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dadbodfanatic-x · 2 years ago

Text

Paper Rings; pt. 2

Jim Hopper X Original female character

A/N: I know Billy doesn’t come in till later but he just got the part I had in mind so well I had to. The only warning so far is language

Jim Hopper was an intimidating man, his stature was large and his voice was booming but if you took the time to really look at him you’d see that those broad shoulders were pushed up to his ears from stress, his jaw was clenched so hard you could almost hear his teeth crack under the pressure and while his foot steps were heavy it sounded like a man bogged down by exhaustion.

“We should probably talk in my office…” hopper said, nostrils still flared from the sideways glance and huff he was giving his officers after your introductions.

“Yeah probably” you tried to force on a smile as you followed him into the room.

You were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, you could tell the man was aggravated and you saw him groaning with his forehead against the wheel when you walked into the station before him but at the same time it was infuriating how this was another man in a powerful position trying to judge you before they even get to know you. You decided you were going to be firm the minute you sat down because he thinks you’re just some college kid here to ruin his life.

“Just so you know, I’m not here to “bust your balls” as you so eloquently put it” you let out a small laugh “I’m here for more training for school and a job”

Hopper barely even looked up from the paperwork he was doing to address you and for some reason that irritated you more than it should have, this man was more irritating the longer you spent with him.

“Well I’ve never had the mayor have me come down to his office to pitch me an employee before so it seems like you might be” he put down the pen now and was staring right through you.

“I didn’t ask the mayor for a job, I came here to the station a week ago to talk to you about the job. One of your lovely officers first assumed I was someone upset you didn’t call me back after you slept with me…” you watched the red flow straight to the tips of his ears. He was listening now. “And then when I told him that wasn’t the case and I was looking for a job opportunity he told me you didn’t need another secretary no matter how pretty I was. I left before I punched him in the face and caught a charge, I was gonna come back to see you the next day but your lovely mayor overheard and stopped me as I was walking out and asked me about what I was looking to do. Once I told him he seemed more than thrilled to pitch me to you himself. I could smell that political smugness rolling off him as he hatched his little plan. He just must have got to you before I did”

you watched as the gears in hoppers head began turning, he stood up quickly and waltzed his way to his door and looked out into the room of people “which officer?”

You responded rather quickly “I don’t know he didn’t introduce himself and I don’t think saying the dickhead would help you narrow it down”

Hopper laughed an audible gut laugh which made you smile, really smile. The kind that makes your eyes wrinkle up and your nose twitch and that’s when Hopper realized he might actually like having you around after all. You call his officers out on their bullshit, you make Flo laugh which is always nice and hell you’re really pretty, not that he was paying attention.

“I think for the first little bit you should just stick with me till you learn the town and the people then you can go out with the other officers on calls…” Hopper said as he turned around to face you. Just as you were about to answer a knock sounded at his door.

“Hargrove’s out at the quarry again and he’s got people calling and complaining about the music and his driving…” an officer you didn’t know let you both know.

“This fucking kid…” Hopper groaned as he motioned for you to come on. He opened the door and you walked through. He didn’t see you stop to introduce yourself to the officer so after he locked his office he turned and almost ran you over. He stuck his hand out to gently guide you out of the way and placed it on your lower back to squeeze by.

“Shit sorry…I didn’t mean to be in the way” you told him as you stepped aside, you could feel the blush running up to your cheeks and into your ears. Damn your body reacting to his hand on your lower back. As you tried to regain your composure you definitely caught the slight smirk he had on his face.

“It’s okay…sorry about that” he said, creating a mental note of the reaction he got from you.

The drive to the quarry was fairly quiet. Hopper was just giving you a basic rundown of the things that happen in the town, nothing too exciting which is honestly what you expected. Right before you arrived he informed you that this was the third complaint he had received about this Billy kid and his damn car, telling you the kid was a real wise ass so just to expect that. As you pulled into the area you watched the boy point at the car and say something to the girl, she turned just as you were exiting the vehicle and rolled her eyes rather hard. You could smell the weed before you even stepped foot out of the car, typical teenage shit you were sure you’d see a million more times.

“Chief Hopper, lovely to see you as always” the shit eating grin this kid had on his face was already so annoying “oh and I see you’re bringing your new girlfriend on ride alongs now. Look at you hop she’s kinda pretty…right? He looked the girl and nodded

“Meh he could do better…” she said loudly, and all you could do was think “oh this bitch…”

Before Hopper could even get a word out you stepped a little in front of him so he could see you take charge.

“Yeah…he’s actually been telling me about this kid with a shitty car and an even shitter mustache who’s been taking all these different girls out here. What is this Hop? The fourth or fifth time?” You politely spoke playing your role as the lovely doe eyed girlfriend.

“Are you fucking kidding me billy?” The bitchy girl answered as she shoved him in the chest. She turned on her heels quickly and got into his car. Slamming the door hard as she grumbled under her breath.

“Wait Stacy baby, she’s lying…” he tried to go after her but she just told him to take her home. He turned around absolutely pissed with his eyes set on you.

“Have a good ride home Billy…” you waved as you got back into Hopper’s car. The shit eating grin on your face did nothing to match the look of amazement on Hoppers face as he slid in next to you.

“That was….you’re gonna do great here” he said as he rolled over the ignition. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face the whole car ride back to the station.

#jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper #stranger things #chief hopper #jim hopper x reader #paper rings #part 2

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convenientalias · 3 years ago

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would you be willing to rate cdramas on: your recommendations for someone who hasn't seen many cdramas yet?

I can try. But also the first cdrama I ever completed was Nirvana in Fire, which I've heard a lot of ppl specifically say is not a good first cdrama. So this is all with a grain of salt.

Also, to be noted: I assume that a drama delving into Chinese culture is not a minus in this case, as long as it's still comprehensible or would be with a little research. (E.g. when I watch a historical drama set in an era I have no experience with, I usually do a little googling at the confusing bits and come out fine.)

Also to be noted: Since I usually just rate every cdrama I've ever watched (...it's only eleven. I'm also a person who hasn't seen THAT many cdramas, tho there are more I've DNFed) I'm just going to do that even if I don't actually rec the drama at all. You get a range!

So with no further ado, here are the dramas:

Ancient Detective--8/10 as an introductory drama, actually I think this is a good choice in a lot of ways. There are a lot of wuxia aspects to the show, from wanderers in the jianghu to martial sects to bands of bandits to legendary doctors to improbably perfect disguises to weak heroes who faint because they have a curse of coldness on them. So it's kind of cool as an introduction to that genre. However, it's also just a case procedural show, and the plot's easily understandable. Also, it's only 24 episodes, making it the second shortest drama on this list. I feel I must mention that the next shortest dramas here (Granting You a Dreamlike Life, Handsome Siblings, and Weaving a Tale of Love, tied) are 40 episodes long. Love Is More Than a Word is shorter. But Love Is More Than a Word is not very good (I love it but its quality is not high).

The Disguiser--7/10. What's not to love about a spy drama? Gave me a crash course on China's politics in WWII. Has a lot of intrigue and great characters. There is a small fandom. It is in love with a pair of adoptive brothers who are also employer and employee (and kind of ships the two) and it is not wrong about this but what I want is for ppl to care more about is the youngest brother of the Ming family and his awful relationship with his ruthless and manipulative spymaster mentor. which broke me into small pieces. Not rated higher bc 1) I think most ppl who watch this first watched Nirvana in Fire and became obsessed with one or more of the actors in it so I'm sure that influences our perception of it and 2) it has some episodes that are just kind of boring and a couple things about it really annoy me. (Like, why can't ppl show Ah Cheng some more respect, damn it?!)

The Flame's Daughter--God, I don't know. On the one hand, inter-sect intrigue, martial arts, vengeance, incredible whump, beautiful and color coded costuming, all things I love. I am constantly trying to get more ppl to watch this show. On the other hand I want to punch the male lead in the face, the main romance sucks, and the main plot only really kickstarts at about, hm, episode 6 or 7. And it only gets REALLY good (just imo) around episode 20-ish. But also, Dilraba Dilmurat! Even if her character develops slowly, I just love her! Idk, pick between a 8 (for "please watch this I am begging you") and a 4 (for "you might just quit around episode 4 and I wouldn't really blame you").

Granting You a Dreamlike Life--Again, can I rec this show? I'm really not sure I can rec this show. The love triangle, depending on how you feel about the characters and about love triangles in general, could easily be a huge drag. Also it's non-stop melodrama and tropiness. But it has nice whump and also has Zhu Yilong (most ppl know him from Guardian, which is not on this list bc I never finished it. He's a good actor). I guess I'll give it a 5/10. If you try it, try not to get bogged down in the first half (more like 3/4) of the first episode, which is all framing device.

Handsome Siblings--There are a few adaptations of the novel Handsome Siblings is based off of out there. I'm talking about the 2020 version. And honestly? 8/10. For me this show is the best wuxia I've seen, and probably the most classically wuxia at that. It is very over the top. A lot of Villains and Heroes who are self aware enough to call themselves literally villains and heroes. But it's also doing a little commentary on this--Jiang Xiaoyu, the real MC, calls himself both a hero and a villain depending on the day, and the real villains who drive most of the overarching conflict of the show are believed to be heroes by the general public. Anyway it's just a lot of fun. I only take the last two points off bc 1) the deuteragonist, Hua Wuque, is a drag, and his romantic arc is even more of a drag, and 2) there's definitely some sexism going around--sexual harassment jokes, for example, and Jiang Xiaoyu being generally sleazy. So those are serious downsides but I think the pure fun of the show makes up for it. Idk I think it's worth at least trying out. (...just make it past the first episode and a half of backstory before you judge.) ALSO THE FOOD LOOKS REALLY GOOD.

Joy of Life--4/10. I'm biased; I don't like Joy of Life very much even though a lot of people like it a lot. But apart from that assessment. Imo Joy of Life is a parody and a genre mash-up and better watched after you've already watched one or two more serious (or at least earnest, if humorous) wuxia or palace intrigue dramas. Like, it's more fun to see the Crown Prince and Second Prince awkwardly feuding if you've already seen Nirvana in Fire princes doing the same with a way higher sense of gravity. Watching Joy of Life before watching a sincere wuxia or palace intrigue drama would be like getting into Watchmen as someone who doesn't know superhero comics--it's not like you can't do it, but it kind of feels like you're skipping a step. That said, you said recs for someone who hasn't watched "many" cdramas, so, depending, it might be fine. But I also just don't like it that much. I think the characterization and tone are kind of weak. (...in general, ppl disagree with me on this.)

Love Is More Than a Word--5/10. On the one hand, very slashy and very SHORT, which is not something I can say about many cdramas. On the other hand, disappointing ending. I'm trying to rec cdramas that make you want to watch more cdramas, not ones that make you say "huh, well, that sure was a show" or tear your hair out. But again, it's short, so if time commitment's an issue, you could do worse. And it has fun historical vibes and a litttttle political intrigue.

Nirvana in Fire--Subjectively 10/10. The first cdrama I ever watched to completion, the drama that hooked me on cdramas in general. And imo easier to follow than many political dramas, bc Mei Changsu (or Prince Yu or Jingyan, depending on the episode) always takes a moment to monologue to the audience surrogate (usually Meng) and say "if you can't tell what I'm trying to do here. This is what I'm trying to do." So it's not too overwhelming. Also it's just. really good. And a lot of ppl view it as one of the best cdramas ever. And there's an actual fandom with a lot of good fic. However, objectively, the first couple episodes can be confusing, and the show in general is kind of dry. so if I was being objective I might rate it lower but I'm not going to bc this is my list.

Sword Dynasty--2/10 the real question is why would you watch this at all. But if you're a beginner with cdramas maybe you wanna watch a drama with a lot of swordsfighting and that's valid. But maybe you should watch Handsome Siblings or The Flame's Daughter or literally any other drama instead bc Sword Dynasty honestly is just not good. And it's very confusing! So confusing! I honestly thought I'd missed an episode when I started the first episode and never quite got over the sense of holes in the narrative and characterization; stuff I felt like I was supposed to already know, characters I felt like I was supposed to already be invested in. There are some good actresses here and some nice fighting scenes but I do not recommend the show.

Weaving a Tale of Love--5/10 in that I wouldn't discourage watching it but I don't think it would be very rewarding as one of your first cdramas. It's got some lovely episodes--fun political intrigues, cute flirtations, angst, all the good stuff. The aesthetics are good and the main actress is really cheerful and just fun to watch. But it really takes its time getting started. The first couple episodes are backstory, and then you have to see Liuli as an adult, and then Liuli has to sort of meet some people and her love interest and do some shenanigans, and THEN you finally get to the main political intrigue and revenge subplot. I didn't get bored by any of these arcs but I think for a beginner it might get frustrating. It's also not good enough that I'd put it in a category of "something you simply MUST watch". It's popcorn.

Winter Begonia--7/10, but with emphatic pros and cons both. This show has a lot going for it: It's slashy. It's a historical, and not in a vague wuxia sense; it's set solidly in the 1930s and deals with culture and events of the time. Watching Chinese opera in this show is a great look at a traditional Chinese art. It also has a lot of adventure, intrigue, shenanigans... However, the tone might be off-putting to some watchers, because the tone is a bit hard to place. Sometimes it's very melancholy, talks about changing times and living in a country at war. Other times it's slapstick comedy, and characters are yelling at each other or chasing each other around tables. Or petty intrigue, opera-circle melodrama and sabotage. Often it's more than one of these things in the same episode, or even in the same scene. For me it took a couple episodes to really get a sense of what Winter Begonia was going for in terms of tone, so I don't know if it would be a bit difficult for a beginner in cdrama-land to get a handle on it. However, I've shown this show to my mother, who had previously only watched two other cdramas, and she enjoyed it a lot. So honestly I feel I can rec it with a clean conscience.

