams and hopefully get qualifications in some of those languages - probably german and norwegian - just to have some formal acknowledgement of my work to hand if i ever want to pursue any programmes or qualifications in translation studies. literary translation, working with creative literature rather than formal documents or academic writing, is something i'm very sure i would enjoy.

publishing is harder to describe, i guess. i have a small role as the editor of my department's silly little student magazine and i'd like to expand and apply to editorial positions at other, marginally more respectable student publications - it's certainly a role i'm enjoying a lot, although i haven't done much research into the professional publishing industry yet. it's on the backburner until i pull my life together enough to properly research career options there.

alternatively, the one thing that has always been my go-to dream job since i was a kid is just 'writer'. i love writing fiction and poetry, i have spent at least some of my free time each week writing whatever comes to mind for as long as i can remember. i have a big fantasy project on the go at the moment that i don't really talk about on this blog, but i do now have the beginnings of a world anvil page talking about it which is linked in my pinned post. i'm not banking on it or considering it as a very reliable option, but i will keep slowly and lovingly building it until it's ready to share, and then i'll simply see what happens next.

(if it took off though, i would drop everything else in my life like a hot plate and live out my silly little childhood dream to its fullest potential. tween magnus deserves some justice in this life.)

anyways - TL;DR now:

jobs i'm personally interested in:

academia/professional scholar

museum curator or conservator

archaeology

archivist

librarian

literary translator

something in the publishing industry idk

writer

general history-degree-related advice:

there are more options out there than just teaching which are directly related to the field of history. the more you dig into your area of interest, the more weird and whacky jobs you never expected to exist will crop up on your radar - i'm sure there are plenty of obscure things i've missed out here. unless you become a tenured professor or senior curator or secure a job at a particularly fancy/prestigious institution, none of these jobs pay particularly well, and academia especially is known for treating everyone who isn't a tenured senior academic like mud. therefore you pretty much have to be in these jobs out of passion rather than a desire to live comfortably and with above-average financial success. finally, most people i know at university, regardless of their field, aren't aiming to find careers directly relevant to said fields (apart from like, med students and lawyers and that kind of thing). especially in the humanities. none of us really know what we're doing. if you're comfortable studying these subjects for the pure passion and joy of it, fantastic, i'm right there the same with you - if you want something that has a more stable degree-to-career progression, humanities right now probably aren't top subjects. there's a whole ongoing cultural debate about how criminally undervalued humanities degrees and jobs are, and i hope that soon we'll see some tangible results from this - among them that all of the jobs i've listed above will be marginally better paid, and junior academics better treated within their fields.

history is wonderful. come join us. (also if anyone else doing humanities has points or advice that i've missed out, please feel free to add them, my scope of experience is still very limited)