#tenders ad in newspaper online

[newspaper-advertisement]

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[mohit-trendster]

2014 Interview (SW Site)

Can you recall your earliest writing endeavor?

Absolutely! My inaugural venture into storytelling was with a patriotic poem-story titled "Ye Desh hai Un Verro ka," inspired by the Kargil War circa July-August 1999. It found its way into print later that year, courtesy of the regional Hindi newspaper "Rashtriy Sahara." At the tender age of 11, seeing my work laid out in print, complete with all the newspaper trimmings and ads, was an indescribable, truly memorable experience.

Could you walk us through your writing process?

Certainly! To start, I endeavor to infuse my core story concept with a unique essence by experimenting with various combinations of settings, characters, scenes, and subplots. Then, I meticulously tailor the language to suit the characters and situations, eschewing the temptation to rely on a repetitive style, which can be detrimental in the long run. While non-fiction may offer less room for flexibility in research compared to fiction or poetry, I find that delving into less-explored subjects, particularly dissecting the statistical aspects, can yield remarkable results.

Interestingly, I adopt a somewhat spontaneous approach (plus, a hint of minimal effort) when tackling comedy, poetry, tragedy, and darker themes. Surprisingly, despite investing only a couple of hours in crafting such pieces, the feedback and ratings from readers tend to surpass those of my more labor-intensive works.

What strategies have you found most effective for marketing your books?

Ah, marketing—the perennial puzzle! My arsenal includes regular and targeted engagement across various social media platforms such as Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, and even the nostalgic Orkut. I also leverage blogging communities and platforms like Goodreads, Writers.net, Published.com, and Smashwords for listings, backlinks, keyword optimization, reviews, and recommendations. Additionally, tapping into the network of regional newspapers, magazines, publications, and NGOs can be instrumental in orchestrating book launches, press releases, and promotional activities. When liaising with NGOs, aligning the book's theme with their cause or providing tangible support can amplify the promotional impact.

Furthermore, even in the absence of a formal book launch, I focus on cultivating my author brand through various avenues, including event appearances, contests, online Q&A sessions, and volunteering for creative endeavors during events.

How did your upbringing influence your writing?

My formative years were spent traversing multiple cities in Uttar Pradesh, India, courtesy of my father's employment with the state government. This nomadic upbringing exposed me to the rich tapestry of Indian society, with its myriad contrasts and diversity—a veritable kaleidoscope of experiences. From witnessing India's transition from a closed-license regime to a more liberal economy in the early '90s to navigating the intricacies of regional, religious, linguistic, and geographical variations, each facet has left an indelible mark on my writing. I find myself drawn to exploring social issues against the backdrop of India's multifaceted landscape, constantly marveling at its uniqueness and beauty.

What's your preferred e-reading device?

I gravitate towards both Kobo and Kindle devices for their user-friendly interfaces and the popularity of the epub format. However, I harbor a desire to see more affordable devices enter the market to democratize access to e-books and bolster the share of the e-book market in the near future.

What literary indulgences do you seek for pleasure?

When it comes to leisure reading, I find solace in a diverse array of materials, including comics, research journals, and non-fiction. Regrettably, I've only managed to explore a handful of novels in my lifetime thus far (up until January 2014).

When did your journey as a writer commence?

My foray into writing began at the age of 10, with a collection of devotional songs penned during the nine-day Hindu festival of Navratr. However, it was during the tumultuous period of the Kargil War that I crafted my maiden poetic narrative. Despite the constraints imposed by a school environment that wasn't particularly conducive to extracurricular pursuits, I found an outlet for my burgeoning literary aspirations in topics that captivated my interest, predominantly revolving around current affairs. It wasn't until college liberated me from the shackles of institutional constraints that I fully embraced my passion for writing, succumbing to the relentless allure of storytelling.

What's the inspiration behind your latest literary venture?

Periodically, I embark on research projects delving into uncharted territories, seeking respite from the monotony of my creative endeavors (with the added bonus of contributing to social causes). "Postpartum Reproductive Health: India" stands as a testament to one such endeavor—an incisive sociological study shedding light on the postnatal health challenges and associated medical and economic hurdles faced by Indian women. In a landscape inundated with health studies, the dearth of research focusing specifically on postnatal reproductive health care spurred me to undertake this endeavor. Collaborating with Shanu Sharma, the study was conducted in Saharanpur, India, aiming to fill the void in scholarly discourse on this critical issue.

Why did you choose the path of an indie author?

My penchant for exploring diverse genres and topics often renders my work too experimental and noncommercial for traditional publishers, resulting in frequent rejection. While some of my works do find a home in traditional publishing houses, my high rejection rate necessitates embracing indie publishing as the primary avenue for disseminating my voluminous output of experimental creations. While achieving a mainstream commercial balance is not a priority for me, the prospect of self-censorship or compromise poses a formidable obstacle. Ideally, I envision a future where my mainstream rejection rate dwindles to zero, yet I remain committed to publishing indie works regardless.

How has Smashwords contributed to your journey as an author?

Smashwords—a veritable boon to independent authors like myself! Its myriad offerings, from facilitating thousands of downloads and attracting new readers to enhancing my online presence and providing a platform for publishing books in various formats, have been invaluable. Moreover, the opportunity to receive regular feedback from esteemed authors active within the Smashwords community has been immensely enriching. To the formidable team behind Smashwords, I extend my heartfelt gratitude!

What significance do your fans hold in your creative journey?

Fans are akin to renewable wellsprings of virtual wealth, infusing vitality into my brand and fueling my motivation to persist in my endeavors. Their numbers and responses serve as both a testament to my efforts and a guiding compass for refining my craft. Indeed, their feedback serves as a catalyst for evolution, prompting me to adapt my approach to certain genres or refine my writing style. Moreover, the delightful surprises wherein fans share obscure tidbits about myself and my works serve as poignant reminders of the profound connection forged through literature.

What projects are you currently immersed in?

Currently, my creative energies are channeled into a multitude of endeavors, including:

The "Infra Surkh Shayars" Poetry Project, spanning multiple languages.

Comic series featuring characters such as Psycho Devi, Baali, and General.

A novel titled "Maa ka Monologue."

The daunting task of transcribing a backlog of poems and stories originally penned in Hinglish into Devanagari Hindi for publication. While the sheer volume of pending work may seem daunting, I remain committed to publishing several collections of stories and poems in the near future.

Who are your literary influences?

I draw inspiration from the works of esteemed authors such as Bharat Kumar Negi and Gregory David Roberts, whose storytelling prowess and thematic depth continue to captivate and inspire me.

What compels you to rise each day and engage in your craft?

Each day beckons with the promise of unfurling creativity, a veritable canvas waiting to be adorned with the strokes of inspiration. The passage of time—86400 seconds—serves as a constant reminder of the boundless potential waiting to be unlocked. The allure of creativity, the obligations entwined within the fabric of society, and, above all, the enduring love for my craft propel me forward with unwavering resolve.

Could you share your approach to cover design?

When it comes to cover design, I firmly believe in the power of collaboration. Teaming up with exceptionally talented illustrators and colorists, I embark on a collaborative journey aimed at capturing the essence of my work visually. The fusion of ideas, expertise, and artistic vision invariably yields exceptional results, ensuring that each cover serves as a compelling visual representation of the narrative within.

Is "84 Tears" your magnum opus?

While "84 Tears" may not claim the title of my magnum opus, it undeniably stands as one of my most successful endeavors to date, boasting an impressive 700,000 downloads within a span of two years. Special recognition must be extended to the remarkable talents of Mr. Ravi Shankar, whose artistic contributions breathed life into this project.

Given certain language and formatting constraints, as well as considerations regarding copyright, I am regrettably unable to showcase the entirety of my oeuvre on Smashwords. For a comprehensive overview of my works, I invite you to peruse the official weblinks provided on my Smashwords profile.

Would you be willing to share some exclusive keywords with us?

