#and the hiring people give no fucking feedback whatsoever

[jacqcrisis]

Round 5 of getting no call and no interview for an internal application and feeling like shit about being stuck in retail once more.

#jacq life #im just....frustrated #i feel like im stuck in limbo at my job #my regional manager wants me out of my position #i want out of my position #and the hiring people give no fucking feedback whatsoever #every time i just have no idea what im doing wrong when im a stellar employee and have put 5 years into this company #i need to start looking elsewhere for my mental health #im so fucking sick of being public facing #not just for my dysphoria

[curiousaboutcreativity]

The thing about creativity and art to me

Up until earlier this year I had been writing my fiction novel. It was many, many years in the making and in the final year of it, I was able to focus on it so much, putting other things aside, finding satisfaction in it every single day and having many people admire my conviction to really go through with it.

Well, I finished it. I mean, as much as I could finish it. I finished it as much as I could before I let outside forces in on it: feedback, revision, consideration, plans, time passing. At this point I'm not sure that I'll ever be done with it.

The thing that was done though, was focus.

I couldn't focus on completing my story anymore - that was done. And then I struggled to focus on walking the path towards publication. Among the many reasons for that included my never being super sure that writing a book was actually my thing. I wrote "a book" because I needed to write this story that lived in my head for 1-2 decades. But I never felt certain, that a book was the way to express my voice.

And then I hired an editor who confirmed that notion, which was good, in one sense. They were direct and honest. And it made me face reality. I still see a lot of truth in what they said.

But what they also did was to shatter my little bit of self esteem and hope that I had for the story and my skills. While trying to keep a friendly tone, they conveyed that I must have never heard of "show, don't tell" and that I should start attending some workshops since apparently I hadn't understood anything about writing. My story isn't publishable and even if I rewrote the whole thing for a few more years, there may be no hope whatsoever that I could ever publish it. The reason I wasn't able to write an exposé isn't because I struggled with conveying my story clearly, it was because my story wasn't clear to begin with. It might be enough to give it to a few friends and family who appreciate it.

It was a very hopeless, defeating conversation and it made me feel stupid and naive. I do accept and appreciate the truth in those words, but there was a cruelty underneath that said "You don't know how it's supposed to be done. How dare you" - at least that's what I perceived.

And then in the following days and weeks and months I started to go within. To explore what I want and what my voice is. I shouldn't focus solely on facing my creativity outward but I can't help but want to put something out into the world after all these years of only having worked creatively for others.

But creativity really - that's what I'm coming to understand more than ever now - for me is a way to exist mindfully in this world. The joy comes from being present with the thing that was or is being created. I didn't think I would ever say this, but I found a profound sense of fascination, awe and inspiration in taking photos of flowers. It's become a meditation for me.

My macro lens truly is teaching me a thing or two about focus. About looking closely. About discovering more of what's already there. The camera has become a meditation tool for me and is showing me that for me creativity is mindfulness. Mindfulness is creativity. I don't need to achieve. Observing, often, is enough.

Depending on where the focus goes, completely new images can arise, new details come to light, literally. New sets of colours and textures. And then the next day, it can all be gone, wilted or a new flower may have blossomed that was only a green speck the day before.

It's all transient.

So, my mind has been scattered as fuck. I have a thousand ideas and I feel like I'm not getting anywhere with anything, as if I was stuck. And that's frustrating, to say the least.

But now, my mission for this season is to focus. Focus on the joy of mindful creativity. I have a new project for my story and I want to see if my voice comes through with this one. It's not going to be a book. I'm leaving the book behind. But as a wild creative multimedia scholar, freelancer and low key artist, I decided I'm going to not give a crap about how things are supposed to be done. I don't want to put my voice into a pre-arranged box that it can't fit into anyway. I'm exploring my own creative expression and I'm trying my darndest to stick with it and to leave the doubts by the wayside.

If any of this resonates with you, I would love to hear from you, your project and your experience. Let's fuel creativity.

#Mindfulness #creativity #art #macro photography #photography #meditation

[mywildcreativeself]

The thing about creativity and art to me

Up until earlier this year I had been writing my fiction novel. It was many, many years in the making and in the final year of it, I was able to focus on it so much, putting other things aside, finding satisfaction in it every single day and having many people admire my conviction to really go through with it.

Well, I finished it. I mean, as much as I could finish it. I finished it as much as I could before I let outside forces in on it: feedback, revision, consideration, plans, time passing. At this point I'm not sure that I'll ever be done with it.

The thing that was done though, was focus.

I couldn't focus on completing my story anymore - that was done. And then I struggled to focus on walking the path towards publication. Among the many reasons for that included my never being super sure that writing a book was actually my thing. I wrote "a book" because I needed to write this story that lived in my head for 1-2 decades. But I never felt certain, that a book was the way to express my voice.

And then I hired an editor who confirmed that notion, which was good, in one sense. They were direct and honest. And it made me face reality. I still see a lot of truth in what they said.

But what they also did was to shatter my little bit of self esteem and hope that I had for the story and my skills. While trying to keep a friendly tone, they conveyed that I must have never heard of "show, don't tell" and that I should start attending some workshops since apparently I hadn't understood anything about writing. My story isn't publishable and even if I rewrote the whole thing for a few more years, there may be no hope whatsoever that I could ever publish it. The reason I wasn't able to write an exposé isn't because I struggled with conveying my story clearly, it was because my story wasn't clear to begin with. It might be enough to give it to a few friends and family who appreciate it.

It was a very hopeless, defeating conversation and it made me feel stupid and naive. I do accept and appreciate the truth in those words, but there was a cruelty underneath that said "You don't know how it's supposed to be done. How dare you" - at least that's what I perceived.

And then in the following days and weeks and months I started to go within. To explore what I want and what my voice is. I shouldn't focus solely on facing my creativity outward but I can't help but want to put something out into the world after all these years of only having worked creatively for others.

But creativity really - that's what I'm coming to understand more than ever now - for me is a way to exist mindfully in this world. The joy comes from being present with the thing that was or is being created. I didn't think I would ever say this, but I found a profound sense of fascination, awe and inspiration in taking photos of flowers. It's become a meditation for me.

My macro lens truly is teaching me a thing or two about focus. About looking closely. About discovering more of what's already there. The camera has become a meditation tool for me and is showing me that for me creativity is mindfulness. Mindfulness is creativity. I don't need to achieve. Observing, often, is enough.

Depending on where the focus goes, completely new images can arise, new details come to light, literally. New sets of colours and textures. And then the next day, it can all be gone, wilted or a new flower may have blossomed that was only a green speck the day before.

It's all transient.

So, my mind has been scattered as fuck. I have a thousand ideas and I feel like I'm not getting anywhere with anything, as if I was stuck. And that's frustrating, to say the least.

But now, my mission for this season is to focus. Focus on the joy of mindful creativity. I have a new project for my story and I want to see if my voice comes through with this one. It's not going to be a book. I'm leaving the book behind. But as a wild creative multimedia scholar, freelancer and low key artist, I decided I'm going to not give a crap about how things are supposed to be done. I don't want to put my voice into a pre-arranged box that it can't fit into anyway. I'm exploring my own creative expression and I'm trying my darndest to stick with it and to leave the doubts by the wayside.

