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13eyond13 · 4 years ago

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HI! Guess who's back. I'm not sure if you're going to remember me but I'm Abs Anon. It's been a long while! I moved countries now and I'm not boringly waiting at ER, I'm boringly waiting for customers, trying to come up with a cool ask. Unfortunately this is all I've got: what character of death note would be worse/best at customer service. Rating from 0 to 10 if you want. I hope you have a great day!! <3

Why hello Absy! What a pleasant surprise. Congratulations on the big move! I love this ask lol... DEATH NOTE CHARACTERS + HOW WELL THEY WOULD PROVIDE CUSTOMER SERVICE:

B: Has the exact opposite of a helpful, cooperative attitude, and is probably constantly looking for ways he can undermine or one-up others whenever they come to him with legitimate questions or complaints (1/10)

ROGER: Very easily stressed and discouraged by customer dissatisfaction, and no tact for resolving the issues harmoniously or efficiently. No customers voluntarily choose him to deal with their problems, and his colleagues often forget he even works there (1.5/10)

SIDOH: Vaguely cares about the customer's concerns because he is anxious and easily bossed around, but useless at actually fixing the issues. Also calls in sick every other day (2/10)

RYUK: Just out to have a good time and to avoid punishment or responsibility at all costs. Mostly trying to catch a nap in the storage room or figuring out how to shoplift something from his own store without being caught on the security cameras (3/10)

MIKAMI: That sullen guy who always eats by himself in the corner of the break room, and who you've never seen smiling once. Follows the company policy to the letter, but he's definitely not someone you would choose to warmly greet customers at the door (4/10)

REM: She is only helpful if she has a crush on you (4/10)

L: Can be pleasant and tactful if he wants to be, but is very unsympathetic and sarcastic to customers and coworkers who irritate him by being inefficient or slow to catch on. Extremely knowledgeable about the things he's genuinely interested in, so still gets a fair number of repeat clients who request his help because they believe he's the best at fixing the issue, even if not the most personable or patient (5/10)

MATT: Probably more fun to hang out with as a coworker than to rely on for a job well done. Will always go for a raunchy joke rather than attempt to be appropriate, and though he is smart and capable he doesn't really care that much if he's being recognized for his achievements or climbing the corporate "ladder of success" (5.5/10)

AIZAWA: Wants to do a good job, but isn't that great at coming up with original solutions of his own, and sometimes lets his hot temper get in the way of being helpful and polite (6/10)

MELLO: Perfectly capable of delivering good customer service, but has very little desire to help others, and also thinks it's usually funnier to watch them sweat (6.5/10)

NEAR: Likes working together to solve problems with others, and is pretty good at it, but has a hard time stuffing his own blunt and negative opinions when he's cranky or annoyed (7/10)

WEDY: Does whatever is asked of her perfectly fine, but is a bit too aloof and independent to be a natural team player (7/10)

HALLE: Great at being flexible in order to meet demands, but sometimes lets her own personal feelings get in the way of a job well done (7.5/10)

KIYOMI: Has the polite customer service voice down pat, but is a little bit too much of a fussy diva to wait on others without reserve (7.5/10)

LIGHT: Great at figuring out what others want from him and then attempting to become that for them, but his secret arrogance and snobby sense of superiority makes it so he is never truly committed to performing at the top of his game in a servile role. An exception might be if it was a position that gave him special distinction and social status while also appearing servile (eg. a clergyman or some such thing) (8/10)

MISA: Cheerful disposition and an entertainer by trade, smart at knowing what others want from her and then giving it to them. Would be higher up if she didn't let her personal feelings get in the way of her professionalism a bit much (8.5/10)

NAOMI: Expert at being likable and perceptive and at stuffing her own negative feelings and opinions in order to get the job done, but could stand to be a little more extraverted and optimistic, maybe (8.5/10)

MATSUDA: Extremely enthusiastic and genuinely outgoing, always willing to lend a hand and a people-pleaser to a fault. Would be higher up if he didn't run his mouth a bit too much without thinking sometimes (8.5/10)

SOICHIRO: Very hard worker with a sincere desire to help everyone and think about what's best for others instead of just himself, but might get a little blustery and temperamental if there were big stressful conflicts at work (8.5/10)

WATARI: Master of fading into the background and just being a silent servant dude. Would be higher up on the list except that he might be a little TOO good at being invisible sometimes (9/10)

SACHIKO: Also kind of a master of fading into the background and being a silent servant type; biggest weak spot is she can be a little frosty when she doesn't like someone, and it shows (9/10)

MOGI: Has an incredibly array of skills and almost never lets his personal feelings get in the way of doing his job well or helping whoever needs to be helped. Also pushes himself to be outgoing when he has to, even though he's shy (9.5/10)

GEVANNI: Extremely hard worker who you could rely on to get anything done, and seems to make it his mission to be useful while also successfully blending in (9.5/10)

SAYU: Laid-back, friendly, funny and sweet; I'd definitely hire her to work as a cashier or a hostess anytime, even if she might sometimes get slightly lazy about doing her work (9.5/10)

AIBER: Charming, easygoing, and flexible for fitting any role he's asked to fill, plus a people-person and body language expert by trade. You just know he'd be the top salesman on your salesfloor and snapping up that employee of the month position every other month (10/10)

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vickyvicarious · 4 years ago

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what do you make of Eliot's pre-show reputation for working alone? it makes sense for Parker and Hardison, who've always worked that way, but Eliot has a history of working as part of a team in various contexts

Yeah, it's definitely interesting! Really, Sophie never gets that label of 'always working alone' (and in fact later we see her bringing in Tara, which supports that she has friendly contacts still). It's just Parker, Hardison, and Eliot. And like you said, it makes complete sense for Parker, and even Hardison's hacking is just typically more suited to be done alone even if he is a social guy on a personal level. Eliot is different, given his history.

One thing I noticed a while ago, which is also interesting, is that Eliot's job by its very nature depends on other people. Sophie, Parker, and Hardison all steal what they want - as retrieval specialist, Eliot had to be hired. That's not to say he never just took something he wanted, necessarily, but his role majorly depended on people a) knowing of him in the first place, b) trusting his reputation enough to hire him, and c) being able to get in touch with him to hire him. I highly doubt he was handing out business cards left and right, so he had to have a network of contacts to at the very least pass his name along as an 'I know just the guy for the job' kind of thing. In fact, we see him bring in a friend on a con early in S1, and he is in contact with/does jobs for old military contacts throughout the show. (Once again, in the first episode Parker and Hardison were successfully recruited for someone else’s job, so it's not like that never happened for the others. But the general trend was that they picked their own heists; Eliot was hired on by other people.)

So we have a guy here who has a history of working on teams, a reputation as a loner, and yet still actively works for people who he has to keep on good enough terms to keep hiring him. How did that happen? In my opinion, it all comes back to Damien Moreau.

Eliot's timeline goes through some distinct phases:

Rural teen with a relatively poor family, I think they mention he played football; very all-American.

Joined the army with "a flag on his shoulder and God in his heart" or however that quote went.

Highly trained military operative involved in very classified operations.

Working for Damien Moreau.

Working solo as a retrieval specialist.

Leverage.

It's easy to track him through 1-3. He was recruited into the army with promises of heroism and glory, excelled at what he did, was eventually disillusioned. Getting from there to Moreau is a bit more of a jump, and likely didn't happen immediately. Given how protective Eliot gets over people he's working with, and how vigorously he hates betrayals of trust from his team, I think it's not unreasonable to assume that part of the reason he left the army had to do with whatever unit he was in getting very hurt. Likely in a way that made him feel he failed to protect them; maybe he was the only one who made it out of one specific situation. Maybe just a bunch of people he worked with got whittled down, or maybe it wasn't anything so deadly but he saw how little their lives mattered in the grand scheme of those in charge, saw how amoral the missions he was given were, and it was more of a gradual slide into illegality. There's also the detail that as he got into more and more classified work, he might be less and less likely to have a large group of people he could talk to/be a regular team with. Either way, I think Moreau didn't completely hire him straight out of the army, but there probably wasn't a tremendously long time between him leaving that group and joining up with Moreau.

*I originally thought Eliot didn't meet Toby until after he left Moreau, but a helpful anon corrected me on that! 'In the French Connection Job he says to Nate "I was out of the service and working for my 2nd PMC", doing wetwork.' He 'should've' killed Toby but instead stayed with him for months, 'learning how to cook and how to feel'. It certainly seems like he had gone some degree of numb after his experiences in the army and even since leaving it. His second private military contract/company... still implies he was working for organizations of some sort, though I get the impression he wasn't sticking around for terribly long times. Still, even if he then works solo retrieval type gigs for a while, I don't think he was nearly as insistent on working alone/had such a clear reputation about it, not yet.

Eliot no longer believed that he was doing good. He'd lost his naive patriotism and seems to have lost his religion for the most part as well. He didn't trust the system, but for the most part he still seemed to have faith in individuals. He still kept in touch with some old colleagues, he'd learned from Toby; he still wanted to be a part of something, even if that something couldn't be the US Army. He's a self-motivated criminal now but he still isn't averse to working with others.

Then comes Damien Moreau. Whether you read their relationship as romantic or not, it was undeniably important and personal. They knew one another well. Damien even still liked Eliot years after he'd left. There's good evidence for them having an emotionally abusive relationship where Moreau took advantage of Eliot's tendency to do things for those he cares about (I reblogged a great meta on this a little while ago). But essentially what we see here is that in all his time working for Moreau, no one else made such a strong impression on Eliot. Moreau definitely seems the type to play favorites and emotionally distance Eliot from other goons - Eliot isn't just another goon after all, he's the best. He's worthy of Damien's time and attention and specific assignments that only Eliot can be trusted to get done right. Whatever process of estrangement Eliot's superior skills may have begun, Moreau quickened until there was only one person who was the most important to him. Eliot didn't just work for him as a part of some vast criminal network by the end - no, he worked directly for and with Moreau himself. He was part of a team of two for all intents and purposes, regardless of how often he may have cooperated with others on specific jobs (though I suspect that got less frequent over time as well).

And when Eliot realized how deep he'd gotten, how terrible he'd become? He left, and left Damien Moreau specifically behind. Maybe he took a break for a while, went underground... it certainly doesn't seem like he had a conversation with Moreau and resigned so much as he just ran. And when he returned it was as a solo act. What this tells me is that not only did his time with Moreau break Eliot's trust in himself, it broke his ability to trust others. Not everyone necessarily, but in a working capacity. It probably was not the first time he'd experienced betrayal (in some form or another, his time in the army definitely qualified) but it was the most personal. Eliot trusted and liked Moreau - and he did the worst things in his entire life for him.

He couldn't repeat that. He couldn't leave himself open to getting sucked in like that again. And what's more, at this point he really didn't need to. His skills were such that he could get the job done himself (and had perhaps even honed those more solo skills while working for Moreau), and doing so meant that he never had to leave himself vulnerable to someone else like that again. He didn't have to be responsible for someone else getting hurt, and he didn't have to accept that he'd put someone else in charge of who he hurt. Eliot starts being more careful not to permanently injure or kill people, starts getting more selective with his jobs, and makes it a requirement that he works them alone. He still has to accept jobs from others, yeah, but he has ultimate control over what jobs he does accept, and if he operates purely on a freelance basis without getting too involved with any one client, then he can avoid the emotional entanglement that lead to such horrific loss of judgement in the past. It's hard, because he is naturally drawn to other people... but Eliot thinks that letting no one in is by far the safer option for everyone involved. He still builds relationships with others in order to get his name out, and may do repeat work for certain people, but no one is going to own him anymore. He is good enough that he can afford to set the terms like that; when he keeps getting the job done the word will spread that even alone he is worth the money. Eliot relies only on himself and any relationships he has are necessarily shallow. Professional, brief. This extends even to friendships (that seem to involve infrequent contact for the most part) and romantic relationships (he has plenty of sex but doesn't get emotionally close to anyone, does not fall in love). He is alone - in fact he is emphatically and outspokenly alone, because he doesn't want anyone to get their hooks in him like that ever again.

(*Doing jobs like this also limits the likelihood, especially in the beginning, that he's going to end up working for Moreau again in any real capacity. As time passes and Moreau doesn't attempt to bring him back too hard, that may become less of an issue in his mind, but it could certainly be a perk at least as the start.)

Then of course we eventually come to Leverage. It's been a while since Moreau. Eliot has built a solid reputation for himself - and he is being offered a LOT of money for a job that promises to be fairly quick. At this point, he probably feels like maybe he can trust himself as part of a team again without getting too sucked in - he will just keep it to one job and go his own way afterwards. It'll be fine.

...And then he immediately gets sucked in, bonds right away and wants so badly to stay. But even then, it's because of Nate. Eliot knows Nate, trusts him to be the 'honest man', is certain enough of Nate's moral compass that it's okay to get drawn in if Nate is the one making the plans. If it weren't for him, Eliot would have walked right away. Eliot was never going to allow himself to be ruled by others again... but Nate isn't like any of those people, he is a good man. Eliot can trust him not to lead him into anything too morally wrong, and in fact the work with Leverage is a way to bring some good back into the world. Not redeem himself, that won't ever happen, but under Nate's leadership Eliot can do something good for once. He doesn't want to stop.

By the time he moves past trusting Nate's judgement so much, he already trusts and loves the whole team. Parker and Hardison especially, so now he has to stay to keep them safe... even from Nate's plans sometimes, when he gets drunk and reckless. Eliot is secure in his role as part of a team again - and he probably was very lonely without one for all that time. It's not really in his nature to work alone long-term. And a key difference this time is that everyone else gets just as invested as he, and there's a good balance of power and respect unlike all of the more hierarchical teams he was in before (army, Moreau, they would have clear command structures - hell, even high-school football has a captain and a coach). Nate is nominally in charge but they talk back to him and lead where they have the most expertise. They dedicate themselves to him as much as he to them, they change together. And they change for the better, together.

#leverage #eliot spencer #leverage meta #my meta #anonymous #replies

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robinrunsfiction · 4 years ago

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Just wondering if you’d be up to writing a Frank Iero x reader fic where they are an absolutely chaotic couple? and just them doing crazy or weird shit and the rest of the bands reaction to it - maybe revenge era? maybe a lil smut in it at some point if you’re feeling that (no pressure lmao)

Chaos Loves Company

Pairing: Frank Iero x Female Reader Rating: Mature (smut) Requested By: Anon Word Count: ~1,450 Author’s Note: I hope this is chaotic enough for you Anon! Also I’m dedicating this one to my friend @maria-the-ghoul who ran a half marathon yesterday and I’m very proud of her!

"What was it like joining the band after Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge was completed?" The reporter asked you.

"At first it was a little awkward, but the guys really made me feel like I was one of the crew," you answered.

The reporter nodded. "And is there any truth to the rumors that you're dating guitarist Frank Iero?"

You couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face. You glanced around, trying to spot him in the crowd of the fancy record label party that was being thrown in your band’s honor. Reporters from publications were mingling with your bandmates, getting any kind of scoop they could. "Umm, yea, we have been for a while now," you replied tucking your hair behind your ear.

"What's it like being on the road with someone you're dating?"

"It's great! Being able to have someone you care about around all the time is ama-"

You couldn't finish your sentence because Frank had run up to you, throwing you over his shoulder and jumped into the pool that was the centerpiece of the hotel lounge that was hosting your event.

You swam to the surface the same time Frank did, eyeliner running down both your faces.

"Frank! What the hell?!" You laughed as you splashed him.

"You looked so hot, I thought you might wanna cool off," he smirked and you laughed even harder.