And now I should really go to bed.

#cdrama #idk. was this coherent?#i hope #anyway i had fun rambling so thanks for the ask

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grifalinas · 4 years ago

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Batter Up (working title) (Chapter 5)

-/-

Flint took Radley with him to help bring back lunch, and while they waited for their orders, he finally calmed down enough to actually talk.

“You knew about Deacon, didn’t you,” he asked.

“I knew he was lying about his age,” Radley said. “He was at school with me, he graduated last summer. He used to give me a hard time.”

“That why you were fighting?”

Radley nodded, a little embarrassed. “It felt like a chance to finally get my own back, so I thought I’d try needling him a bit. I wasn’t expecting him to swing on me.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t kidding, you know, I take responsibility for us fighting.”

“Yeah, well.” Flint gave him a sour look. “I don’t like him lying about being able to bake. That’s what I need him for.”

“Not really.” Radley gestured vaguely at himself. “You taught me all your recipes since I was a toddler, I could make them blindfolded, and by the time school lets back in you’ll be able to hire someone else. Demand probably won’t be super high after the first week we’re open, and if it is, you’ll be able to afford more employees anyway.”

“All the more reason to fire him, then.” He huffed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes, then huffed again and slipped a sequined scrunchy from his wrist to pull it all back with a grumble. “What do I need him for when I’ve got you?”

“He can run the front and be an extra set of hands, since Mr. Bassington can’t do any heavy lifting and won’t let Eddie. Actually I feel like Deacon will really thrive if you put him doing heavy lifting.”

“I have you to do my heavy lifting.”

“I’m still a minor. I’m pretty sure those liabilities apply to me, too, and Mr. Bassington just looked the other way. But he’s not going to for very long.”

Flint leaned back in his chair with a groan. “What in the world has Raphael gotten me into? That man is way too controlling.”

“He’s doing his job.”

Flint let out a frustrated little growl. “Changed your tune, have you?”

“He makes a better second impression. Things have gone way smoother with him organizing everything. And he puts his money where his mouth is when it comes to protecting his employees. He isn’t just worried about legal issues, he really does try to protect the people under him.”

There was a long silence, and Radley added, a little hesitantly, “You looked like you were about to start swinging on Deacon earlier.”

“I wanted to,” Flint admitted. “I like to think I wouldn’t have…” He shook his head. “But there’s no way for Sam to have known one way or another.”

There was another long silence, Flint mulling over the Deacon situation while Radley scrolled social media in an idle sort of way. Finally Flint sighed and slumped, a little defeated.

“Guess I owe the kid an apology,” he said. “And Sammy, too…”

-/-

Samuel felt it might help cool Flint’s temper a little if the kitchen was cleaned up by the time he got back, so he set Deacon and Eddie to do that while he went back to supervising the work crew and getting everything else done.

While Radley and Deacon appeared to have declared each other public enemy number one, Deacon seemed to have no such animosity for Eddie, though the two had interacted little thus far. Eddie seemed intent on making up for this discrepancy now that they were working on a task together, though.

“-and Mr. Bassington says he’s going to introduce me to Rosie and we’re going to be best friends so I’m trying to decide what things I like that he didn’t mention her liking that I should try to introduce her to and I’m thinking of seeing if she listens to Angel DJ on the radio because that’s my favorite radio show and if she gets into music through Angel DJ then we can get into music on the same path instead of both of us discovering stuff, not that that isn’t fun but it’s really fun to find stuff together, me and Radley used to get into stuff through Angel DJ together all the time but then he stopped really caring much about getting into music except as something fun to play while you do other stuff and I like music as something that exists in its own right and should be experienced by itself too and Radley doesn’t like looking up stuff about the artists like how what I do so he’s not fun but I bet maybe I hope that Rosie will be into music like how what I’m into music so we can be into music together.”

Deacon gave her a second to make sure that was actually the end of the sentence and poked his head out of the oven he was cleaning to ask, “What’s Angel DJ?”

“It’s a radio show! Angel is just some guy, he broadcasts from his apartment and he isn’t tied to any specific radio station so he can just play whatever he likes, so he just plays stuff he’s into. He’s been on a bit of an eighties rock kick lately, and he’s playing a lot of Queen stuff so I’ve been really getting into them, I was watching videos of their performances on the internet and they’re SO cool.”

Deacon laughed. “No arguments there. I learned to play on Queen songs.”

“You play?” She lit up. “What do you play?! I don’t play anything, I kinda wouldn’t mind learning but I can’t even pick anything because I hear a song and I think ‘boy it’d be fun to play that I bet’ but there’s so many different parts that go into it that I just end up getting bogged down. What do you play? Guitar? Drums? Keys?”

“Uh… well I main bass, but I can do electric…” He rocked back on his heels to tick off on his fingers. “...Mother made me learn piano and violin so I can do keys and violin, and I was percussion ensemble in high school so most basic percussion, though I’m not great at drums, and I sing.”

Eddie stared at him with stars in her eyes and squeaked out, “That’s so cool~”

He opened his mouth to say he wouldn’t mind playing for her sometime, if she was into that, and was interrupted by the return of Flint and Radley. He clammed up, returning to the oven without a word, leaving Eddie to go help get the food unpacked and call the crew in. He listened to her chattering about how Deacon could play and liked Queen and wasn’t that SO cool?, and stilled to listen to their response.

“You don’t think it’s cool that I like Queen,” Radley said.

“That’s because you just like listening to them. Deacon learned to play on Queen songs.”

“You play?” Flint asked, when Deacon finally emerged from the oven to join them for lunch.

“He mains bass!” Eddie chirped before Deacon could answer.

“I like music,” he said. “It’s a good distraction.” There was a beat, and, seeing the opening, he added, “Sometimes I play with the house band next door, when one of their permanent musicians can’t make it. You should come hear me play sometime.”

Eddie lit up again. “Oh, can we? Can we, Uncle Flint? Please? Can’t we? Please can we?”

“We’ll… see,” he said, a little uncomfortable. “I think taking you kids into a bar is one of those things your old man would kick my ass for.”

Eddie deflated like a three month old birthday balloon. “I’m never going to be old enough to do anything fun.”

“And once you are you’re going to be carded for years,” Flint agreed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Sorry, kiddo, that’s just how it is.”

This got a huff, and she batted his hands away before turning to pout at her lunch.

“Sorry,” Deacon said, shuffling a little. “I wasn’t thinking about the age thing, I guess…”

-/-

After lunch, once everyone had gotten back to work, Flint decided to talk to Samuel first. His partner was guiding two of their contractors through putting up the menu boards; Flint took hold of his arm to get his attention, and startled back when Samuel jerked his arm back as if Flint’s touch had burned him.

“Sorry-” they both attempted at the same time, and Flint shook his head before jerking his head toward the office. “Can we talk?”

Samuel paused, and looked to the contractors, but they seemed to have the menu boards under control so he nodded and the two headed back to the office.

“I’m sorry,” Samuel began, before Flint could say anything. “I’m- sensitive to touch sometimes.”

Flint waved that away as unimportant. “I wanted to talk to you about earlier. I owe you an apology, and a thank you.”

“I don’t think I’m the one you owe an apology to.”

“I know. The kid’ll get one in a little while, I just want to get my thoughts in order before I talk to him.”

He sat down in his chair, and Samuel followed suit with a nod of approval. “Smart call.”

“Yeah, turns out I got a couple of braincells kicking around in here.” He cracked a lopsided smirk and then shook his head. “Anyway. I also wanted to thank you. I can’t say for sure that I wasn’t going to swing on the kid, even if I’d like to think I wouldn’t, but I can say for sure if I had you would have stopped me. I appreciate that.”

Samuel opened his mouth to say something, then shut it and shrugged. “We have a responsibility to protect the people we employ, and that includes from each other. I take that seriously.”

“Not a lot of people do.” He leaned his chair back with a sigh. “I wonder if that’s why Raphael sent you to me? She knows I got a temper. I’m a little impulsive, too. And I don’t always think things through…”

“To protect your employees from you? I doubt that. She seemed very invested in your success, and I don’t think she would be if she thought you were the sort to abuse your employees.”

“Not so much that, just someone to curb my impulses when they might have collateral damage.”

“Ah, right. That makes more sense.”

Flint watched him for another quiet moment, taking a few seconds to enjoy his rigid, perfectly controlled posture that did nothing to diminish the amount of him there was- here was a man who had never been taught to take up less space, though paradoxically his presence seemed to invite others into the space he was already occupying. Flint was struck with a bizarre desire to press into his side, enjoy his warmth while they shared… something, anything, it didn’t matter.

He shook the thought away.

“So if she sent you to keep me in line, what did she mean for you to get out of it? Think maybe she wants me to loosen you up?”

“Given she’s applied the words ‘tightly wound’ to me more than a few times in our friendship, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“You ever think Raph secretly wants to produce a sitcom? That’d explain all the odd couple situations she’s always setting up.”

Samuel chuckled softly at that, and Flint suddenly felt as if he’d been shot through the throat.

He must be staring, because Samuel was giving him a confused look. “Everything okay?”

“Wh-? Oh, yeah. Fine. Just didn’t know you were capable of laughing, that’s all.”

“Maybe if you didn’t run off every time your niece starts talking…”

Flint let out a startled bark of laughter at that. “Yeah? Try living with her, pal. I need a break sometimes, you know. Your girl a chatterbox too?”

“No, she’s very quiet. You’d hardly know she was there half the time.”

“When are you bringing her around? Eddie’s not going to stop pestering yout about it until you do.”

Another of those laughs that made Flint feel like curling his toes up. “To be honest, I’m hoping I can get some of the anticipation to wear off. Rosie is so wonderful but Eddie’s hopes are so high.”

“You’ll never do that. Eddie doesn’t curb her enthusiasm, she just gets more tightly wound up until she finally experiences the thing she’s excited about. We took her to an amusement park to see this singer she was into once and she got so excited she threw up. Keep putting it off and you’re just perpetuating the problem.”

“Hmm.” Samuel seemed a little put out by that, and stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I suppose I could have Theresa drop her off tomorrow? I’m sure she’ll be interested in seeing what we’ve got going on here anyway. She’s very nosy, though she’ll never admit that.”

Flint grinned. “Sounds like a plan!”

-/-

Unfortunately, after his chat with Samuel, Flint had to bite the bullet and talk to Deacon. He didn’t want to. He was still furious with the kid, still wouldn’t really mind just tossing him out and letting him be someone else’s problem.

But whatever he felt about Deacon’s choices, he had behaved far worse, and if he wanted to be the sort of man his kids could look up to, he had to be the sort of man that owned up when he misstepped. So he told Samuel to send the kid in, and took a seat behind his desk and tried not to look like he was sulking too hard over having to apologize.

Deacon slouched in like a spooked animal, like he fully expected Flint to start yelling at him again and, oof, that was fair. Suddenly apologizing felt a lot more doable and a lot more important.

“Siddown, kid, I’m not gonna bite you,” Flint said, waving vaguely at the second desk chair that Samuel usually occupied. “I just wanna talk. And I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have blown up like that.”

Deacon shrugged, like that didn’t factor to him, and said, in a rushed sort of way, “I’m not sorry about lying. Everyone lies on their resume and they even advise that.”

“They also advise learning how to fake the thing you’re saying you can do,” Flint said. “But that wasn’t really the issue, and you and I both know it.”

An uncomfortable silence descended. Deacon shifted a little in his seat, and said, “It’s cause of the help comment, isn’t it?”

Flint nodded. “I got my recipes from my ma,” he said. “She was an amazing cook, and an even better baker. She taught me and my si- brother coming up, but I was the one who really took to it.” He was silent for a long moment, thinking back to those days with his mother, explaining how every aspect of the recipe worked with every other aspect of the recipe, how to know if the process was working and how to figure out what was missing when it was.

Then he shook his head, dispelling the memory, and went on.

“Ma was a personal chef, she cooked for a lot of wealthy families. Made sure they always had a hot meal waiting without any effort on their part. You know how much thanks she got for it?”

Deacon was shrinking in his chair now, the full realization of what he’d implied hitting him. “‘M sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean…”

Flint gave him a few more seconds of discomfort before saying, “You should be. That’s the kinda toxic shit you gotta start unlearning now you’re on your own. There’s people out there without a tenth of what you’ve been handed that are worth ten times that, and you’re gonna be surrounded by them now. But. That don’t mean I gotta treat you like that. You’ll never learn like that.”

He leaned back in his chair, waiting in case Deacon had anything to put in, but the kid just stayed staring at the floor. Flint wondered what was going through his head, what he was thinking. If he was taking in what Flint was getting at, or just writing him off as some angry chef’s boy.

“As for your future here… I’ve handed you over to Sammy. Not just because you pissed me off, but also that. I don’t trust my temper enough to be directly in charge of you. But you still answer to both of us. I’m still your boss; Sam is just your direct supervisor.”

Deacon nodded, still staring down at the floor. Flint squinted at him, wondering where all of his fight had gone.

Hmm.

“Hey, kid. Why’d your old man cut you off? What was the decision you made that offended him?”