If any of this resonates with you, I would love to hear from you, your project and your experience. Let's fuel creativity.

#Mindfulness #creativity #art #macro photography #photography #meditation

[astralaffairs]

concept: first lady mc reads of fotp!tjeff’s speeches and edits them for all the things she thinks are stupid or unethical. and he’s like “sweetheart, my party isn’t ready for universal healthcare. i can’t be pissing people off within the first month of my presidency.” but she couldn’t give a fuck and continues marking up his speeches with a red pen all while insisting he gets a new speech writer.

y'all need 2 STOP hitting me w concepts i like this much i have 0 self control and WILL write every damn one of them. there are like 4 sitting in my inbox rn smh.

(by which i mean pls keep sending me concepts like this i love writing fotp drabbles)

---

"What're you still doin' up?"

Y/N's eyebrows shot up as she looked up; a small, tired smile graced her lips as Thomas entered their bedroom, shaking his blazer off as the door fell shut behind him. "Hey. I'm glad you're back," she said softly. "I've just been tying up a few final loose ends with what I've been working on before I go to sleep."

"Can it wait until the morning?" he asked. He laid his blazer on the back of a chair at the side of the room before immediately starting to loosen his tie. "It's gettin' late. And I miss spendin' time with you. You work too much."

She scoffed, but her smile was only growing at his words. "Did you, the President of the United States, just tell me that I work too much?" He rolled his eyes as she spoke, just discarding his tie on the floor beside their bed. "That really is rich coming from you."

"Yeah, yeah, make fun all you want," he said, crossing the room to join her on their couch, "but you always overwork yourself, and you know it. You've been doin' it for as long as I've known you."

"Alright, I'll come to bed in a few minutes." He took a seat behind her, and when he rested his hand on her inner thigh, it sent shivers rippling across her skin. She looked up. "You go get some sleep. I'll finish this quickly. I promise."

"What're you workin' on, anyway?" She didn't protest when he withdrew the paper from her lap, glancing over it, and the corners of his lips quirked up. "Is this the address I'm givin' on Friday?"

"The very same."

"You shouldn't be losin' sleep over this," he said matter-of-factly, turning his head back toward her as he squeezed the top of her thigh lightly. "Either lose sleep spendin' time with your dear, sweet husband who's fucking sick of thinkin' about legislation, or just come to bed, hm?"

He passed her back the paper, instead looping an arm around her waist as he kicked his legs up onto their coffee table, and when he pulled her in to rest against his shoulder, she put up no protest.

"Just five more minutes. I promise." The barely-concealed yawn in her voice made Thomas look down at her skeptically.

"Alright, but I'm holdin' you to that. If you're still working in five minutes, I'll carry you to bed myself."

"No complaints here." She turned her head to kiss the corner of his mouth gently before she turned back to her paper, fidgeting with her red pen as she reached the last page of the document. Thomas's eyes had fallen shut; he was more than content to just sit there with her until she finished, as he had no desire whatsoever to think anymore about pushing his healthcare bill through Congress.

He opened his eyes when Y/N scoffed. Her pen ran down the page in a long slash, and she was pursing her lips as she jotted notes in the margins, but it made Thomas furrow his brow.

"Hey, now, what was so wrong with that paragraph?"

"Seriously?" She raised a skeptical eyebrow, glancing back at him. "You keep treating healthcare like it's some privilege that poor people should have to grovel at the feet of the rich to have access to. It can't be conditional like this."

"I'm not actin' like that," he defended. "I'm just sayin', hiking up taxes threefold isn't a sustainable way to fund this. It'd be an overreach from Congress. We've gotta use money efficiently."

"You fucking libertarian," she muttered. "The part of the bill about work requirements is gonna get killed in Congress. There's no way the House Democrats will vote to pass it unless you get rid of that."

"What's that got to do with my speech?"

"You're misrepresenting the legislation if you keep that paragraph," she said, proceeding to scribble out a sentence in the paragraph after. "And get rid of this. If you're trying to implement a public option, focusing on the private sector will get you nowhere. You're just gonna make people angry."

"I'm not 'misrepresenting' anything." He scowled. "Both those things are important for the bill."

"But this isn't a bill, Thomas; it's a speech," she huffed. "Anyway, the legislation needs to be universalized, or you can't 'mitigate poverty' how you claim to. Do you have any idea how many of the people who can't meet the work requirements on healthcare are going to end up in poverty because they can't afford the care they need?"

"I hear you," he started, "but this is the best way to make it more affordable without tankin' the economy."

"Have you even considered capital gains taxes?"

"That's gonna kill entrepreneurship."

"You're so full of it sometimes," Y/N scoffed. "'Entrepreneurs' won't be affected. It only affects, like, Jeff Bezos and Mark Zuckerberg, and they have so many assets that it literally doesn't matter."

"I'm not gonna sit here and argue with you about this. I'm not sayin' you're wrong, but I am sayin' this bill needs to be somethin' I can convince the Senate to pass," he said, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Then write a new bill that doesn't mean the people who are the worst off don't get coverage," she said, jotting that down on the side of the paper, "because this doesn't resolve the issue."

"I'll bring it up when I get the chance," he assured her, and she glanced back at him with a grateful smile. "Can I ask why this is so important to you?"

"Because I'm an empathetic person, and I care about people?" she replied, tone scathing, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Woah, there. That wasn't an attack, sweetheart," he said. "What's got you worked up?"

"I'm not 'worked up,'” she bit back, but when he gave her an apologetic look, gaze soft, her annoyance began to subside. “This is just a sore subject for me." Y/N finally lowered the paper in her lap, turning her head toward Thomas. "I know I've told you about how long my parents spent in the hospital before they passed."

"Yeah. Yeah, you have," he said softly. He turned, orienting himself in Y/N's direction so he could pull her into his lap, and while she sighed, she laid back against his chest.

"When they died, I was left with most of their healthcare debt," she continued. "I was living far below the poverty line for almost a decade because of it."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, and she laced her fingers into his with his arms around her waist.

"It was a long time ago," she replied. "I just don't want anyone else to end up in anything like the situation I was in. Nobody deserves that."

"No, they don't. I'll see what I can get past Congress." He kissed the side of her neck, and she hummed contentedly, squeezing his hands. "But I've still gotta discuss my plan for healthcare on Friday, so stop demolishing my speech."

"You asked me to look over it," she said frankly, and though her eyes had fallen shut when she laid against him, she cracked one open to glance at him skeptically. "These are my edits. Change the bill."

"That's an awful weighty edit, sweetheart."

"Hey, I also improved your phrasing," she went on, holding his paper up where they could both see it. "I'm making your speech better, don't complain about it."

"You cut my section about deductibles?"

"No one wants to talk about deductibles, babe." She tapped the paper with the back of her pen. "They want to know whether they'll be insured or not. They won't listen to the nuances of your bill in your public address. You're going to need a press release for that."

"And the part about family values?"

"It was useless." She shrugged. "I know you're just pandering to your party and all, but it sounded stupid in the context of the speech."

"Harsh," Thomas said, and the offense in his voice was mostly dramatized. Y/N pursed her lips. "But I can't be breachin' party lines in this speech. I'm not gonna get anything done if I turn the Senate Republicans against me."