Certainly! Here are a few exclusive keywords associated with my creative endeavors:

#Mohitness #mohitsharma #mohit_trendster #Trendster #Trendy_Baba #Freelance_Talents #421_Brand_Beedi_Federation #Infra_Surkh_Shayars #Sameer #Zahan

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[disinfectatas]

Think Outside the Banana. Eat the Peels

After the British chefs Nadiya Hussain and Nigella Lawson developed recipes using banana skins, the British cooking public is perplexed. In November, the British cookbook author and food personality Nigella Lawson shocked her nation when she demonstrated a recipe from her latest cookbook, “Cook, Eat, Repeat,” on her BBC television show of the same name. It wasn’t royal family-level scandalous. Still, based on public reaction, you’d think she’d caused a major controversy.

And all because she’d prepared a fragrant dish of cauliflower — and banana peels.

“I certainly didn’t expect newspaper headlines about it!” she said in an email. “It’s hard to overcome the cultural assumptions about what is and is not edible, and to start eating what we have customarily regarded as waste.” A few months earlier, another British culinary television star and cookbook author, Nadiya Hussain, had appeared on a “Good Morning Britain” segment on cooking during lockdown. “Everyone’s making banana bread,” she explained, offering resourceful tips on using scraps to avoid food waste. “Don’t chuck the peel away. Cook it up with some garlic and onions and barbecue sauce, stick it in a burger, and you’ve got, like, pulled pork, pulled chicken.” After Ms. Lawson’s show aired, Ms. Hussain’s previous appearance resurfaced, and the peels became a culinary cause célèbre. “Nigella Lawson shocks viewers with banana skin recipe,” read one Independent headline. “Are banana skins about to become a must-eat ingredient?” wondered the Guardian.

https://saac.instructure.com/eportfolios/3565/Home/4k https://saac.instructure.com/eportfolios/3567/Home/___Love_Will_Tear_Us_Apart_HD_ https://saac.instructure.com/eportfolios/3568/Home/ https://saac.instructure.com/eportfolios/3569/Home/HD___Love_Will_Tear_Us_Apart_UHD__1080p https://www.guest-articles.com/health/think-outside-the-banana-eat-the-peelsa-24-05-2021 https://www.thewyco.com/news/think-outside-the-banana-eat-the-peels-24-05-2021 https://bangjago963604740.wordpress.com/2021/05/25/think-outside-the-banana-eat-the-peels/ https://healthymboa.org/forum-healthymboa/topic/think-outside-the-banana-eat-the-peels/#postid-4778 http://www.shadowville.com/board/buyselltrade/think-outside-the-banana-eat-the-peels#p478540 https://www.getrevue.co/profile/babangtampan/issues/weekly-newsletter-of-irontmp-issue-1-630151 https://skiracing.com/sr-members/disinfectatas/profile/

Ms. Hussain, whose parents are Bangladeshi, credits her father, a former chef and restaurant owner, for introducing her to cooked peels. In Bengali cuisine, unripe skins are cooked until soft, then puréed with garlic and green chiles, and sautéed with additional seasonings. As Lathika George, the author of “The Kerala Kitchen,” said, “Different varieties of banana grow all over India and there are recipes for all parts of the plant — flowers, fruit and even the trunk of the plant!”

In the southwest region of India’s Kerala state, where Ms. George was born, unripe bananas are most commonly associated with a thoran, a type of stir-fry for which they’re soaked then sautéed with a bouquet of bloomed spices and an aromatic, chile-warmed paste of ground coconut. Some adaptations include the peels, while others feature them on their own. “As the skin and flesh of green unripe banana is like a vegetable, it is also used for kofta (mashed-vegetable dumpling), cutlets and vegetable curries,” Ms. George added. Travel north and you’ll find dishes that feature riper skins. Ms. George cited an Assamese khar from the northeastern part of India that calls for the ripe, sun-dried peels of an indigenous strain of banana. “Personally, I think it’s just a fad, especially if you’re vegan and looking for different options,” she said of the hype in Britain.

Banana skins have been trendy among vegans since at least 2019, when online recipes began circulating for treating the peels like bacon. At around the same time, the pulled not-pork had its first brush with internet fame, courtesy of the Canadian blogger Melissa Copeland, who published an explainer — and recipe — on her site the Stingy Vegan along with a video on Facebook. She’d developed it after learning that vegans in Venezuela use bananas’ outer jackets for an alternative to carne mechada (shredded beef), and in Brazil a similar swap is popular in a dish known as carne louca (or “crazy meat”). Ms. Copeland’s “pulled” peels “made it onto the menus of several restaurants in places as far away as Hawaii, Malta and New Zealand thanks to this recipe!” she wrote in an update to her original article a few months after posting it.

For the American author Lindsay-Jean Hard, the appeal of cooking with banana peels extends beyond interests in veganism. She has spent the last 11 years learning as much as possible about utilizing the jettisoned parts of her produce. Her 2018 cookbook “Cooking With Scraps” includes a recipe for her grandmother’s banana cake layered with brown sugar frosting, and one notable change: She substituted the fruit with its peels, softening them with a simmer, then puréeing them with some of their cooking liquid. (She has subsequently realized that freezing them in advance takes care of the softening.) She applies the same technique to banana bread, utilizing the whole fruit — casing and flesh — for “even more banana flavor.” Ms. Hussain does a whole-banana loaf too. It’s a gooey, chocolaty “roller-coaster,” as her daughter described it on her mother’s Instagram story, where it debuted. She doesn’t trouble herself with tenderizing the peels; they yield during baking, resulting in a springy chewiness.

[weemsbotts]

The Disappearing Pitter Patter of Feet: The Colonial Girls Lost in Time

By: Lisa Timmerman, Executive Director

Participating in any of our outside walking tours, day or night, includes a trip to Dumfries Elementary Public School and Dumfries Cemetery. One ghost story specifically refers to the appearance of “colonial girls” and in a town filled with Civil War folklore, it is intriguing this particular association attached itself to the school. But if Dumfries Graded School and later Dumfries Elementary Public School operated in the early 1900s, why colonial ghost children?

In 06/19/1795, Mrs. Simson advertised the opening of her Boarding School in the Republican Journal and Dumfries Advertiser. “Where she intends teaching all kinds of needle-work, in silk and worsted; she also teaches the tambour and embroidery, with the art and elegance of shading, and taste in the arrangement of patterns.” She wished to “cultivate their young minds, as well as form their manners” flattering herself “that she has given satisfaction to the parents of those whom she has already had the honour to instruct – and gained the love of her pupils.” Besides for needlework, she advertised “reading, spelling, and writing taught with propriety”.

Mrs. Simson’s indicated that the Boarding School was “at the House of Thomas Lee, Esquire, on the Hill”. The famed Lee family owned property throughout Virginia including the Town of Dumfries and while both Colonel and former Governor of Virginia Thomas Lee and Thomas Ludwell Lee, Sr. died before the 1780s, Thomas Ludwell Lee, Jr. presumably placed a newspaper ad in the Alexandria Gazette on 09/17/1787 for persons wishing to rent “a large Commodious Store house in Dumfries, as well situated being nearly in the centre of the main streets…” Charles Lee also advertised in the same paper and date “…to be leased forever at public auction…about 15 lots situated in the town of Dumfries on the main street opposite to McDaniels Tavern being part of the square now occupied by Henderson, Ferguson & Gibson”. While the Lees rented and sold property in Dumfries, some to the Merchant family, the house “on the hill” likely referred to the area around the current Dumfries Elementary Public School.

In 18th century America, middle- and upper-class white families usually hired tutors to instruct their young daughters the basics of writing and arithmetic, with more advanced and skilled instruction in needlework, music, manners, and other forms of arts and crafts. If the parents could and were willing to send their daughters to a boarding school, they would hone their skills in needlework and come back with a “level up” – a finished needlework to display prominently in the home, discreetly (?) informing guests of the family’s wealth, sophistication, and refinement. These “female accomplishments” were important signals to a society focused on appearance and marriage. Virginia prohibited the gathering of enslaved children for the purpose of education extending from the constant white paranoia that educated enslaved persons were more likely to rebel. However, the Bray Schools in Virginia instructed enslaved persons in Christian education through biblical literacy. Both Williamsburg and Fredericksburg operated official Bray schools ranging from 1760-1774, although Fielding Lewis encountered low enrollment and white hostility forcing him to close the Fredericksburg location sooner.