And, oh, there it was. Deacon bristled up like a rooster with a temper and said, “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“There it is. Knew you were in there somewhere. All right, go on, get back to work. Go on.”

He shooed him away; Deacon slouched out in a hurry, before Flint could start Talking To Him again.

-/-

#made the chapter longer and i think that helped the rushed feeling a lot #for the second draft i'll expand the first four chapters a bit to make them feel less rushed #this is way better #please don't reblog this! simply commenting will suffice!#batter up (working title)

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longitud-de-onda · 5 years ago

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Being Steve’s cousin and having an enemies to lovers relationship with Javi headcanons pls ;)

i loved this and it got kind of long, oops. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i don’t think anyone’s complaining.

Your company is opening an office in Colombia and you’ve been asked to assist with the transition. A two months in Bogotá sounds like a dream and you’re even more excited to see your cousin, Steve.

He and his wife have offered up their guest bedroom, and you’re thrilled at not having to work out a living situation.

Plus you and Steve were best friends growing up. You went to the same elementary school and were close until your family moved away. You still got to visit him all the time because your moms were two of the closest sisters in existence. You wondered often how they could get along so well. You hated your siblings growing up.

You finally make it down to Colombia and after a 24 hour grace period for the jet lag, Steve is begging to take you out to his favorite restaurant.

Connie loves watching the two of you smile like idiots while bickering, and calls in the reservation before you even agree to going.

When she says a reservation for four you stall, and she explains that Steve is best friends with his coworker, and that you have got to meet him, since he’ll probably be around more than half the time anyways. They’re practically like family now.

That night you’re waiting for this mysterious coworker at the restaurant, absentmindedly snacking on some appetizers while Connie and Steve act way too cute then should ever be allowed in public.

When Javier comes in with his tight pants and leather jacket you know exactly what kind of man he is, which is only confirmed by the way he greets you with a sickening grin.

“Well who do we have here?”

And you kind of want to puke because first of all, ew? And second of all? Connie said he was always around and if you had to be with the sort of guy who would be trying to get into your pants, you wanted a flight back to the states.

Things only get worse as the night goes on and the conversations slows, causing Javier to ditch the table to go up to the bar and start hitting on some poor girl who actually falls for his charm and is all over him.

He turns around to wink at Steve before making his exit, the woman clinging to his arm.

Steve just shakes his head and chuckles.

“You’ll get used to it. That’s just Javi.”

“It’s disgusting, Steve.”

Thankfully things get busy with the DEA and you’ve become bogged down with new employee training so you don’t really get the chance to be bothered by Javier for a week.

You have to go into the embassy to fill out some paperwork for US companies in foreign countries. You had cooked something for lunch and packed a second container, thinking that you might get the chance to drop some off for Steve. He hasn’t been home for a meal in a few days and you know home-cooked food can make a big difference.

The smile on his face at the bright red tupperware is worth all the pages you had to read that morning.

He can’t stop to talk for too long since he’s got way too much work.

Javier returns to the office, muttering about a bad meeting with someone from the CIA and Steve laughs.

“I’m gonna head back, nice seeing you, Steve,” you smile.

Javier only just notices that you’re back. He takes in the container on the desk and Steve’s newly refreshed expression.

“Playing housewife now?”

You almost punch him.

Instead you just walk out of the office.

As you leave you hear them talking.

“You really don’t like her, huh?”

“She’s too much of a goody-two-shoes.”

“Careful, Javi, she’s my best friend. And she’s family.”

“Doesn’t make her an interesting person.”

You try to forget about it until a week later when you’re back with some coffee for Steve. When you get to his office, Javier’s the only one in.

“Can you give this to Steve when he gets back?”

“Do it yourself.”

“I would but he’s not here, obviously.”

“Fine.”

You scoff. This guy’s really an idiot, “Fine.”

A day later Steve and Connie invite you to go to a bar with them to unwind. That lasts all of thirty minutes, as the happy couple disappears into the bathroom, leaving Javier and you groaning.

“They’re the worst. I hate going out with them,” he says and you’re surprised.

“You hate it too?”

“It’s like they’re rubbing it in everyone’s face, how perfect everything is.”

You find yourself laughing, and the night goes by surprisingly fast as you discover that Steve has been on both your cases about being single. Steve’s been trying to match you up with random guys from the embassy, and has been dropping all these hints to Javier that he should be settling down by now, not out sleeping with informants all the damn time.

You go to sleep that night wishing you weren’t thinking about Javier and his goddamn smile.

You start going out with the three more often, teasing Javier when he gets rejected by girls and having him complain when you get drinks bought for you all the damn time and reject every single one of the guys.

“You’re exactly like all the girls who are ruining my night.”

Secretly, you're glad every time he’s turned down.

Your return flight is coming sooner than you expected, and two weeks out you get an offer to stay in Bogotá for a two year contract. But this has really just been a vacation, a nice one, but you’ve got a life back home, right?

Apartment. Job. A friend or two. (Maybe not really a life if you were willing to admit it. The past few weeks have got you living more than you have in the previous few years.)

One week away and Steve and Connie are out for a date. You’re spending the evening with a microwave dinner and some tv when a knock on the door reveals Javier with two beers in hand. You haven’t exactly been the type to hang out together without Steve facilitating things, but he’s here and you’re not complaining.

After sitting and talking for the better part of an hour he asks you about the suitcase in the corner of the room. It’s one of the two you brought down, and it’s all packed up for your flight.

“You’re really leaving, aren’t you?”

“Yes?’

He lasts maybe another five minutes before excusing himself. You could tell something changed.

You sit, sipping at the bottle for a little longer, thinking about leaving Colombia. It’s a lot sadder than you had expected it to be.

And then you realize you don’t like the idea of waking up and knowing there wasn’t the chance of Javier nagging you about something or telling you off for being an asshole to another “well-intentioned guy.”

You have to do something so you leave the apartment, run down the stairs and practically slam down his door.

Javier answers, a confused look crossing his face and he opens his mouth.

But he can’t get a word out because your lips are on his and your hands are around his neck. When he realizes what’s happening you can tell because he reaches on hand up to your face and the other around your waist and the kiss deepens in intensity.

You pull back.

“What was that?”

“I can’t leave, Javi. I can’t leave you. I can’t ignore this.”

“Really?”

“No. I’m going to take the job down here. I—I think I might love you.”

“Thank god,” he exhales and grins. “I thought I was the only one.”

#javier peña #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña headcanons #camila writes #rated g #under 2 #angst #fluff #c headcanon #request #narcos fic #javi x reader #anonymous #ask camila

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rpd-rookie · 5 years ago

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Under Her Extra-Large Umbrella - Chris Redfield x Reader (PART 1)

Summary: Chris Redfield has always been an honourable man but the things he's seen at Spencer Mansion leave him no choice. He must infiltrate Umbrella's French laboratory, whatever it takes, even if it means manipulating you. But how far he is ready to go?

Author’s Note: This fanfic involves a Post RE1 / Pre-Code Veronica version of Chris Redfield since it focuses on his trip to Europe that is mentioned in RE2. You will probably notice that I used the letter Chris wrote to his S.T.A.R.S. friends. It is actually what inspired this fan fiction in the first place. Gotta be honest with you, this fanfic made me shed blood, sweat and tears. I guess I rewrote it twice before coming to a rather satisfying version and I must have tear my hair out quite a few times when I was struggling with grammar. (BTW, tell me if you see some terrible grammatical mistakes so that I can correct them) Anyway, as usual, I hope you will like it. Please don’t forget to like/reblog and tell me what you think of it in the comment section.

Tags: Romance, Fluff, SMUT, Explicit Language, Manipulation and Treachery. Angst is come ;-)

Also available on AO3

“Better failing with honour than winning by cheating, son”. Chris could perfectly remember his father telling him those words. It was in 1990. Chris was a seventeen years old teenager finishing his Junior year, and they were driving back home from driving school right after learning he had failed his theory test contrary to that asshole Colin Monroe who had aced it thanks to a crib cheat hidden in his sock. He could also remember that his father’s wisdom had barely consoled him on that day - despite what he had let him believe - and that it had taken him quite some time to swallow the bitter pill and even more time to admit that his father was indeed right and that he should live by this motto. Months actually. Plus a tombstone with his parents’ names on it. Chris never regretted listening to his father. He never regretted promising him that he would do his best to become the man he would have wished him to be. That promise had made him the man he was today. A man who would never stray from the right path however tempting treachery could be. Someone loyal, upright and honourable. Someone his parents would be proud of.

And yet here he was, eight years later, a twenty-five years old cop, breaking the promise he had made his father and doing something so deceitful and selfish it would certainly make him roll over in his grave or wish he were still here to give his son a earful. But today, it was not something as silly as his driving licence that was at stake. It was the justice he owned to his fellow S.T.A.R.S. members, those he had lost at Spencer Mansion and those waiting for him in Raccoon City. It was the security of god knows how many people. This time, Chris had a burden on his shoulders that was way too heavy for him to accept a possible failure. And as terrible as it sounded, he was ready to do something bad for the greater good, whatever the cost, whatever his dead father may think of him from beyond the grave.

“To my bestest S.T.A.R.S. buds,

How are you all doing in that drab, old station? Hanging in there against old Irons? Me? I just got back from a date with a hot chick. Bet you can guess what we got up to under her extra-large umbrella. Europe is amazing. One month is in no way enough to even scratch the surface. Maybe I’ll extend my vacation for another six months. Barry, don’t even think of coming join me. Wouldn’t want to make all the cute girls cry, yeah? So you just leave the babes to me. Jill, if Claire tries to contact you, please let her know I’m OK.”

Chris put down the pen on his nightstand and took a look at his letter one more time with a proud amused smile. He knew that his friends, contrary to Irons, would get the hidden message behind that lame womanizer persona that was so unlike him. And hopefully, maybe the police chief would tell his friends at Umbrella his S.T.A.R.S. poster boy was nothing to worry about and just currently cruising for pussies in Europe.

“Writing to your friends again?” Chris looked up to see you standing in the doorway to his bedroom. You looked very tired, exhausted even, judging by the dark circles under your beautiful eyes, your loosened bun and the way you were leaning against the framework. “Yeah, to give them a small update on my vacation.” Chris folded the letter and put it in the drawer of his nightstand; not very keen on letting you read it. “Tough day?” “You have no idea.” You dropped your bag at the entrance of Chris’ room and went to fall down on his bed, your head on his crossed legs. “Wanna talk about it?” Chris asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know I can’t say much. Professional confidentiality and all. ” “I didn’t know working for Umbrella was like working for the CIA.” Chris joked, trying to tone down the disgust he was feeling each time he had to pronounce the word Umbrella. You smiled, too tired to laugh and glanced at Chris who was staring at you.

God, why did you have to be so beautiful and so sweet and yet so not good for him? Why did you have to work for Umbrella? And how did he allow things to be that way between the two of you?

Chris could remember the day he had first seen you, the day he had chosen not be moral and honourable for once in his life. It was almost a month ago. He had been in Paris for a couple days, trying to find a way to infiltrate Umbrella’s French laboratory, which was even more impenetrable than Zone 51, the lab being a real fortress (with automatic secured doors, CCTVs, guards and a severe ‘no visitor allowed’ policy) only accessible if you were the lucky owner of a white and red badge. And you had happened to be one. Leaving the lab for lunch break, happy to finally feel the warm sun on your face, it hadn’t been your beautiful [h/c] hair loosely tied back in a high ponytail or your twinkly [e/c] eyes that had caught Chris’ attention (even though yeah he had noticed). No it had been that badge, that stupid badge carelessly hanging from the front pocket of your lab coat. And it had also been that badge that, unfortunately for you, had made him organise a plan to trick you and get his hands on it, that badge that had made you the victim of his very first treachery.

Your meeting was – unbeknownst to you – the most unnatural meeting ever. Chris had calculated everything. When? Lunch break. Where? The nearby boulangerie where you used to be eating. What to say? “Désolé. Bonjour. Puis-je m’assoir avec vous?” which meant “Sorry. Hi. May I sit with you?” in French of course, because Chris had figured that playing the part of the poor American tourist with a terrible French accent trying to adapt in the city of love would be much more appropriate for the situation. And it had worked. He had sit at your table, had exchanged a few words with you and had found you surprisingly friendly and adorable for an Umbrella employee. But of course, as the majority of Chris’ plans, the meeting hadn’t ended up the way he had imagined (meaning him discreetly stealing your badge) simply because of a tiny detail he hadn’t thought of; you had forgotten your badge at the lab, leaving him no choice but to improvise and organise a second meeting that he had dared called a rendez-vous.

And here he was, weeks later, sharing your apartment and occasionally your bed and definitely bogged in a way bigger deceit that the one he had originally planned, one he knew he would not be able to get out easily. And to answer the question, did Chris manage to get his hands on your badge? Well, yes and it was now safely hidden in his room to be used at the proper moment. If only he could shut his guilt away as well. Things would be much easier.