"What the fuck are you two doing?" Brian shouted from the edge of the pool.

You shrugged before you swam to the side of the pool and climbed out, Frank behind you.

You took the towel offered to you from a waiter and started to towel off your hair.

"We can't take you two anywhere," Ray muttered as Brian marched both of you out of the party and back to your hotel room to change. You stuck your tongue out at him in response.

"I didn't wanna be at that party anymore anyway," Frank whispered to you.

"Thank you! I was so bored!" You replied.

When you arrived at the hotel room you were sharing, you told Brian you'd be right back but given the way he rolled his eyes, he knew that he'd seen the last of you for the night.

When Mikey recruited you to join the band after Otter was kicked out, you hadn't even considered that you might fall for one of your bandmates. But then you met Frank.

You kept your crush to yourself, not looking to get fired immediately after getting hired, but about a week into your first tour Gerard asked to speak with you privately in the back of the bus.

"Please don't take this the wrong way," he started after closing the sliding door behind you. "But is there any chance you like Frank?"

You felt your cheeks burning up. "W-why?"

"Because I think he's trying to get your attention and I'm tired of mic stands getting thrown at me," he laughed.

"You mean that's not how he usually performs?"

"He's chaotic, but it's been worse since you got here."

You nodded, a smile creeping across his face. "Oh, ok, this is good to know. Thanks Gee."

He nodded and you decided that the best course of action would be to jump right in. Frank had been napping in his bunk so you drew back the curtain and climbed in.

“Wha- (YN)? What are you doing?” He asked rolling over to face you.

“Do you have a crush on me?” You giggled.

“Why?” He asked slowly.

“Someone might have mentioned you have been,” you paused picking your words, “acting out to get my attention.”

“Gerard,” Frank groaned and buried his face into the pillow and you giggled again.

“Soo?”

Frank looked up, eyebrows raised. “You… are you saying?”

“That I’d like to go out with you? Yea, I am.”

A smile spread across Frank’s face as he placed his hand on yours. You glanced down at his lips, then back up at his eyes, hoping he’d take the hint. Luckily he did and you were both leaning in, lips meeting. You’d kissed plenty of other people, but this was something different, you could tell and you were pretty sure Frank felt the same way based on the look on his face when you pulled back.

At first you didn’t know how you should approach the topic of you and Frank being together with your bandmates, so you just didn’t bring it up. Instead you spent your time ducking around with Frank, sneaking into each other's bunks when the rest of the band was asleep, but not trying not to get caught.

A couple weeks later you were sitting on the bus watching a movie with the guys as you rolled on to another town when Frank sat down next to you. You shot him a quick smile and he put his arm over your shoulder. You decided to settle in against him and you sat comfortably like that for a few minutes. Then you felt him brushing back your hair, but you didn’t think anything of it, until he started kissing your neck. You jumped slightly, glancing around at your friends, but none of them seemed to notice, in fact Mikey was asleep.

You glanced back at him and he pulled you in for a kiss. You shifted around so your legs were over his, and were fully making out.

“Oh shit,” you heard Ray exclaim and you pulled back from Frank.

“What?” You asked innocently, when you saw Gerard and Ray staring at you two. Mikey even seemed to be coming to after hearing Ray’s shout.

“I was wondering why I hadn’t had to dodge Frank’s guitar in a while,” Mikey mumbled.

“I was wondering what that sound was the other night,” Ray said, a slightly horrified look on his face.

“Oh grow up,” Frank said before grabbing your face to kiss you again.

It felt like you’d been on a constant cycle of touring, going home for a short time, and then packing up and going back out on tour. But you preferred to be on the road, as that meant more time for you and Frank.

It was a few days after your incident at the pool when you arrived backstage for another award show. MCR was scheduled to open the show, so you didn’t have to do the lame red carpet press. After finishing soundcheck, you all headed back to the dressing room to get ready and wait. Then something caught your eye.

"Psst," you said loudly enough to catch the attention of both Frank and Mikey. "Sorry, Mikes, just Frank."

Mikey rolled his eyes and continued on as Frank made his way over to you, a smirk already playing at his lips as if he could read your mind. "What's up princess?" Oh yes, he knew what you were thinking.

You took his hand, glancing around pulled him into the janitors closet that had been left ajar.

"I don’t wanna wait until we get back to the hotel tonight," you said before leaning in and kissing Frank hard.

He responded immediately, backing you against the metal shelves behind you and grinding his hips against yours. "God I love when you wear skirts," he murmured as he kissed and bit along your neck, his hand running up your thigh. "Make it so easy for me."

"That's why I do it," you smirked, even though he couldn't see it in the dark.

"We better make it fast, they're gonna look for us," he groaned as he started for his belt.

"Not if they know what's good for 'em," you laughed as you pulled down your underwear and stepped out of it.

Frank shoved down his jeans and lifted one of your legs over his hip as he lined up and pushed into you. "God you always feel so good," he moaned against your neck as you clutched at his shoulder with one hand, the other grasping at the shelves behind you.

"Ugh god Frankie," you moaned as he reached between you, rubbing your clit. "Don't stop."

"Yea, say my name,” he grunted. You repeated his name over and over like a mantra, as he thrust deep inside you.

"Frankie, so good," you moaned as you came around him. Moments later he came as well.

“God I fuckin love you, (YN),” he breathed as you both caught your breath.

“Love you too Frank,” you replied.

You had just straightened out your clothes when a banging on the door made you both jump.

“You guys done in there?” Gerard shouted, unnecessarily loudly.

Frank swung the door open. “If you wanna join in next time, just ask,” he grinned cheekily as you both walked out hand in hand.

#frank iero x reader #frank iero fanfic #frank iero fan fic #frank iero fan fiction #frank iero smut #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fanfic #my chemical romance fan fiction #Anon

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some-cookie-crumbz · 4 years ago

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Hello 👋🏼, sorry if I’m bothering u but ever since the recent chapters of BNHA I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the Todoroki family. Not many of my friends are into this anime and I just couldn’t stop myself from sharing this with you because I need to let this out.

[SPOILER ALERT 🚨!!! IF U DONT READ THE MANGA THEN U CAN JUST IGNORE THIS]

First of all:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!

(I’m still screaming as I write because the backstories RUINED me.)

Poor Touya having this horrible obsession over heroics and having his father acknowledge him but ever since his quirk started reacting against his body the whole family got negatively affected by it.

Rei and Enji wanted to stop at two kids but with Touya’s sudden disadvantage and the latter’s craving for power, Natsuo and later on Shouto was born (the youngest getting titled as the perfect heir from the moment he was born). I got torn seeing Touya’s eyes succumb to absolute madness at the birth of his younger brothers.

What scared me the most was how when it was just Touya and Fuyumi, the two hardly interacted despite being only a year apart in age. Touya claimed that ‘girls just don’t get it’ this small foreshadowing was later brought to light in the most recent chapter where he once again rejects Fuyumi’s company in favour of ranting to only Natsuo and where he disregards his own mother— another ‘girl’ that doesn’t understand his obsession passion for surpassing All Might and someone who plays along to the acts of those stronger than them. Touya saw his mother as a weak person who had no choice but to marry for the sake of her family and have custom children. Little Touya firmly believed his very existence depended on getting acknowledged my his father and defeating All Might but it sadly didn’t come true😭😭

Also..... LOOK AT THE BABIES!!!! They’re all so CUTE!!!

Chubby Fuyumi!!!

Natsuo with a running nose

And Baby Shouto with a meme like face since the day he was born🤣🤣🤣🤣

So ADORABLE!

And another thing. FUYUMI WAS EVEN YOUNGER THAN I THOUGHT TO HAVE STARTED ACTING LIKE A SECOND MOTHER TO HER BROTHERS!! Look at the way she defended Natsuo when Touya went on a rampage and tried to attack Touya! And during moments when Enji and Rei fought the two most notable heroes were Shouto and Fuyumi; the former fighting on the frontlines to face his father while the latter stood behind to once again care for her remaining family that though weren’t involved in the fight, they still needed emotional support to get through it.😭

I AM SO SORRY TO BE GETTING TO THIS SO LATE ANON BUT I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY!!!

TW: Spoilers, Brief Mention of Child Abuse (Physical, Emotional and Mental), General Fandom Wank

So, like, SO MUCH HAPPENED in those chapters and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE ALMOST ALL OF IT! There’s obviously all the things you mentioned above that were just amazing to see and learn! I know that a majority of the fandom has been absolutely livid about the reveals involving Touya being drastically different than what fandom thought they were all this time, but I think it honestly highlights how smart Horikoshi’s writing really is.

In Shoto, we see the effects of physical and mental abuse on a child, and how easily he could have ended up going down a troubling road much like Touya. Shoto’s saving grace is facing off against Deku in the Sports Festival, giving him an outside perspective and makes him realize that he can choose to be better, but that doesn’t just magically fix all of Shoto’s problems. Shoto still struggles with his feelings towards his Father and how he is perceived by simply being Endeavor’s son. We see that in the Provisional License Arc, where Shoto is so thoroughly rattled by Inasa. It’s even further pushed through how Shoto struggles with his feelings about Endeavor trying to better and whether or not he should forgive him. I feel like Shoto’s arc is incredibly strong and that his struggles are very realistic, which is why people love him so much. This whole concept is another thing I could rant about but I’m going to leave it here.

Meanwhile, with Touya, we see the effects of mental and emotional abuse on a child and how it can completely destroy them. I think people that act like Horokoshi “down played” and “ret-conned” Endeavor as a character to make him more sympathetic/ redeemable or that he’s simply writing Touya as “always being a bad seed” are missing the mark. This is, admittedly, something you see a lot when it comes to victims of abuse in the real world as well; the idea that if you weren’t physically or sexually abused on top of emotional or mental abuse, your abuse is somehow less “valid.” Now I’ve seen more voices speaking out against this mentality - which is relieving and positive - but it’s still a problem. The way Touya was abused is no less valid or scarring to himself as a person as what Shoto has been through was. Touya and Enji clearly had a deep bond as father and son. Hell, the fact that Enji is sobbing and saying he “can’t fight his own son” in regards to Touya, but clearly had less issue training Shoto until he got ill or passed out says a lot.

Touya was put on an incredibly high pedestal by Enji’s constant praise and attention. He was the apple of his father’s eye until the limitations of his Quirk were discovered. Enji had filled his head with promises and goals for what his future would be, essentially selling him what turned out to be a lie. We see Rei herself tell Enji that Touya “knows you expect something out of the kids.” Touya’s whole life up until that point was being told of all the great he would someday accomplish, and equating that to being deserving of his Father’s love, attention and affection.

And then he couldn’t live up to that expectation. And then his parents had two more kids following that revelation. The idea that Touya doesn’t realize that Natsuo and Shoto were meant to be his replacements - unbroken models that “deserved” Enji’s love - is clearly not missed by him. It’s evident in the way he looks at Natsuo after he’s born. He sees this as a sign that he is no longer deserving - no longer worthy - of love or support from the parent he absolutely adores.

We see this mostly from Enji and Rei’s perspectives, so we know the reasons they did it, but it’s clear they didn’t stop to think about the way this would be interpreted by Touya himself. This whole matter is only worsened by the fact that Enji refuses to make sacrifices for the sake of his oldest son. He pushes Touya to live a life outside of Pro Heroics while Enji himself refuses to do the same, thus setting a positive example and showing solidarity with his son. He instead pushes him away and distances himself, loses himself in focusing on Natuso and, once his Quirk turns out to not be what he wants, Shoto. Touya continues to push himself despite his limits in a desperate bid for Enji to look at him the way he used to; with pride and love.

What caused the fire that “killed” Touya? His anguish over being neglected and abandoned - left unloved - by his father yet again. It’s clear that Touya’s mental health is in need of some real focus that he has never gotten - due to both his parents negligence as well as the fact that mental health is highly stigmatized in Japanese society - and pairing that with the emotional and mental abuse he suffered at Enji’s hands broke him.

So many people are claiming Horikoshi is trying to make Enji “more redeemable”, but how do you get that? Enji abused Rei, his own wife, physically and emotionally and mentally until she had a psychotic breakdown, hurt their youngest child, and then robbed her the right to mother her children further by having her locked up in a psych ward for the next decade or so; built their oldest son, Touya, up only to then emotionally and mentally abuse him to the point he damn near killed himself in a frantic bid to garner Enji’s support only to return years later completely unhinged and looking to murder his entire family out of spite; neglected Fuyumi and Natsuo to the care of each other and hired help; alienated Shoto, his youngest son, from his siblings for his entire formative years, physically and mentally and emotionally abused him, groomed him to accomplish a task he never wanted, put him through such extensive physical training that Shoto would get sick or pass out.

Enji was a shitty father. He has a long ass road to continue walking if he ever wants redemption. The fact he didn't physically hit Touya doesn’t mean that Enji didn’t abuse his son and it doesn’t make Touya any less of a victim.

* End TodoFam Rant*

On a slightly lighter note, I also like all the information with Hawks’ past and all the parallels we’re seeing develop!

I’ve rambled briefly about this in other places the Huwumi discord but I want to expound upon this a bit more here.

I feel like Touya/ Dabi and Keigo/ Hawks are meant to be parallels to one another.

Back to back, we had proper name claims by these two characters. We had Dabi reveal his true identity as Todoroki Touya and then we have Hawks choosing to abandon his hero name to instead step up to fight as Takami Keigo.

I feel like “Dabi” was always a mask, of sorts. Dabi is typically pretty calm, cool, composed with the occasional bites of snark and cruelty. Meanwhile, we see Touya emoting and moving in a manner more akin to himself as a child, dancing about in manic delight over revealing his true identity and intentions. The pair of them are two drastically different people when you stop and look at it. “Dabi” was the mask he wore to gain ground to enact his revenge, and now that he is there? Now Touya can burn everything tethered to it down to ground.

Meanwhile, we have "Hawks” as he was forced to become as per the Hero Public Safety Commission. We had it revealed quite a while back that Hawks was a man of many faces, jumping from laid-back and chill to serious and focused quite frequently. “Hawks” is the presentation for the public and the Commission, groomed to be the perfect little canary in the mine that was Pro Heroics. The reveal of his true heritage, however, is not the killing blow Touya wanted it to be. Instead, it allows Keigo, the one who wanted to be a Hero to help people, the chance to truly dedicate himself to that. In being freed from the cage of “Hawks”, he is given the change to really soar as Keigo.

Now, I feel that “Dabi” and “Hawks” are most certainly parts of Touya and Keigo as well, respectively. Even though those titles were masks, they were masks made from parts of the men who wear them. I think what we’ll see going forward is the true elements of those masks bleeding back into the whole, and seeing the truest forms of each character.

For better or for worse.

#crumbles grumbles #half baked headcanons #Wow I haven't busted that tag out in fuckin forever #Might have to do more headcanon posts about BNHA #If any of yall wanna read me ramble about that stuff?#BNHA Spoilers

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pynkhues · 5 years ago

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You're such a good writer. Have you ever thought about writing professionally? :)

Ah! Thank you, anon! You’re so sweet!

I actually do write professionally. It’s forever a weird thing to say, haha, but I’m an award-winning short fiction writer, and have had over 15 original stories published in journals, anthologies and collections. (Also actually just found out I’m having another one published this week, which means I’ve got three stories already coming out this year, which is exciting!) I’ve also written a few novel manuscripts that have been shortlisted for prizes, but haven’t been published yet, and have a screenplay that has been optioned by a production company, but hasn’t yet been turned into a movie.