"Listen, I'm not a political strategist, so that's your prerogative," she said matter-of-factly. "But if you don't like my feedback on your speeches, then hire a damn speechwriter, Thomas."

He hummed reluctantly. "But havin' you review my speeches gives me an excuse to spend more time with you. I don't have a whole lotta interest in having even longer meetings with White House staffers."

"Then take my edits to heart." She pursed her lips. "You know very well that I'm the only reason you have bipartisan support. If I didn't pick fights with you once a week about green energy, all the Democrats would still oppose all your stances on it."

"I'll look back over the speech in the mornin', then," he decided, and she shifted on the couch to face him, legs still draped over his lap. "I trust you."

"Good," she replied, and she looped her arms around his neck as she pulled herself up to kiss him. "But stop exploiting my degree in journalism."

"I'm not exploitin' it."

"Then what do you consider asking your wife to edit your speeches pro-bono to be?"

"A nice li'l side effect of managin' to convince someone so smart to marry me." She laughed as he pulled her back in to kiss him, but she gasped when he bit her lip teasingly, and his mouth drifted down her neck. "I love you," he murmured against her skin.

"I love you, too."

With that, Thomas hooked his arm up under her legs, and his smile widened against her neck when she yelped as he picked her up. "Now, I seem to remember sayin' something about carryin' you to bed if you were workin' for more than five minutes, so you don't get to negotiate anymore."

She squirmed in his grasp, but any of her efforts to get out of his arms weren't in earnest. She huffed. "So much for respecting personal liberty. Just wait until your voting bloc finds out all that rhetoric was just a lie."

"Oh, hush, let's not pretend you mind," he said as he tossed her down onto their bed, and she bounced when her back hit the mattress. He didn't hesitate to climb on after her. Though she tried to pull herself up to rest on the throw pillows, Thomas was on his hands and knees above her; she didn't have much of a range of movement when he dipped down to kiss her. "If you did, you wouldn't have married me."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Jefferson," she grumbled, despite wrapping her arms around his neck. "Talk all you want, but I dunno how smug you're gonna be when I up and leave you one of these days."

He grinned. "You know I don't buy that for a second." She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips twitched upward when he kissed her forehead. "You love me too much."

Despite everything, Y/N could feel herself flush. "Just go put on some pajamas so we can go to sleep."

"Alright, if you insist," he huffed, rolling off of her. "Be right back."

"You'd better hurry, or I might run off with Dolley and elope," she called after him, and Thomas laughed.

"'S cute, but we both know you aren't goin' anywhere."

"And why not?"

He raised a confident brow. "I'll tie you down if that's what it takes to keep you here, sweetheart."

"Wouldn't be the first time," she mumbled, turning to discard the throw pillows from the bed onto the floor.

When she looked back at him, his grin was still wide, smug, but the look in his eyes was soft. She pursed her lips as her own smile broadened. "Now go change. I'm not going to sleep without you."

"Fine. You need some rest.”

“Yeah. So do you.”

#freedom of the press #thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson fanfic #thomas jefferson imagines #thomas jefferson fanfiction #thomas jefferson fic #thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson x reader drabble #thomas jefferson x reader smut #thomas jefferson x reader imagines #thomas jefferson imagine #thomas jefferson scenarios #thomas jefferson scenario #thomas jefferson smut #thomas jefferson preferences #thomas jefferson preference #lafayette #marquis de Lafayette #lafayette fanfiction #lafayette fic #lafayette fanfic #lafayette x reader #marquis de lafayette x reader #lafayette x reader smut #lafayette x reader imagine #lafayette x reader imagines #lafayette imagines #lafayette imagine #lafayette scenario #lafayette scenarios

[bettsfic]

advice on getting through internship applications? i've been having a really rough year (i mean, obviously), and i feel so vastly underqualified to do literally anything but like i really need an internship at this point i think and every time i try to start writing cover letters i just start spiralling into self doubt. help?

i’m sorry you’ve had a rough year, anon. and i’m sorry you’re going through the internship ringer.

so i’m going to tell you a hard truth about the working world: until you have a decade of full-time work under your belt, you will be hired for your potential, not necessarily your qualifications. 

in other words, applying for an internship or entry level job is about conveying what you’re capable of in the future, not what you’ve done in the past. a good cover letter will tell a narrative of your life and highlight your values and interests, make connections between what experiences you do have and what the internship requirements are asking for. people in positions of mentorship want someone who genuinely cares about the field and wants to grow and succeed in it. 

my dad once told me he walked into an interview at a car dealership with no sales experience whatsoever, but he got the job. he did it by telling his interviewer, “it doesn’t matter what i’ve done before, what matters is that i will learn to do this job, and i will do it better than anyone else. give me a chance and i’ll prove it to you.”

my dad was a man of grandiose stories, so this is likely not true. however he told me a version of this story before every interview i had, and i’ve always said some variation of that sentence, a little milder, a little more eloquent in interviews, and i’ve never not gotten a job i’ve interviewed for. i always tell myself, if i can get to the point where i’m sitting in front of someone with any kind of decision-making authority, i can work my way in. 

(this is how i got into the phd too btw. phds don’t have interviews, so i got rejected from the first two schools i applied to. i applied late to the third school and ended up just picking up the phone and calling the director of cw. we talked for an hour. i applied to following monday, and i was accepted by friday.)

on paper, for someone my age, i am not an impressive individual. i have a science undergrad degree, 10 years of banking experience, a mountain of volunteer work, and 1.3 graduate degrees in english with a combined 5 years of teaching experience. i’ve worked at subway and a chinese restaurant. i altered bridal gowns for 3 years. i used to clean offices at 10pm every night for seven bucks an hour. if you saw just a list of shit i’ve done, you’d be like, “what the fuck is this person even about?”

a list of my accomplishments doesn’t make any sense. but a cover letter allows me to tell my story, not just piecing together the work i’ve done, but how it might lead to what i want from life, and why i want it. a cover letter is about connecting the bullet points of your resume in a compelling way. altering bridal gowns doesn’t say much about me until i also tell you that i held two other part-time jobs while maintaining a full course load and a 4.0 GPA, all while my dad was dying of cancer. that says everything you need to know about me as an employee. 

but what’s most important is that a cover letter allows you to express your goals, values, and ideals. for me, i spend a paragraph addressing the fact i spent a decade of my life floundering and not knowing what i wanted. then in the following paragraphs i talk about how my odd array of experiences make me an interesting person who adapts easily to new environments and picks up skills quickly. i’m invested in teamwork and uplifting my peers. i appreciate mentorship and opportunities to mentor. that may all sound somewhat jargony but it’s also absolutely true. what i try to get at is that i care, so much, about everything, all the time. 

but i also try to convey the things i’m not. i’m not blindly obedient. i’m not quiet or reserved. i value integrity above all things. i’m curious and critical and interested in my own improvement and the improvement of those around me. i constantly give and ask for feedback. i question all authority. i tend to do things my own way, or i don’t do them at all. if a task seems illogical or feels like busy work, i won’t do it. i say “no” frequently and will not be bullied or spoken down to. i don’t take orders very well and i wither under micromanagement, or really any position where i’m not a leader of some kind. there are many, many jobs that would not want me because of these things. and that’s good. it’s those jobs and places i want to be rejected from. if i can’t be myself somewhere, then i don’t want to be there. the same goes for people and relationships. there are plenty of people who don’t like me, and that’s fine. i don’t exist to be liked.