“What did you do today? Sebastien told me he barely saw you.” Sebastien was your other roommate. A nice redhead guy as well as a curious unstoppable chatterbox. “Oh, nothing interesting. I woke up early to jog at the Bois de Boulogne then I spent the rest of day wandering in the city.” That was half a lie. Yes, he had gone for a run at the Bois de Boulogne but he hadn’t spent the afternoon visiting Paris. No, he had spent his afternoon trying to reach the FBI from a phone booth in order to know if they had some news concerning Irons or the Mansion Incident. Unsuccessfully. “If you want, we can spend this Saturday together. I’m sure I can show you few places you haven’t seen yet.” “Aren’t you working this Saturday?” You were always working on Saturdays. “I need a day off to clear my mind a bit.” That didn’t sound like you. You were too much of a workaholic to prefer spending your Saturday playing guide to your American roommate. “Now, consider me worried. What’s up at work?” Chris asked, concerned not only because he knew something terrible could be happening at Umbrella but also because he couldn’t help but caring about you, Umbrella worker or not. “Those last days have been a bit tough that’s all.” You wouldn’t tell him more. You couldn’t. For so many reasons. “Well in that case, what do you think about me running you a nice hot bath?” You glanced up at Chris. He had drawn your attention in a very interesting way. “That depends. Will you be with me in that bath?” You asked cheekily. “Do you want me too?” He smirked and you put your hand on his neck to pull him closer to your face. You pressed your lips softly against his; sighing in this kiss you had been dreaming about all day, as Chris brought you against his broad chest, his strong arms now holding you tight against him. You felt so safe in his embrace and that’s what you needed right now.

Chris pecked you a couple times before laying one last kiss on your forehead with a tenderness that made you melt in his arms. “I’m gonna go run you that bath, okay?” You nodded. “Join me in ten minutes.” Needless to say that those ten minutes were the longest you had ever experienced. Probably because they gave you plenty of time to dwell on the things you had experienced today at the lab, the things you had seen, the things you wanted to forget and yet couldn’t. You got up and grabbed the bag you had left by the door to search for a small notebook that you opened with a desperate sigh. Then, you took the pen on Chris’ nightstand and started scribbling notes and drawings in it. A habit you had taken a few months ago and that somehow helped you from not cracking up.

You guessed you took more than ten minutes when you heard Chris clear his throat by the door, only wearing a small towel around his wait. Goodness, what a sight. You quickly closed the notebook as soon as you spotted him and put it back in your bag while he pretended not to notice. “Haven’t you forgotten something, mademoiselle?” He smirked and you giggled. “Have I?” “Yes. I think there is a naked man waiting for you in the bathroom.” He joked and you approached him with a amused yet cheeky smile. You put your hands on his chest, feeling his muscles against your palm, as you looked up at his face with a mischievous look. “Is he hot?” “Right now, he is very hot.” He confessed, absolutely in the mood to play with you. “Better not keep him waiting, then.” You purred and you put your hand on one of the straps of your summer dress to gently make it slide along your shoulder. That small sight of your naked skin made Chris hiss and unable to resist the urge to lay a trail of soft warm kisses from your neck down to your shoulder. You could tell the smoothness and the perfume of your skin were driving him crazy as his mouth soon started devouring you and muffled growls began vibrating in his throat. His calloused hands roamed down your back, making you instinctively move your hips closer to his crotch, and he unzipped your dress. It dropped at your feet revealing your body that Chris gazed at with his brown eyes darkened by desire. They lingered on your breasts and you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to touch them. He loved them too much for that. And so, his hands cupped them and his thumbs brushed your hard nipples. “Gosh, Y/N.” He breathing in, trying to calm his heart pounding in his chest “I can’t wait any longer.” Chris suddenly grabbed you and hoisted you up with incredible ease, hands under your ass, which made you yelp. Nevertheless, you instinctively wrapped your legs around him, making his towel fall to the floor. “Oops. That was not voluntary.” You giggled. So did he. “Right.” And he rushed towards the bathroom, with you in his arms, his lips devouring yours in a hasty burning kiss on the way.

He set you up on the double washstand and quickly locked the door behind him, giving you a brief view of his divine firm behind, though you liked the front as much if not more right now. “What are you looking at like that?” He smirked. Well, his chiselled chest, his carved abs and that big hard cock. What a silly question! But you couldn’t say that and so instead you urged Chris to come closer to you, spreading your legs to welcome him between them. He obeyed but instead of giving you that lustful hug and passionate kiss you were expecting, he crouched in between your legs and remove your panties, kissing your smooth legs, from thighs to feet, as he did. You clearly knew where that would eventually lead but you moaned anyway when you felt Chris put your legs on his shoulders and burry his face in between your thighs. “I told you I’d help you relax.” “What about the hot bath?” You tilted your head towards the bubble bath he had run for you few minutes ago. “Oh don’t worry, we’re getting there. But first you know how much I like licking your pussy.” He winked and his tongue lapped your slit up to your clit without waiting another second. A loud moan escaped your mouth as Chris sucked your bud loudly, pulling it between his lips, and he looked up at you with a proud smirk before focusing his attention back on your pussy. He was good, very good even, way better than any other men you had ever been with. He knew exactly how to please you. He knew where the tip of tongue had to swirl to make you shiver, knew the right spot to suck to make you moan and when to add his fingers to make you cry out his name - which was right now by the way. “Oh my god, Chris!” You mewled loudly as you felt one of his fingers entering you, his mouth still eating your pussy up. Your legs instinctively clenched around your lover’s head while one of your hand found its way in his short hair. Then you heard Chris hum in between your thighs as he kept on licking you and fucking you with his finger, adding one more in the process. You pulled his hair back, forcing him to look at you. “Fuck me, please. Fuck me now.” Chris complied and, after his tongue slid one last time in between your lips, he stood up to catch your lips in a new passionate kiss, making you taste your juices on his expert tongue. You could feel his cock against you, hard and slightly throbbing already, showing how impatient and aroused he was. “Enter that bath, quick.” He ordered with a deep voice that made you shake against his body.

You obeyed and gladly let your burning body sink in the bubbly water, the lukewarm water cooling you off a bit (which wasn’t a bad thing). You were soon followed by Chris who entered the bath with a brutal eagerness that made the water waved a bit too much around both your bodies. “Don’t flood the apartment.” You giggled as you spread your legs to make him a place in the tub. “I can’t promise you that.” He confessed amused, as he grabbed his length in his hand to jerk it off a bit and guide it towards your begging entrance waiting for him under the water. He tickled your swollen clit with his tip before entire you almost smoothly making you draw a sharp breath. “Damn, you’re so tight.” Chris growled as he took hold of the edge of the bathtub above your head to push himself deeper inside of you, enjoying your wet walls around his cock. “You’re fucking big, you mean.” You said with a painful hiss that brutally calmed his ardour and made him consider immediately pulling out of you. “Sorry. Am I hurting you?” He worried, aware his girth needed get some getting used to and afraid that he hadn’t given you enough. “No, no. It’s okay. Just give me sec.” You cleared your throat and adjusted yourself underneath Chris, spreading your lips with your fingers to welcome him the way you both desired. Hard, big and rough. “Okay. Good now.” “You sure?” He asked, definitely not willing to hurt you. You nodded and pressed your lips against him to show him how much you wanted him right now. He got the message and started moving inside of you, slowly yet deeply for now.

You dug your nails in his biceps and started moaning; taking delight in feeling him going in and out of you. It was just the most divine sensation in the world. He filled you so perfectly. “Chris. Please. Faster.” You begged. He complied and started pounding you more quickly, hands still on the edge of the tub, towering you with his muscular body to assert his dominance over you the way you liked it. But it wasn’t enough for you and so you wrapped your legs around him forcing him to go balls deep inside of you. Chris smirked, loving your initiative. “You like it deep and rough, baby?” You cried out. “I didn’t hear you” “Yeeess.” You whimpered with small tears in your eyes. He hammered you harder, spilling water on the bathroom floor, and you clenched your walls around him. “Oh god!” You yelled, out of breath.

He was relentless, so strong, so fast, so deep you could hear his body slam against your skin and echo the splashes of the waves in the tub. “Come here.” He lay on his back and urged you to come and straddle him. And so you climbed on top of him, admiring how handsome he was underneath you. “Guide me into you.” You did as he said and directed his throbbing cock to your wanting pussy, welcoming him again inside your wetness, Hands pressed against his pectorals, you immediately started undulating on top of him, feeling the pleasure coming back in your lower stomach. “That’s it. Keep going.” He whispered, gazing at you.

Chris’ hands crawled up your body to reach your breasts and play with them a bit, delicately pinching your pointy nipples, as you kept riding him. You knew he loved groping them and you also knew how much he loved them in his mouth as well. Therefore you decided to bent over him a bit, just enough for his face to reach your chest, holding on to the wall in front of you with one hand to keep your balance. Chris smiled, understanding perfectly your little game, and pulled one of your tits to his mouth to catch one nipple between his lips and suck it greedily. It was apparently very pleasurable for him (even maybe more than it was for you, and it was a lot) since he started humming and growling loudly. You enjoyed hearing and seeing him like this very much, so much you stopped riding him to focus on this spectacle.

It didn’t last long though as you soon felt you lover’s strong hands gripping your ass to make you bounce on his cock again. “I so want to cum, baby. Please make us both cum.” His words made you shiver of excitement and you locked your lips with his as you started rolling your hips onto him again. But it was certainly not enough for Chris since after few seconds he suddenly grabbed your hips to slam deep in your pussy and relentlessly pound you from underneath. You screamed his name and hold on tight to him. He was very rough, so rough you could barely breathe, but you didn’t mind at all. Soon, you felt your face become so red and your bundle of nerves become atrociously sensitive. You knew you were ready to explode. “Chris. I’m gonna cum.” He put his hand on your clit to stimulate it and help you reach your release, his cock hammering you even harder than before. You clenched your pussy around his throbbing cock, making him groan because of how tighter you suddenly were. “Tell me I can cum in you, baby.” He asked, panting. He was very close too. “Yes, cum in me.” You didn’t need to say it twice as Chris immediately growled in your ear, slowed his pace, and spread his cum in your pussy with a last animalistic grunt as you came undone on top of him, yelling his name, your powerful orgasm almost knocking you out.

You collapsed on him, incapable of remaining straight. “Wow. That was something.” He chuckled, exhausted and out of breath, and so did you. “You’re okay?” You looked up at him, raising your eyebrows. What a ridiculous question. “No, I’m being serious, Y/N. Wasn’t I a bit too rough?” He asked. “You were perfect.” You admitted before kissing him tenderly. “AND SO FUCKING LOUD!!!” You heard shouting from behind the wall. You both looked in the direction of the noise, understanding that your roommate had probably heard everything but despite the embarrassment you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Poor Sebastien. “Why don’t we get out of that bath and cuddle a bit in bed? The water is getting cold.” Chris offered. “I’d like that very much.” You smiled and managed to leave the tub, using the little energy you had left in your sore body.

As you dried yourself, you saw Chris head towards the door with a towel draped around his waist. “Where are you going?” You asked. “Taking some briefs in my room. See you in your room in a minute?” He smiled and you nodded, impatient to spend the night in his arms. “Can you bring me back my clothes and my bag while you’re at it?” “Sure.”

Chris closed the door behind him and headed towards his room where he put on some clean underwear and picked up your stuff as you had asked. But the moment he grabbed your bag and caught a glimpse of the black notebook he had previously seen you inside, he knew he would probably not join you as soon as he had told you. He watched it first, hesitant, knowing perfectly well that what he had in mind right now was very bad. It was one thing to steal a badge, but spying on you, that was going too far. “No, Chris. No.” He whispered to himself. And yet, he grasped the notebook and opened it. It was a diary of some sort judging by the numerous dates he noticed as he quickly leafed through it. And if it was a diary then it was indeed very private, intimate even, certainly not his to read. He thought about putting it back in your bag for a second, but what if something valuable to his investigation was inside that notebook? “Argh, fuck.” He cursed as he went to the first page.

“May, 14th 1998

Today made me regret the time I was just the intern bringing Professor Rochois his morning espresso. Umbrella is asking more and more of me, and the pressure they put on us workers is driving me insane. But what’s worse is that I’ve got the impression they are not telling us everything, especially concerning the experience the seasoned scientists are conducting in the north wing. But I guess I’ll soon have answers to my questions since Professor Rochois said that he was genuinely impressed by my devotion and was thinking of promoting me.”

Chris frowned, apprehension knotting his stomach. That didn’t sound good at all. He needed to learn more about that even if the moment was far from convenient. You could show up anytime and catch him red-handed. He turned a few more pages, rapidly skimming through some notes he would definitely read another day, until he spotted a weird drawing of some octopus-like creature. What the hell was that thing?

“June, 7th 1998

The NE-a parasite. A parasitic species indented to retain intelligence. It has been developed by Umbrella Europe for years. At first I thought it was just a revolutionary way to cure brain damage. After all, that’s how it had been advertised to me. But the more I study it, the more I believe Umbrella may be up to something else other than treating brain injuries or Alzheimer. I don’t know what and I’m not even sure I want to know.”

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. His body was shaking and he could feel fear eating him up and he started imagining terrible things. What if you were involved in the Spencer Mansion incident? No, no. You couldn’t be. And yet, Chris decided to have a look had the entries you wrote in July. He needed to reassure himself. One immediately drew his attention.

“July, 28th 1998

My superiors have been quite on edge lately, something to do with an incident that happened with the American branch of Umbrella from what I overheard. I don’t know what it is though, but I’m sure it must be pretty big because they doubled down security in the lab. The team and I have the impression we are living in a 1984 remake. The CCTVs are always recording and I sometimes have the strange sensation I’m being permanently spied on, even in the locker room. Maybe they have doubts about me because of the many questions I often ask about Project Nemesis.”

Project Nemesis? Y/N, what the hell were you working on in that lab?

#chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #resident evil #fanfic #under her large umbrella #re2 remake inspired fan fiction

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jessefandomunited · 4 years ago

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This Day Was Going to be Perfect Part 5

TW( needles and light torture)

~When the reader , who’s had a long time crush on Spencer, finds out Cat Adams is getting out of Prison on parole and wanting to talk to Spencer, she can’t help but be a bit suspicious.~

This fic was inspired by the song “ This day is going to be perfect” - MLP. enjoy

tag list: @raggabashie

I woke up dizzy and with a pounding headache. I opened my eyes slowly and found myself in a small dark space. My wrist were bound in front of my and so were my legs, it felt like ductape though, which could be taken off easily. It also felt like I was moving very quickly. I was definitely in a car, I tried my best to focus but my head was swimming. “Spencer, we are saving Spencer,” I mumbled and began kicking in the direction I thought the break-lights would be . I heard a small pop and a stream of light entered the trunk. I slowly lifted myself up and jammed my taped hands against my stomach, breaking the tape , the legs I could do later. I pivoted my body slowly and gently poked out the taillight so it wouldn’t be seen by whoever was driving. I was in a town a vaguely recognized, I think it was an hour or two from where I was but it was public. I saw a few cars pass and I tried to get their attention but they seemed in their own world. I sighed and pulled my hand back in and felt along the inside for the latch. I’m sure they thought i’d sleep the entire trip because the car had a latch to open up the trunk from the inside. First I had to get my legs free. I pushed my legs up the side of the trunk a bit and placed my hands together and positioned them in-between my legs aimed the gap in the tape. I forcefully pushed down separating the tape while also hitting my head on the roof of the trunk. I groaned a bit, my headache was getting worse. Quickly I pulled the rest of the tape off and grabbed the lever, I was going to have to move quickly. I looked out the tail light hole and checked for cars, none. I took two deep breaths and quickly opened the trunk and jumping out and put my arms over my head. The car had been going pretty fast and I felt that on the first impact. I cringed and forced myself to look up through the grit and pain, there were still no cars luckily and unluckily at the same time. I limped off the highway and began making my way to an off ramp. However one look behind me and my blood ran cold, the car was backing up. I took a few deep breaths and began to run. The pain was unbearable but I kept going, pushing myself more and more. The town was getting closer and my heart soared then my arm was yanked back. I let out a yelp and was now face to face with one of my captors , I hadn’t seen him before but he must have been a friend of Cat or Scratch. I tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he just laughed and pushed me into the back seat of the car and sat next to me. There was nothing I could do the doors had no handles and no lock visible I could try and fight back but I had literally just jumped out of the car. The man took out the ducktape and began rebounding me as the other guy began driving. “Where are we going,” I asked simply. “ Away, we will be stopping for the night soon though ,” He said simply. “ Great,” I said knowing i’d get another chance to escape. “ Don’t get too excited we have some things to keep you at bay,” The man next to me chuckled pulling out a syringe. I couldn’t do needles and I tried to kick back at him to move away but he just grabbed a hand full of my hair and stabbed it in my neck. I landed a punch straight to his nose and he tossed me back into my seat causing me to hit my head on the door. As I tried to sit up, I couldn’t my entire body felt almost lifeless. “ Wha….waa,” I tried to ask but my words slurred and spun away from me as the world once again darkened.

Had it been a day or a month or a week, I didn’t know. They kept me dosed so much that I only was lucid a few time every day. I was actively trying to find a way to escape , the team had to be wondering where I was and Spencer, I just hoped he wasn’t married yet. Today the guys had been gone a very long time, in fact I could actually move. I slowly sat up and noticed I was in the car still. I easily got out of my bonds just like last time and took a brief look around and didn’t see them at all, we seemed to be in a hotel parking lot. I slowly went into the drivers seat and immediately felt pain everywhere. I tried my best to ignore it but it was rough. I took out part under the searing wheel and tried to remember if I could hot wire this type of car, it seemed old enough so I could try, Spencer had told me all about hot wiring one day while we were on our lunch break. It was only a couple months ago but it seemed like forever. I’m coming Spencer!

I tinkered with it a bit and suddenly heard the engine roar to life. “ Thankyou Spencer,” I whispered. I sat up and looked around just in time to see the two guards running down the stairs. “ No you don't,” I yanked the car into drive and peeled off. I was so excited that I had gotten away that I forgot that I had no idea where I was, and a casual glance at the fuel gauge informed me I was pretty much out of gas. I hit the steering wheel in frustration but kept going the way I was hoping for something. It was pitch black out and the only thing opened were going to be gas stations. I took a few deep shaky breaths and tried to center myself, one thing at a time, first find somewhere that looks open and go from there. In a mile I saw a huge mega store that said “Open 24 hours” on the side, perfect. I hadn’t seen any cars following me but I still parked in the very back and snuck in through the garden center. I saw a couple employees talking to each other and immediately stop when they saw me, I must have looked terrible. “ Help,” was all I was able to get out, my throat felt like sandpaper and the drugs were still bogging me down a lot. They quickly called someone over the loud speaker but didn’t even attempt to touch me. I took a shaky breath and stuttered, “ I..i.. was kidnapped.” Their eyes got very wide at that and they beckoned me to follow them.

I was sitting in a back office with no windows which made me a little less nervous, a girl brought me a cup of water and asked if there was anything she could do while we waited for the police. I didn’t want the police there at all, If Spencers wedding was either happening or already passed I had to get him out of that. It was easy enough to get an annulment especially if the wedding had just happened but that wasn’t what was important, it was the simple fact he was being forced into something he couldn’t consent to properly. I want his wedding to be something he’ll remember and look back fondly on , not cringe. I came back to the moment and asked, “ what’s the day?” “ Oh it’s Friday uh..June 26th,” She said softly. “ THERE IS STILL TIME,” I yelled , his wedding was tomorrow, “ Please can I borrow your phone I have to call someone.” She nodded and hesitated before handing it to me. I luckily had memorized the number of the exact person I needed right now, Penelope Garcia. “Hello i’m awake,” A groggy Penelope answered. “ Oh my goodness it’s so great to hear your voice.” Penelope perked up immediately and yelled my name so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “ yes it’s me do you know where I am please,” I begged I really need to get to Spencer before the wedding. “ Yeah about that, Spencer told us you freaked out on Cat and you said you were leaving for good,” Penelope said, “ we’ve all been trying to call you but there was nothing and when I tracked your phone you were just at you apartment.” My stomach dropped , the illusion they constructed was quite intricate. “ Listen first , no I was kidnapped after I realized Cat’s plan, I’m assuming Scratch is in on this too just , I need you to hack into my phone there is a video on it that explains pretty much all of it,” I explained . “ OMG ARE YOU OKAY WHERE ARE YOU ,” She said frantically and I heard her already typing . “ I don’t know can you track me on this phone too. “ Oh oh no,” She mumbled , “well bad news you’re about six hours from here, good news your only a thirty minuet ride to the wedding venue .” “ PERFECT,” I said jumping up. The door opened and about four policemen came in, “ less perfect , I got to go.” I handed the phone back to the girl and stated my name as formally as I could adding in, “ FBI analysis at your service.”

#spencer reid #Criminal Minds #spencer reid x reader #this day was going to be perfect

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betabites · 5 years ago

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Ramblings on the Atlesian Military and Remnant Warfighters in General

I swear, I was just trying to get inside Winter's head for a fic, and things got out of hand. I have no idea if RWBY's writers know or care how the various military and paramilitary organizations of Remnant are structured. But I, woe to my creative process, have to figure this out, at least in broad strokes.

I'm basing all of this in what shows up in RWBY itself, and in the World of Remnant shorts. And while we don't have tons of details on military organization specifically, militaries reflect their parent culture, and we know a good amount about Remnant culture in general, and several Kingdoms in specific. And, RWBY being a show about awesome ladies kicking tremendous amounts of butt, we have a decent idea of military and paramilitary hardware.

Unlike Terra, Remnant suffers the constant threat of the Grimm. Which has implications for military actions. First of all, since Grimm are drawn to outpourings of negative emotions, anyone who wants to win a battle has to be prepared to win two in a row - first, against the actual enemy, and the second against the Grimm. Second, any long-term battlezone is going to be swarming with Grimm. If an army lays siege, they're going to have to be able to fight off both the Grimm and the defenders.

The bandit clan solution to this is lighting raids - get in, get the loot, get out before the Grimm (or local military) arrives. I'm not convinced that Remnant military operations look much different. Which explains why the Great War took place over so much of the world, as opposed to bogging down in a trench network outside Vale.

As far as the Great War specifically - Mantle and Mistral emphasized the society, Vale and Vacuo the individual. I'm imagining Mantle and Mistral just landing huge armies under tight command, and trying to perform a grand, sweeping, brilliant strategy, and it just keeps bogging down because field commanders have to keep calling back to command to ask for orders. Meanwhile smaller Vale & Vacuo forces, under independent commanders (many of whom are probably partisan guerrillas) are just tearing their opponents to pieces... to a point. Eventually, Mantle and Mistral forces are reduced to a point where they can be effectively coordinated, and they can defeat their smaller opponents in detail. Repeat a few times, with one side having an operational advantage, and the other a strategic advantage. By the end of the war, they've learned a lot from the other side, and everyone bets everything on one last gambit - trying to eliminate Vacuo.

Unlike Terra's Great War, Remnant's Great War doesn't end in humiliation and starvation for one faction. And (so far as we know) it also isn't followed by a world-wide plague and economic downturn. For whatever reason, the conflict post-Great War isn't socio-economic (capitalism, communism, socialism, fascism, conservatism, anarchism), but human/Faunus. And while there is fighting, it doesn't reignite a global conflict. Probably because every Kingdom has Faunus populations, and they try (however poorly) to resolve the issue politically with the foundation of Menagerie.

An aside: this is a history that draws a lot from the US experience. The USA came out of the WW1 fairly well, and wasn't really a participant in the interwar 'political debate via street-fights' that resulted in Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy. They were insulated from the actual causes of WW2, and were brought in because of an incredibly ill-conceived sneak attack (Not that the US wasn't heavily economically involved earlier, via the lend-lease act, and alliances to Entente powers. But that's complicated, and the actual flashpoint for USA entry into the war is a lot easier to teach to young children). So it's not surprising that the Faunus Rights Revolution looks a lot like the Civil Rights Movement, because that's also taught heavily in US schools. With the founding of Menagerie paralleling some of the post-Great War map redrawing in the Middle East, or possibly one of the proposed 'carve out an African diaspora state' ideas.

And that's a lot of words on history - so what are the implications for modern Remnant? First of all, we only see the Atlesian military. Including their deployment in Vale itself. The degree to which this is, by Terran standards, utterly insane, is difficult to overstate. Sure, Ozpin expresses reservations to Ironwood, but I mean - this is like if a USMC rifle company camped out in Olympic Village. The Vytal Festival is a celebration of Remnant's unity, and the only way this is even slightly acceptable by anyone's standards is if the Atlas military is essentially, UN Peacekeepers.

We know that everyone uses Atlesian robots. Not just the Schnee Dust Company, but Atlas hosts what is either an advertisement or a meet-and-greet for their newest model of robots. Which means that Atlas robots, are, effectively, the 7.62x51mm NATO rifle round. Atlas tech, from their robots to CCTS, is a result and perpetrator of Kingdom unity. I suspect that everyone's military forces are based on Atlas patterns, if only because they're probably reliant on Atlas tech.

But first, the weird thing about Atlas. Their Huntress Academy feeds directly into their military. No one else does this. ...At least, not directly. See, Huntresses are licensed by governments. They're not government employees, but they are absolutely state sanctioned to fight the existential war against Grimm. And hunting contracts/bounty boards are almost certainly government-run. Private citizens can absolutely issue contracts (see Jaune's crossing-guard duties), but like a post office, there's no one other than the state that could effectively run a national bounty board. Which is why Lionheart was able to send so many of Mistral's Huntresses to their deaths - he had access, as a Mistral Council member.

Ultimately, Huntresses exist within a government frame-work, but so long as they're hunting Grimm, oversight seems minimal. But, of course, there are dangers other than Grimm. The governments are probably mostly willing to look the other way if a Huntress accepts a contract to deal with some bandits. But someone like Raven, or Ilia, or Tock? Folks with an active Aura who aren't fighting Grimm? Those are a problem. And Atlas' answer to them seems to be the Ace-Ops.

So what does Atlas do with all their military Huntresses? I suspect that they're being used much like Cordovin - anchor points defending Atlesian interests. Which probably includes SDC assets. That's the less idealistic reason for the CCTS - it allows Atlas to co-ordinate their far-flung forces. That it also acts as a show of goodwill is just gravy. Atlas' widely scattered forces also mean that they can reinforce any of the other Kingdoms in the event of a disaster.

Aside - look, all of the Kingdoms are the US in some aspect. Atlas is 'the World's Policeman,' and an exploration of national corruption, fears of a surveillance state, and economic stratification. Vale is how the US wants to be seen, 'the Nation that Won the War,' containing both metropolises and tiny towns, fiercely individualistic. Mistral may be wearing a silk robe, but it's still the US in character. More economic stratification, and a giant sweep of frontier. And mercy, does the US still want to think of itself in frontier terms. Vacuo, I don't think we have enough information to really comment on, but I'd suggest that it's an aspirational combination of more frontier and actual equality.