Unfortunately, there is not a lot of money in any of those things, haha, at least not in Australia, and I grew up pretty poor, so I also work as both a gun for hire / freelance writer, writing everything from utility manuals to child safety policies and procedures, to product descriptions for various online stores, as well as at a theatre company which makes interactive works for disadvantaged children.

But yes!

I’m actually currently working on a new novel manuscript which is set against the backdrop of Houdini’s tour of Australia in 1910, and how during that tour he became the first person to fly a plane in Australia. The novel itself though is actually a mystery novel about a woman investigating her grandfather’s (who was a magician) strange death, and how she ends up sort of accidentally teaming up with an American journalist who’s out in Australia reporting on Houdini’s tour.

You can have a little excerpt, if you’d like!

“Mrs. Hathaway?” Joe asks, and Alma laughs, but it’s empty, even to her own ears.

“I was, I suppose. Once.”

If Joe has any thoughts about the matter, he keeps his face carefully blank. Instead, he lifts his scotch glass, swirls the liquid like a God does a muddy river in the palm of his clean hand. Before them, the fire crackles – lit for the cool desert night, and only serving to stifle the day’s stagnant heat. There are certain customs that are hard to shake, she thinks, and she pinches the sleeves of her sweaty blouse and thinks that any real place, accustomed to this heat, would never ask this constriction of its people.

In front of the fire, moths and beetles fly, a haphazard array of insects, crashing into one another, fleeing, crashing all over again. The realisation of it is not one that Alma especially cares for, but she keeps it in her head all the same. The way the flames cast their light across the glossy shells of the insects.

“I don’t want to pry,” Joe says suddenly, and Alma tilts her head towards him. Takes in his careful, downcast expression, his careful, downturned lips.

“I rather think you do,” she says, as gently as she can manage it. “You don’t have to be so careful, really. There’s no fantastic story to tell, and no particularly extraordinary tragedy about the matter. I was married, and now I am not.”

Joe looks at her then, properly, for perhaps the first time since Mr. Wellesley called her name across the gathering all those days ago. His eyes are so green, it almost surprises her.

“See, I’m not entirely sure I believe that,” he replies, and Alma laughs, dropping her head forwards and reaching for her own conspiring cup.

“Last I checked, I was not your story.”

Joe tilts his head, back and forth, as if weighing up her statement, a shadow of that familiar smile ghosting his lips.

“Perhaps I undersold your character.”

“Perhaps you did.”

The insects are growing in volume, if not size. Their wings a light catching gauze in the throes of this deep night. Vaguely, Alma can hear patrons on the floor above them, stepping the long corridors of the hotel, their laughs and their slurs and their missteps like a play across the stage of her head. And if they are, then perhaps she is to Mr. Goddard, she supposes. She sighs.

“You are aware that I worked as a governess in one of the northern houses?”

Joe nods, quickly, briskly, leaning ever so slightly forwards in his seat.

“Mr. Hathaway was a groundsman at the same house. He’d served in the Boer War, and from the stories I’d heard, not all of him had made it back.”

She swirls the scotch around in her own glass, watching the amber liquid mouth up the sides of her cup.

“That is not uncommon,” Joe says quietly. “At least, not of the men I know who have served.”

“No, of course not,” Alma says, shaking her head. “And that’s not entirely what I meant. I suppose I never knew him before it, and so the man I met was the only man I knew. He was kind and he was quiet, tormented, but I know a lot of tormented folk, so it was not unusual to me. We did not fall in love exactly, but - - I liked him. And I rather think he liked me, and perhaps that could have become love. I don’t know.”

She pauses, lost, for a moment, in her own memories of a man who had, for a very brief time, become the most important part of her life. It’s as if a tent has been erected inside her, forcing aside her bones and her organs, allowing unwelcome feelings to sleep within her. Alma sighs.

“He shot himself. About a year after we were married.”

She finishes her scotch.

Beside her, Joe is quiet, still turning over the glass in his hands, letting the liquid roll up the sides, warm between his skin and the fire. He brings it to his nose, inhales deeply, but does not take a sip. It’s unexpected, unusual, perhaps, but she had been warned about the strange habits of Americans, and of this, this seems like one of Joe’s lesser ones.

“I rather think you’ve done what many thought impossible,” Joe muses quietly. “And rendered me speechless.”

She laughs, and Joe weighs her with a careful, considering look.

“Oh, Mr. Goddard, if only I knew the key to that was a few well-timed words of my own.”

He laughs, but his face remains shadowed, uncertain, and she puts her own glass down on the floor and reaches her hands for his free one. He gives it freely, and she turns it over in hers, running her fingers, still damp from her glass, across the palm of his freckled hand.

“You know, back when I was a part of my grandfather’s act, I would put on a shawl and read palms as the opener.”

He laughs again, a gentler one this time, scrunching up his nose in a way that reminds her that they are both so young still. So young to have felt this much. He leans back, almost embarrassed, but Alma follows him.

“Hm,” she hums, stroking a finger down his palm. A part of her knows this is improper, a young, widowed woman, without gloves, touching the skin of a young, unwedded man, but for now, there’s nothing in the world that feels more proper than this.

“This,” she says, her voice donning the vague, European accent she’d wear during her shows. “This is your lifeline.”

She taps it once, twice, three times.

“It’s long,” and it is. Very long, stretching around the heel of his hand and curling at the base. “You’ll live a long life.”

Joe sits up a little straighter, leaning forwards in his own chair.

“A good life?”

“That, unfortunately, is not something the palms can easily tell.”

He chuckles, a breathy one, spreading his fingers better in her hand, as if offering better access to the lines of him, and Alma swallows thickly.

The weight of a hand in hers is not foreign to her, but somehow Joe’s feels both too heavy and impossibly light. Feels - -

Well.

Just feels, she supposes.

She turns his hand over in her own, looking at the long, graceful lines of it, the fresh dirt beneath his nails, the cricks in his skin that tell her everything and nothing.

“Your hands are long,” she says, running her thumb across his knuckles, relishing in the warmth it spreads through her chest. “And thin. Which means you’re loyal, and that you’re kind, and you’re thumb bends out, so you’re generous too. But,” and she tuts then, amused, shaking her head. “Your fingernails. They’re short and round, which means you’re a gossip.”

He hoots at that, like she’d thought he might, and a smile paints her face as she opens his hand again in hers. She can feel him then, leaning closer, his breath on the back of her head, shifting her sweat-damp hair.

She uncurls his hand in hers, moving her thumbs from the heel of his hand up towards the tips of his long, arching fingers. She can feel the pulse in them, the flutter of it just below the veil of his thin skin.

“Your head line is short, which means you are impulsive, but it curves down slightly, which means you are gentle.”

She can feel Joe getting closer, shifting beneath her hands, moving nearer to her in his seat, until his whole body is curved towards her. Her own breath picks up, the fire before them suddenly too hot. Hotter than it has felt before. She brushes a hand back through her hair. Tries to stroke any knot from it. Free it from its bindings. She must be quiet too long, for the next question Joe asks, is: “Are there any more?”

Alma blinks, feels the sweat building at her lashes, tries to blink them free.

“Your heart line,” she says, and she can feel more than see Joe smile. “It starts before your index finger, and it’s deep. Which means you fall in love quickly, but that you love intensely.”

He hums, a small sound like an agreement, and Alma touches the rough flat of her thumb to the softness of his palm, and she remembers all the ways she wasn’t made for this man. That Joe - - that Mr. Goddard - - that he might be a working man in the bowels of New York City, but as far as the rough, dirty middle of Queensland is, he’s an upper class boy with no idea as to the gruelling design of this land. He was built for the tamed, not the wild, and he is not Alma. He is not a desperate, writhing snake trying to find family in the desert that has loved her and abandoned her and made her whole, nor the tropics which have weathered her skin, and shed her bare beneath the tempest of its moods. He will marry a good, American girl with a good, American dowry, and a quick wit and a smart look, and the wild of this trip, and the wild of Alma, will become a story he will tell friends at bars, if it even becomes that.

She pulls away, dropping his hand, and ignoring the way he tries to chase her.

“There will be someone worthy of that hand, some day,” she says instead, rising from her seat, a quiver in her legs that surprises her. “Sadly, this is where I must leave you, Mr. Goddard. I am rather tired, all of a sudden, and know we have a rather monstrous day ahead of us, if we are to make it back down to Marigold’s before the dusk.”

She turns, moving promptly towards the stairs leading up to their rooms, and she hears the scrape of the chair across the floorboards behind her, and the calling of her name - names, Miss Rivers first, and then Mrs Hathaway and then suddenly, strikingly, Alma, and she picks up her pace away from him before she can even consider that it is the first time she has heard her name at his lips.

#my writing #welcome to my ama

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blacktofade · 6 years ago

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Back-to-back anons asking for bottom!Shane? Firstly, I feel blessed. Secondly, I hope y’all are okay being lumped together ilu both.

“Say hi,” Ryan says, holding up his phone. It's set to record and Ryan has to adjust his grip because he accidentally got lube on it earlier and the edges are still a little slick.

“To who? Your mom?”

Shane's resting a forearm over his eyes, but he drags it away to meet Ryan's gaze. His face is flushed and his hair is a tangled mess.

“Hey,” Ryan complains. “You've met my mom.”

“And she’s a very lovely woman, but if she sees this, she will hire a hitman to take me out.”

“I'm the one recording,” Ryan points out. “Plus, she likes you.”

Shane hums thoughtfully and says, “Probably not enough to want to see my dick, though.”

“This isn't for — ” Ryan starts before realizing Shane's already laughing because he's successfully distracted him. “This is for us.”

“Thought you said this is for you for when I'm out of town next week.”

“Same thing.”

There's a pause as Ryan takes a moment to just watch Shane breathe, and through the phone's screen, the skin of his chest looks as soft as it feels beneath Ryan's other hand.

“Is this what turns you on?” Shane jokes and Ryan pans the phone down to take in the way Shane’s cock rests heavily on his stomach, hard and wet with lube. There’s a pillow tucked under Shane’s hips, keeping him at the perfect angle, and Ryan’s pressed inside him as deep as he can get. “You haven’t moved in five minutes and I’m feeling like a glorified cock warmer.”

The phone shakes as Ryan laughs and he pans back up to take in Shane’s soft expression — clearly not actually annoyed.

“You’ll have to update your business cards,” Ryan laments and the phone shakes again, but this time as Shane takes it from him.

“I don’t want to watch myself,” Ryan complains, holding his hand up to block the lens as Shane points it at him, but Shane just shifts it to the side instead.

“I need something to watch next week, too.”

“You already have a video of me,” Ryan points out because he remembers it fondly; Shane had accidentally chafed his dick during the long weekend Ryan had been away after they'd filmed it because he'd jerked off too much. Ryan maintains that he still hasn't ever laughed as hard as he had when Shane had quietly admitted it.

“Something new,” Shane amends, the phone shifting as he reaches down to touch himself.

Ryan doesn't actually have a good rebuttal, but not holding the phone means he can grip Shane's hips as he rocks slowly against him. Shane makes a soft noise of agreement like Ryan's actually said something and shifts one thigh further out, letting the camera see where Ryan's fucking into him.

There's something about being filmed that presses at the back of Ryan's mind. He knows there's a reason why he makes videos for the internet and thrives on feedback, whether it's positive or not. He loves what he does, but knows there's an element of narcissism that keeps him coming back for more. And now, he gives a little extra wiggle because he knows what Shane likes and knows what he’ll enjoy watching again and again.

“Does that feel good?” Ryan murmurs, smoothing his hands along Shane’s thighs where he knows the camera can see. Shane grunts, like speaking is just too much effort, and his cock jerks visibly. “What do you want? If you’re gonna rewatch this next week, what do you want to see?”

Shane drops his head back to the pillow and the hand holding Ryan’s phone tilts sideways, no longer trying to record Ryan’s thrusts. Ryan grabs his wrist and pulls it back upright. The footage might end up being jerky and out of focus, but it gets the point across.

“Don’t stop recording,” he warns and Shane grunts again, this time sounding pained.

“Ryan,” he tries, but goes silent.

“That’s why I should be the one with the camera.”

He gently takes the phone again and flips it around to point down at where Shane’s sprawled, his hand moving on his dick like it's all he knows how to do.

“Look at you,” Ryan says, keeping his thrusts slow and steady. “You look real fucking good.”

Shane already has a flush on his face from exertion, but it deepens at Ryan’s words and Ryan knows how much he likes this.

“How does it feel?”

“You tell me,” Shane grits out, because it’s clear he’s enjoying it. There’s a smudge of precome across his lower belly and he’s twisting his fingers around the tip of his cock like he’s already close to letting go.

“Next time I want you on your hands and knees.”

Shane grunts, clenching around Ryan like he can’t help it, and Ryan finds himself losing another piece of his carefully maintained control.

“I wish I could keep you like this.”

Ryan leans down to press his lips to Shane’s collarbone, belatedly realizing that he’s accidentally filming nothing but the sheets, but Shane shifts to kiss the side of Ryan’s head, like he doesn’t mind at all.

“Fuck,” Shane grunts and Ryan can feel the way his hand speeds up because Shane’s knuckles brush his stomach with each slide.

He uses every ounce of willpower to sit back up, knowing he can’t miss the best bit. He holds his phone as steady as he can, gaze darting between the screen and what’s actually happening in front of him as Shane’s expression tightens, his brows furrowing.

“Ryan,” he pleads, but Ryan just keeps the same pace, knowing that’s exactly what Shane needs.

He only has to wait a moment and then Shane’s mouth is falling open and he’s coming over the back of his hand and the flat of his stomach. He looks so hot that Ryan can barely stand it. He can’t believe he gets this. He gets to see Shane fall apart because of what he’s doing, and he’ll get to rewatch it on his phone until he manages to end up like Shane with a chafed dick.

He pushes into Shane only a few more times before he pulls out and jerks himself off the last few strokes to come across Shane’s softening cock, making sure to get it in the shot because it’s one hell of a sight and he thinks Shane will enjoy it later. He feels wrung out and exhausted, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You really do look good like that,” Ryan says and Shane shifts beneath him.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one lubed up and sticky.”

Ryan laughs and sets a hand on Shane’s hip, rubbing gently and being careful to avoid the mess.

“How do you feel?”

“Fucked,” Shane grunts, pushing his clean fingers through his hair, making it stand on end even worse than before.

Ryan smiles and continues recording as he stares down at him.

“I love you,” he says and Shane makes a face.

“Gross,” he jokes, but reaches out to set a hand on Ryan’s knee. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“I’ll have this to keep me company,” Ryan points out, finally ending the video and tossing his phone to the side to find later once they’re covered in fewer bodily fluids.

Carefully, Shane pulls him down and kisses him softly.

“Love you, too,” he says and Ryan smiles against his mouth.

#shyan #thing wot i wrote #bfu prompts 2019 #fic #don't read at work #lovely anon #answer #bfu

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yourfaveisyanderematic · 5 years ago

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2! 6! 10! 13-14; 24; 44-45; and 49!! Please do whatever amount you are comfortable with - but I'm glad you've decided to receive questions from this numbered post too!

Man you just went absolutely nuts with this one, huh Nice.

THIS GOT LONG; I’m gonna try to put it under a cut but you know how Tumblr.Hell has been to me, lately. Maybe it’s in protest about all the horny content I’ve been writing.

Things that motivate you.

I’m always super stoked when I read something really good, or see an interesting scene in a film or show! Whenever I see or hear an idea that goes “wow, that’s such a fresh and intense element of horror”, I get a really strong urge to work. Sometimes it’s enough to make me throw all priority out the window as I struggle to capture an idea before it gets away from me, which is why y’all still haven’t seen that god damn Narancia fic. I’m working on it, I swear.