Although siltation was an issue by 1795, the town of Dumfries still attracted people as the Henderson family resided in Dumfries and Mason Locke Weems had yet to purchase the lot for his book depository. However, we have so little information beyond the newspaper advertisement for the boarding school. Did anyone pay the fee to board their children? If so, which families took advantage of this offer and what were their experiences in Dumfries?

Interestingly, the Republican Journal and Dumfries Advertiser also included the following song in the same paper with Mrs. Simson’s advertisement, titled “Domestic Felicity”. Although not attributed to any person in the newspaper, this song appears in Isaiah Thomas, Jr.’s ed, “The Sky Lark: or Gentlemen and ladies’ complete songster. Being a collection of the most modern and celebrated American, English, and Scotch songs”.

“Though grandeur flies my humble roof,

Tho’ wealth is not my share,

Tho’ lowly is my little cot,

Yet happiness is there.

 *

A tender wife, with mild control,

By sympathy refin’d,

When rage the tumults of the breast,

Becalms my troubled mind.

 *

Three pledges of our mutual love,

Kind Providence has given,

And competence, to nurse their hopes,

Is all we ask of Heaven.

 *

Still, from the little we enjoy,

A little we dispense;

And watch the buddings of their mind

Just blossoming to sense.

 *

With arm entwin’d in arm we fit;

And join their hands to pray;

And teach the accents of their tongue,

To hail the rising day.

 *

At eve again they kneel and bless

The hours which are now past;

And hope their cherish’d virtues may

Prove happiness at last.

*

Accept, Great Father of us all;

Accept their little prayers,

And grant the nurslings of our youth

May crown our silver hairs.

*

Let those whose weak and infant limbs

With tenderness we guide,

Be props unto our age when down

The steep of life we glide.”

(Image: Instruction with Delight. Thomas, Isaiah. Little Robin Red Breast. A Little Pretty Pocket-book Intended for the Instruction and Amusement of Little Master Tommy and Pretty Miss Polly. Massachusetts: Worcester, 1787. The Colonial Society of Massachusetts: 18th century Massachusetts Songsters, Volume 54, Music in Colonial Massachusetts, 1630-1820: Music in Homes and Churches)

While the “colonial girls” will not respond to repeated queries (naturally), they and all the ghosts, such as the enslaved persons, represent our quest to understand everyone living in Dumfries. While essays and books are continually written about the white male society, they are not the ghostly figures people claim to see in this town – instead, it is the ones whom society did not equate as equal.

Note: While our closed season begins on 11/01/2020, we will continue to offer online virtual tours! The online tour includes a meeting with the staff and a video of the house. Stay tuned for special virtual November Member programs along with news of possible holiday outside walking tours! Click here to access info regarding our latest & upcoming programs and tours!

(Sources: The Republican Journal and Dumfries Advertiser, No. VI, Vol 1, 06/19/1795; HDVI Archival Files: Dumfries – Town Lots, Newspaper Notices; University of Michigan Digital Text Collections: Evans Early American Imprint Collection Text Creation Partnership; MET: Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History: Peck, Amelia. American Needlework in the 18th Century, 10/2003; Library of Virginia & Virginia Humanities: Encyclopedia Virginia. Bly, Antonio. Slave Literacy and Education in Virginia)

[releaseadmyad]

4 Steps to Create Effective Newspaper Ads

Newspaper Advertisement has been an important medium of communication between the advertiser and consumer since ages. It is the most important part to promote business within budget due to its high readership rate.it creates an opportunity to get the maximum possible response because it is popular among every section of people in the country. And its shelf life  reminds the consumers about the product or the service after many days. 

 A few years ago, ad booking in newspapers was a tiresome task. But now, the age of visiting the publication office, filling forms, standing in long queues is over and advertising agencies came forward to make your life more easy and hasslefree in terms of booking advertisements in newspapers. releaseMyAd is the number one online advertisement booking platform where all leading newspapers circulating throughout India are listed. So if you are worried about placing an ad in any of the newspapers just visit our website to get it all done: https://www.releasemyad.com/newspaper-advertisement

With the experience of working with releaseMyAd for quite some time, here I am discussing 4 steps to create a newspaper ad which will give the maximum output.

Selecting an appropriate newspaper:  While thinking of publishing an advertisement in print media like newspapers, it is very important to choose the appropriate newspaper based on the nature of the ad and readers.  For example, if you are from Kerala and you want your matrimony ad to get maximum response then Malayala manorama is the most useful option for that. Financial Express is the most suited option for share market related advertisements.

Selecting the preferred edition: If your IT company is located at Gurgaon and you want to hire people for night shift call support then publishing the advertisement in Pune edition will not be helping you more. Because it is easy to assume that thus you are directing the ad to the wrong region people. Or if you have a house in Bangalore which you want to sell, the best option is to select the Bangalore edition of any leading malayalam daily. Ifb you are looking for a bride or groom from your community or location then it is mandatory to select the appropriate edition for that.

Selecting the specific category: Before publishing an advertisement in a newspaper you must know what is the best suited category for your advertisement. Selecting the perfect category helps to get the proper response because readers can easily open that particular section and see the ad without wasting much time. Eg, make sure that if you are looking for a job then your ad must be published under ‘situation wanted’ category. Otherwise it can create a confusion among the readers or consumers regarding the call of action.This also affects the image of the newspaper.

Composing eye catchy and informative advertisement creative: There are 3 ad formats in newspapers namely classified text, classified display and display. Display ads are specially for retail/branding, public announcements, tender, public notice, education admission notice etc. For personal/ individual requirements such as matrimony, selling property, selling automobiles, or change of name, newspaper classified ads are a more suited solution.

Composing ad matter is the most important job in terms of the effectiveness of the published advertisement. It is very important to maintain proper space, punctuation and spelling for generating a sense of authenticity, dependency among readers. In case of matrimonial ads, it is very necessary to mention age,  height, educational qualification or professional details and sharing if any special preferences are there like divorcee, non-divorcee, separated, NRI, physical disabilities and medical conditions etc. While composing a name change ad, one must keep in mind to clearly mention the old name and new name in the matter. In the Obituary and remembrance ad do not forget to mention the name and date of death of the deceased person and strictly not mention the reason of the death because that is not acceptable in most of the publication. While composing an ad matter, the most common mistake people make is they skip mentioning their contact details. It is very important to mention that for obvious reasons otherwise people won't be able to get in touch with you or your product or service. 

For all of the above details you can trust releaseMyAd because we have our experienced designers to design ad creatives in such a way that it will definitely hit the readers. Moreover you can check the status of your ad till its get published by the unique ad id number which you will get after the booking procedure. You can use any of the online transaction systems to book advertisements with releaseMyAd. So it gives you the smooth experience of ad booking which you can avail by sitting at your home with just a few clicks. If you have more to know I will suggest you to contact our team by call or whatsapp in this number 9830629298  or write us to book@releasemyad.com.

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[havenoffandoms]

Chuckleheads in Love

Pairing: Destiel

Requested by @very-anxious-ottter

Prompt: Destiel Coffee Shop AU, but instead of one being a barista and the other a customer, both are baristas in training trying to get the one position left open...

I tried something here... added my own little twist to it. Hope you like it anyway. Bare with me if it’s horrible lol. I had fun writing it though, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it. 

In the twelve years Gabriel had owned his own business, he had seen many a chucklehead pass the doors of his Wonderful Coffee Emporium, the most exclusive (and expensive) coffee shop in Lawrence, Kansas. He had had his share of rude, and downright arrogant customers. That was just something he had grown accustomed to over the years, and Gabriel fully expected his employees to be thick-skinned when working in his Emporium. The customers had ceased to be Gabriel’s problem a long time ago.