Getting to the actual military. We kind of have to go off of Atlas' alone here, because we haven't seen anyone else. In accordance with the 'lightning raid' idea, it seems to be heavily vehicular. And honestly? Without an active Aura, I'd want a foot of armor between me and the Grimm. We've seen gunships, armed transports, and mecha. The non-robotic infantry seem to be limited to pairs of guards, with no actual presence of true Huntresses within the ranks.

My theory is that Atlesians who don't qualify for Atlas Academy still serve in the military, but as rank-and-file members - which very likely includes the Air Corps. Their combat academies, unlike Signal, don't have students make their own weapon but instead provide something a lot more recognizable to us as a military academy - sure, there's range time, and plenty of unarmed combat, but also a lot more actual schooling. But fairly early on, the teachers put students on a particular track - so this person will graduate as a combat engineer, that one as a commander, this one as a logistics officer, and that one will actually attend Atlas Academy and receive personalized combat training, but in the meantime, they're going to be studying small unit tactics and intensified general combat training.

Ultimately, Atlas Academy just produces special operatives for the Atlesian military. Very, very useful special operatives, but no more vital than the Air Corps, ultimately. Huntresses are specialists, not an entire military.

I can theorize about the militaries of the other Kingdoms, but we've never seen them, so it probably wouldn't be very effective theorizing. But we do see some other state-controlled violent actors: Mistral and Vale police, and the Menagerie Militia.

The police, by and large, seem to either be your standard law enforcement (supplemented by the standard Atlesian robots), or something more like search-and-rescue, as per the Volume 4 finale. Their ability to wield force is theoretical, not something we've actually seen on screen (apart from some RWBY Chibi gags, which I'm comfortable calling non-canonical). Given the Grimm attraction to negative emotions, focusing law enforcement on de-escalation makes sense. I don't know if there would actually be a paramilitary branch of the police (a la SWAT) or whether that would just fall under military jurisdiction. It probably varies from Kingdom to Kingdom.

The Menagerie Militia is really interesting. Largely because Kali does liaise with Mistral Police, and turns the stand-off with the White Fang into, not a clash between two rival non-state actors (Taurus' White Fang and the Belladonnas' White Fang), but a multi-national anti-terrorist police action. The Mistral Police provide dramatic spotlights, implicit fire support, and, probably most importantly, legitimacy, and the Menagerie Militia operates as a unit against the individual White Fang members. I don't think we can really take the Militia as an example of anything but itself, though. It's in Mistral to deal a morale hit to the White Fang, and, if that doesn't prompt flight or surrender, to use minimal force to disarm their fellow Faunus. Despite the name, they're not really a militia, so much as a posse. They're engaged in police action, they're drawn from the common citizenry, and RWBY deals pretty heavily in Western tropes.

Actually, that's another side note. Standard fantasy settings owe a good bit to the influence of D&D nowadays - mostly indirectly, via various video game franchises. But the medievalism of D&D doesn't look much like actual medieval times, despite the kings. It does look a lot like Westerns, with weak governments relying on parties of roving miscreants to beat back the hordes of savages from the frontiers. I'm well aware of how problematic the last part is. RWBY tries to avoid those particular racist bits by making the threat to civilization be literal hate-seeking monsters. And then, try to show that Remnant culture is full of all kinds of people, with different material cultures and appearances, all more or less co-operating. And then they use the Faunus to try to talk about racism - not always well, but making a better attempt to engage with the material than most fantasy. I mean, Blake has passing privilege - she can pretend to be human, and struggles with that idea. A lot of fantasy is still stuck on Lovecraft and Howard, in terms of race.

To summarize - Atlas is our only model for a modern Remnant army, but we can make some pretty good guessing about them. They're heavily invested in vehicle combat and robotic infantry, because Huntresses are rare, and no one else wants to get into melee with a Grimm. Atlas is heavily invested in a top-down organization, but since the Great War, has been allowing local commanders more initiative. Atlesian military Huntresses are specialists, not necessarily commanders in their own right. Until recently, the Atlesian military has been serving as a sort of global reserve, deploying units to hot spots to assist local forces against the Grimm.

And Salem's finally deployed an army of her own.

#RWBY #Atlas #Huntresses #military history #Beta rambles #with digressions into how very American RWBY is from a historical perspective #how Kali is awesome #racism in D&D

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robert-c · 4 years ago

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Consultant or In House Professional

At one time or another I suppose most compensation professionals have wondered what it would be like to be one of those consultants that their management always seems to regard with more respect than themselves, their own employed professionals. Having been on both sides of that business perhaps I’m in a particularly good place to offer some thoughts.

The pros and cons of each position are fairly obvious.

The In House Expert

Pro:

Has regular income,

Generally a much more secure position, and

Much more detailed knowledge of the company and its strategies (enabling better recommendations – in theory)

Con:

Typically not as highly regarded for professional expertise as the outside consultant,

Often charged with implementing plans that were designed by non-professionals (executives), and

Held accountable for their success or failure, usually the latter.

Outside Consultant

Pro:

Typically gets to design and recommend the plan they think is best,

Not bogged down in the details of administration and implementation, and

Variety of companies and industries to work with keeps things interesting and challenging.

Con:

Income/benefits is either extremely variable or insecure; depending on being your own firm or working for a larger one,

Rarely get to see things work out with your recommendations, and

Must spend as much time developing business (selling) as actually doing the work you presumably love and are best at.

My career went pretty much as follows: in house, consultant, in house, consultant, and finally in house; altogether roughly equal total times in each role. My consulting experience was divided between being a sole practitioner and an employee of a large consulting firm. I suppose I’ve seen the field from just about every vantage point.

Based on my parents’ Great Depression Era experience, I put too much importance on job security. In addition, I was too fearful about business development or selling. Everyone has to examine their own feelings about these elements and determine if they are willing to push through and learn how to do or accept something different or if they really aren’t suited to those aspects of work. My personal opinion is that most in house professionals would do well as consultants, in larger firms where someone else is taking the lead on the business development, i.e. selling.

There are frustrations in either role, the key to a happy and satisfying career is finding the role that minimizes the frustrations that are most annoying and then learning not to focus on them. A lot of people (me included) have the habit of looking at life and seeing what is missing from their “perfect” view of what they would like, it’s the “squeaky wheel” view. If it is something that can be “fixed”, fine, do it and move on. But when the things that are missing can’t be had (because they are not in your control) then focusing on them only increases the sense of frustration and dissatisfaction.

There are things not specifically covered in the pros and cons above. My first consulting job was with a large firm as their employee. The partner I was assigned to made a statement whose accuracy and importance was much greater than I realized at the time. “There is a fine line between what we do and prostitution.” We were primarily working in executive compensation so the applicability of the statement should be obvious.

But it applied in a broader sense. I discovered that even in matters of base pay for the rank and file, we often had to navigate between the preconceived notions of the client and good professional practice. In order to ensure continued business from the client there was always the pressure to give them whatever they thought they wanted. Diplomatically “selling” the recommendations we made is a skill that is needed for both the in house and outside consultant roles. Naively, I originally thought the basic facts and logic would be enough to carry the day.

The topic of executive compensation deserves its own article; but let’s just say being hired by and working for the executive whose compensation plan you will be designing and recommending to the Board of Directors is, at the very least, a conflict of interest with the goal of objective and professional counsel.

Let me say that I do admire and respect those entrepreneurs who see an unmet need in the market and fill it and make a success of their business. My admiration can sometimes border on reverence. At the same time, many of these individuals had unrealistic ideas about themselves and their employees. Too many thought of themselves heroically and that others should consider themselves privileged to be allowed to help them achieve their lofty objectives.

I remember the businessman who wanted to double his profits. He wanted an incentive plan to motivate his people to do more to upsell, retain and get new customers (by having current customers refer others). However, his idea of a sufficient reward for doing this was a maximum potential bonus of 5% a year over the next 5 years. What this means in practice is that each year the maximum bonus for helping double the business (and the owner’s profit) is the equivalent of working 1⅓ hours of overtime each week. Over the course of five years the maximum bonus for helping double the owner’s business (in virtual perpetuity) amounts to about 25% of one year’s base pay. True, those requirements might reasonably be part of the job currently. But if that isn’t having the desired results, how sure are we that having the staff ramp it up, add more enthusiasm is going to change things? Is the service really up to the best possible? In short, how much extra effort are people going to put out to double the boss’ pay for that amount of reward?

So I guess what I’m saying is that the first “pro” under consulting, (gets to design and recommend the plan they think is best) really depends on how good you feel you are at selling your idea to the client and/or how willing you are to risk them not liking it simply because it contradicts their life long biases.

The third “pro” under in house expert (more familiarity with the company etc.) only matters if your opinions and recommendations are being heard or considered by executive management.

So the basic choice is, in house for regular earnings and a modicum of job security, with limited opportunities for job satisfaction; consulting for variety and the excitement of pressure.

Sometimes you can hit the winning combination. I had a period as an in house expert where I actually was listened to and made a difference with my recommendations. I even had a good period as a consultant where the business development was handled by a very good sales person who brought me in to let the prospect see that I had good ideas and could work well with them.

Of course there were situations that were all of the bad elements together, but there isn’t much to say about those, except that if you are in one, get out as soon as you realize it. Don’t let fear of financial insecurity hold you back. Those situations don’t change from the inside as often as folks like to believe (you have a better chance of winning the lottery). And if you still think your loyalty to the company will count for something, I’m sorry, but wake up – this isn’t the 1950’s.

#Business #career #consultant

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bluboothalassophile · 5 years ago

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A prompt where Bruce comes to Raven's defense? Like Raven is having JL and/or Zatanna trouble again (because "now the demon is learning from CONSTANTINE!!!") and Bruce got increasingly annoyed with it. Like everyone knows she's dangerous, but she also has a long history or control at this point. Plus, he fails to see how her learning to control her darker power is actually a bad thing as opposed to her harboring dangerous energies she can't control when needed.

Hello,

I’m sorry this took so long to get around to, but I do hope you enjoy it!

Cry ‘Wolf’ No More!

Bruce hated JL meetings, he hated that the JL was actuallynecessary. He also hated how freaking LARGE it had gotten. Before when it wasjust himself, Clark, Diana, Barry, Arthur, J’onn, Hal, and Oliver had actuallyfelt right; not that he’d ever say that aloud. But the seven of them couldmanage, they could even get along, which was; again, not something he’d admitaloud.

The JL had turned into a large bureaucracy, which wasunflattering to what the purpose was, and they had bogged themselves down intothe corruption of the UN to appease the world; so now there was nothing gettingdone properly. The JL was created to HELP people, regardless of what theleaders thought or the media thought, or what the damn world thought. The JLwas supposed to be able to do the right thing, without asking permission. Theworld was so perpetually fucked up and idiots in an almost elite family ‘bestfriends’ club ran the world. And it wasn’t right. But it was the world.

But when things like warlords, genocide, natural disaster,cartels, terrorism and the worst humanity had to offer reared it’s head the JLwas supposed to do the right thing. It wasn’t supposed to be what the UNthought was right, but rather the morally, human right thing to do.

Which was why he now stuck exclusively in Gotham.

Still, it was a day when they had needed the foundingmembers here; Zatanna Zatara had conviened an emergency meeting like she was afounding member, and demanded that this be brought to the front of their attentionstoday. Right now. And Bruce really didn’t want to.

He had CEO meetings as Bruce Wayne to do, several charietyevents to look over and sign off on before attending, there was also the meetingwith his board of directors; all of whom he thoroughly vetted and hired off ofability and not their personal connections; there was also the family dinner,and with several children, all under the age of three in his house it wasexhausting. Not to mention there was the new contractors he had hired to helpDick and Kori remodel the wing they would select of the Manor, and there wasalso the meeting with Selina to look over the latest museum’s inventory, andthere was the family dinner to attend. Not to mention, he had to be at thepolice function tonight; or was that tomorrow?; point was, he didn’t have timefor these ridiculous JL emergency meetings that newer; and frankly, lowerranked; members of the JL felt they were entitled to pull.

He was greeted by a very frustrated Oliver Queen exiting hisZeta Tube as well.

“I have shit to do!” Oliver muttered as they ended upwalking together.

He grunted in agreement. There was also the evidence heneeded to review in the Dent case before Dent was indicted. Arthur stormed inlooking furious and frustrated.

“I have a damn kingdom to run! I do not have time for this!”Arthur snapped at him and Oliver.

“Don’t look at us, we did not call this meeting.”

“I did,” a sweet voice said. Bruce glared at Zatanna Zatarawho was standing there impatiently. “And what took you so long!”

“We. Have. Lives!” Oliver and Arthur snapped as the three ofthem glared at her. Bruce took his seat at the head of the table, Clark to hisright and Diana on his left, the rest of the members took their seats. Oliverand Arthur were bitching about the huge inconveniences these ‘emergancy’meetings were when they had more to their lives than being members of the JL,he was inclined to agree with them.

“You called us here, so what is so goddamn important?”Arthur snapped when Zatanna walked slowly and purposely for the other end ofthe table.

“It has come to my attention that John Constantine has takenon a pupil.” She started.

“So we’re here because your ex, and daddy issues arejealous? Fuck this! I’m out!” Oliver snapped.

“No, no, let’s hear this out, it’s not like we have lives toattend to, or meetings to handle and conduct,” Arthur snapped.

“His pupil is Raven, the demi-demon from Hell, and formermember of the Titans, current member of the Outlaws!” Zatanna snapped.

“Oh… and this is bad how? She might learn not to destroy theworld?” Oliver asked sarcastically.