It goes without saying, but knowing that people enjoyed something I wrote--especially if I’m insecure about it--also makes me really happy, and I get another burst of energy to write something for people. Comment on fics, guys! Tell authors you like their stuff! You’ll get more!

How did writing change you?

I consider things more analytically and find myself trying to work out how I’d describe a particular emotion, or sensation or experience. It’s also given me a better appreciation for the work of others! I tend to pick up on things I like or dislike about a work and better articulate why I feel that way, and then dissect the author’s approach and their strengths in conveying things. It’s like an English class, but far more fun!

How do you do your researches?

I get the idea for a fic, sit down and write it, and then as I start describing how a character’s thrown through a wall go “...wait a moment. Would drywall realistically be used in the construction of a house at this place and time?”, which turns into an hour-long rabbit hole where I learn all about Midwestern architecture instead of writing. Other times I’m dissatisfied with my own understanding of things and have to spend some time running several iterations of a medical (sometimes suspicious) question to get accounts from people who experienced the injury, or a doctor’s opinion on what’s likely to happen. FBI Agent-chan, I promise I’m not actually going to feed someone lye! I just want to know some things about what would happen, if I theoretically did. Theoretically.

Hardest character to write?

*Narancia materializes behind my shoulder like the ghost of a murdered Victorian child*

...good characters. I should say, it’s incredibly difficult for me to write heart-of-gold ultra goodboys like Okuyasu as the antagonist of a horror fic! There are characters who are generally good-aligned but are more than willing to get their hands dirty to get a job done, and there are characters I just really have a hard time seeing hurt people, so I avoid them if I can’t think of a good angle. I can’t--maybe won’t, it’s all the same thing with my Hell Fuck Brain--write something if it doesn’t feel in character, and I avoid doing pure/straight fluff on this blog.

Easiest character to write?

KIRA. I used to be pretty interested in true crime and serial killers (a fact that should surprise absolutely nobody), and of all JJBA’s villains he’s very...human, in the way that we have plenty of real-life people with his motivations and deeds, if not his exploding housecat. I really enjoy dissecting his psychology, because he exposes a lot about his worldview in only a few interactions with women. Anyway, writing him comes very easily to me, because I understand him.

Favorite scene you’ve ever written?

Why, Anon, I don’t know what you mean! I love all my scenes equally!

*later* ...I don’t care much for [you’ll never know]

I actually had to think about this one for a moment, because I actually don’t think about my scenes too much once I’m done with them. Always looking to the next thing to write, I guess lmao. If I had to pick a favorite, though, I’d definitely say it’s the Doppio scene. I’ve got a soft spot for that one because of the research that went into it (that ultimately ended up meaning VERY little lmao) and the muted horror and agony that I think really defined what I wanted to do with this blog. I think I tended to veer more towards psychological horror than body horror since then....until this month, anyway. Lmao.

Do you write linear or do you write future scenes if you feel like it?

It’s very difficult for me to start a fic ‘in the middle’. If I’ve got a good middle bit, I’ll sit on it and sit on it until I think of a good way to get there, and it’s not until I have the beginning that I actually start. Not because I want to, that’s just how my brain works lmao. I tend to keep most of my writing in my head (drafts WHO? Outlines WHAT? Don’t know her, bitch!), so the future scenes I have just stay there and keep developing until I’ve got the scope of the fic all set.

Share the synopsis of a story you work on that you haven’t published yet.

"Company Man”

Haha, what if I wrote a Modern/Office AU...just kidding...

unless...? Trouble-prone Reader-Chan is a new hire at Brando and Associates, where they discover a whole new definition of ‘cutthroat’ as they immediately get enmired in brutal office politics of unbelievable scope. The salary’s great, but the workload is...shall we say, murder.

Writing advice?

Play Dnd. Specifically, run DnD...or any tabletop storytelling game, really, there are plenty of systems that focus on storytelling and don’t really care about dice. I understand that this might require you to be a little more social than the advice you were expecting, but doing so is going to really help you with:

Flexibility. You must adapt to what your players unexpectedly do--there’s no way to prepare for every outcome--and still make a story that’s coherent and interesting. You have to learn that your characters--not your plot--is the king of your story, and sometimes they’re going to take things in a direction you didn’t plan on. ‘Yes, and’ or ‘Yes, but’ is going to become your best friends, and this strategy will be a big help when you feel like you’re in a writing roadblock because your characters won’t do this or that!

Feedback. A story has to be engaging first, deep and profound or whatever second. Players will be able to immediately tell you ‘hey, this is fun’ or ‘hey, this isn’t cool’, and by playing with different people you’ll be able to catch weaknesses in your storytelling style sooner, and also get a better feel for what you just enjoy doing.

Also, write. Even if it’s bad. There’s a post on tumblr with this example, but it’s better to make a hundred shitty pots and improve each time than it is to wait and make a really good pot that could have been way better with the time you spent waiting to perfect it.

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lailannajacobs · 6 years ago

Text

The Distance

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Request: Y/N's job involves a lot of traveling, she organizes massive events all over the world. Her boyfriend, Bucky, saves the world, traveling for his missions. She's scared that with the little time they have for each other, he will start resenting her, given that his job is clearly more important. He doesn't even realize that she could ever fear that he could leave her.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: tiny bit of violence

A/N: Thank you anon for the prompt, I hope this is at least a little bit what you were hoping to see! Tried writing this in third person instead, what do we think? Anyways, hope you enjoy!!

Last week was Madrid. This week, England. Next, Tokyo. She had no idea where Bucky was though. It was classified. She figured she might eventually see it on the news but for now, all she knew was that he was risking his life for the world’s safety. Trying not to worry too much about him, she flipped through her guest list binder, skimming the names.

But trained soldier or not, she would always worry about his safety. She couldn’t help it.

She brought her attention back to the list. She had to stay focused. She was in charge of organizing the big reveal of a newfound painting stolen by the Nazis during the second world war. The British Museum had paid heavily for the painting and intended to create a new exhibition celebrating another discovery. They would spare no expense to make sure everything was perfect, which is why they had come to her to organize the unveiling. She was one of the best. But even after years of traveling the world as one of the most renowned event planners, she still felt the pressure of trying to pull off a seamless night.

She should have been doing something more productive like checking in with the catering company to make sure that the hors d’oeuvres were exactly as she had ordered but, phone in her hand, the only person she wanted to call was Bucky.

The last time they had seen each other had been weeks ago. It had been one of those few lucky breaks when they were working jobs in the same city at the same time. It hadn’t been so lucky when they realized they had barely had two days together. They would have had longer if she hadn’t had to jet off to New York. One of them always had somewhere else to be. But at least whenever he left, it was because the world needed him. She only left for glorified parties.

Before (Y/N) had met Bucky, work had been her sole focus, booking jobs left and right so that she never spent more than a couple weeks in the same city. She had been to so many countries it was hard to keep track of where she was. Her apartment had been empty for so long, she doubted it was worth it to keep it, especially that whenever she did have time off, she was usually wherever Bucky was. But she loved her job. She had always believed that these events, no matter how superficial some of them might have been, were perfect for forgetting the world’s horrors, even for one night. Her favourites were the ones that paid tribute to something greater than just one person. They were her hardest jobs because she didn’t dare let anyone down but once they came to life, they were what she was most proud of.

But at the end of the day, she couldn’t help but compare what she did to what he did. He saved the world. How could he think that what she did was worth making their relationship so much more complicated? The longer they were apart, the more and more the thought echoed through her head.

Sure they could call each other or video chat whenever they had time but more often than not, something else got in the way and they were cut short. When it was the sound of an alarm it felt necessary. When it was her assistant asking her what colour she thought the napkins should be it seemed a little trivial.

She never wanted to compromise what she loved for a relationship by giving up her job, which constantly made her wonder if Bucky thought she prioritized her job over him. Did he resent her for that? Logically she knew he wasn’t that kind of guy but if she had already thought about it, what were the chances he hadn’t?

She shook the thoughts out of her head. It was the day before the exhibition. She needed to get to work. (Y/N) stood up and walked to the full length mirror in her hotel room, checked her make-up and smoothed out her dress.

“He doesn’t care that you don’t always have time to see each other.” She lied to the woman in the mirror. She needed to reassure someone. “This is what it’s like being an adult. You just have to deal with it.”

The woman in the mirror smiled. It was obviously forced but at least it was there. Maybe if she repeated those words often enough she would come to believe it.

“Did you hear?” Bucky asked Steve as they ducked behind an empty transport container. “They found a painting stolen during the war.”

They were in a shipyard off the coast of Denmark and, like the few other times James Buchanan Barnes had been to the country, it was cold and muddy. Why more criminals couldn’t hide out on sunny beaches was beyond him.

Steve glanced back as they made there way along the edge of the rusted metal, guns out. “Sure it’s not a fake? I always get weirded out when something like that just appears out of nowhere.”

Bucky smirked. “It’ll be in London, you can see it for yourself. (Y/N)’s organizing the event.”

He couldn’t help but bring her up. Just the thought of her put a smile on his face and right now, soaked through from the rain, he could use something to take his mind off of things.

“Nice.” They paused at the corner, making sure the space was clear before sprinting to the next container. “Do you think you can make it?”

“Depends how fast we get this over with.”

He put a hand on Steve’s shoulder and pointed to the crouched man on the top of a nearby container.

The had been following a trail of goons in the hopes that they would lead to a far right scientist, Ketch, intent on blowing up Leftist political leaders. They hadn’t yet confirmed who Ketch was working with but stopping him was their top priority. Any other information they could gleam was important but not imperative. Getting him alive was even better.

They trailed the man from below, Steve keeping a eye out on ground level while Bucky directed their course. They were two containers from the water when they ran into a soldier. Steve had him in a headlock, chocking the air out of him before Bucky had even taken his eyes off of the figure in black above. They had to be close. If he was lucky, it would be quick and he would be in London before tomorrow evening.

Everything was perfect. For now. This was the part of event planning (Y/N) hated the most. It was the calm before the storm. It was the one moment where everything was going right before, something, sometimes many things, went wrong. Most people assumed that this would be her favourite moment because of how perfect everything was but she hated it. She wanted to get it over with so she could get to fixing whatever was going to inevitably need fixing. Fixing things and planning things, calmed her. Knowing there was a flaw - knowing he probably resented her for prioritizing her job - made her insides twist into knots.

She forced her thoughts back to her job but there was nothing she could focus on. Everything was perfect. All she had to was wait for the guests to arrive. She tried not to pick at the dark red nail polish and smiled at a passing waiter. When the event planner looked worried, everyone under her employ worried too. They had no way of knowing that it was her relationship and not the exhibition that was driving her crazy so she couldn’t let any of her emotions show. Everything needed to be perfect.

She had thought about calling Bucky last night but didn’t. It wasn't like she could anyways. He would never be stupid enough to have his phone on him while doing something that dangerous. At least he had better not be.

It was hard to tell whether or not she was getting in her own head. She wanted to tell herself that she was overthinking things and that it was the distance that was making her inspect every conversation she had had with Bucky while they were apart. She wanted to say that she was crazy. But what she really was, was scared. Scared that every worry running through her mind was real. Scared that he resented her for spending so much time on her job. Scared that it wouldn’t be long before she was single again.

Being single had never bothered her. Actually, she had liked it. She had expected to stay single, getting by with casual relationships. What she hadn’t been expecting was Bucky.

“I don’t need you wandering around the halls wasting my time. The lead chef needs you in the kitchen. Now.” (Y/N) barked, placing a hand on her hip.

This was one of those jobs where nothing seemed to go right. She didn’t need her waiters wandering around the halls, analyzing the paintings. They had plenty of other things to be doing. When he didn’t answer she went to tap him on the back. This was the last time she was hiring this company.

He turned, a strand of chin length hair falling across a stubbled jaw. His lips spread slowly, the corner of his blue-grey eyes crinkling. He cocked his head.

“Oh.” She tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “You’re not a waiter…”

“No, not a waiter. But I can’t imagine that you’re anything but the boss around here.”

She crossed her arms. “Why do you say that?”

He quirked a brow. “You ordered me into the kitchen like an army general.”

“I did n-” She saw the look on his face. “I did.”

He chuckled and extended his hand in the little space between them. “Nice to meet you general.”

His hand engulfed hers. “Nice to meet you?”

“Bucky.”

Bucky ran his hand over the array of papers strewn across the desk. They hadn’t found Ketch but were in his office, combing through the plans he left behind in his hurry to escape.

“How’d he know we were coming?” Steve asked, flipping through blueprints for something neither of them could really decipher.

Ketch had taken his laptop but Bucky rifled through the drawers hoping to find something they could use to find him. “The fact that we killed a bunch of his body guards probably gave him a pretty good heads up.”

Steve thought about it for a second, pursed his lips and nodded his agreement. They continued their search, hoping to find anything useful. They were about to leave when Bucky spotted it. “Wait!”

Steve froze, a stack of papers in his hand, a brow raised.

He stalked over in a few quick steps and grabbed the stack. Flipping it around he saw the painting he had looked at more than once in the last week.

He raised his eyes to Steve’s, “This is the stolen painting.”

Steve grabbed the papers. His eyes ticked from side to side frantically. “Buck, it’s a fake.”

“What’s a fake?”

“The painting. The painting’s a fake. Britain’s Prime Minister is gong to be there. It’s not a painting, it’s a bomb.” The papers crumpled in his hands.

“That means…”

Bucky couldn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to. They were out of the office, Steve barking orders into the coms. London was an hour behind Denmark but the event was already started. They wouldn’t make it in time. His heart hammered in his chest. He gripped his gun but there was nothing he could shoot. There was nothing he could do.

“Somebody call her.”

“Barnes we don’t contact civilians in situations like this. It would-”

“Call her.” He growled into the com.

The sound of laughter and clinking of glasses mixed with the orchestra playing in the corner of the exhibition hall as (Y/N) watched from her spot in the back doorway, a smile on her face. So far, the night was a success. Men and women decked out in their finest formal wear mingled, glasses of champagne in their hands, awaiting the star of the night. It was a celebration. They had recovered another one.

She knew she couldn’t stay here much longer. As much as she might dress and look like one, she wasn’t a guest. She had a job to do. She opened her clutch and reached for her phone but there wasn’t anything in there other than her lipstick, credit cards and cash. She fumbled around in the bag, her heart pounding. On a perfect night she only needed to use her phone a couple of times after the event started. You couldn’t get better than perfect. She needed that phone.

Assuming that she had dropped it on the floor, short of crawling on her hands and knees, there was nothing she could do. She hurried into the kitchen, to check on her caterers before going off to find the Prime Minister. (Y/N) cursed the long red dress she wore, annoyed by its restrictive material. After weaving through the endless crowd, she stopped beside the Minister and some celebrity, and waited for a break in their conversation. She glanced at her watch. As long as she had the painting unveiled in the next ten minutes, everything would be fine, regardless of the lost phone.

“Mrs. Prime Minister, if you could follow me to the painting, we’re ready for you for the unveiling.” She pasted on a smile, one she knew looked more genuine than it felt.

Happy event planner, happy event.

The minister nodded and followed her to the centre of the room where the painting lay roped off. Her assistant, mercifully on time, handed her a microphone to give to the guest of honour. “Whenever you’re ready m’am.”

Before she could step into the roped area, two body guards surrounded the prime minister and whispered something into her ear. The microphone was handed back to (Y/N) and they left without a word, the prime minister in tow. Dread settled in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong. Something worse than what had been on her mind for the past few days.