Employees. Them bunch could be a right nightmare to deal with. Recently, Gabriel had to get rid of his best barista because the dude could not keep it in his pants. The guy had knocked up one of Gabriel’s best client’s daughter… who had understandably not been very happy to his perfect angel girl turn into a potential future ‘Teen Mom’ participant. Very bad for the family name, you understand. Gabriel could not afford to lose this particular client – who also acted as a supplier of one of his best coffee brands – and therefore, sacrifices had to be made. Gabriel had only reluctantly agreed to let his barista go. He had been the best in the state, and replacing his expertise would be a challenge. And probably a very expensive one at that, too.

This was how Gabriel ended up advertising a barista position online and in the newspapers. He had interviewed around thirty candidates. He had only invited two back for a second meeting. Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester, both young, eager to please and ambitious. They were the raw clay Gabriel could mould into the perfect employee. The only issue was, they were both really, tremendously good. Their portfolio had been varied, professional and elegant. Gabriel would be judging their technical skills during a live ‘stand-off’. Exciting, right?

Gabriel went to greet the two candidates before his Emporium at seven am sharp. The shop opened at eight. They had one hour to convince him that one of them was fit for the job, and worth investing in. In a grandiose and dramatic way, Gabriel pulled the doors to his shop open and grinned widely at the two young men standing awkwardly a few feet away from each other, avoiding eye-contact.

“Hello, boys” Gabriel greeted them, stepping outside and letting the doors swing shut behind him, “my name is Gabriel and I own the Wonderful Coffee Emporium. This…” the blonde motioned to the building behind him, “is my little baby. I want what’s best for it, and that includes the most skilful employees. A brand like this one takes work. And like they say, the devil is in the details. Now… you both have what it takes, but only one of you will get the job. Good luck”

Gabriel invited the two candidates in, and went to sit at a nearby table. The taller man, whom the owner recognised as Dean Winchester, stood with his hands deep in his black chino pockets. He would have to neaten up his presentation, but those were details. Meanwhile the other young man, Castiel, was seemingly doing his very best to look everywhere but at Gabriel. Not ideal when dealing with clients, but again, easily rectified.

“Your first task… make me a large Iced Skinny Hazelnut Macchiato, Sugar Free Syrup, Extra Shot, Light Ice, no Whip” Gabriel grinned impishly when he noticed the confused and lost expressions on the two young men’s faces. “Come on, chop chop”

Castiel and Dean exchanged a worried look, but soon enough Dean nodded to himself and went behind the counter to get to work. Castiel soon followed, visibly trying to steer clear from Dean. Gabriel had deliberately left out instructions such as where to find the tall glasses or how to use the coffee machines. A good employee needed to cope well with stress and be adaptable. He watched carefully as the two men got to work. Every now and again, he would notice one of them glance briefly at the other. However, there was no malice or competitiveness in their eyes. In fact, they were furtive glances, almost apologetic ones. Odd. As far as Gabriel knew, the two men did not know each other. It did not take the two boys long to bring Gabriel his order. Unsurprisingly, despite the complexity of his order, the coffees were both perfect.

“Very good. Now, Dean… what could you have done better?” Gabriel asked. The green-eyed man cleared his throat, taking a moment to think of an answer.

“Well… I suppose I could have done better with the presentation. I mean… Cas is better with that kind of stuff, anyway” Dean admitted, blushing ever so slightly. Gabriel raised one eyebrow and noticed out of the corner of his eyes the smaller man glare at his counterpart. Alright. Curiouser and curiouser.

“Indeed, Castiel I really like what you did with the foam. Do you usually draw little pictures in your coffees?”

“I do, sir. Where I work now, it’s become my main duty”

“Very impressive” Gabriel granted, “although I have to say, the flavour is more present in Dean’s realisation. Maybe sometimes you should focus more on the taste and less on the presentation. Clients can’t taste foam-art”

“To be fair, sir, presentation is what distinguishes a good coffee from a great one” Dean piped up defensively, which earned himself another glare. Gabriel was not sure what exactly was going on, but he knew that something about the situation was off. Those boys knew each other, that was certain. What the circumstances were, that the owner of the Emporium vowed to figure out.

“Alright, your next job. Make me a tall non-fat latte, two percent foam. Do not be fooled by the simplicity of the order, though…” Gabriel advised, raising a warning finger. While Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Dean once again immediately set to work. The smaller man’s actions looked more hesitant. Gabriel noticed with surprise how Dean discreetly – or so he thought – whispered the instructions in Castiel’s ear as he moved back and forth between his coffee machine and the dishware rack. While the smaller man did his best to pretend he was not paying attention to his counterpart, Gabriel noticed the increase in confidence in Castiel’s actions. Again, the two men brought him their concoctions and Gabriel tasted both of them.

“I can see a trope here. Again, Dean yours tastes smoother, but Castiel your presentation is just beautiful…”

“Thank you, sir” The blue-eyed man blushed delicately at the back-handed compliment, while the faintest of proud smiles grew on Dean’s lips. For some reason, Gabriel was convinced that the taller man was happier about Castiel getting recognition than his own accomplishment.

“I’ll need several minutes to make a decision” Gabriel declared, standing up from his seat, “you guys enjoy your own creations. Feel free to grab something to eat, there’s sweet bites next the bar”

Gabriel vanished into the kitchen with only one intention in mind; spy on the two peculiar candidates. As soon as he was out of sight, he noticed Dean lean over so his head rested on Castiel’s shoulder. From where he stood, Gabriel could make out the taller man batting his eyelashes flirtatiously. The owner of the Emporium could make out the faint voices as he picked up bits and pieces of their conversation.

“I’m still mad at you” Cas snapped at Dean, moving away from the other man, “and I don’t care how much you compliment me, I’m downright pissed”

“C’mon, babe” Dean moaned, remorse lacing his tone, “I said I was sorry”

“Working for this place was always my dream, Dean. You had no right to apply for the position” Castiel accused, turning his back on the other man. Gabriel wondered why he paid good money for a TV package when he could have hired those two cuckoos earlier and get his daily dose of soap operas for free.

“Hang on, this is a free country. I couldn’t pass the opportunity… Besides, you know Balthazar wants to make you manager of his coffee shop one day… I don’t understand why you’re so insistent on leaving” Dean defended himself. Gabriel recognised the name Balthazar… not exactly a rival, mind you. His concept was different, more family-orientated, which meant that the clientele Gabriel did not bother targeting had somewhere else to go where they could enjoy a nice coffee. And Gabriel knew it was good quality coffee… he had tasted it himself a while ago.

“Dean, that’s not the point…” Castiel sighed.

“What is it, then? Honestly dude… Balthazar let me go, I should be the one complaining that you’re here”

“How dare you…” Cas guffawed indignantly. Dean merely raised his hands in surrender.

“Babe, I’m just saying. We need both our wages if we want to keep the apartment. And you have a good job waiting for you when Balthazar retires. Why are you so mad that I applied for this job? I only meant well. That guy will pay a shitload… and then I’ll finally be able to get you that ring I’ve been meaning to buy you for ages now…”

Castiel looked at the other man, his expression softening considerably when his blue eyes met Dean’s green ones. The smaller man sighed in defeat, cracking an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I guess I needed to prove to myself – and to you – that I could do this. I know I’m not the best barista, and today proves this. I guess I should be grateful that Balthazar still allows me to work for him”

Gabriel noticed fondly how Dean interlaced his fingers with Castiel’s. Those two were adorable, they really were. Dean closed the distance between himself and his lover and sealed their lips with a tender kiss. A shit eating grin illuminated Castiel’s features, an embarrassed giggle escaping him.