“It’s a serious problem because John Constantine is amenace!” she hissed.

“Enough,” Bruce said, his voice sliced through the roaring argumentthat had erupted as he slowly stood. Zatanna stared him down and he frowned. “Ihave had enough, Zatanna.”

“This is!”

“This Is Not Important!” he roared. “I have board meetingsto attend, a multibillion dollar industry to attend to, employees to oversee,trade agreements that need to be looked over, evidence I need to process, andchildren I need to raise! Oliver has the same needs, Arthur is the King ofAtlantis, I think he and I are to have a meeting later this week with thePresident.”

“You’ll be in Washington? Sweet!” Arthur smiled.

“We have lives! Raven learning to control dark powers, demonabilities, it isn’t an emergency or a threat to our world, the Justice League wasfounded to help people, to protect people, we are not here to enforce our willupon people, we are here to do the right thing. You crying wolf just because ademon is here, doing the right thing, doing good, and you hate demons, doesn’tmean the demon is evil. And I don’t care if she’s a demon!” Bruce snapped. “EmergencyJustice League meetings are for the apocalypse or founding members, which youare not, and if I hear one more goddamn thing about Raven from you, ever again,I will find a way to stick you in another dimension. Now, if you will excuseme, I am late for a luncheon with my wife and children!”

#bluboothalassophile #fanfic #zatanna zatara #bruce wayne #arthur curry #oliver queen #hopes for a bastard universe #hopes for a bastard

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crue-sixx · 5 years ago

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The Lady In The Water

Title: The Lady In The Water

Author: tiddly-winx

Fandom: The Dirt

Summary: The tortured soul of a murdered woman lingers above her watery tomb. Her spirit resides in the apartment she once called home, her power growing stronger on rainy days. You are a medium-you can see hear and talk to ghosts. You must help them find the light.

Note: Based on the Haunted Apartment HC. The character of John Rimbauer and his house Rose Red are of the mind of Stephen King.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, paranormal and scary shit, implied rape murder and drowning, ghost sex. If you are squeamish please don't read.

Late 1880's

Amelia Grace was a low level worker, who had joined the labor union in the strikes for better working conditions. She soon went up the latter in the Union ranks and became the spokesperson for the cause. Across the continent in New York, a horrible fire broke out in a textile factory that burned over 100 poor souls of women and girls alive. The owners had locked the doors with heavy chains during working hours, so that their employees would be forced to work their entire shifts with no breaks. One of the machines had caught fire and in a matter of minutes and only a handful of workers jumped to safety, though not entirely safe. They sustained broken bones and horrible burns-scarring them for life.

She was now speaking at a rally against a Seattle based businessman John Rimbauer. He had built a factory in the city where he employed the cruelest of men to be his overseers. She had been speaking with some of the women and girls in his employ and from what they relayed to her, John Rimbauer had an insatiable sexual appetite. When he'd come and inspect the books, he'd call some ladies into his office and spend extended periods of time with them. afterward the ladies having expressions on their faces that looked as if they'd made a pact with the devil.

She was nabbed by his men that night at her residence and taken to a sewer. She had been chained to the floor with little room for movement. Before her, John Rimbauer himself stood before her and clucked his tongue "Little hens should know that it's the rooster who calls the world to arms" he reached down and brushed a thumb against her chin delicately.

Amelia spat in his face, to which he calmly wiped off the saliva. With a wicked grin on his face, he took from her what all people value most-consent. Over many weeks, he deprived her of nourishment and forced her into debauchery previously unknown to her. When the flood waters came and filled the sewers, she met her fate, but not before she cursed his name, his family and wherever he'd reside. But her spirit remains to this day tethered to her apartment unit, where the very thing that was her death became the source of her power-water.

Death was only the beginning.

Early 1980's

You had heard rumors of the missing woman named Amelia Grace, that she was still alive somewhere in a bog in Ireland for some shit like that. You didn't believe a word of it, so you decided that she was long since dead and buried in an unmarked grave somewhere in the city.

You see, you were a hunter of all things paranormal and your brother Mick had given you a hot tip that something was going down in his friends' apartment. He said he'd hear a woman's whisper softly in his ear, then a cold chill would wash over him like he'd been splashed with ice water. You didn't bother with all the high-tech equipment, you had a knack at attracting weird shit to you, which is why you were always secretly Mick's favorite sibling, from the day he found you playing with an imaginary friend.

You were rolling a ball and he thought it was hitting the wall and rolling back to you with momentum, but when he saw the ball stop in the middle of the room and roll back to you, he shit his pants. He made sure to watch you so you didn't say anything to your parents and wind up in the loony bin, instructing you to shut the Hell up if you saw or heard anything out of the ordinary.

You had moved up here in his place with him to help him with his medical condition, paying him back for all the childhood memories he had shared with you. He made you feel normal, while all the other kids (including your own brothers and sisters) called you a freak and rubbed your face in the mud. He had warned you about his band mates, that they'd try to get in your pants. You teased your brother "I might just need someone in my pants, my hand does get lonely down there".

He chocked on his coffee and said "You're disgusting" with a furrowed brow.

You met his friends, they seemed really cool. You knew better than to admit you could see, hear and communicate with ghosts right off the bat, but this place felt more powerful than others. To your ears, a leaky faucet was the scream of a person in pure agony. It sounded like someone dragging a rusty fork across a chalkboard.

You only stayed five minutes until you had to leave. You quickly apologized and told Mick to explain it to them later. You knew they'd scoff in your face-just like everyone else did. You elected to stay away a few days and do some research and you were giddy with glee when you saw Amelia Grace's name on the records of tenants, you had to go back almost 100 years worth of documents at the library, the building had changed hands so many times it was almost impossible to track the original owner.

While you were away, things started getting more noticeable around the unit, then going downright dangerous. The landlord had said that nobody lived in this unit longer than a year, especially males, and they would soon see why.

On the rare occasion that Vince actually did the dishes, something in the dishwater caught his eye. Where should have been his reflection, the visage of a pretty woman took it's place. She was smiling at him and laughing, then she raised her finger and curled it towards her. He was completely captivated, him not knowing he was leaning over the sink and putting his face in the soapy water. Her touch was like a ray of warmth, her hands caressing his face with the softness of a feather pillow.

When he opened his eyes, the woman had turned into a rotting shell of her former self. She let out a shrill scream and her leather, bony fingers clasped his head tightly and tried to drag him deeper. He panicked and tried to pull away from her, but this only strengthened her resolve and almost had drowned him in the sink when Tommy pulled him up with "What the Hell Vinny?! Why're trying to drown yourself dude?!"

Vince looked back to the dishwater, where the majority of it was splashed about the countertop and floor. His eyes were wild like he'd taken a hit of a drug, but he hadn't even touched anything like that yet today. "Th-the girl..." was all he could stammer while Tommy tried to console him. the drummer telling the singer that he was probably still either drunk or high from last night. It took more convincing on Tommy's part to calm his friend down, but it was done.

A week later, Tommy was in the shower when he heard a bubbly voice from the drain calling his name. I also sounded distant, like it was far away. He bent down to listen, and as he was eye level with the drain, a thick clump of hair sprang up and wrapped itself around his neck. It was slimy and stringy, and way too strong to be just normal hair. He stumbled and fell, dragging up even more hair with him.

He watched in utter terror as he saw decaying flesh drag itself from the drain and assemble before him. He looked into the dead eyes of the female, her hair wrapping him in a cocoon of mold, debris and the unholiest of foul smelling filth that not even the devil himself could concoct. Tommy was so horrified that he didn't even notice the temperature of the water was rising substantially-beyond what was normal or bearable to a human to withstand.

His skin began to sizzle, and chemical burns began to appear on the surface. It was then the pain overtook his fear and began yowling for help. Nikki was in the kitchen when he heard Tommy fall in the shower. He got up to see if he was okay, but knew it was quite the opposite when he was screaming for assistance. Nikki kicked down the door and had to look away only for a moment before helping his friend.

He grabbed up a towel to wrap around Tommy, who was shaking from shock and fear. Nikki then got on the phone for an ambulance and did as the dispatcher instructed him to. Normally he would have told whoever was giving him orders to fuck off but he didn't want to hurt Tommy any further. Vince came home to see Tommy be wheeled away on a stretcher and he looked to Nikki for answers. "What the fuck happened?!"

"I don't know" Nikki was so mad he was shaking "Maybe the landlord fucked with the boiler or the damn thing's broken!" he went and cussed out the landlord over the issue and the landlord insisted that he didn't touch the boiler, even going as far as to show them that the boiler was up to code, in working order and at a reasonable temperature for bathing.

Vince remembered what happened to him and relayed it to Nikki "Dude, there's something off about our unit man! I saw some bloated chick in the water while I was washing dishes last week!"

"You're so full of shit Vince!" Nikki laughed sarcastically "I don't know what to believe, you saying we have a ghost or you saying you did the fuckin' dishes!"

"I'm serious!" he actually started bawling "Remember when Mick's sister Y/N could only stay a few minutes before she looked like she was gonna be sick?"

Nikki DID remember you, only because you were hot and he wanted to fuck you. He did think it was strange that you focused on the water pipes in the unit, but he was naturally attracted to people who were somewhat odd. "Vince, get it out of your head that our place is haunted! If you don't like it you can move the fuck out! I'm staying right here!"

The blonde stared in disbelief and said "You know what? Fuck you, Sixx! There's something wrong with this place!" he walked backward while flipping Nikki the bird with both hands "I'm staying with Mick and Y/N!"

With all the events of the day, Nikki opted to drink alone in the apartment and shoot up. He was alone in his bed, in a drug induced sleep when he felt the soft wetness of your kisses on his cheek. He jolted awake to see you naked straddling his hips. He smirked as you gave a playful wave. and said "Surprise!"

"How'd you get in?" he asked in his slurred speech.

"The window" you giggled "Just like everyone else!" you leaned forward so your nipples grazed his and said "You know, I wanted you to fuck me since the day I saw you..." the rain outside made the light distort your features so he couldn't see what you actually were-the ghost taking your form, the thing he truly desired.

Now Nikki Sixx wasn't one to turn down sex when it was freely offered so he leaned forward and kissed your lips, then moving down to your breasts. He was getting hard just by touching and kissing you. He reached down to play with your pussy but you stopped him "I'm already so wet for you, baby" you groaned into his mouth "Just fuck me already" you pulled his cock up and you slid him into you with ease.

He moaned loudly, you being wetter for him than any other bitch before you. "Jesus Fuckin' Christ Y/N you're so hot..." he slowly began thrusting into you, but you leaned forward and pinned his arms to the bed.

"No, no, no Nikki" you chastised "I'm callin' the shots tonight" he chuckled, him secretly liking a woman dominating him. "You just stay still and I'll ride your cock like the Lone Ranger rides Silver..." he laid back, with your still pinning him down.

Soon, he was at his limit "Oh my god Y/N you're gonna melt my dick off!" he then shot his load into you and after a moment of bliss, he stared in silence as you began rotting right in front of him. You were decaying rapidly, the stink of human waste oozed from the walls, dripping slowly like molasses.

He knew that Vince was right- their place was haunted. He tried to get the ghost off of him, but her frame became heavier with each thrash. He got some relief when she stopped only to be horrified when she began dry heaving. He knew what was next, but he couldn't stop it. She vomited sewer water onto him, the putrid potion going in his mouth and up his nose. Thankfully he closed his eyes as the torrent of dirty water hit him.

When he was finally able to get up, he noticed what felt like to be soft wet kisses was actually a dripping faucet right above his bed. He looked around to try and find the mess the ghost had made of his room, but the only mess he could find was of his own doing in the crotch area of his sheets. He cleaned himself up a little, got dressed and went over to Mick's where he told you all that he believed what Vince said was true.

"Told you, asshole!" the singer retorted.

"So what do you want to do now?" you asked both of them "With Tommy in the hospital and you two here, the unit's empty right?"

Mick looked at you and said "Oh no Missy! You're not going over there alone!"

"Mick I HAVE to" you told him sincerely "I've been doing research on the building and I think I know who she is...all I have to do is speak her name and she'll be gone" you put a hand on his shoulder "I am not that scared little girl anymore Bobby" you called him by his real name, him reluctantly letting you go.

The unit definitely smelled like a sewer that was for sure. You turned on all the faucets and opened the windows to let the rain in. The howling wind and the metallic scream from the pipes became one-you seeing the ghost in front of your very eyes. She was looking at you not in hatred but curiosity, like she was reading an interesting book. You locked eyes with her and dared not break the stare. "Amelia Grace!" you shouted.

The ghost hollered in pain, a look of surprise overtaking her. You said her name again and she screamed louder. You shouted her name a few more times, bringing her to her knees. You knelt in front of her and grabbed both sides of her head, sending her images of the newspaper clippings you found in various libraries. She stopped screaming, and tears of joy began rolling down her face. Her skin was healing itself so she looked more alive than dead. "John Rimbauer has paid dearly for his misdeeds" you gently told her.

"His house was cursed, claiming his beloved daughter" you went on "his family in ruin. You have been avenged, Amelia. You don't need to linger here anymore..." you gave a soft kiss on her forehead "Go in peace..." she smiled, a heavenly glow engulfed her as she made peace with her death.

The rain stopped, the whole unit soaked but it was warm again. When you came back to Mick's place, you were exhausted and plopped down on your bed without a word. While you were asleep, Mick took the time to tell them about you and your gifts. They believed every word-even Tommy when he came back from the hospital.