A museum guard jogged up to her, “we need you to tell everyone to evacuate in an orderly fashion.”

“I will. But wouldn’t an alarm be more effective?” She pointed out. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be the one to disappoint her guests and send them home but she would do it if she had to. After all, she was in charge.

“Alerting the… paparazzi” his eyes darted to the painting. “Is the last thing we need at the moment.”

She nodded and tapped the microphone twice, “Good evening everyone. We’re experiencing difficulties at the moment and would need everyone to evacuate in a quick and orderly fashion.” She took a step towards the crowd. “for everyone’s safety we ask that you do so immediately.”

As people starting filing out, the buzz of their chatter filling the air, a crashing sound sent a jolt through her body. She whipped around. He was in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room. Why was he here? Bucky’s eyes found hers. They were filled with fear. Her heart dropped. He shot towards her. She took a step towards him but a massive boom knocked her off her feet and sent her colliding with something hard.

She couldn’t focus on anything, her ears ringing as she lay dazed on the ground. She was faintly aware of the screaming. Her entire left side felt like it was on fire. Something touched her face but everything was spinning. Somehow she managed to lift a hand to her cheek, only to feel it coated with something sticky. Something was heavy on top of her. She was so tired. She just wanted the ringing to stop. Piercing blue eyes blinked into focus but she couldn’t keep her eyes open. He might have been saying something. She didn’t know. She was so tired.

A slow, constant beeping welcomed her back to the world but she kept her eyes closed even though the pain was mostly gone. A flimsy sheet felt scratchy on the bare skin of her lower legs and arms and did nothing to keep her warm. The only warmth she was aware of was in her hand. She heard mumbling, a deep, familiar voice. She squeezed his hand.

“(Y/N)?”

Though they felt glued together, she managed to crack her eyes open. The room was bright, midday sun streaming through the window, making his eyes look so much bluer than usual. They searched her face and she wasn’t sure what they were looking for but when he let out a long sigh, she figured he must have been satisfied with his search.

She could hardly believe he was here. Where he was supposed to be, she couldn’t remember. She knew it wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t supposed to be here either. She was supposed to be…London. The beeping sped up. He wrapped his other hand around hers and brought the bundle to his mouth. It was an apology and a reassurance in one gesture. His thumb stroked her palm, back and forth until the beeping slowed to what it had been when she awoken. She had a feeling he was waiting for her to speak. She was okay. She would be okay. She would be okay because he had been there.

“Hi.” Her voice grated like sandpaper as if she hadn’t spoken in days. Maybe she hadn’t. How long had she been here?

His lips turned up slightly. “Hi.”

“What happened?”

“There was a bomb…We didn’t think…We tired to call…” He ran his fingers through his hair. Judging by its messy state, he had been doing it a lot while sitting there. “I’m sorry for blowing up your event.”

She tried to shrug but winced at the movement. “That’s okay. I’m okay. It wasn’t important.”

Despite having him here, her earlier fears came rushing back. Was he only here because he felt like he had to be?

“I know it’s not as important as the fact that you’re safe,” Her heart dropped. “But I know it was to you so I’m sorry.”

“Yeah but it’s silly…” She didn’t want him to have to hide the fact that her job was making everything so difficult. She was tired of being scared. Having seen what truly terrifying was, she realized she needed to talk to Bucky. Really talk to him. No matter the inevitable outcome. She had to do it.

He furrowed his brows. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you blame me?” She couldn’t look at him.

“Blame you for what?” He sounded genuinely confused as if it hadn’t been what he had expected her to say.

“You know what.”

“I really don’t (Y/N), what?”

“The fact that we never see each other!” Her shrill voice echoed in the room as she ripped her hand from his. She gulped in a deep breath. She couldn’t do this if she wasn’t thinking straight. “I mean… if I just gave up my job for local ones then we could see each other more often. You can’t tell me you don’t realize it’s my fault this relationship is so hard.”

He stayed silent, almost long enough for her to lift her eyes and tell him that he didn’t need to stay. “Do you blame me?”

The question surprised her. “No but-”

“But it doesn’t matter what I do and it doesn’t matter what you do.” He interrupted, once again taking her hand. “You love what you do. It’s incredible how much you love it. I love that about you and believe me, I would never hate you for it, you need to believe me.”

“You don’t?” She raised her eyes to meet his.

“Never. I’ve seen you work (Y/N). I’ve seen the little smile you get on your face when you know exactly where you’re going to place something I wouldn’t have thought was important or would have forgotten. It puts a smile on my face, even when I’m in the middle of hell somewhere, to think that you’re knee deep in fabrics in your hotel room, in one of my old t-shirts, trying to figure out…whatever it is… I don’t know exactly. If I knew you were bored, but with me, I wouldn’t forgive myself. And honestly, most of the time, I’m glad you’re safe somewhere else.” He rubbed his neck sheepishly.

She could see the sincerity in his eyes. His words eased the tension that had been eating at her for weeks. Their jobs wouldn’t tear them apart. Maybe one day they would drift apart - she prayed that never happened - but if it did, it would be because they became different people, not because they couldn’t make it work.

“Well you know, I was somewhere else but I wasn’t exactly safe.” Her poor attempt to lighten the mood made the corner of his lips tilt slightly. “So you’re okay with this?”

He cupped her face, “It never even crossed my mind that it wasn’t.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x you #fan fiction #fanfic #MCU fanfiction #bucky fanfic #prompt #writing

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fanfiction-writers · 6 years ago

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Lies and Discoveries Ch. 5

Pairing: Toshinori Yagi (All Might) x Reader

Words: 2k

Summary: You’ve been in a relationship with Toshinori Yagi for a while now, but you’re just now realizing that he’s been lying to you. Trying to get the truth out of the man is difficult when you can barely get ahold of him, let alone have a conversation with him...

A/N: For you Anon! ^_^ You weren’t rude at all! I forgot I didn’t put this on here... Hope you like it!

“What’s with all the extra security?” you ask as Toshinori meet for lunch. You noticed more heroes roaming around the school and this part of the city, and more of the hero teachers keeping an eye out while on campus.

“Some reporters got through into the campus the other day,” he explained, showing you to one of the lounges to eat. “Apparently someone with a quirk disintegrated the security fences.”

“Why would they…?”

Toshinori shrugged, holding the door open. “That’s why everyone’s keeping an eye out, we’re not sure. Figures it’d happen on my day off,” he muttered, feeling a little disappointed.

“Oh?” you ask, eye brow raised. The two of you had spent all day together yesterday just relaxing. You two hadn’t gotten to see much of the other lately other than meals, and maybe a sleepover or two. He’d sent you pictures of him with piles and piles of paperwork, with giant cups of tea and snacks laying on the table. For his day off, you had done nothing but relax. There was a picnic, followed by a movie Toshinori had wanted to see, and a walk on a nearby beach around the sunset. It was simple and perfect.

He stopped for a second, replaying what he said over again. “Not that yesterday wasn’t great!”

“I’m just teasing you, Yagi. It’s alright,” you tell him. “It is worrisome though. Who’d want to break into the school?”

He didn’t answer, instead looking out the windows towards the front of the school. Thankfully, the front gates had been quickly repaired, but if someone could just disintegrate it how long would it be until they did it again? Or worse?

Sure enough, worse came a few days later at Thirteen’s USJ building.

You had been going to an interview and had texted Toshinori beforehand. He was always so sweet asking how they went and to keep him updated, although you knew he didn’t quite know what to say when it went bad. It always made your heart feel warm when he tried, though a hug from him was usually enough to make you feel better.

You had discovered that finding a job was harder than you expected. Some places just weren’t hiring, some didn’t want to hire you because you’d go back to your job once your building got rebuilt. They didn’t want to have to go through the hiring process twice in several months’ time.

Just before you walk into the building, your phone buzzes with an incoming call from Recovery Girl. “Hey, where are you?” she asked, getting straight to the point.

“Just inside the city, not too far away from the school actually. Why?”

“Well… There was… an incident at the school, can you stop by? I’ll explain when you get here.”

There was something in her voice that had you turning towards the school at a run, interview forgotten. If Recovery Girl was asking for you then something big must have happened. The television screens around the city didn’t have anything yet, so it must not have gotten out whatever it was. A few ambulances and police sirens began wailing in the distance and you begin to feel uneasy. You rip off your heels to run quicker, getting to U.A. as fast as you can. Police cars and an ambulance fly by in the opposite direction, towards where you know the closest hospital was. What the hell happened?

Dread creeped through your veins, feeling like lead had settled in your stomach. Toshinori had better be okay!

There were a few of the other teachers and police officers outside the gates and they stopped you as you tried to go in. You try to explain that Recovery Girl called you, but they weren’t listening until the woman herself had to let you in.

“What happened?” you ask her, looking around. The children looked a little forlorn, each giving off various states of anxiety and shock, while some others felt a fierce determination. No one seemed harmed.

“There was a villain attack on the USJ. The students and the teachers were attacked violently. As bad as it is, I’m thankful it was mostly the teachers who were seriously hurt,” Recovery Girl told you, walking through the halls at a normal pace. She felt fairly normal, if a little tired, and didn’t seem to be in any hurry. “They’ve already taken the teachers to the hospital as quickly as they could, but there was a student along with Toshinori who got themselves hurt…”

“Toshinori’s hurt?” you freeze.

The shorter woman nods, not quite meeting your eyes. “I’ve fixed him up as good as I can for now, but he’ll need to take it easy for at least a day and see me another day or so.” She looks at you closely, pulling you along. “Don’t do anything rash, we don’t know much yet. And all the students were fine, that’s what we should be concerned about.”

“Nothing rash, got it,” you force a chuckle, a quiet rage simmering in your blood. If there was one thing you couldn’t stand, it was when people hurt others unnecessarily. Or worse, when someone hurt the few people you cared about. “Which room is he in?”

Recovery Girl sighed and opened her sliding door to her office. She let you run in, your eyes wandering over Toshinori as he laid in bed, feet hanging over the edge just a bit. He had wrappings all around his torso and a small bandage on his cheek, while the boy you had met before was settled into the other bed.

“Oh, uh, he-hey,” Toshinori tried to smile at you, pretending that he wasn’t laying in a hospital bed. “I promise I’m fine.”

“If you call this fine, we need to have another talk,” you say, trying to match his nonchalance but failing. You could feel he was tired and troubled about something but overall fine, so you let it go for now. Instead, you try not cry at how tired he looked. With the same weight in your stomach you sit on the bed next to him. You wanted to hug him, but considering he was wrapped in bandages, it didn’t sound like a good idea. “How are you faring?” you ask the boy; Midoriya if you remembered right.

“Oh! I-I’m fine! Or, at least, I will be,” he flashed you a shaky smile while looking at his arm. “Nice to see you again.”

You give the boy a weak smile, before looking at Toshinori. He grabs your hand, telling you that he was alright, really, but you weren’t buying it. There was something he wasn’t telling you, and if Recovery Girl couldn’t heal him all the way then the fight must’ve been intense. You weren’t even sure how he fought to get hurt to begin with. Although, you could see him jumping in to save students regardless of the danger he’d put himself in. That’s just the kind of good, heroic thing he’d do. You swore his good nature was going to get him seriously hurt one day.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and a detective came in. “Hey- oh! You have company,” he smiled. You get a generally good vibe from him using a bit of your quirk which put you at ease. He didn’t seem like he was bringing bad news. “I was just going to ask them some questions about today, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Toshinori answered. Then he looked at you, Midoriya, and the detective, worrying slightly. The other two felt slightly uncomfortable even though they had pleasant smiles. Fine, you could read the room without the help of your quirk.

“I’ll go find Recovery Girl,” you tell Toshinori, trying not to feel slighted by his wave of relief. “Text me later, or else I’ll worry.” You grab his hand and kiss the top of it, much to his embarrassment, as you leave. With one last look at Toshinori, you shut the door to give them some privacy.

Making your way through the halls around sunset gave the school a different feel. Although, it could just be everyone’s general apprehension for what transpired at the USJ. There were still heroes and staff walking around, trying to make sure the students got out alright, making sure to stay close and on alert. However, you still hadn’t found Recovery Girl.

“Hey, Present Mic!” you call, heading towards the man that was about to head out. You had met him a couple times throughout the years, but it had been a while. “Have you seen Recovery Girl?”

“No, I haven’t,” he told you, hand on his hip. “Last I saw, she was trying to get ahold of the hospital to get updates on the teachers who were hurt.”

He seemed a little shaken up, not being as animated and loud as he usually was. “Who all was hurt?”

“Just four of us: Thirteen and Aizawa were taken to the hospital, I haven’t heard anything yet. All Might and one of the students were also injured, but Recovery Girl took care of them,” he explained, before a flash caught your attention. Distaste made Present Mic’s lips purse as he looked at the front gates, “Vultures.”

Wait… “What about Toshinori?” you ask, watching the few people and reporters that were already outside the school’s campus. There weren’t that many yet, thankfully.

Mic sighed, “I should go deal with them before they get worse, see ya!”

“Wait, what about Toshinori?” you ask again before the man gets too far.

“I told you already, he’s up there with Recovery Girl,” he said loud enough so you could hear but didn’t yell so those outside would hear. Confused, you couldn’t ask anymore questions before the man was at the gate, already almost having to push the people back.

What did he mean ‘I told you already’? He had said All Might and the student was up there, but Midoriya was the only student up in the nurse’s office…

“Hello!” a voice popped up next to you, startling you completely. It was the principal. “Can I speak with you for a moment in my office?”

“Uh, sure,” you agree, your mind still trying to process what Present Mic had said. There was no way… Right? Or… maybe there was? Quirks were weird sometimes.

You almost felt like you were in trouble following the principal to his office. Nothing you could sense felt off in any way, other than the principal’s worry who you assumed was for his staff and student. He opened the door for you, letting you enter his office first. Principal Nezu took his time settling back into his chair at the large desk in front of you. Then he seemed to pause and think about something for a moment.

“What did you need?” you ask him, hoping to get to the point. You really needed to go find Recovery Girl, and maybe Toshinori.

“How would you feel about a job?” he asked, smile on his face and as pleasant as can be. He even seemed to almost swing his feet a bit in his chair.

“…A job?” What the heck was going on today?

“Yes,” he told you simply. “I’ve asked Recovery Girl who you were and have done some research on you as well. As you know, there was an incident before with the front gates, and now the altercation at the training facility. I’m afraid there will be even more pressure on the school and the staff to ensure the safety of the students.”

You nod as you wait for him to continue as he opened a file on his desk. “It seems that you know a lot of Pro Heroes out there, from all sorts of agencies, and it looks like your main office building was destroyed a few weeks ago leaving you jobless.”

Yeah, just rub it in…

“Your quirk lets you sense those around you, yes?” Principal Nezu asked, eyeing you closely.

“Sort of. I can get a very general sense of a person, yes, or sense if someone is around. But those are just the basics of my quirk,” you tell the… mouse? Dog? Small bear, maybe? You weren’t really sure, but he was kind of cute.

“Excellent,” he smiled, making some notes into the file. “You can start in a few days, once we give the students a little time off.”

Ummm… “What exactly is the job? You haven’t said…”

“Oh, just helping out the teachers and the staff keep an eye on those who come to and from the school. Using your quirk, I’d like you to keep an extra sense out for those around the campus,” the principal told you, still making notes.

“Seriously?!” you gasp, eyes wide as you watch Nezu set the pen down and shut the file. There was no way this was happening, right? You had been searching for a job for weeks.