“Dean, stop. Your boss will be back anytime now”

“Who says he’s gonna pick me?” Dean asked, peppering Castiel’s face with kisses. Disgustingly sweet was never an expression Gabriel thought he would ever have to use, but it was fitting to the scene unfolding before his eyes.

“Because even if he picked me, I would not take the job. You’re right, you have a right to this position, too. And I think you’ll love it here”

“You’re sure, babe?” came the uncertain question. Castiel nodded, smiling reassuringly and gently cupping Dean’s face.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m sorry for being such an assbutt”

“You’re my favourite assbutt, though” Dean countered, kissing his lover once again. Gabriel shook his head, slightly amused by the men’s silliness, however the two of them had their hearts in the right place. Walking back to the table, Gabriel braced himself to announce who would be joining his team. Castiel and Dean both tensed up as they saw him return.

“Well, Dean congratulations, you’re in” Gabriel announced loudly, a wide grin on his face, “but before you start thanking me and all that, let me tell you guys something. The key to a successful partnership is communication. Even a team of the most talented employees in the world would be worthless if they didn’t talk to each other. You guys should keep that in mind for the future” Gabriel then locked eyes with Castiel, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Castiel, son… you’re talented, and you have this je-ne-sais-quoi that is comforting and loving. I’m sure there’s no better person to take over Balthazar’s business than you. I will have no regret sending you back there, because I know your skills will be put to good use there”

Dean and Castiel shared knowing looks, and both men had the decency to blush when they realised that Gabriel had heard the entirety of their conversation. The two of them shuffled awkwardly from side to side, avoiding eye-contact once again. Gabriel merely rolled his eyes.

Chuckleheads, Gabriel thought to himself.

[aspiratinganxiety]

ooooh girl i just laughed myself silly thinking of a request for like 20/21 ish year old dick grayson and his girl with the prompt 'Is it weird if I say that your dad’s really hot?' with dear sweet brucie - please please please write this for me i do not have your skills xxxxx

Ah! I laughed so hard when I saw this request. It was entirely written listening to “Daddy Issues” by The Neighborhood. 

I’m not sorry.  

It’s a quick one, but brevity is the soul of wit, after all. (Thanks, Ao3.)

I changed a few things about the prompt. Mostly, I didn’t use the direct dialogue. The meaning and implications of the words aren’t changed, I just altered the diction to fit the character and flow of conversation.  

Thank you for your request, darling. Clearly, just based upon the sheer number of beautifully creative prompts that you’ve put into my askbox, you are incredibly talented. Don’t sell yourself so short, dammit!

My only hope for this fic is that I can make you laugh again 😉

You cannot believe your eyes. You’ve seen pictures of Dick’s adoptive father on magazines and in the newspaper. Online too.

Nobody raised on the East Coast makes it to 22 without coming across the face of American royalty.   

It’s still a shock to see him casually mingling on the front lawn of Gotham University, chatting up the pretty blonde woman handing out attendance pins for all of those at the Literacy Brunch. 

Much like Dick, you find that pictures haven’t done Bruce Wayne any kind of justice. 

You continue to ogle, securely buckled into the passenger seat of your boyfriend’s parked vehicle. Dick rummages beside you; tucking the charging cord out of sight, lowering the volume so your ears aren’t assaulted when you return to the car, and double-checking to be sure he that has his phone and wallet.

There is something in the way that Mr. Wayne moves… in the way that he throws his head back to laugh at the woman’s words. The familiar coy hold of his mouth as he grins down at her. 

“You sure you’re adopted?” The question pops out of your mouth unbidden, and you suppress a wince. 

Insensitive. The last thing you want is to come across as dismissive of his mother and father. Dick’s been stoked about bringing you home to meet Bruce and Alfred for the entire week, but you noticed a lingering sadness peeking from behind his cheerful front. You fear that the unthinking implication might prod whatever tender spot is responsible for his quiet sorrow and further dampen his eager spirits. 

Instead of offense, your boyfriend gives a quick, huffing chuckle. “Um, yes? I am certain that my adoption occurred. It was a mildly significant event in my life. One that I was old enough to have a say in.”

You give him a dry, sheepish look. You feel foolish for spilling words without forethought, but the sarcasm in his tone stirs the impulse to snark back. After assessing Dick’s affect for a moment, you are awash in relief. His smile arches all the way up into his vivid eyes, and it reassures you that genuine excitement about introducing you to the family he’s known since the loss of his parents has won out over any insidious, depressive thoughts about the late Graysons. 

This game is an acceptable way to connect Dick to his assumed family, or so it would seem by his social cues.  

“I dunno’, babe,” you tease, embracing the desire to be ornery now that he’s in a tickling mood himself. You look back toward Bruce and the blonde with an overly dramatic expression of skepticism. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d put money on his making a biological contribution to all of this.” You motion in a vague, circular wave toward the driver’s side.    

“Ha!” Dick barks, unbuckling and allowing the safety belt to lash back into place loudly. “That would have been an incredible achievement, even for Bruce. He was like… twelve the year I was conceived.”

“Still though,” you say. “He looks like you. Not just in your coloration or anything, but-” your words slip away as you attempt to contextualize the similarities you’re seeing.

You watch quietly through the windshield for a handful of moments, gathering your thoughts. Even at this distance, the impeccable social dexterity Mr. Wayne employs as he navigates away from the blonde and into a humming throng of giddy, chatty people is evident. He exudes a sense of smug, male confidence communicated through his straight posture, wide shoulders held aloft, and the puff to his broad chest. These nonverbal behaviors might have rendered the man presumptuous, but he avoids this by merit of the abundant, dopey kindness he offers through every smile and glance. An occasional fumble with the placement of an elbow or a foot also breaks up what might be an intimidating figure. 

When not prey to “accidentally” bumping or tripping over anyone, Bruce moves with a fluid, almost predatory, gait that you had come to associate solely with Dick. If he were a touch shorter, a bit younger, and wore his hair with more length, you could easily see yourself mistaking him for Dick; traversing the crowd ever so politely while not allowing anyone to hinder his path. 

A path leading him directly toward the car. 

Obviously, the cultivated social behaviors, micro-expressions, and some aspects of physicality that you find synonymous with your boyfriend have been learned from the billionaire approaching your vehicle.  

Getting a slightly more detailed glance at him as he closes in, you decide to crack the whip and give your boyfriend a good verbal jab in the ribs. You turn your whole body to face Dick in a sudden flurry of motion, unfastening your seatbelt in the process. Dick blinks expectantly, eyes mockingly wide as though your movement startled him.

“Your spare dad is really hot,” you say in your most serious voice, nodding as if in quiet acceptance. “That’s what it is.” Dick’s jaw drops, and his eyes are widened with true, horrified shock as you carry on. “That’s what’s so similar: super hot dad.”

Dick waves his hands in front of his face as if trying to wipe away your sentiment. As you speak, he tosses his head back and forth near violently. His words burst from him when yours lull. 

“Oh, come on! I know you’re teasing, but we’ve crossed a line. There are two really offensive implications in there. One,” he holds up a finger as if chastising you. “Referring to Bruce as anything but an old man. Not even my old man. An old man. No hotness. None. Not hot at all.” 

You open your mouth to argue, fan the flames a bit more. It’s devilishly pleasing to see the rise you’ve gotten out of him this time. It was like spontaneous combustion. One minute, he’s all cool and ready for some picking. The next?  

Ka-boom! 

He carries on without a pause, adding a finger to his count. “Two, that I am somehow dad hot. What the hell even, by the way, is dad hot? Not me. Certainly not what I am.”

You can’t keep from snickering as Dick flails. 

“Oh, you think you’re so funny? Mm.” He shakes his head slowly, pegging you with a disappointed stare. “Too far, honey. That one went too far. I’mma need you to reel that in before we get to Alfred, because I don’t think I’ll survive a comment like that about him.”

“A comment like what?”

You jump when a new voice interrupts Dick’s tirade. It is dulled through the sound barrier of the vehicle’s windows, but still perfectly clear.