so my advice is, don’t treat a cover letter as a reluctant formality. treat it like a story of yourself. be as honest as you can (but positive; never express anything negative about yourself or your experiences). hiring and admissions committees don’t exist to determine whether or not you’re worthy, but whether or not you’re a good fit for the position. the truer you are to yourself in your cover letter, the easier it is for them to determine whether you’re right for them and they’re right for you. it’s okay not to be the right fit for every position you apply to. in fact you shouldn’t be. it’s better to own one pair of jeans that fit you well than ten pairs that don’t. 

also sorry, i don’t generally plug my services at the end of these posts, but i’ve edited an obscene number of cover/admissions letters, and i’d be happy to take a look at a draft of yours. you can fill out this form if you’re interested!

#writing advice #Anonymous

[minblush]

Is he writing or is he translating fuck this is highkey upsetting what is wrong with bighit why would you hire a misogynist when you know the majority of bts fans are girls 🤔🤔🤔🤔

writing from what i heard :) and i mean they’re okay with supreme boi who co-wrote this rape fantasy song with his best buddy girlfriend-beater iron.. so yeah.. are we surprised? no

Anonymous said:every day I’m seeing more bts fans lacking critical thinking skills there are quite a few who speak out but majority either say “dont make a big deal about it” or “ please support and trust the boys they worked hard uwu” you can’t say anything without being attack also the only reason they were able to brand themselves as socially conscious was because fans specifically korean fans called them out and they knew it was wrong but if no one says when they fuck up now how can they improve or learn??

yeah even this issue now a lot of army are like -let’s not blow it up, deal with it quietly it could hurt the boys ohnnooo-, but yeah i mean.. i feel like bighit isn’t especially fond of fans bringing things to them anymore? the other day k-fans were asking for feedback on the fancafe and bighit did but at the same time demoted the membership of everyone that asked so adksd

Anonymous said:hi! so i saw you say you have a hard time writing and you dont really like your writings? :( not sure if this helps in any way whatsoever but i just wanted to let you know i have a friend that always recommends your ao3 to everyone cause she loves them so much ^~^ i guess i just meant to say there are a lot of people who really love your fics so yeah maybe this doesn’t help at all but i still wanted you to know

thank you, no this is very sweet of you! thank you a lot! i have got nice feedback over the years.. it’s just more about my inability to be satisfied with everything i do.. but thank you a lot ;; ♥

Anonymous said:people out there saying they’d support any other group bh will put out, but do you think that’s possible? like they don’t even really support that one artist under the company I feel as if they’d only care if the group’s gonna be another bts and even if they turn up with their hypocrisy and say they won’t compare them I’d bet my house they’d do exactly that

i’m sorry, honestly i don’t particularly care about this subject so i don’t really have an opinion to share

Anonymous said:I feel like bts are catering towards the wrong type of people, if they continue to stay ignorant of words from fans with brains they’ll really be left alone with a massive fanbase of superficial teenagers

i think it’s reaching that point a bit, they have been continuously alienating the people that aren’t as easily manipulated

Anonymous said:lately I’ve also been thinking about the cult aspects the fandom has gotten, how the whole ‘rose from poverty and with an indebted company to stardom’ thing got to their heads and whenever some minor setbacks get to them they quote it like a mantra. like I’m no ignorant prick to not know of that but it’s been long over and they now have more than most, but I get how glorifying their past helps set them apart from others (1/?)

Anonymous said:the thing is though, they’re not the only one’s coming from nothing. idk it’s just weird how for each accomplishment the same citations are used. and you’re more than right, they now don’t have that ‘on the brink of dissolvement’ issue going on anymore so their personalities and genuineness is the only thing holding the fans together (2/?)

Anonymous said:and bh knows that which is why they’re promoting it so strongly. the thing is, it’s so damn easy to distinguish genuine acting from scripted, and the second has been happening a lot more since their breakthrough. this doesn’t seem coherent at all I’m sorry lmao I hope I got my point across, just know, as much as it hurts, I get that you’re 100% right, and it makes my going on twt all the more of a cringe fest (3/3)

yes i agree, honestly the boys said thing before that they were aware that they used to be underdogs but not anymore, so they they would be trying to be careful with that, but idk anymore, and the fandom can’t let it go either way, despite the fact that bighit has much more pull in the industry now, the fandom still acts like it’s the poor neglected company and that’s why we have to give them so much slack! music videos and staff cost money that’s why they can have shit quality control and can overprice their merch and take advantage of fans with their sleazy marketing tactics with release dates of merch (the bombs, the dvd vs bluray situation before), they’re only a company that is worth almost 2 billion dollars :0 poor them!!!! but yeah you are very coherent and i agree that things just feel so much more controlled and tighter now and it’s harder for me to get into things and even believe the genuine things they might be saying when every other thing they say is a blatant lie :( but yeah >o

#ask #anon #and again dozen people unfollowed me for sharing that tweet #like this is what most bts fans are #parading around bts's social consciousness but the second something that could challenge that shows #they run away with their eyes closed and ears plugged

[flying-elliska]

Justice league thoughts

Overall, really meh. I was mostly bored. It just boggles my mind that the writing for such a beloved tentpole franchise can be so fucking lazy. Like they have all this money and can't find competent writers or people to give them feedback ? I used to be much more of a DC fan as a teen, I adored the Nolan movies but now when I think about the universe I have no enthusiasm left whatsoever. Oh now we're supposed to be all 'ooh he said Darkseid' but there is no work done whatsoever to make it interesting.The plot and villain were so fucking lame. It feels like it was written by a bunch of marketing execs ticking off boxes. The characters don't talk like real people. Blegh.

Also the portrayal of Diana was sooo much more male gazey compared to WW it was gross. All the shots of Diana's butt in leather pants or from the ground up or jokes about falling on her boobs or Alfred commenting on how hot she is...ew. Like she did have to be brought back to that but it never happens to anyone of the male characters... It was kind of jarring. And I really hope they're not going to put her in a love story with Bruce ugh. Affleck is not aging well lmao and it would be ironic for Gal Gadot to have to play love interests with a man that has repeatedly been accused of sexual harassment. I get the whole Batman redemption arc from being a douche thing but I am so tired of the 'being rich is his superpower' jokes it's not that funny and I am so done with the whole billionaire superhero thing.

It's not all bad though. Gal Gadot continues to be amazing. She makes Diana so radiant and compassionate and strong, it transcends whatever scene she's in or mediocre writing. The scene where she talks about being afraid to lead and lead people to their deaths really got to me. And that scene in the beginning where she stops all the bullets was !! The Flash was adorable and - can’t focus, too fast, anxious, finds people slow, spazzy, enthusiastic, goes on tangents, weird but kind of charming, no sense of orientation, loyal, kind, needs more friends ? Definitely ADHD. And I liked Cyborg and Aquaman they were just introduced in this super rushed way that sucked a lot of the potential coolness out of it. Jason Momoa is just really cool and good looking !! Amber Heard as well even though she was only there for 2 seconds and what she said made no sense !