“Absolutely. Security is something we need to completely redo considering all that has happened recently. There are those here who trust you implicitly, and other Pro Heroes that I’ve talked to who had nothing but good things to say. Plus, your time with a police agency in the past gives you an extra edge. You’re the perfect candidate for this job.”

You open your mouth to answer, but then close it. This seemed far too perfect, too easy. However, you really did need a job. The savings you had was beginning to dwindle, and you already felt bad for having Toshinori help you for weeks. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” the mouse? - you were going with mouse- agreed easily. “Please give me an answer within the next couple days. Have a good evening.”

Nodding, you feel like your world is off just a bit, tilted on its axis. Between your talk with Mic and the principal, you needed time to think, to process. And you still had to find Recovery Girl because you had some questions that you were getting answers to even if you used your quirk to sense them.

Thankfully, she was in her office once you returned. The beds were empty now, just her sitting at her desk looking slightly stressed.

“Chiyo,” you say, looking at the floor.

“What’s wrong? You don’t look so good, come sit,” she waved you over, sitting you into a nearby stool. You laughed weakly as she checked your temperature with her hand, checking over you like a parent would. Maybe a grandparent in Chiyo’s case.

“I just got offered a job by Principal Nezu,” you tell her. Seriously, the job would be amazing and much needed since you don’t have an office. “I’d be keeping an eye out for the students and faculty, looking for anything or anyone out of place…”

She nods along. “With your quirk that would be easier, I thought you’d make a good person for the job. You don’t seem excited?”

You should be; You should be ecstatic. You’d get to work at a highly prestigious school, Hell, you’d just get to work, but… “Am I dating All Might?” you ask quietly.

#bnha #mha #toshinori yagi #toshinori x reader #all might #kristen

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wendynerdwrites · 7 years ago

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Interview With Jonathon Burkhardt AKA ChaosD1

Jon Burkhardt AKA ChaosD1 is a video game reviewer specializing in MMO’s. He’s found himself embroiled in the controversy surrounding his old not-quite-employers, Channel Awesome, with the rise of the Change the Channel hashtag and the publication of the Google Doc Not So Awesome, which he contributed to. Having been a long time contributor to the Video Aggregate, he personally witnessed much of the mismanagement and poor treatment committed by the site’s management, culminating in his own abrupt termination.

He was nice enough to talk to me in some more detail about the controversy, the fallout, and his plans going forward.

First, can you go into, in your own words, who you are, and what you do?

I go by ChaosD1 online, but most people know me as Jon. I’ve been doing video game related content on YouTube for nearly 10 years, but focused specifically on MMOs with my show “MMO Grinder” as well as have livestreams on Twitch.tv most weekdays.

How did you come to work for Channel Awesome?

I was fairly involved with the site as a fan, as I think a lot of us were, back early [during] its inception back in 2008. Funnily enough I had a manager from my job at the time mention [the Nostalgia Critic] NC specifically, but I didn’t end up checking it out until watching Noah’s announcement that he was posting on there.

Early on there was a flash game arcade that kept track of overall points in each game, and I gained recognition when gaining the top rank overall in the arcade. I was contacted by the wiki team, who hired me on to work on the wiki with them.

Far later after meeting and talking with a few friends who started out as people I was just a major fan of, like Phelous, I decided to start making videos of my own. One of them won the Transmission Awesome contest to have me featured and interviewed on the podcast.

It wasn’t until I started my show “MMO Grinder” that I felt I had any content worthy of placing onto the site, and after Julien (Sad Panda) used up one of his schedule spots to give me a trial run, I was well enough received to earn a spot on Blistered Thumbs in October of 2011. I posted there and on TGWTG.com and after the site merger when BT was shut down, until May of 2017 when the incident I wrote about occurred.

How did you get involved in Change The Channel?

I never figured my story was important or interesting enough to provide any fuel to the fire that was quickly becoming #ChangeTheChannel, to the point I didn’t even make a big deal about what happened when I was let go, though I did have forward enough thinking to save the conversation, just in case something like this even came up. People involved as well as curious fans, still asked to tell my story through the Twitter thread, as well as some anon asks on Tumblr. It happened more after I reblogged Allison’s post from years ago describing the incident after she once again received a ton of people asking her why she didn’t watch or work with Doug anymore. Despite my thinking I didn’t really have a great story to add, I figured it was more a cautionary tale for those who still remained, as well as at least symptomatic of what was an overarching problem we all had for years.

There have been rumors and statements flying kind of under the radar for some time about the channel. What do you think sparked this movement now? What about this period in time led all these people to contribute to a mass document like this?

I think with the current climate on social media, as well as less and less people holding onto those idyllic ideas of a peaceful online utopia that was the internet equivalent of making it big in Hollywood, people were just more accepting now. Also with less and less producers being on the site, more were willing to finally let loose with the stories rather than rock the boat for those who were willing to put up with it. Just another case of straws breaking the camel’s back and what not. As you said, these rumors have been around for years… and honestly it’s nice to finally be able to come clean about a lot of them, rather than just let speculation fester and have contributors thrown under the bus for CA’s policies of silence and non-involvement for any form of bad press.

Can you talk about your personal aims in contributing, as well as what you think the general intent of the document was?

If anything, to show support for those that have, and give my take, regardless of how seemingly insignificant it was. The document’s intent is pretty outlined in the opening paragraph, but some people want an apology for their mistreatment, while others just want people to know why we don’t enjoy being questioned about what CA’s been up to, like we’re forced to be lifelong fans just because we were involved with them once. At least that’s my reasoning. I don’t expect an apology. I know how they do. I just remember feeling more disrespected, like every one of us not in the main studio were a burden upon the website they deeply regretted bringing along in the first place.

Something that’s become a hot button topic over the last few years and has been a major point in the Change The Channel complaints is the concept of being paid “in exposure”. What are your feelings about that whole idea and it’s validity?

I understand it to a certain degree. In the event of an aggregate site, it does help when the community is being fostered. Where fans can potentially become contributors, which is exactly what CA USED to be. There’s a slight validity to the claims that people on CA would be NOWHERE without Doug, but that’s not the case for everyone who was involved. People like Smarty [For Smarty’s story, click here], Mike J and myself didn’t really see any level of channel growth directly from CA. In fact, both Mike J and I’ve made mention of how shockingly LOW the metrics coming from CA were. We’re talking a percentage of a percent.

But if that site gains popularity because of you, it’s only fair to share some of that success with the people who helped you reach that point.

And if you’re only there to host people and pay them in “exposure” it’s not fair to make complete demands of them for how they post their content, or what content they post, especially if you were fine with everything they did beforehand.

There’s benefits to the aggregate site, but I don’t think anyone’s willing to put in the work for that kind of thing anymore.

What means do you think an online media worker has to protect themselves, and what measures and protections would you like to see become a reality?

Honestly that’s something I should be looking into myself. It’s still pretty much a Wild West right now, with so many people at the mercy of any company’s whim. If anything it would be nice to see a more hands on approach and clear communication between all parties involved, instead of leaving everything up to an experimental AI. Get some PEOPLE involved and create some jobs. Don’t just shut down channels or delete videos for having footage if they aren’t going to check the context that footage was placed in. I dunno. I’m not really an expert here.

What was your experience fresh off of your split from the Channel?

It was a non-starter all around. As I’d mentioned in my Tumblr post (I would have added more detail to my section of the doc, but figured I’d just keep things concise.) views from CA were next to nothing at the time of my departure. I’m not joking when I say a percent of a percent. 10k views? About 20 from CA. 100k in a month overall? Less than 200 from CA. It just wasn’t worth the effort, but staying just felt like some kind of principle you know? Phelan, Allison and Julien were all wondering why I bothered to stay on as long as I did, but I figured as long as I didn’t get any flak either way, I’d stick around. In a way I knew I was going to get canned for posting just one video that month. I didn’t ever really want to bother asking to get back on until I was encouraged to do so by the producer chat. It felt like I was freeing myself from a needless burden after they let me know, but the whole thing still felt really shitty. They never really did much of anything to promote me. In turn, I never bothered to promote them. Notice how I never included the Channel Awesome logo bumper, nor mentioned them in my credits scrawl after Blistered Thumbs was shut down? That was on purpose.

If anything did surprise me, it was how upset a lot of the producers were after they let me go in such a… and let me use this word correctly here, “callous” manner. In fact I think at least two producers quit in solidarity shortly afterward. For the producers, they all seemed to care about me. For the management? I was a fly on the wall they just shooed out the window. Out of sight, out of mind. They just never asked the fly how much information it gathered beforehand.

Do you think workers at online companies - particularly in online media, are particularly vulnerable given how unregulated the medium is? After all, as we’ve seen with cases involving everything from fair use and “revenge porn” cases, it seems the law is far behind properly addressing how to handle the internet?

I think cases like this, regardless of how important this whole thing might seem to the average viewer, or online atmosphere are steps in the right direction. A lot of these companies did just start out as a group of friends deciding to do a thing, and spiraled into unexpected popularity they weren’t ready to handle. You can say the same about a lot of online producers. Hopefully we just keep moving forward with all of this and perhaps in time we’ll see some protections for new media. As long as old media isn’t still trying to completely invalidate it out of fear of being replaced.

A lot of people have taken notice of this over the last couple of weeks. What do you want to say to people who wish to support you?

To support me, or anyone you choose to support, visit their shows directly. Share their videos. Leave feedback and engage with their communities. Follow them on social media. If they have a Patreon, contribute if you can. Even a dollar makes up for literally HUNDREDS of views worth of ad revenue. Just continue to recognize what they do, as long as you enjoy what they do.

And what actions should they avoid?

Don’t be a sycophant or a zealot. You don’t need to directly “attack” anyone on our behalf, and plenty of innocents tend to get caught in the crossfire around that kind of behavior. Be mindful of those upset by the information, as for a lot of people, it’s very tough to deal with the news. I tend to forget just how long the site’s been around, and some people literally grew up with our videos. That dose of reality is a lot harder to deal with than some.

Also, for the love of God, do NOT speculate on things that have been kept vague. I’m seeing a whole bunch of people trying to piece together parts of the puzzle left by a few anon contributions, and several people I know were NOT involved were thrown under the bus as a convenient scapegoat. Sometimes it’s easy to want to hate someone for a certain reason, and use them to blame all those mysterious stories, but the truth is far darker than you can imagine, and there are none who come out of top by trying to decode the message. If they decide they want to add more information to their stories, they will. Until then, respect their decision to remain anonymous and vague when they feel they need to be.

How have you found the response so far?

I’m genuinely appreciative and shocked for the outpour of support I’ve seen. Yeah, there have been more than a few “hell no we won’t go” die hard fans with some disturbingly zealous responses, or attempts to dismiss our stories as whining or revenge, but far more are willing to accept this kind of thing as reality now. If you’d have asked me years ago if I’d ever wanted this day to come, I would have honestly said no, as we were all starry-eyed hopefuls once, but I think the writing on the wall’s been there for years, and only now are people starting to read it. I’m not hoping to see any one particular outcome from all of this. I’m just glad people are finally reading that writing.

What are your plans going forward professionally?

Having nothing to do with Channel Awesome, the market situation of MMOs has forced my hand into a defacto hiatus, but we’ve been going fairly steady with the side content, and I plan on doing a new show focused on my new gaming passion Indie Games. As much as I’d like to talk about my favorite Switch or AAA games, too, I think it helps to carve out a niche.

Going into #Change the Channel, was there any fear or anxiety about possible legal retaliation by CA?

For me? No. Someone on Tumblr asked why I wasn’t on CA and I answered.

Others might have concerns, but I think many more fans have been concerned, or defenders of CA outright teased producers, that legal action would head their way, but so few things were under contract. I never even got a welcome package. That kinda works both ways.

After leaving CA, did you keep in contact with your old co-workers prior to the Change the Channel collaboration? What was the general atmosphere among ex-CA members before this?

Considering I only really ever spoke with them, and never really the management, yeah I did, and most of us usually did. There were plenty of times collabs would have ex-members pair up with current At that point, most of us were disillusioned with the concept of CA being some kind of exclusive club. It was never a "member vs non-member" mentality. Friends we made there tended to remain friends. There is even a group Skype most of us have remained in just to chat and collaborate. This is far from the first time any of us had grievances with the management, but it's definitely the first time it's been this public.

There's been a lot of talk about how the sense of camaraderie was what compelled a lot of people to put up with the mismanagement and mistreatment. Can you speak to that?

That's, from my perspective, an unquestionable truth. Many of us didn't share stories just as we didn't feel it necessary. (Again, my reason for being let go is basically nothing in the grand scheme. It fits more for the "They don't care about non-studio producers." side of the story than the "Here are some generally horrifying practices." portion. I learned about many of these from the doc, just like the rest of you.)There are plenty of people who wanted the status and recognition they perceived they would get from joining the site, two of who I warned personally about, but really, we mostly stayed for the sense of community with each other. That's why so many, past and present, left in small groups of solidarity. It's when we realized that it wasn't the site keeping us together. It was just us.

You can follow ChaosD1 on his youtube page, his Twitch stream, on twitter, and at his tumblr page @chaosd1. You can also find his work on his website, MMOGrinder.net. Also, please consider supporting his Patreon!

Art by Andrew Dickman.

#chaosd1 #channel awesome #change the channel #tgwtg #that guy with the glasses

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goodnightkisseu · 7 years ago

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Park Jihoon - Rival [Part 2]

Requested By: Anon ^^ (Enemies to Lovers)

Genre: Slight angst and fluff at the end

Parts: [Part 1] [Part 2]

Note: Part 2 of Jihoon’s fic, Rival is done! I hope that everyone enjoys this last part. It was actually an interesting one for me to put together so I’m really glad to the anon who requested it. ^^ Up next I have a couple of shorter scenarios/fics for Jinyoung and Minhyun that I’m finishing up, as well as a soulmate series that I’m starting to plan out, so please look forward to all of those. Requests are always open so feel free to send in your requests! And I think that’s it! Enjoy! ^^

- goodnightkisseu’s admin <3

“Hey,” Jihoon said out of the blue, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you. “Can I ask you something?”

“If you’re going to ask me why I was so stupid and picked the wrong room, then you can just stop right there. I already know I screwed up. I don’t need to be reminded again…” you shot back, preemptively assuming what the male across from you would say.

He sighed, rolled his eyes slightly, but let the comment go. “For your information, that wasn’t what I was going to ask you. I have a serious question. Now, can I ask it, or not?”

“I guess…” you mumbled, nodding in the slightest to give him the go ahead.

“Why do you hate me so much?” he asked, his question straightforward, not wanting to mince any words. Jihoon had known for a while now that you had problems with him, but he didn’t know how it had developed into hate. Sure, he teased you a lot and probably caused some of this hate all on his own, but he honestly had no idea what else could have led to your ill feelings about him. He thought that everything had been okay at first. The two of you had rather pleasant conversations… so what was with the sudden change?

“I don’t –”

“Don’t do that. I know full well that you don’t like me. We’re stuck here anyway, so why don’t you just be honest about it? I mean, what else are we going to do while we wait for the custodian to show up? Might as well let it out,” he suggested, locking eyes with you momentarily. Jihoon wasn’t entirely sure, but he could have sworn that his words sparked something in you because you sat up at that point, looking directly at him.

He…wanted to know why you didn’t like him? Was he serious? Because, if that was what he wanted, then you were more than ready to speak your mind about it. Deep down you knew you always wanted to say these things out loud and now he was giving you an opportunity to do it… and you were going to take full advantage of it. “You really want to know why I hate you so much?” you reiterated, wanting to make sure that he was completely serious about it. He gave you a simple nod and you let out a light sigh in response.