Dick gives you one more admonishing look before clambering out of the car and dismissing Bruce’s question. 

He knows the old man heard the whole thing anyway, goddamn it. 

He’s never gonna’ live it down.         

[angelaiswriting]

The Truth | Vladimir Ranskahov x reader

[couldn’t find anything i liked, so here i am again with my banners, yay! haha]

✎ Pairing: Vladimir Ranskahov x reader

✎ Requested by @mmpmaple : Could you do a fluffy thing with Vladimir? Sort of an AU where he made it out with daredevil and recovers at the readers home. They sometimes butt heads because lets face it he is stubborn! It is not the Russian way to listen to some 'little girl' that is friends with the man in the black mask. 

✎ Requested by Anonymous: Could you please do something with vladimir, I was so upset that he sacrificed himself just when I started to love him even more. please, please,please, write an au where he lives and falls in love with the reader who looks after him since claire definitely won't stitch him back up and matt can't reveal where he lives. <3

✎ A/N: fluff can be found only if you squint real hard, I fear haha I’m really sorry, I did my best. I’ve also just re-read your requests and I feel like I unintentionally detatched myself a little from them, but also that there’s more that could be added to this story, so I could maybe try a part two? Who knows (you do! Let me know). I apologize for the stupid title, but my mind was completely blank haha

✎ A/N 2: also, my dudes. My dudes. I’ve never read the comics (my brain can’t read them), so all I know is what I see on the show. But. But. This is no AU until I see his damn dead body. I’ve seen too many shows and movies to believe a death just because we hear rifles shooting. <3

✎ Warnings: probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever read. Mentions of nudity and masturbation (it’s Vlad after all haha)

Word-count: 3,498

Vladimir Borisovich Ranskahov is anything but sweet. He is strong angles and large shoulders and calloused hands and scarred face. His fingers are made to hold a gun, his body has seen too much, his mind has endured too much. But as he kisses her, all Y/N can think about are his soft lips—chapped but still tender—against hers and his tongue brushing against hers as if she was the most fragile thing.

None of them know how they got to this point. They head-butt like the champions of the discipline, they argue and bicker like kids, and when they fight, they spit venom. But with his hand behind her neck, his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, time stops and all they can do is stare into each other’s eyes.

But then she moves, not so much accidentally elbowing his ribs, and he pulls away with a groan. And before they know it, they’re bickering again. She says he should be resting, he argues he’s not a pussy, she retorts he’d be dead without her so he’d better do as she says, and he ends up stomping away towards her bedroom and slams the door closed.

Sometimes she doesn’t know what to do to get out of that situation, other times she doesn’t want to get out of that situation. Sometimes she’d kill him herself, other times she’d beg him to smash her head into the wall so that she doesn’t have to stand him a minute longer. All in all, though, she enjoys his brooding company. It gives her something else to focus on to distract herself from the fact that she’s lying to her friend, hiding a supposedly dead criminal like that.

This time, though, is one of those times where she wonders why in the fucking hell she’s befriended a Ranskahov and how she’s managed to convince herself to stitch him up. She’s come home from work less than half an hour ago and she already feels like screaming and tearing the whole apartment down, smashing the TV screen with her fist just to see it bleed, just to focus on something else that’s not her guest. And suddenly, Vladimir’s sweetness has flown out of the window and it’s like it never existed.

It’s already as hard as it is, working with her stupid colleagues and trying to have a decent relationship with her friends. She really doesn’t need that stupid Russian dick throwing a tantrum because the vodka she brought home is not the one he wanted.

As if he gives a fuck about what she wants.

For starters, she wants to sleep in her bed—she’s tired of that old couch breaking her back in half. Then, she’d like to wake up to a smoking cup of coffee waiting for her on the kitchen island next to a plate of scrambled eggs and grilled tomatoes.

But then her altruistic side comes out like the ultimate bitch it is and she’s ready to kick her own ass. Vladimir has lost everything, she tells herself. He’s lost his brother, his business, his friends. He’s injured and still recovering and his body is littered in bruises. And he’s a good person when he wakes up on the right side of the bed—or literally when God, Jesus Christ and the whole lot of saints decide to give her a day off, just to recharge a little before another nightmarish day spent babysitting a moron starts.

And so she never says a word, not even now as she slams the oven shut as she takes out the pizzas she bought coming home. She tries not to think about what comes next because she knows he’s going to complain about her choice of dinner. She just knows it, it’s something she feels from deep inside, something she cannot shake off her shoulders.

When she yells Vladimir’s name, adding a curse as she does so, she’s as ready to start the night as she would be if she were in front of death. It takes him a while to get out of her room and reach her in the living room to sit in front of the TV, where she’s put the plates and glasses on the little coffee table. She always jokes about how he always jacks off and she mock-complains about how she doesn’t want to find his jizz on her bedsheets when she has to do the laundry (she’d never admit, though, that she’d like it somewhere else). And he always grunts in response, half in English and half in Russian and he grabs his dick from above his pants just to make fun of her. Just as he does now.

“Behave,” she simply says, side-eyeing him and scoffing when she sees he’s only wearing his lounge pants, his bandages on display, and she crosses her legs and takes a slice of her pizza.

It’s not the best. She prefers it when pizza isn’t out of a freezer in a convenience store, but she really doesn’t want to buy pizza for him. She hopes he figures out what she’s trying to tell him, but he never does and he probably never will. Probably—just probably, though—she doesn’t want him to catch up and she’s happy with how things are. After all, it’s nice to come back home to someone, to have someone to spend the evening before they both go to bed.

She’s not saying it out loud, though. Not now and not ever, let alone to him. And even if he clearly likes her and lets it on in every way he can, she’s not ready to admit that she likes him back. He’s a Ranskahov, after all, and that means he’s the bad guy and she promised her mom she wouldn’t end up with the bad guy as she did before being dumped with a kid in her womb. And so she keeps her mouth shut and her hands to herself and she stares at the TV like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

And the night is calm and they’re both quiet.

Inside her head, she still hears King and that ‘when the night has come, and the land is dark, and the moon is the only light we’ll see’ of his and she tries her best not to giggle—somehow, Vlad loves this song and he has it on loop when he’s in the shower. And when she walks past the door to do her things, she can even hear him hum it and she snickers because she’s never thought of him as the type that would like ‘Stand By Me’.

“What are you laughing at?” he growls, brooding as he bites his pizza.

She casually points at the screen and shrugs. “It’s fun,” she shrugs again, “this show.”

“He’s eating her out. That’s not fun,” he points out. He’s no fan of Sons of Anarchy, but she doesn’t care—she’s the one paying for Netflix, so he’ll have to behave if he doesn’t want to see some cheesy shit.

“Didn’t know sex was a chore,” she says and chugs a gulp of water. “But thanks for enlightening me, buddy. I’ll bring you in next time I fuck someone, you’ll be able to stop me from chuckling.”

She clearly sees him clench his jaw and they both resolve that silence is better than bickering again.

“How’s pizza?” she asks after a while. She doesn’t like his silences because she never knows what he’s thinking about and she doesn’t like that idea.

“It’s shit. You could’ve stopped by some pizza joint.”

She doesn’t answer: she just shrugs her shoulders and keeps silent. Vladimir is right, but the thing she bought is still acceptable and it’s cheaper than the one he wants. She doesn’t swim in money and his vodka and cigarettes are the most expensive things she’s bought after that sexy set of lingerie she bought online when she was drunk.

But then, after the third episode, someone knocks at the door and they both turn to stare at each other, frozen on the spot. Vlad grabs his gun and he’s ready to unlock whatever security thing he has to unlock to make fire—she really doesn’t know and she doesn’t even want to know—and she’s quick to grab his arm, shaking her head no.

They don’t say a word, they hardly even breathe because it could be anyone—from a drunkard to the old lady from down the corridor to the police. To even Fisk’s men, even if Y/N barely knows who Fisk is: she’s always watching Netflix and doesn’t read newspapers.