Plus they decided to start making Superman charming again, wow! The first post credit scene with him racing the Flash was one of my faves. I mean I am not opposed to grim, realistic superheroes but for that to work, you have to have good writing that actually delves into the complex human consequences of the stuff you're bringing up and the DCEU proved they are incapable of that. So it's good they are going a sunnier route. It actually gives the tiniest little hope for the DCEU's future - this still had relents of the fetid horror that was BvS but it was more like a palate cleanser or something and it looks like they could do some cool stuff next. If they manage to hire people who can be funny without being grossly sexist that is...i guess we'll see...

#dceu #justice league #spoilers #movie reviews #wonder woman #rant #batman #superman #the flash #cyborg #aquaman #dc #adhd headcanons

[casually-sean]

Thinking

Just got done with my run. Sitting here, cutting my nails after my shower (the best time to do it) I can hear my roommate listening to Sean Payton talk about winning the Super Bowl.

Something that I’ve believed at my core even without vocalizing it is that, no matter how successful I am, my slow come up and less than stellar past would inevitably hamstring me from being among the truly elite.

I think I’ll be able to make a good amount of money in my life and I think I have the chops to make good art that I’m proud of. But when it comes to money for example, I figure I’ll be able to do it on my own with a <20 person operation. The idea of maybe one day running or being a C-level at a Fortune 500 company seems like something that would be beyond my grasp -- I didn’t do the networking at an elite university, am not using the most autonomous years of my late-20s and early-30s to forge the relationships and skills that I should be. The opportunity will arise, I will be ill-equipped, and must pass it up to give to someone who knows how to do it better. I feel as if I’ll get to a point in art, let’s say filmmaking, where I make a couple of small films with a few people and then comes a point where there’s a huge production and I’ll be like “oh fuck how do I actually manage that many teams???”

I don’t want to stray to far, back to the thought.

It just hit me though that in the next few years, in accomplishing all the tasks that seem impossible to me now, precisely those are the experiences that will prepare me to lead those people and create those things.

When I create my chat application, have it deployed, get feedback from colleagues and the world, create my social media app, that’s what’s going to prepare me to go bigger and manage. And in managing those 20 people I’ll learn how to manage 40 people. Then 100 people.

In making a film, first just to execute small ideas, 3-10 minute little diddys with a couple of friends, that’s what will get my eye on the next idea with a couple of hired hands, that’s what gets me the confidence to go networking with other filmmakers who can give me guidance on the type of people to hire. I’ll be confident enough to share with people because I’ll be a doer not just a person who talks about doing.

I will no longer be the person dreaming big, impossible dreams with no experience whatsoever. I’ll be the person who has done it, done it well, has learned, and wants to do it bigger.

Every little step you take makes you a different person.

I thought this was a Will Smith quote but can’t find a source so I’ll just post it how I remember it... “Have dreams so big that you will have to become the person who can accomplish them”...

Anyway. Endorphin thoughts.

[clockworksampi]

‘Squeeze’ Commentary

Longer works always present a problem for me, which is why I so seldom write them. They exist in a separate formula entirely from the academic technicalities of one-shots, and it’s a formula I have zero insight on how to balance. Therefore, I took a lot of time and asked more people than usual to pre-read this to make sure I perform to the extent of my abilities. Theme and pacing are the two things I’m the worst at. The only thing I ever set out to do is write some gags and make some people laugh. Every time I consciously attempt to write something with a theme, it just looks preachy. Whenever I attempt pacing, it all seems slow and uninteresting. And I don’t know if the characters I write can sustain attention for longer than ten minutes. I still try, because the art of storytelling is one that is truly wonderful when done correctly. Even if I’m a long way off from doing that. I don’t want to be the pontifical asshat edifying the blithering masses because I’m so much worldlier than everyone else on this ball of mud floating in space (which is aggressively untrue), but theme and revelation are vital aspects of storytelling. Every story, even Touhou fan-fiction, needs emotional and intellectual engagement to be great. I tried to make the theme a pretty simple and transparent one. In the immortal words of the venerable Mitch Hedberg: “I’m not a fuckin’ genius for christsakes, y’know, fuckin’, just tryin’ to tell some jokes. Shit! Who the fuck are you!?” I try to live my life by that shining ethos.

 The ending fight scene with Mokou and Flandre was originally very, very different, in the sense that it didn’t exist and involved pocket dimension snowmen. It was changed several times to arrive at what it currently is. Not even joking. You can figure out for yourselves how the narrative arrived at that. I’m not sure myself. A shame, considering the original draft was rather well-written; too bad it made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

 Fun Fact: Remilia calls Yorihime ‘Yo-yohime’ because I, me the writer, actually forgot what Yorihime’s name was. 

 This work marks the first thing I’ve done where characters are actually in a relationship. I usually don’t like shipping, for the sole reason that very little of ships across the Internet are predicated upon the canon of the primary source. Although I will admit I am not without my predilections, hence why Hecatia and Junko are implied to have crushes on each other in Judgement Call. As far as I’m concerned, the only pairing in the Touhou Project that could be construed as canon is Miko and Tojiko, as they are based on two real life people who were real life married. Mokou and Keine are a thing in this because Mokou having a strong relationship with a human (well, sorta human) is an important motivation point. I pray you can forgive me for shipping.

 Of course, here am I acting all high and mighty about canon with all the liberties I took with the characters’ powers. If there’s one thing I learned from super hero comics, bending the rules and giving people power they should not have either goes over mediocre, or disastrous with little middle ground. Since progression and iteration, and the benefits and dangers that go along with them were some of the major themes of the story, I felt compelled to give the characters a little more. I did try to connect the more outlandish of things to official sources, or give them what I thought to be appropriate buildup. These things need to be sold, and I hope I sold them well enough. But maybe I’m wrong on that, and I will capitulate fully to anyone disagrees. I know Touhou canon is held extremely sacredly in fan works.

 That was sarcasm, but this is one thing I do want feedback on. Let’s get into some of the more interesting choices I made for the characters.

 Can Flandre destroy abstract concepts? Probably not, but I went with ‘she can, but hasn’t figured out how.’ And I’m pretty sure I misinterpreted how the whole ‘Eye’ thing works. I did make Eyes of abstract concepts fundamentally different than Eyes of physical things, because they are different, and they should be different to destroy.

 I agonized over giving Remilia a resistance to rain, but I hope I sold it well enough. She has shown several times in canon that she has an aversion to it, as a vampire should, and is something cataclysmic to Flandre in the work. By all accounts, this resistance should not exist, and I will admit that. However, Remilia has also shown that she has been building up a tolerance to sunlight and claims that her body is not weak. I don’t think it’s so far-fetched to assume that she is not entirely powerless to water.