“I hate that everything seems so easy for you. We’re interns, so we get the work that our manager and our team doesn’t want to do. However, while I’m still trying to finish up my first task, you’re already on your third. It could be that I’m slow at what I do, and that’s fine, I’m still learning how to be efficient in this environment. But have you ever heard what our coworkers say? They’re always talking about how, ‘oh Jihoonnie is such a good worker. He gets things done so quickly. Maybe we should have only hired one intern.’ Do you know how much it hurts to hear those things?” you questioned, the male sitting across from you having grown quiet.

“Even from the social aspect of our office you had an easier time than I did. When I started here, two month before you did, no one wanted to talk to me. They told me that they were asked to take on an intern because their department hadn’t had one in a while and they needed to create opportunities for students. I had to work hard to get the attention of those that worked around me, show that I wanted to be there, and that was when they started to notice me. But even simple things like going out to lunch with them was difficult. They never invited me until much later. With you… your second day here and people were already coming to your desk to welcome you. Hell, they even threw you a freaking welcome party. They never did anything like that for me…”

“And the thing that I hate the most about you was how easy it was for you to get this job. I mean, your friend’s dad is the CEO of the company for crying out like. Like, did you even have to go through that painstaking interview process, Jihoon? Do you know how much someone like me stressed about this interview? How unsure I was about getting this job? How many other internships I had applied for, only to be rejected because I didn’t have the necessary experience for them? Do you know how hurt I was mentally when you can strolling in, the office instantly loves you, and you’re actually damn good at your job? It makes me wonder why I even bother trying if I’ll never be able to do as well as you. After we turn in our marketing strategies… I honestly would be surprised if they don’t ask me back…”

Your words trailed off as you hugged your legs closer to your frame, burying your face into them. If it was one thing you didn’t want, it was for Park Jihoon to see you cry. The jerk would probably just make fun of you for it.

Part of you had expected to hear laughing or maybe a quick snarky remark from Jihoon, but he said nothing. Instead, you heard shuffling feet as Jihoon moved around, which confused you even more. You weren’t entirely sure what was going on, but you didn’t want to look up to find out either. Your eyes were already dewy and he would definitely know that you were on the verge of tears if he saw you.

The footsteps eventually stopped and what happened next, you weren’t expecting. You felt something landing on top of you, covering your form as you froze on the spot, your body tensing up. Your curiosity getting the better of you caused you to lift your head ever so slightly to see a jacket draped over you, completely obscuring you from the only other person in the room.

“If you need to cry, you can. I promise I won’t look or cause a fuss since it’s probably something you wouldn’t want me to witness anyway. I’ll pretend like it didn’t happen…” Jihoon said softly, his voice sounding closer to you than it had before. You assumed that he was sitting next to you now, but probably staring off in a different direction.

His action, though considerate, did irk you a bit. How could someone that you hated so much read you so well? Why did he always have to have all of the answers? “I-I wasn’t going to cry,” you retorted, not wanting to allow him to be right. You poked your head ever so slightly out from under his jacket to address him. “I’m not as weak and fragile as you think I am,” you muttered.

“I didn’t say you were weak and I didn’t mean to insinuate it. I just meant that, everyone deserves to have a good cry every now and then. When they let things build up to a level like yours, it can be exhausting and emotionally draining when they finally allow all of it to come flowing out. Sometimes, you just need to cry,” he explained. “If that’s not what you need right now, then that’s fine. Do you at least feel better, getting that off your chest?” he asked, still not facing you, but discreetly peeking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Y-yes…” you mumbled, realizing now that he had asked you why you hated him to give you a chance to rant. Your demeanor lately must have really given it away or else he probably wouldn’t have asked such a thing. It also made you feel a bit bad for saying such nasty things about him. Then again, this was Park Jihoon. Did things like that even bother him? Did he even care?

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like a chance to clear up some of those things you mentioned.”

“I knew you weren’t just going to let me have it,” you retorted quickly, sending a pout his way. He really was the type that needed to have the last word. Yet, in this case… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He had listened to you complain about him, and that was more than anyone else would have done. Might as well hear him out too. “I guess for this once, it’ll be okay. So go for it. Defend yourself.”

As you peered over at him, you couldn’t help but see his lips curl into a small smile. Was he glad that you were letting him speak his mind too? That didn’t seem like a very Jihoon-like thing to do. It didn’t match the image that you had of him… and you couldn’t help but wonder if you had been a bit too harsh on him.

“Look, you are right. I did get this job because Jinyoung and I are really good friends and his father offered me the position. I didn’t have to go through the same stressful series of interviews here as you did, and I know that, in and of itself, is unfair. I can’t deny that, but something you should know was that this place wasn’t my first choice. Like you, I had applied to other companies that I felt would fit me better. I applied to teams where their marketing departments drew my eye, but much like you I was rejected for my lack of experience. I only landed here because my parents basically told Jinyoung’s dad to hire me behind my back,” he explained.

“I’m not going to say that this made me angry. I would now have a job on my resume that could help me get future jobs. The only thing was, I didn’t want to get the job in this way. I would have much rather have gone through the proper application channels, because, getting my job this way, felt stressful in its own way. I felt like I was being held to a higher standard because I didn’t enter the same way everyone else did. I felt like I had to work harder. The reason why I’m getting my stuff done before you isn’t because I’m some sort of marketing genius. I do a lot of the assignments when I get home from work and sometimes even early in the morning before work. It seems like I’m getting this stuff done during our regular office hours, but I’m really not.”

“And as far as people liking me more than you… that’s honestly because I’m friends with Jinyoung and they’re trying to suck up to me. The way they talk to me is really kind and sweet, but it’s obvious they want something out of it. It’s not because I’m the life of the party or anything, they’re just playing office politics.”

“I’m not saying that these things should make you hate me less or that you shouldn’t hate me at all. I get where you’re coming from. If I were you, I’d hate me too. I’ve been given a lot of special treatment and I know it. I’m sorry that my actions have made you feel like you were less than me. You aren’t,” he told you firmly. “You work hard and the quality of your work is amazing. Your planning work is honestly some of the best I’ve seen and your determination is admirable. You won’t be losing your job any time soon. I think everyone appreciates your work, they just haven’t said it. And if, for some reason, you are on the chopping block, I’m more than willing to fight for you to stay. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Why… why are you being so nice to me? Do you have plans to sabotage me later?” you asked, still cautious of the male next to you. He had now contradicted everything that you had grown to associate with him, and that made you wary.

“I promise it’s nothing like that. I mean everything that I just told you. You’re doing great work and you should keep focusing on producing all of that wonderful work. You’re doing well and you shouldn’t compare yourself to someone like me,” he reassured you, a small smile forming on his lips. “So can we call a truce now? I don’t know if I can stand you glaring at me all of the time at work,” he teased.

“Excuse you, you deserve it,” you countered. You were about to give him a response to his inquiry, but before you could, the door to the room opened and you were greeted by a very surprised looking custodian. He asked you what the two of you were doing in here, and JIhoon was quick to explain the situation so that there were no misunderstandings. The custodian nodded, telling the two of you that this door had been broken for years and that the staff usually propped it open, before moving out of the way and letting the two of you exit.

As you walked side by side back to your desks, your hand still clutching Jihoon’s jacket, you felt like he had a point. You hated him, but maybe it wasn’t exactly for the right reasons. He was a hard worker too, put in a strange situation. He didn’t necessarily deserve you glaring or giving him a hard time.

“Jihoon,” you started as the male to your side looked over at you. “We can call a truce,” you told him, handing him his jacket, murmuring a soft ‘thank you.’ “But if you do something dumb, don’t think I won’t call you out on it. I’ll be watching.”

Jihoon chuckled and nodded. “Deal. I wouldn’t have it any other way…”

~* Eight Months Later… *~

“Hey!” a familiar voice called out as the individual came running out of the building after you, his pace slowing when he finally caught up. His steps easily fell into place with yours as he caught his breath. “Leaving without me today?”

“I saw you talking with Jinyoung and figured that you guys would be heading out together. I didn’t want to interrupt,” you told Jihoon as he chuckled in response.

“Oh, that was nothing. He just had a question about someone we knew. I think he’s trying to set up one of his other friends,” he replied. “You should have just walked over though. The two of you haven’t really met yet and he’s a good friend of mine. He’s a perfectly nice guy.”

You vehemently shook your head. “Nu-uh, no way. I do not want the entire female population of our office coming after me for, not only dating you, but also for hanging out with the handsome son of the CEO too. No thanks. I like living. I’ll meet him some other time,” you told him. “Seriously, every time we leave together, they glare at me. Like full on glare!”

“Well now you know how I felt when you used to glare at me. It’s not fun, is it,” he retorted, earning himself a light hit on the arm as you didn’t appreciate the reminder that you used to glare daggers into your now boyfriend.

After the two of you had that talk, you became more understanding of Jihoon. Sure, the two of you didn’t become the best of friends overnight, but you were more aware of his situation, of the expectations placed on him and how he had to work that much harder to meet them. You were the first to initiate a civil conversation with him and eventually the two of you were talking on a regular basis again. You would often confide in each other about parts of the work you were struggling on and you both came to realize that it was more effective for you each to do the parts of the projects that you were confident in. Jihoon always had brilliant ideas and visions and could probably sell anything to anyone. You were good at figuring out how to implement these ideas and presenting them in a concise way. It was a working situation that created some rather outstanding plans, much to the surprise of your boss. So it wasn’t too shocking when the company decided to hire you both on full-time, as a pair, for marketing campaigns.

Through those three months the two of you became extremely close and eventually, one night, when you were working late, Jihoon asked you out. It felt like it had come out of nowhere, but he told you that he had been thinking about it a lot. And if you were going to be honest with yourself, your feelings for him had come back in full force so it didn’t take too much for you to say yes. It was a relationship that was now five months old and you honestly didn’t know what it would be like for you during really busy periods if he wasn’t there. Sure, the two of you would have disagreements from time to time, and you saw each other day in and day out, but you made it work.

Even though things were great between the two of you, there was something that was still bothering you. As you were walking home with Jihoon, hand in hand, that thing crossed your mind as the two of you waited at the crosswalk. “Hey Jihoon…” you started, giving his hand a light squeeze to get his attention.

“Yes?” he asked, turning his attention towards you.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything. What’s up?”

“Back then, when you first started at the company, why did you never text me back? You know, after we kissed at the party…?”

Jihoon stifled a chuckle. “Well that came out of nowhere…”

“Oh shush. It’s really been bugging me for a long time, okay…”

Jihoon quirked a brow as the two of you made your way across the street. The question seemed moot at this point seeing as the two of you had kissed numerous times since, but he figured he’d humor you. “You’re talking about that time at my welcome party, right? I did text you back.”

“Uh, no you didn’t. Are you sure you weren’t texting one of the other girls you gave your number to, because I never got it,” you said adamantly as your boyfriend nodded.

“I am one hundred percent sure that I texted you back. I remember you asking me about it and I told you I kissed you because I liked you… but you never responded. I even double checked that it was to you. I’m pretty sure that you’re the one that dropped the ball back then,” he replied.

Your steps slowed to a stop as the two of you stood there, just looking at each other. “I never got that message, I swear. Wait a minute, you liked me back then?!” you asked, your voice raising a couple of octaves when you realized that he had liked you this whole time, and that you were the one that was being a bit of a jerk.

Jihoon chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your torso, bringing you closer to him as he placed a kiss on your forehead. “I did, and I obviously still do. I just thought you hated me so much back then that I wouldn’t be able to change your mind. So I didn’t try pursuing you right away.”

“I don’t hate you now,” you responded sweetly, your face getting a little warm as that smile on Jihoon’s lips grew.

“And for that, I’m glad,” he replied, leaning in to give you a light kiss before reaching for your hand, the two of you continuing the rest of the trip home, hand in hand…

#wanna one #park jihoon #wanna one scenarios #wanna one imagines #kpop scenarios

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theranskahovs · 7 years ago

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A Proposition *Vladimir x Reader x Piotr*

Requests: inspired by these amazing asks my favorite anon, V, sent me. also combining the kink prompt i got of: 80 & Vladimir? (sex as performance/third person watches) Warnings: swearing, smut, a threesome Word Count: 2.5k A/N: this just gives me atomic blonde vibes i’m living for it

Part Two

All your senses are overwhelmed. The stench of too many bodies packed tightly together, cigarette smoke, and cheap liquor choke you. A fast, bass-laden song reverberates throughout the room, mimicking the way you can feel your blood pound in your veins. You push your nerves down, and remind yourself you’ve been in worse situations before.

You’re still a bit jittery, scanning the crowd over and over again every few seconds. They should be here by now. Vladimir may not’ve been punctual, but he was a creature of habit, and it was hard to believe he’d miss his weekly outing to his favorite strip club.

You’d learned another Russian, Piotr, usually came with him. If Vladimir decided to drink, he got aggressive. Whether Piotr was there to protect Vladimir from others, or others from Vladimir, you couldn’t say.

Either way, he showed up just before midnight every Friday, and now so did you. You almost couldn’t take another minute in this sleazy place. You felt stares from every direction, knowing the men were mentally undressing you. It wouldn’t have been hard, since you were already practically naked. You knew you had to pick the most revealing, excessive lingerie to secure some time with Vladimir. Tonight would’ve been much harder if he didn’t think with his dick.

You caught your reflection in a dirty mirror by the bar. You wipe off a bit of lipstick that strayed, and try to add more volume to your hair. You play the part well. You look like someone that belongs here, and maybe you do.

Two new heads enter the crowd, and your gaze darts to them. Finally. You watch as Vladimir pushes his way to the front, by the stage. “Pushes” doesn’t seem to be the right word, because everyone near him is suddenly aware of his presence, and they eagerly part to make room for him. Before any other girls can make their way over to him, you sashay over, head held high.

You’d learned Vladimir went after the ones that didn’t seem so submissive. He wanted a challenge. He wanted his prey to put up a fight first. Well, now he’ll get one.

You run your nails up his arm, smiling teasingly at him. “Interested?” Before he can respond, you grab his hand, leading him to one of the private rooms. Gotcha, asshole.

As you lead him, you feel his hand on your ass. You almost don’t mind it. It disgusts you less than the other dozen creeps who’ve done it in the past hour. On a second thought, you remind yourself of all the terrible things he’s done. What about the terrible thing I’m about to do? you ask yourself. Instead of lingering on that, you force a giggle to escape your lips, turning back to smirk at him as you guide him into the chair in the center of the room. Piotr stands by the door, eyes raking over you just as much, if not more, than Vladimir’s.

Your eyes dart to the beat up couch as you begin to dance for Vladimir (and Piotr, you remind yourself, locking eyes with the other man by the door). Vladimir settles in his chair, welcoming you as you grind down on him. This couldn’t have been easier.

You abruptly push off of Vladimir, lunging at the couch. Your hand sinks deep down between the cushions, grabbing at some things you don’t want to think about, but you come back up with a gun.

Piotr’s reaching for the blade he usually carries in his jacket. You level your gun at him. “Put the knife down, now.” You command. He does, setting it on the floor and sliding it to you.

“Get out,” you tell Piotr, focusing your gun on Vladimir. You honestly didn’t care what happened to Piotr or who he’d tell, your only task was to kill his boss.

Vladimir doesn’t move, still slouched down in his chair a bit and eyeing you like he still has the upper hand. What a fucking fool. You suddenly remember you’re in a sheer bralette and panties that barely cover your ass, and think of how crazy this looks. In lingerie and holding a gun to a Russian mob leader’s head, like you do this every weekend.