“Y/N, it’s me.”

It’s Matt’s voice and they both freeze: her, because she really doesn’t want her friend to find her with a not-so-dead criminal on her couch, and him, because that’s clearly the masked guy’s voice and he fears he’s come for him.

“Coming!” she calls, sprinting to her feet and dragging Vlad with her before pushing him towards the bedroom. “Let me get dressed, I’m not presentable!” She shoves her guest into the room and pushes him into the en-suite bathroom, the one she rarely uses these days. “Shit,” she mutters under her breath. “Don’t make a sound or I’m cutting your dick off and it’s not gonna be like in The Package, I’m not giving it to the docs!” she hisses, taking the gun and hiding it under the sink.

When she runs back and opens the door, though, she’s not thinking about Vladimir anymore. Matt is all beaten up and his lip is split. She knows about his ‘night shift’, of course, she’s a nosy bitch after all, just as she knows about what happened between him and the half-naked Russian in her bathroom.

“What happened?” she asks, closing her door. She’s not even concerned, not anymore at least. She’s seen him bruised and hurt so many times she’s lost count—and after seeing Vladimir half-dead, nothing surprises her anymore.

He shrugs, but she doesn’t see it: she’s already pouring water on a hand towel to clean up his dirty face. “Didn’t know you had guests,” he says—and he’s clearly lying, but she doesn’t know and she doesn’t need to know.

At first, she lies, but then she sees Vlad’s half-eaten pizza and his glass of coke and she’s still wearing just her panties and huge sweatshirt and she feels cornered.

“You seeing someone?” he asks as she dabs his split lip. He’s leaning against the back of the couch and he inhales sharply when she dabs a little too hard.

She feels like lying again, but then she looks at him, all beaten up and dressed like a Hell’s Kitchen’s version of Deadpool and she doesn’t find it in herself. “Kinda,” she says, avoiding his gaze. She knows he’s blind just as she knows she isn’t—it’s still weird for her and she still can’t comprehend it, but it still creeps her out.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted anything,” he goes on.

She shrugs. “Wait here, I’m getting the first aid kit.” And to do so, she has to get into the dreaded bathroom and she really doesn’t want to get caught.

“Why don’t you introduce us?” he presses. He sounds a little pissed, but at the moment she really doesn’t care, she has bigger problems to think about and she thought they had both overcome their childhood crushes on each other.

“He’s naked,” she blurts out as she lets the towel fall on the couch, not knowing what else to say. “This really is… it’s really not the right time,” she stutters, turning around and heading towards her room at a sloth’s pace.

“Why not? Shouldn’t your best friend meet this lucky guy?”

She has barely the time to notice he’s following her that Vladimir opens the door to her bedroom and she lets out a squeal. And when she turns around, she bumps into Matt and she really wants to be swallowed up into the floor.

“Here’s your kit,” he growls and it’s Matt who grabs the box and Y/N can see his mouth slightly open in surprise when he recognizes the voice.

There’s silence for a long while and all she can hear is her heart beating like crazy inside her chest. She’s pretty sure those two men can hear it, too. She feels like dying and for a moment she thinks that it wouldn’t be that bad. Because how the hell is she going to explain that she has a naked criminal in her house?

Matt calls her name and his voice is strangely calm, its tone is as hard as stone. He looks at her—or probably right through her, she is too scared to even try and rationalize it. “You are fucking Vladimir Ranskahov.” They all know it should be a question, but it comes out as an affirmation and it makes the whole situation even worse. Because as much as she’d like to jump his bones, she’d also love to kick Vladimir’s ass.

“It’s not as it seems,” and her words come out as a question and it all feels wrong.

Matt’s hands are gripping the plastic box of the first aid kit so hard she fears he’s going to turn into the Hulk and his jaw is set so tight that she fears his teeth might fall off at any given second. “Why is he standing there naked then?” he asks and, again, she really doesn’t want to know how he knows Vladimir’s as naked as his mom’s made him. “Most importantly, why is he alive?”

“Can we please all calm down?” she squeals, putting her hands up in the air as if they’re arresting her.

In all honesty, they’re all calm—or at least they seem so—and she’s the only one on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Neither Matt nor Vladimir say a word, even if she clearly hears the latter cross his arms in front of his chest.

“Go put something on your junk,” she begs, but the stupid Russian doesn’t move.

“I’m still waiting for an explanation,” Matt urges her, grabbing her elbow and squeezing it tight.

*

It takes her a good two hours to calm Matt down from his blind rage. She barely manages to fix his face without hurting him more and more than once she wishes she didn’t work as a vet so that she could mess up with the stitches.

During that time, Vladimir sits brooding on the couch, still as naked as a worm, and glares at her while she mouths at him to leave the room.

But when Matt eventually leaves, after promising on Foggy’s life to not say a word and to not do anything, Y/N turns towards her guest and all she sees is red as he sits there, arms slouched behind the back of the couch, the guy’s prick on full display as if he had something to prove.

It takes her a while before she’s able to move again and when she does, a shiver creeps down Vladimir’s spine. He has never seen her this scary and for a split second, he regrets playing that trick on her and on her masked friend. But then again, he knows how to deal with women and how to put people in their place.

“You are a son of a bitch,” she seethes through her gritted teeth as she slams a pillow on his penis. She’s dying to peek, but she’s also dying to bite it off, so she resolves for neither of those options.

“You could have told me you are friends with stupid Daredevil,” he growls as he grabs her wrists.

*

That night she doesn’t sleep.

At first, she tosses and turns on the couch, groaning under her breath at her lack of sleep. Tomorrow is her day off, but she’d still like to sleep. And she doesn’t want to think about Matt and how furious he was when he found Vladimir in her apartment. And she doesn’t want to think about Vladimir, either, because that would mean accepting what she feels for him and she’s not ready to admit she likes him, not yet.

And then, when Vlad comes and drags her to bed, any chance at finding sleep flies out of the window, never to be seen again—or probably not, probably she’s just overreacting and being dramatic, but his arm against her burns like fire and her hair there are standing on their ends and she can’t focus on anything else.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he stares at the ceiling, where the lights from outside cast unreadable patterns.

She doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, and part of her doesn’t want to know. It could mean anything from ‘sorry I got out naked’ to ‘sorry I came to look for your help in the first place’. And while she’d gladly take the former, she doesn’t want to think about the latter because even if she complains a lot, she doesn’t really mean it.

“I am, too,” she whispers back, trying not to think about the bandage covering the wound on his right calf lightly rubbing the skin of her left leg.

This time, it’s Vladimir who doesn’t know what she’s apologizing for. Always throwing tantrums at his own tantrums? Being friends with the guy who almost killed him? Making him fall for her fast and hard, making him doubt about anything and everything at once?

And before they know, she’s lying down on her side and his arm is wrapped around her shoulders. And it’s cozy, to lie there like that, pretending there’s nothing between them and that they’re just barely tolerating each other’s presence.

“I should leave,” he says after a while and she knows he’s fighting off the urge to light up a cigarette. He knows she doesn’t like it when he smokes in her room, but  the truth is, she doesn’t really care. Deep down, so deep she’ll never admit it, she enjoys the disgusting smell of smoke because it reminds her of him and as long as her house stinks of tobacco and other cancerogenic substances, she knows he’s there with her.

“It’s well past two in the morning,” she yawns back and she’s so comfortable in his embrace that she feels herself drifting off to sleep.

“In the morning, I mean,” he continues, “or evening.”

She knows he means it. Somehow, she can feel it in his muscles, in the way they tense when she traces the edge of one of his bandages yet again.

The truth is, she likes his company. She likes to fight with him because he lets her get rid of the pent-up frustration she always carries inside her. And she likes it when he mutters unintelligible Russian words under his breath, or when he off-key sings under the shower—she had never thought of him as the type that sang in the bathroom, but here he was, in all his fucked-up glory. She definitely doesn’t like it when he jerks off in the toilet and he moans and grunts like there’s no tomorrow, though, but she could definitely get used to it.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she admits after minutes spent in silence and she rolls back on her back and she stares at the ceiling like him. “Matt won’t do a thing, I promise. And if he does,” she continues, “I’ll fix it.”