 Remilia Scarlet is my favorite character, hands down, in all of Touhou. I therefore had to make doubly sure she was not given much in the way of favor. Which was a little difficult because in this work she played a puppet master, exposition style character who set up the plot of the story and, as a result, knew everything that was going to happen because of her broken-tier power. She seemed built for the role. I really don’t think I succeeded in pulling her out of the spotlight as much as I wished. Lessons for next time. I based her part largely on Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully and Lord Vetinari from the Discworld series, as the one who commands sensibility with an iron first, can be bullheaded at times and embodies the central theme of whatever story, with Sakuya being the Ponder. I’ll be honest, I don’t think I pulled the archetype off as well as the late Sir Pratchett. Here, I would probably make a joke about how his legacy living on in a fan-fiction of a bullet hell video game with an entire cast of little girls is exactly how Sir Pratchett would have wanted it, but I respect the man too much to sully his name like that.

 I think Keine got the short end of the characterization stick. She really doesn’t feel like much of a character me, more than she is a vessel to push the plot forward and exist. She’s somewhat stiff. She has a few jokes, but they’re few and far between. I don’t think I did a good job with Keine.

 I am likewise unsatisfied with how I portrayed Sakuya. She comes off as a little too serious, I think. But at the same time, she was understandably frustrated with serving Cirno.

 Speaking of Sakuya, I’ve always been a fan of the theory that she started as a vampire hunter who Remilia defeated. It strikes me as a very Remilia thing to hire the people who tried to kill you because it makes your life interesting. Have you ever noticed how Remilia’s two greatest defenders command silver knives and the rain? Makes me wonder if Meiling didn’t try to take a crack at Remilia back in the day.

 Also speaking of fan theories, I rather like the idea of Mokou smoking (don’t smoke, kids, it’ll kill you). But I even more like the idea of hand-rolled cigarette over ones from the pack; rolling your own just has a certain class to it I can’t help but admire.

 Why can Meiling make rain? Isn’t her ability controlling qi? Yes, it is. However, she is also (according to the interpretation I chose for her) a rainbow dragon. Rainbow dragons can probably control the rain, right? Flandre has the ability to destroy anything, but she is still a vampire, with all the strengths and weaknesses that comes with. Besides, don’t Meiling’s danmaku patterns revolve around plants, rainbows or rain? It seemed like a logical thing.

 I don’t know what Cirno’s accent is. This is why it changes every ten seconds.

 There are five things I specifically want critiques on: Did I go too far with artistic liberties? How was the pacing? How was the theming? Were the characters interesting throughout? What was your favorite pun? My favorite pun? Definitely a toss-up between vampires not being predisposed to reflection and Mokou solving the Incident before it got into later stages. Equivoques galore! I especially like the second one because it’s very Touhou specific. Which one was your favorite?

Also my first time doing a multi-chaptered thing. Hopefully I got the formatting down on the first go.

#fan fiction #commentary #touhou

[danijimenezv]

It Never Ends Well (Part 2)

Prompt/Summary: Based on “The Ugly Truth”, for @hunters-from-stark-tower movie challenge.

Pairings: Bucky x Y/N, eventual Clint x Y/N, Natasha x Sam

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, vulgarities…

Word Count: 3444

A/N: Some of the lines used in this fic don’t belong to me, I got them out of the movie, so credit to the writers. I’d love to hear what you think, feedback is always appreciated.

Part 1

“Good morning, everyone.” you chirped as you entered your office side by side with Natasha.

“Morning, Y/N.” Wanda smiled kindly at you, “You left your phone here yesterday, so I took it with me.”

“Thanks, Wanda. You’re a lifesaver.” you muttered, placing various papers on your desk, without taking your eyes off some document, “Anything important.”

“Actually, yes. Mr. Stark called early today.” your eyes widened at her words, “He didn’t recognize my voice, so I pretended to be you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine.” you dismissed, “Why did Tony call?”

“He called for a meeting.”

“Great, at what time should Nat and I go?”

“Actually, he called all of us to the meeting.”

You stopped in your tracks, Natasha also halting her actions and looking at you with an eyebrow raised. It was usual for you to have meetings every once in a while with your boss, but it was rare for a meeting to involve everyone.

“Everyone?” your friend asked, and Wanda nodded.

“He said he had something important to tell all of us, regarding the magazine’s future, so as soon as we were all here, we should go up to the conference room in the penultimate floor.”

“Okay…” you frowned and took a deep breath, and, taking your block of notes, exited your office, followed close by the two ladies, “Everyone! You have three minutes to get your asses to the conference room in the penultimate floor. Mr. Stark called for a meeting.”

Everyone rushed around, gathering everything that might be important for the meeting. In a matter of minutes, all of Stark Magazine’s employees found themselves seated organized on the multiple chairs around the long table in the conference room. Natasha and you took the places at the side of the head. Tony was already there, and he waited patiently until you were all settled down, your attention on him.

“Great. Morning, everyone. Now, before I play you this, I should warn you… this guy is wild, rough around the edges, but exactly what we need. Jarvis?”

“Right away, sir.” a robotic voice came from above us, and soon enough, a record from a radio show last night played over the room, making you and Natasha widen your eyes and gasp in recognition and in panic as the redhead’s voice blared from the speakers. Sam frowned slightly, probably recognizing his girlfriend’s voice, but decided to say nothing about it.

“Why are we listening to this crap?” you interrupted, bringing Natasha out of her mortified state.

“Because that guy’s a genius.”

“That guy’s a pig.” you begged to differ.

“Pig or not, say hello to our new commentator.” Tony smirked.

“What?!”

“He’ll be starting a new segment of our magazine.”

“How is that supposed to be of any help, Tony? Honestly.” you sighed, “People will send their relationship problems or something like that, and he’ll answer it in a column in the next edition? With all due respect, boss, nobody is going to want to send anything else after hearing this moron’s first response.”

“Yeah, and who the hell is this guy?” Pietro voiced.

“Glad you ask, Maximoff.” Stark replied, still beaming with pride at his new idea, “Name’s Clint Barton.”

“He’s a misogynist who represents everything wrong in society.” Maria rolled her eyes, “I second Y/N; I don’t think someone like him is what this magazine needs.”

“You might not want to hear it from me, Tony.” Bruce sighed, “But they’re right. Having this guy in the magazine could create controversy, which means more work for you and Pepper.”

“Oh, come on!” he bellowed, “It’s not that bad. He’s got a point of view, we don’t have to like it. And, for an independent radio show, he sure gets a lot of ratings, which is what we need. You work in a magazine, people. You’re objective about others’ opinions. Do it for the sales.”

“Maybe we could get other ideas to improve the sales.” Wanda contributed shyly.

“Unless you get juicy pictures of our dear president banging three crack whores and a horse, no one’s going to give a fuck.” a man’s voice came from the door, and your head whipped to the direction of the sound, finding a man in his mid-forties, with dirty-blonde short hair and blue eyes, “I’m sorry, I was eavesdropping out in the hall.”

“See? He’s great.” Tony clapped.

“Thanks, boss.”

“You already hired him?!” you asked, dumbfounded.

“And who would be this delightful creature?”

“Barton, she’s Y/N Y/LN. The editor in chief.”

“Basically, your second boss along with me.” Natasha added, with a scowl etched on her face, but introduced herself nonetheless, “Natasha Romanoff, design director.”

“Hey.” he smirked at us, “I like women on top.”