“Why?” Vladimir asks. His voice startles you; it’s the only sound apart from the music seeping through the cracks of the door, and the first time you’ve it from him speaking directly to you.

You tilt your head curiously. “I was hired to,” you say, no emotion in your voice. This was what you did for a living, emotion wasn’t allowed to be a part of your life anymore.

“How much?” He asks. You furrow your brows, wondering if he’s trying to distract you. “If you’re going to kill me, at least grant me that.”

“Ten thousand.” You tell him, thinking of how you already spent your 10% upfront on rent for the month.

Piotr chuckles. You glare at him, but Vladimir speaks up again. His lips twist into a sordid smile, “I would have offered you fifty.”

“You’re not worth that much,” you spit out.

“Are you?” he asks, tilting his head dramatically. “You were free just five minutes ago.”

You huff angrily, taking a stride toward him and pressing the barrel of your gun into his forehead. “I guess some people would do anything for money,” you say knowingly. You’d heard all about his businesses. You move away from him again, paranoid he’d try to disarm you.

He looks up at you, confused. “You’re doing this for the money?”

“Why else?” You had no personal vendetta against him, a job was a job. And you were determined to see it out.

“I know a better way for you to make money, one that might be... mutually beneficial,” he starts.

You glance between him and Piotr. “I’m listening.”

“I’ll give you ten thousand, will that be good enough?”

“For... what?” You’re confused. Is he paying you to not kill him?

“You put that gun down, and I get to fuck you. Although you do look amazing holding it,” he proposes, a grin spreading to his face. Piotr clears his throat, and Vladimir turns to look at him, and back to you. “Him too.”

“Deal.” You’d already gotten $1,000 from the original plan, and now you just made $10,000, without even having to dirty your hands. It seemed like money was even more important to you than morals now, but wasn’t it to everyone? You knew it was to the men in front of you, but the similarities between you and your company didn’t make you feel at ease one bit.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, and Vladimir nods. Piotr moves away from the door finally, but only enough so you brush past him when leaving. You hide the gun far away from the room, in case either one decides to pull something.

You enter again, and Piotr locks the door behind you. “Come and give me that dance now,” Vladimir says. He stands up, twirling you around and looking at you.

“I’m not actually a dancer,” you remind him, trying to smile. If he was paying you ten thousand for the hour, you knew to act like it was the best one of your life.

“Shame,” he mutters, pulling you into him roughly. He stares down at you and the shocked look on your face, and you know you’ve gone back to being the prey again.

He chuckles at the flash of fear in your eyes, and presses his lips to yours. There’s nothing gentle about him; it’s all harsh and rough, from the way his stubble scrapes at your face and his hands grope your body in a way that almost makes you feel helpless.

He pushes you against the wall, and you can feel his cock pressing against your ass. “What’s wrong? You were so powerful a minute ago.” He laughs quietly, recalling it. He wraps a hand in your hair and yanks, making you cry out.

He brings a hand down onto your ass twice as hard. You don’t even try to contain the moan that leaves you. He glances over to Piotr, who’s taken a spot in the chair, “Of course she likes pain,” he informs him with a smirk.

“Down,” he commands, pushing on your shoulder. You get the hint, turning around to face him and sinking onto your knees.

Your hands fumble with undoing his pants, and then you pull his dick out. He’s heavy and thick, and you press your thighs together as you suddenly feel too empty. “C’mon,” Vladimir says, pushing the back of your head.

You look up at him as you lick the underside of his shaft, all the way to the top, taking the tip in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around a few times, but don’t hesitate to take as much as you can of him.

Vladimir’s hand tangles in your hair, pressing you even closer to him. You inhale sharply, glaring up at him as you start to bob your head. He smiles down at you, his other hand brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Can’t fight back much from down there, can you?”

You try to disagree with him, and the mangled word’s vibration has him tilting his head back. You make eye contact with Piotr, who is leaning back in the chair, jeans discarded, lazily stroking himself.

His dick looks just as good as Vladimir’s, and you can practically already feel him stretching you out. You sink lower on your knees, ready to help yourself with the hand that isn’t twisting around Vladimir. Your hips grind against the first solid thing you’re met with.

You whimper around Vladimir, fingers seeking out your clit. Even when you realize you’re fucking yourself on his boot, you don’t stop. It seems like everyone is getting attention but you. “Look how desperate she is,” he points out to Piotr, and your face flushes in shame.

Before you have the chance to counter his remark, Vladimir pulls you up without warning, and the sound that results from your mouth leaving his dick is filthy. He pushes you toward Piotr, who says something to in Russian. Piotr looks you up and down, and nods, replying back in their native language.

Piotr reaches out to you, helping you straddle his lap. He puts his hand on the back of your neck, and you surge forward to kiss him. His kiss was less jarring; he either knew not everything had to be a fight for dominance, or he wanted to make Vladimir jealous as much as you did.

He reaches around you, and manages to unclip your bralette. His hands are big and a bit calloused, and they feel perfect on the smooth skin of your breasts. He pushes your panties to the side, teasingly running a finger through your wetness. You moan into his mouth, biting down a bit too roughly on his lip.

He grunts, putting his hands on your hips and pulling you down onto him. You gasp loudly, eyes closing as you get used to him filling you. He doesn’t give you the chance, though, instead guiding your hips to grind on him.

You moan his name softly, dropping your forehead into the crook of his neck as you lift yourself up and drop back down onto him. He nips at your shoulder, his hands heavy on your waist and an almost comforting presence.

Piotr spanks you, and the sound echos a bit. “Earn your money,” he growls in your ear. He takes the lobe in his mouth before trailing his lips across your neck, alternating open mouthed kisses and leaving marks. You follow his order, beginning to ride him without his guidance.

You’re aware of Vladimir watching you closely, and you know he’s paying extra attention to all the little sounds that spill from your lips. You’re aware of the song changing a few times before Piotr’s hands grip tightly at your hips again.

He pulls you down hard into his dick after you rise up. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud and biting down on the skin next to it. You moan, a sound that’s music to both mens’ ears, as Piotr cums, slamming his hips up especially hard to meet yours.

You only get a second to breathe before Vladimir is reaching out to you, half pulling, half letting you get off Piotr. Your legs are wobbly as he walks you to the end of the couch, bending you over it.

He enters you easily, since your wetness is mixing with Piotr’s cum. He thrusts deeply, hitting your g-spot with almost every try. You gasp, gripping onto the couch to stay in place. Your face is pressed against a pillow, and it muffles your cries a little. You’re glad, it makes you sound less eager for their rough touches and harsh words.

Vladimir’s hand pulls at your hair again, the other running down your back. Not long after, the dirtiness of it all and the way Vladimir’s dick fits perfectly in you has your stomach tingling. Your pussy tightens around Vladimir as you see stars, and he follows a minute later. You swear he mumbles something that sounds like your name as he does.

Your breath is heavy, and you’re suddenly aware of how hot and stiff the air in the rooms feels. You put your bralette back on, and recline on the couch as Vladimir gets dressed again. You’re aware of the mixed cum dripping out of you and into your panties, but there’s not much you can do to fix that.

“I’ll get your money to you,” Vladimir informs you, buckling his belt.

“How do you-?” You start.

“You don’t think I haven’t been watching you, too?” Vladimir asks with a patronizing laugh, as if you should’ve realized.

Your face pales as you sit up quickly, suddenly feeling bare in both the physical sense, and because you don’t have your gun. Vladimir doesn’t look at you as he leaves.

Piotr walks over to you, and you stiffen. He drops a $100 bill on your lap. “It’s all I’ve got tonight,” he says, almost regrettingly. “We’ll see you again.”

#writing #Daredevil #daredevil season one #daredevil au #daredevil smut #marvel #marvel smut #marvel one shot #vladimir #vladimir x reader #vladimir ranskahov imagine #Vladimir Ranskahov #vladimir ranskahov x reader #piotr #piotr x reader #piotr veselov x reader #piotr veselov #piotr kuznetsov

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james-baeder · 7 years ago

Note

for the domestic ship meme: Lizzington 😌

Thank you! (And for the anon who also requested Lizzington, here you go!)

Who’s more dominant:Red is more dominant in most of his relationships, so it follows that he will be with Liz too, she certainly feels that way. But she definitely has all the power. He is ready to do anything for her 24/7.

Who’s the cuddler:Red is a serial cuddler, but Liz also can’t resist just wrapping her arms around his cuddly torso, and sticking her face into his neck.

Who’s the big spoon/little spoon:Red likes being the big spoon because then he can hold Lizzy real close and kiss her hair, he just really likes it. Also, despite it being the biggest cliche, Liz feels really safe wrapped up in his arms.

What’s their favorite non-sexual activity:Since Red gave her some pointers, they like baking together. It’s very relaxing and has almost no chance of anyone dying so, when they’re not running from anyone, that’s what they like to do. This leads to a recreation of that Ghost scene but instead of pottery it’s dough.

Who uses all the hot water:Red does. He takes his sweet time in there, which leads to exasperated Liz barging in on him most mornings (which is not entirely accidental on his part).

(click here ↘)

Most trivial thing they fight over: Red trying to control everything, and never wanting her to go out alone. She needs her space Raymond

Who does most of the cleaning: Red sometimes tidies up Liz’s apartment, but since he lives in borrowed houses and hotel rooms, he never has to clean any of his own messes (mostly). When he’s not around, Liz deep cleans the apartment to distract herself.

What has a season pass on their dvr/Who controls the netflix queue: Liz. Though Red sure does love commenting on how inaccurate crime shows are. And political shows. And sometimes even medical shows.

Who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working: Red fixes everything because he is amazing with his hands. Liz loves watching him

Who leaves their stuff around: Liz does. Pretty sure she doesn’t even own a laundry basket. But Red loves the feeling of his space being invaded by her stuff. Sometimes he travels with an extra bag just so he doesn’t forget any of her clothes (and sometimes books, and files, and mugs) when he moves safe houses.

Who remembers to buy the milk: Gosh, once they start dating Red ensures her fridge is fully stocked at all times. This is one of the things they fight about. Liz says it’s a waste because she barely eats at home, and when she does it’s take out, so whatever is in the fridge will spoil. Red says that she needs to take better care of herself, and he offers to cook up all the ingredients for her - whether they’re close to spoiling or not.

Who remembers anniversaries: Liz is good at the big anniversaries - first date, birthdays, etc. Red has a mind for more obscure things - when he first realised she might have feelings for him too, the first time he bought her jewellery (which is months before they’re actually together), when he whispered “i love you” into her hair when she was asleep one night.

Who cooks normally: Ya boy Red loves to get down and dirty in the kitchen. As he cooks he teaches Liz about what he’s doing (she only understands what he means half the time), and he tells her stories which relate to this dish or this knife or that one time in Angola, you won’t believe this Lizzy...

How often do they fight: A lot about work, there are still some things Red needs to keep from the FBI and Liz is having a hard time dealing with that. Things about her past that Red can’t share come up sometimes, and it always ends in both of them feeling horrible, so Liz tries to curb her curiosity as much as she can. About personal stuff, not as much, they have a good flow of communication going on, so fights are resolved easily.

What do they do when they’re away from each other: Business as usual. Liz goes to work, but feels stupid for looking up at the door every 10 minutes expecting Red to bother her. Red flies to far off places for nefarious business deals, but cuts down on his leisure time to fly back as soon as possible. He makes sure to bring souvenirs back every time.

Nicknames for each other: Lizzy, Lizzy, Lizzy. Sweetheart, occasionally. Darling when they’re playing a role at some event. She doesn’t give him nicknames so much as simply telling him that he’s being cute or endearing.

Who is more likely to pay for dinner: Liz KNOWS by now that she’ll never ever win this fight, so Red always pays for dinner. When they first started dating he literally had to do it beforehand just so she wouldn’t try to pay at the end of the date.

Who steals the covers at night: Sorry to disappoint, but neither of them. Red is a human furnace, so when she sticks to him she has no problem. And in Red’s life there’s not really space for the kind of peaceful sleeping that allows cover hogging to happen so...

What would they get each other for gifts:Liz: She likes getting him key chains, especially because she very well knows that he doesn’t carry keys with him (he has like 500 lockers all over the world though, so each locker key gets its own key ring). She also makes sure that some of his favourite brands of things are always in stock at her place - coffee, shampoo, aftershave. Once she buys him a Say Anything t-shirt as part of their inside joke that young Red would have fit in really well with the 20-something movie stars of the 80s.Red: Every little thing that makes him think of her, or that he thinks she’ll like, or that he likes that he wants to give to her, he buys for her. He also never shows up at her apartment empty handed - bringing wine, or some fancy snack. He especially likes buying her clothes, so when they’ve been together for a few months Liz actually has to sort out her wardrobe because she just doesn’t have space for her clothes anymore.

Who kissed who first:Liz kissed him. It was soft and slow and filled with longing. He barely hesitated, wrapping her up in his arms and sighing into her mouth. It was a very good first kiss

Who made the first move:The first time they went undercover as a couple, Red made sure to kiss her bare shoulder, or behind her ear, and Liz steadfastly believes that because of this, he made the first move. Red says she made the first move earlier that night, when she got into his car in that backless dress, and gave him a look so devastating that he had no choice but to touch her all night.

Who remembers things: Liz remembers the normal every day things. Pick up this from the dry cleaners, file your taxes, wash the pants you want to wear on Friday. Red remembers the in between things. Her favourite flavour of ice cream when she’s on her period, the movies she wants to watch but haven’t got around to yet, where she’s always wanted to go and what she wants to do when she gets there.

Who started the relationship:Liz did. After the first kiss, and all the kisses that followed that night, Red still wasn’t presumptuous enough to assume that that meant they were together now. She had to tilt his face up to hers and physically tell him, “That wasn’t the last time I’m going to kiss you, and I refuse to let it be the last time you kiss me. I’m sure about you, and I want to be with you. In a relationship. Formally.”

Who cusses more: Red, for all his poise and decorum, can cuss up a storm when he’s upset. Liz tells him to not be so dramatic and soothes him by scratching the back of his head, which instantly calms him down

What would they do if the other one was hurt: Liz: Worry worry worry. She would be by his side as often as she could be, holding his hand and keeping him company. When he feels a little better she tearfully tells him that he has to be more careful, he has to take less risks because she doesn’t know what she’ll do without him.Red: Arranges the best possible care, hires a 24 hour nurse to be there when he can’t. Finds the person that hurt her and kills them. Returns to her side to comfort her. Runs his hand through her hair and kisses all over her face.

Who is the dirty talker:Red will randomly start dirty talking in the middle of the day when they’re out at the park or the grocery store and it drives Liz insane, because 1) she needs to finish buying the ingredients for dinner and 2) that’s 100% not going to happen now, because they need to leave immediately. During softer, more tender moments the dirty talk has a more reverent tone, which does not drive her insane, it just makes her fall deeper and deeper and deeper in love

A head canon:Red is scared of rollercoasters. He doesn’t enjoy being that out of control, he doesn’t like the horrible build up of suspense as the coaster climbs toward the first drop. He doesn’t like the way Liz teased him about his eyes being screwed shut during the one time she persuaded him to go on one, or the blue smudges of his fingertips that marked her hands for a week after. He’d much rather go on the ferris wheel, or play rigged games to try and win her a stuffed toy but he is not going on a rollercoaster again.

#lizzington #this was fun #these take super long tho but i love it #i love them #sorry for the bullets but the formatting on this is from hell so i just kept it #dinahdrakes

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