She’s debated a lot on whether to tell him the truth or not, but she doesn’t even know what the truth is, herself, so she says what she thinks is best.

And as they somehow end up cuddling, something either of them hasn’t done in ages, she’s scared because she knows he might be leaving for real. And even though she cannot tell whether the crush she has for him is really there, she knows he’s become like a friend and she wouldn’t stand the idea of coming back home to an empty and cold apartment just to cook something quick and spend the rest of the evening watching Netflix.

And as he stares at her while she sleeps, her eyelashes brushing lightly against his shoulder, he knows he has to leave. He has spent so much time imagining her in his life that now that he has her, he’s scared. He knows he’ll hurt her, or that someone else might do that just to get to him, and he really doesn’t want it: he cares about her too much to even risk it, even if he does his best to not let it on.

But right now, it’s good to have her there where he’s always wanted her—and where he knows she’s always wanted him. And she feels soft and warm and defenseless against him and her breath tickles his skin and he swears that’s the best feeling in the world.

>> Part Two: Jealousy (NSFW) >>

I’m not in pain anymore, but I still find this fun haha am I weird? Don’t answer, I already know I am. On another note, this was really fun to write!

Feedback is always welcome ❤️

TAGS (to be added/removed, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @toomanyfandoms96 @mblaqgi

Bratva: @sweetvengeancee @theranskahovs ( @brobachev ?)

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Don't Make These Silly Mistakes With Your Newspaper Ads

Newspapers are the most cost-effective and popular medium of advertising. If you are thinking about publishing an advertisement in newspaper first time and quite confused about how to do it and worried about composing the ad matter, rate and process, then this article will definitely help you.releaseMyAd which is the largest online advertisement booking portal provides all kind of assistance regarding newspaper ad booking. To know more visit our page- https://www.releasemyad.com/newspaper-advertisement

Here I am going to discuss some points which one must keep in mind while publishing a newspaper advertisement. People make some silly mistakes which affect the response of the advertisement in a bad way.

Choosing the correct newspaper: Firstly, you have to choose the newspaper wisely according to the region, circulation and readership. For example, if you want to publish a matrimonial ad in Kolkata then the best newspaper will be Anandabazar Patrika for that as it has the highest readership rate in West Bengal.

The first step for the maximum response of your newspaper advertisement is choosing the correct newspaper which will reach the correct target consumer of your advertisement. If you are giving any advertisement regarding any event or business which is region-specific then publishing in a local newspaper or local language newspaper is the best option.

Choosing the correct edition:  If your call centre is located in Bangalore and you want to hire people for night shift call support then publishing the advertisement in the Pune edition will not be helping you more. Because it is easy to assume that thus you are directing the ad to the wrong region people. Or if you have a house in Ranchi which you want to sell, the best option is to select the Jharkhand or Ranchi edition of any leading daily. Ifb you are looking for a bride or groom from your community or location then it is mandatory to select the appropriate edition for that.

Selecting the specific category: Before publishing an advertisement in a newspaper you must know what is the best suited category for your advertisement. Selecting the perfect category helps to get the proper response because readers can easily open that particular section and see the ad without wasting much time. Eg, make sure that if you are looking for a job then your ad must be published under ‘situation wanted’ category. Otherwise, it can create confusion among the readers or consumers regarding the call of action. This also affects the image of the newspaper.

Selecting the publishing date: Selecting the publishing date effect the response of your advertisement. You have to choose the appropriate date in order to get the maximum response. For eg; Publishing a recruitment ad on Saturday will be more effective than any other day.

Many publications publish different pullouts in respect of category. For eg, Times of India publish their property pullout on Friday in Bangalore. So choosing release dates according to all these aspects will help to get the maximum output from an advertisement.

Composing eye-catchy and informative advertisement creative: There are 3 ad formats in newspapers namely classified text, classified display and display. Display ads are specially for retail/branding, public announcements, tender, public notice, education admission notice etc. For personal/ individual requirements such as matrimony, selling property, selling automobiles, or change of name, newspaper classified ads are a more suited solution.

Composing ad matter is the most important job in terms of the effectiveness of the published advertisement. It is very important to maintain proper space, punctuation and spelling for generating a sense of authenticity, dependency among readers. In case of matrimonial ads, it is very necessary to mention age,  height, educational qualification or professional details and sharing if any special preferences are there like divorcee, non-divorcee, separated, NRI, physical disabilities and medical conditions etc.

While composing a name change ad, one must keep in mind to clearly mention the old name and new name in the matter.

In the Obituary and remembrance ad do not forget to mention the name and date of death of the deceased person and strictly not mention the reason of the death because that is not acceptable in most of the publication.

While composing an ad matter, the most common mistake people make is they skip mentioning their contact details. It is very important to mention that for obvious reasons otherwise people won't be able to contact you for business reasons.

For all of the above details, you can trust releaseMyAd because we have our experienced designers to design ad creatives in such a way that it will definitely hit the readers. Moreover, you can check the status of your ad till its get published by the unique ad id number which you will get after the booking procedure. You can use any of the online transaction systems to book advertisements with releaseMyAd. So it gives you the smooth experience of ad booking which you can avail by sitting at your home with just a few clicks. If you have more to know I will suggest you to contact our team by call or WhatsApp in this number 9830629298  or write us to book@releasemyad.com.

We have our 24*7 chat system which you can use by visiting our website.

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Book Advertisements In Bharat Tender News Newspaper !

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Trendy And Profitable Free Classified Websites

In the midst of the broad diversity of publicity mediums counting magazines and newspapers; radio and television; roadway signs; digital Point of purchase/ sale tools; leaflets and so on, advertising via free online classifieds publicity can allow you gross a lot of advantages. Within a very small time, the online classifieds has achieved a huge success. There are factually more than hundred of sites contending next to each other online. Essentially, the word free is a myth in the abode of advertisement or in print publications, but in case of online, you surely do find so many sites that tender their services for free of cost. Though, you require expending some time ravaging the net and surfing through articles and reviews to find reliable free online classified ads.While it's accurate that you have nil to drop, anyhow, as you are not shelling out anything, yet, you may desire to deem numerous points before you post free classified. The chief factor about free classified websites is the sum of traffic that website receives. As a vendor you would certainly desire your ad to get as much as publicity as probable isn't it? So glance for a website that is well-liked, one that constantly gets massive traffic all the time. More traffic indicates more opportunities of more people screening your ads. Other additional factors you may mull over are the effortlessness of knowing the site and the diversity of search choices accessible.

This should allow users to discover what they are hunting easily. Also, look for free classified sites that supply a thorough account of the items for trade and permit you to comprise photos of your thing in your station. Not many classified websites which are free have these abilities, so explore the web unhurriedly. Even though you will not be necessary to create any type of reimbursement, you may be required to register as a vendor. There will presently be a few other pre-requisites required of you to fill, and then you can make your profile and post free classified ads. For a customer, finding almost anything with free online classified ads can be very suitable, certainly. You might necessitate taking further safety measures before purchasing the goods online. That would be positive if the online seller resides in a derivable locations for seeing the thing first-hand, and surprisingly you might end up bargain the price with the seller. Another benefit of choosing for free online classifieds is that they craft you easily reached in a incredibly fewer time not more than five or ten minutes. Contrasting other options that take time, to broadcast advertisement be it print or television, they let your ad get visibility in some time. Nevertheless, the major benefit if you post free classified ads is that they allow you like worldwide survival. The free classified websites consists of those ads which become a part of World Wide Web that is available from anyplace in the world. In reality, with an enhance in the application of internet by people all over the web as well as with a boost in number of websites on the world of WWW, the likelihood of connecting to people and amplifying trade all over the world increases. You become obtainable to the individual residing in the United States even as are positioned.

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