“You mind not telling that to my girlfriend right in my face?” Sam snapped and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, sorry, man.” Barton apologized and turned to you, sending you a quick wink, “Hey, hottie.”

“You disgust me.” you hissed, “Tony, is he for real? Are you for real?”

“Maximoff-”

“Which Maximoff?” Wanda questioned.

“Pietro.” Tony specified, “Can you show our new asset to his new office?”

“Thanks, boss.”

“You’re going to love it.”

Stark exited the conference room, quickly followed by Barton and Pietro, and stayed in the hall talking to his new favourite. You turned your head to look at the rest of your team.

“He needs to go.” your statement earned small nods from the majority of your coworkers.

You looked away from the scene in front of you, not wanting to see the troubled look on the rest of the guys nor your boss with the new employee. A bitter smile formed in your face as your gaze rested on the small screen in one of the coffee tables, and saw the security footage from outside the building. Tony had made your morning miserable by bringing that poor excuse of a human being; this was karma.

“Mr. Stark.” you interrupted his conversation with the blonde man, “I ought to let you know, your wife just walked into the building and is probably on her way to your floor.”

He groaned loudly, and made his way to his office in the last floor, clearly waiting for whatever problem Pepper was going to bring to him today, leaving Barton with Pietro.

You grabbed your stuff and stormed out, taking the stairs down to get to your floor.

“Y/N, hi.” you encountered Pepper on your way down, as she was ascending.

“Mrs. Stark, it’s a pleasure to have you here.” you nodded.

“Please, call me Pepper.”

“Why aren’t you using the elevator?”

“Oh, it was taking too much. And I need Tony to actually be responsible for once in his life and face some of his company’s problems.”

“Mr. Stark is on his office, at the top floor.”

“Thanks, Y/N. No wonder why my husband keeps you around. You might be the only reason this magazine still works.” she rolled her eyes and sighed, “Anthony couldn’t have done it without you. I swear, sometimes he’s as useless as he can get.”

“Thank you…” you ignored her insult to your boss.

You continued your way to your office. For the next half an hour, you spent your time alone in your office while Nat talked to Sam, pacing on the wooden floor, muttering soothing things to yourself so you could calm down, when the reason of your stress walked in without knocking.

“I don’t know why I was expecting you to have any modals whatsoever and knock, like a civil person.”

“You’re so wound up about me being here.”

“Can’t imagine the reason.” you let out sarcastically.

“Why so tense?” Barton asked in a seductive whisper, “I bet I know exactly how to help you.”

You scoffed and took several steps away from him, eager for some distance, “Have you no respect at all?”

“Seriously, what is really your problem with me? This is something that goes way beyond than simple dislike.”

“We had a little phone conversation last night, live on your show.” you crossed your arms over your chest, “I wasn’t the one directly speaking, but essentially, the conversation was between you and me.”

“That’s why her voice sounded familiar, the redhead…” he muttered thoughtfully, “Well, who would have thought? You two are not ugly at all.”

“Like I needed your assurance.”

“Look, Y/N, right? I want to thank you for this job. I would’ve never gotten it without your help from last night. You have to admit, we make a hell of a team.”

“First, we’re not a team.” you emphasized, “Second, what makes you think we can work together? You create imbecilic trash heard by housebound subdeveloped humans who are so busy with their hands down their pants they can’t change the station.”

“Nice image you’re painting yourself in. Now I can’t stop picturing you with your hand down your pants.”

“I’m not part of that image. I don’t hear your shit, I was just passing through the stations.”

“Sure you were, sweetheart.” you wanted to smack the smirk off his face, but you contained yourself.

“I, on the other hand, am part of a well-known magazine with a variety of subjects of interests, without having to make sexual innuendos about anything.”

“And that’s why your sales were going down and Stark hired me to save the day. Admit it, Y/N, you need me here to keep the magazine afloat.”

“Don’t forget, Barton, I am the editor.” you reminded Clint harshly, “Everything passes through me before printing. And if I don’t want, you’re not in the published magazine. Sure, Stark may be the big boss and everything, but this is basically my magazine. I can tell Tony the printing company had some problems and your page got lost. It would be that easy.”

“You can’t afford to do that.”

“I can’t? Are you sure?”

“Are you willing to sacrifice the future of the magazine and the jobs of several people just because you’re too stubborn to admit you need my help?”

“You think you’re sooo great with relationships, don’t you?” you changed the subject.

“It’s not that complicated. I know men; I know how they are and what they want. I only speak the truth romantic women like you don’t want to hear it.”

“Fine.” you licked your lips as an idea formed in your mind, “If you want to be here, you’ll have to pass the test.”

“Test?” Clint cocked his head to one side in confusion, in a rather endearing gesture, which was odd in him.

“Well, as an editor, I can’t simply let you write whatever you want. You have to demonstrate it really is your area of expertise.”

“Wasn’t last night enough?”

“No.” you pursed your lips, trying to hide your evil smirk, “Follow me.”

As you walked down the hall, some of your coworkers followed you and Barton, curious to see what you had in store.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Maria muttered as you passed by her desk.

“I do.”

Once the elevator arrived to the last floor and the doors opened with a loud ‘ding’, you walked out along the rest and pointed to the end of the hall, where it could be seen through the glass doors that Tony and Pepper were immersed in a heated fight, once again.

“I present you Mr. and Mrs. Stark.” you couldn’t wipe the cocky grin off your face, and your coworkers snickered once they realized your idea, “Tony and Pepper have been married for two years and a half. And it’s the most dysfunctional and damaged marriage ever, in the history of marriages. If you get them to be the happy couple they once were, I’ll leave you with your position in the magazine. If you, on the contrary, do not manage to fix them, well, you’re fired. Your call, Barton.”

“And if I refuse to do it?”

“Then you’re fired either way. The only way you get this job is if you pass the test.”

He gave you a blank expression, not showing anything, until a cocky smile appeared on his lips, “Watch and learn, hottie.”

“This might be your best idea yet, Y/N.” Nat whispered in your ear, “Tony and Pepper are a lost case.”

“I know. That’s why I did it.”

“If that man pulls it, he’ll be my idol for life.” Sam said jokingly.

“He’s not going to make it.” Wanda responded, “There’s no way he can fix something that has been broken for more than a year.”

However, your smile faded and your mood dropped as, seven minutes later, after having talked to them for some time and getting them to stop yelling, he pushed Tony’s and Pepper’s chairs together, forcing them closer to each other. Tony had a look of pure uncertainty on his face, while Pepper just looked confused. You couldn’t make out what they were saying through the glass, but you didn’t need to, their body language being indicative enough.

“No way.” Pietro let out a shocked laugh, not believing what he was seeing.

Tony seemed to shout something to Pepper, before joining their lips together and bringing her impossibly close.

“This can’t be happening.” you mouthed, as your gaze was still trained on your boss and his wife having an intense make-out session, and your jaw dropped open in surprise.

“Clint Barton actually managed to fix the unfixable.” Natasha replied, also looking at them with an astonished expression.

You remained in the same place, stuck because of the shock. After a few minutes, the three of them emerged from the room, Tony with his arm around Pepper’s waist as she snuggled against him.

“Y/N, you are amazing.” Pepper practically squealed.