They quickly moved their stuff from the unit to Mick's place and you all slept in the living room where there was more area to accommodate more bodies. They didn't want to go back, and you didn't blame them. You kept in touch over the years and you deepened your research to locate Amelia Grace's remains in the sewers. You eventually did and arranged for a proper burial, her epitaph reading "A revolutionary, murdered before her time. May she find comfort knowing her death was not in vain" you felt a warm hand touch yours, you looked up to see Amelia Grace.

"Thank you" she said as she handed you an antique necklace "If I ever had any daughters, I'd want them to be as courageous as you..." she kissed your hand and vanished for the final time.

"Who you talkin' to babe?" your husband Nikki asked, your twin girls Amelia and Grace not far behind him.

"Just an old friend" you assured them, looking back at the grave and closing the book on the case of Amelia Grace for good.

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the-real-xmonster · 6 years ago

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This thing about Yuzuru Hanyu which I can’t believe I still need to point out

(Warning: long text)

(TL;DR version: Yuzuru Hanyu is the best skater of our time)

I know I said I’ll stop ranting about things for a while but bear with me on this one. I just went through my friend Chib’s Curious Cat feed and usually it’s a very entertaining and enlightening thing to do, but yesterday what I managed to see over there made my mind go into hyperalert mode, though certainly not Chib’s fault. As it happened, apparently the talking point of “Hanyu is not the best at anything” is, once again, making the rounds. Of course the point doesn’t stop there, it quickly evolves, or devolves, more like, into how he can’t deservedly be regarded as the best skater out there if he is not unsurpassed in any particular thing, and how he’s a “jack of all trades master of none”, culminating in this sentiment from one anon, which was the final straw that completely shattered my hitherto camel-back-like tolerance:

ngl that's kind of a boring goat isn't it? not having that one little thing that makes you extra special? all of the best skaters before him had something but he doesn't seem to (x)

Now, I have tried to debunk this theory before, but in hindsight, I realized that it was likely not the right approach. My, or any Yuzu fan’s, attempt at defending his technique and asserting his supremacy in any singular thing will never not meet with counterpoint from people who wish to deny the validity of his achievements. Let’s call them the deniers for now because “hater” is too polarizing a word and I’m not sure if those people are actually that emotionally invested in Yuzu to begin with. If we get bogged down in their subterfuge, what we’d end up doing is bickering all the livelong day with people who would gleefully claim that skater X jumps better than Yuzu, skater Y has nicer skating skills, skater Z spins prettier, skater A has a more pleasant hydroblade and skater B does that one superior layback Ina Bauer. Skating history is long and the field is deep, so provided that you are persistent enough with your digging, you will more likely than not be able to unearth moments of brilliance that arguably outshine Yuzu’s on any single thing. Those repeated attempts from our side of the table to argue with the deniers on these little things also serve to fuel the confusion, especially in a new fan’s eyes, because this back-and-forth creates the impression that Yuzu’s abilities and achievements are questionable, therefore, doubtful.

So today let me try a different tack in, not proving, but simply pointing out to you that Yuzuru Hanyu is the best skater of our time and no, his worth as a champion of this sport is not up for debate.

First of all, the notion that a skater has to be the absolute best at something in order to be the best overall is childish and unrealistic. There is only one place where a person, in order to triumph above all else, vitally needs to have some special technique they can claim to be their own: fiction, more specifically, fantasy fiction, including video games, comics, manga and anime. “Special techniques” have a prominent place in, say, a shounen manga, because the authors will them to be: they are convenient plot devices to make a character memorable and to advance the story line (practice - enemy encounter - more practice - stronger enemy encounter). Real life, dare I say, is more nuanced than that.

Example 1: Jeff Bezos, of Amazon fame, is the richest man alive. Is he the best at any particular aspect of money-making? Probably not, he is not the best performing CEO in the world (Business Insider didn’t think so, neither did Harvard Business Review) nor the most well-liked boss (Mark Zuckerberg is, or used to be, the most likable, according to Forbes), didn’t even make it to Investopedia’s list of most successful entrepreneurs. As someone who currently works for Jeff (I say “works for” in a loose sense, seeing that he’s 6 levels of management above me and obviously doesn’t know that I exist), I can attest to the fact that his employees generally do not regard him as an infallible, all-seeing, all-knowing decision maker either.

Example 2: If there is any canon that tennis fans from all walks of life can agree on, it is the fact that Rafael Nadal is the best ever on clay. However, if you ask 1000 people (fans and players alike) to name one aspect of the game which Rafa is the best at and that could explain his dominance on the red dirt, you will receive a dozen different responses which, if you publish, will be met with hundreds of different rebuttals. His forehand? Nay, we think del Potro’s might be more fearsome. His two-handed backhand? Um, there’s this dude named Djokovic? His topspin? Well, we’ve heard Jack Sock can spin the ball even faster now.

Remember, though, that none of these queries can hope to erase even the tiniest bit of Jeff’s enormous wealth or Rafa’s transcendental record on his favorite surface. The question is always “why is he so rich?” “why is he so good?”, never “is he rich?” “is he good?” - those would be absurd.

So, coming back to the topic of Yuzuru Hanyu, my friends and fellow Yuzu fans, the next time you are confronted with the claim that skater X/Y/Z/A/B/C is better than him at any one thing, may I suggest the universal response of: so what?

Secondly, let us engage in a thought experiment: imagine if you could build your ideal figure skater, tailor-made to winning competitions under the current ISU Code of Points, which abilities would you give him/her?

I assume you would want your prototype to have good techniques on all 6 jump types. So as to ensure their competitiveness in this day and age, you’d give them the ability to land multiple quads of multiple types in one program. Your skater should probably strike the right balance between strength and flexibility, so that they can both jump powerfully and spin beautifully. Add on to that speed, agility, edge depth, knee bend, the control necessary to accelerate/decelerate at will and switch directions at the snap of a finger. Just as a safeguard, you might think about programming your android with a self-improvement piece of code which gives them the capability to debug errors in the original configuration (such as a lack of comfort with the flip jump).

What else? Ah, you’d want to make sure they have a good musical sensibility and then give them a team of choreographers that could construct for them the most distinctive, memorable programs. Might as well find them a group of first-rate technical advisers to fill their skates with transitions so complex nobody else has ever attempted them before. Given that this is a sport where appearance plays a not insignificant role, you should consider also providing your machine with a comely face, decent height, long limbs, and a lithe body.

It’s a competitive android we’re talking about, so I’d further suggest instilling your prototype with an insatiable hunger for success and then expose them to the elite level of competition as early as possible, so that they can stay fit and relevant and capable of winning across more than one Olympic cycles (after all, this is a big investment, might as well try as hard as you can for maximum utilization). To top it all up, and this might be hard to synthesize artificially, but you will want to try, nonetheless, to give your skate-bot a charisma so genuine and so enduring that they would be able to attract and retain legions of loyal fans who follow them around the world and shower the ice with their favorite soft toys after every skate - a customer acquisition strategy is always a good thing for your financials, and the soft toy rains will give the media something silly to cover, if nothing else.

I’ve run out of features to request. As an afterthought, may I just ask you to consider leaving out the asthma and reducing his propensity for injuries / freakish accidents?

There you go, isn’t that nice? Your skate-bot looks perfect to me, highly capable of championing this sport. He’d better win at least a couple of World titles, a couple of Olympic golds, and garnishing them all with a dozen records. You might receive questions down the line about why you didn’t make sure that he is the absolute, incontestable best at any one thing. To which you can rightfully answer that balance, rather than extremes, is what you were aiming for with this skate-bot, and remind those inquisitors that your goal was to create one ideal skater rather than a squadron of one best jumper, one best spinner, one step sequence expert, one choreographic sequence specialist, one transition master, and one musical interpretation virtuoso, if only because the logistics of arranging for them to skate together would be an utter nightmare.

If the result of this perfect skater thought experiment sounds too similar to someone we know, then, well, I told you so.

You, sir, are a robot, I get you now.

#yuzuru hanyu #figure skating #loooooong post #sorry not sorry

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theregoesjodariel · 6 years ago

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Pearls’ Night Out- Notes for Chapters 1-3

Hey, gang! For those unaware (which is probably most of my followers), I recently got back in the fic writing saddle with a bunch of Steven Universe fics. Currently, the one that I’ve spent the most time on is Pearls’ Night Out, a five-chapter story focusing on Pearl, Yellow Pearl, and Blue Pearl blowing off some steam by spending a night out and about in Empire City. You can read it here!

And, as I promised in the notes there, I’ll be releasing a couple behind-the-scenes type posts detailing the writing process, inspirations and homages, and easter eggs featured in the story. I’ll probably just make two-- one for chapters 1-3 and one for 4-5. This, of course, is the first of them. Read on for the cool stuff!

Chapter 1 includes what should be, I think/hope, the only references to the various songs featured in “Mr. Greg.” Obviously, I had to bring it up at least a couple times in the story, what with it being a tale of Pearl once again going to Empire City. Both references are to the song “Empire City” from that episode: there’s the title, “And Let’s Bring Pearl(s),” which is a cringe-inducing play on words/pseudo-snowclone of Steven’s deadpan final line from the song, which still makes me chuckle every time I listen to it without fail. The second reference is one of the last lines of the chapter, with Steven referring to Empire City as “a place that’s always exciting,” as Greg did in the song.

On the topic of awful puns, chapter 2′s title (”Mean Pearls”) physically hurt me to write, but I did it anyway. The reference should be self-explanatory.

Tonally, I tried to make the story a spiritual successor to “Last One Out of Beach City.” Specifically, while the episode of the show followed your typical ‘80s teenage romcom tropes and cliches to a T, Pearls’ Night Out spends each of its three body chapters (chapters 1 and 5 serve as a prologue and epilogue of sorts, respectively) trying to follow the formula of modern, twenty-first century teen romcoms. Currently, this is most noticeable in chapter 2, which uses the typical “prep vs. nerd” formula in Yellow Pearl’s confrontation with Kevin and his clique.

I originally wanted to include Pink Pearl in the story as well, with her competing for Sheena’s affections with Pearl Prime; think Betty and Veronica, with poor Sheena as Archie. I decided to drop Pink Pearl because I felt that Sheena’s light angst over whether or not she really belongs in Pearl’s world in chapter 3 was all the angst I could stomach, and any story with a post-CYM Pink Pearl is very likely to be roughly as angsty as your average Lapis-centric story.

The moment from chapter 1 where Steven calls out to Pearl and all three turn to face him is the closest I could get to a “Who’s on First?”-style bit featuring the Pearls. The opportunity to do it was too good to pass up and the bit would’ve gone on longer, but I had gotten into a rhythm while writing the chapter and felt that extending it past that point would’ve bogged down chapter 1′s necessary exposition.

The decision to include Kevin in chapter 2 wasn’t planned, it just happened naturally. I knew I wanted to pit Yellow against judgy, preppy high schoolers, but was at that point just thinking about using some OCs. However, once Kevin came to mind, I saw no reason not to use him, because shopping at the most expensive mall ever just because he can is something he’d totally do.

Furthermore, Kevin and co’s insults to Yellow are super lame. This was done on purpose: as was made very clear in “Kevin Party,” he’s really a lot less cool than he thinks he is.

I thought making Brooklyn Empire City’s most upper-class borough lined up nicely with SU’s bizarre real world-adjacent setting where New York and Vegas are smooshed together into one place and Halloween apparently doesn’t exist. It’s just the right amount of jarring, y’know?

Lacey’s is, of course, the Empire City equivalent to New York City’s Macy’s Times Square. Lacey’s is probably just as miserable during the holidays.

Yellow Pearl’s abject horror at Kevin’s friend wearing a pearl necklace was inspired by a moment from the official SU podcast. I can’t recall which episode it was-- I’m quite sure it was the most recent fan Q&A-- but there’s a moment where the gang is asked how the Gems would respond to seeing human jewelry. Deedee Magno-Hall responded by saying something to the affect of “they’d be horrified at first and still uncomfortable with it after it was cleared up for them.” Yellow Pearl’s instantly jumping into attack mode is my subtle way of showing that deep down, she wants to be as strong as our Pearl.

Rhiannon follows the same naming convention/gag as Sheena/Mystery Girl: she’s named after a ‘70s song, specifically the Fleetwood Mac song of the same name. It seemed a fitting name for a down-to-earth mall employee, plus the song rules.

Nailing down an exact period of time Pearl and Sheena didn’t call each other was hard. Remember that Steven Universe’s first five seasons take place roughly over the course of around a year and a half, so I had to find a convincing time frame within that year and a half during which Pearl could’ve feasibly not talked to Sheena without, y’know, irreversibly ruining their burgeoning relationship.

I tried to, very subtly, convey that Sheena was actually very different from Rose throughout her date with Pearl. Aside from the moment where Pearl looks into Sheena’s eyes, their conversation is much more equal, for lack of a better word, than most of the conversations we see between Pearl and Rose. In those, even when Pearl is ostensibly free to do what she wants, she’s still quite submissive to Rose and Rose is giving a lot of orders. I have nothing against Rose, of course; I just wanted to steer away from Sheena being too similar, as that would just make her and Pearl’s relationship feel like a long-overdue rebound/replacement for Pearl, which would just be creepy.

Lastly, I included a couple of nods to Sheena being an Aquabats fan. She’s got their logo on her bike helmet in “Last One Out of Beach City,” and when you’re an Aquabats fan, you represent.

#imadethis #intel files

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