“For what?” you were like a deer in headlights.

“Clint is going to be a great addition to the magazine.”

“It was actually your husband who got me here.” Clint added.

“Well, my husband happens to be a genius, as I’ve always known.” she looked up at him with a loving stare.

You all looked thunderstruck as they made their way out of the building together, still unable to wrap your heads around what had just happened. You turned to look at the blonde, blue-eyed man, still in a daze.

“I’d like my office, thank you very much.” Barton smirked cockily, “Anything you want to say, Y/N?”

You muttered, trying to hide your disdain, “Clint Barton, welcome to Stark Magazine, I guess…”

“I’m telling you, Nat. I’m still not sure if it’s a good idea to have that guy in the magazine.” you sighed, pressing your phone between your shoulder and your ear as your hands busied themselves folding clothes.

“I know, but he did the impossible.” she spoke slowly, “He fixed Tony and Pepper’s marriage; not even the most expensive therapists have managed to do that. I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt and actually give him a chance. Maybe the sales will improve with him.”

“I’m still going to edit most of his part.”

“Figured.”

“What do we even know about this guy?”

“Well, I took the liberty to dig a little.”

“This is why I love you.” you chuckled at your best friend’s antics, “What did you find out?”

“His full name is Clinton Francis Barton, he moved here from Iowa when he was 12, belonged to the Archery Little League with an unbeatable record, which I think it’s cute because archery is pretty useless.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything, Nat. The only thing that tells me is that he’s good at shooting and can possibly be a good serial murderer.”

“He was a regular guy in high school, spent two years in the state university before dropping out and working in a company, was once arrested for peeing out of a moving car, wow, I have to admit that’s impressive.”

“How in the hell you found out about all of this?”

“I have my sources.” you could picture the smirk on her face, “Married then divorced.”

“Wait.” you stopped her, “A woman was mad enough to say yes to him in the first place? That’s shocking. Who’s the miserable lady?”

“Her name is Laura. She actually kept his last name after the divorce for the sake of their kids.”

“He has kids?!” you gasped, “And he still acts the way he does? There’s something wrong with that guy.”

“Cooper and Lila Barton.” Natasha stated, “They live nearby too.”

You were about to reply when your gaze noticed the open window and your cat going out. You groaned loudly, “Natasha, I have to go. Guinevere went out of the window and I have to get her.”

“You left the window open?”

“It was hot inside.” you defended, “I don’t know why she likes to go to the fire exit stairs. I swear she can stay the whole day there.”

“Well, good luck, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow at work. Printing day, remember?”

“Yeah, there’s no way I could forget I need to check everything one last time. Bye.”

You started climbing out of your window, being careful not to fall from the second floor. Crawling along the edge of the windows, you made your way to the metal platform, where Guinevere was lying down.

“Hey, Guinevere. Come here.”

However, your cat made no effort to move at all. You cursed softly under your breath and continued your way to get to your pet. Once there, as you crouched down to pick up Guinevere, your foot slipped and got stuck in a whole between metal bars. You yelped in pain, forcefully trying to get your foot out but with no result. Your call for help wasn’t as loud as you tried for.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry for botherin-”

Your sentence was cut short upon resting your eyes on the man that had poked half-naked chest out of a wide window. The man before you was absolutely stunning, and you couldn’t help but blatantly stare at him. His dark brown hair was soaked and disheveled, a single strand falling in front of his face and making small droplets fall on his toned chest and abs, disappearing under a white towel hanging loosely around his hips, leaving the rest to the imagination. His factions were simply perfect, with a chiseled nose and a sharp jawline. His blue eyes twinkled and he sent you a disarmingly bright smile.

“Do you need help?”

“My foot is stuck…” you whispered, without looking away from him.

“Let me help you.”

The handsome stranger climbed out of his window and advanced towards you, and proceeded to twist your ankle delicately until you were free once again.

“Thank you.” you mentioned, “My cat just likes coming here, so I had to get her.”

“Cats are great.” he smiled, almost making you swoon.

However, when you tried to put your foot back on the ground, your ankle shot you tingles of pain, making you collapse and fall down, your hand shot up and grabbed the first thing you could, and brought down his towel with you, exposing his naked body completely.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” you covered your eyes as your neighbor tried to cover himself with his hands.

“It’s alright, you can look.” he told you once the towel was safely secured around his hips, “Here, I’ll take you to my apartment so I can have a look at your ankle.”

The man lifted you with apparent ease, and carried you and your cat back to his apartment, entering through the open window. Once inside, he placed you on a couch and worked with efficiency and quickness as he gathered everything he needed and bandaged your left foot.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” you introduced yourself with embarrassment, “I live next door.”

“James.” he grinned, “I just moved in.”

“So you’re a doctor…”

“Orthopedic surgeon.” his deep voice showed pride, “I do a lot of leg and hip stuff, but I also get the occasional foot. You just had a mild sprain, you should be just fine with this.”

You sighed, blinking rapidly to make sure you weren’t imagining the seemingly perfect man before you, “Thank you. I must be pretty lucky you were the one that moved in here.”

“I’m here whenever you need me.” he offered, and handed you a small business card, “I put my home number and cellphone on the back, in case you need it. If your ankle starts giving you any problems, just give me a call.”

Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness, “Thank you.”

Part 3

Tags: @hunters-from-stark-tower, @wonderlandforthemisfits, @buckysberrie, @sebbytrash, @buckytrashbin, @lynzplusg

#stark tower's movie challenge #clint barton x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fic #au

[horrorinreallife]

Matilda found herself living in a small Midwestern town, just barely scraping by, after a failed attempt at running a craft, organic, gluten-free, multigrain cracker home delivery service. She had mistakenly built her business model with international distribution in mind but without the preservatives found in non-gluten-free and non-organic multigrain crackers, her product became stale prior to arriving at a few of her larger warehouse facilities in Taiwan.

“It’s fine, Matilda! Those people eat dog over there anyway. Have you even tried our Salsa Cheddar Snapbacks the R&D kitchen came up with last week? Literally no difference in taste, stale or not!”

Those were some of the last words of advice she heard from her business partner before he sold his shares in her company and ran off to Albuquerque to start a pop punk band with his buddies from college.

After distribution started dwindling and stock value plummeted, she was forced to liquidate assets to pay off debts and moved to a studio apartment to try to find a job and get back on her feet. She had done a lot of research on different communities and chose the small Midwestern town that she did because numerous reports had projected an influx of business, industry, and population growth to be able to support plenty of potential job opportunities and, maybe eventually, a social life again.

She attended networking events and applied for a number of things in between part time jobs but wasn’t getting many interviews for anything substantial, long-term. She started to really begin to rethink her plan.

“I should have gone to a larger city. This was a big risk. I am going to get down to nothing and be stranded! Should I start another business? No! I’m not going to go through that again!”

One day she got a call from one of the gentlemen she had met at the last networking event she attended.

“Matilda! Darling! It was such a pleasure meeting you last week! I am very, very impressed with your prior experience and I feel like you’d make an invaluable addition to our team.”

“Thank you so very much! I’m extremely greatful for the opportunity. I truly apologize. Could you give me just a quick refresher on the industry in which I’d be working and also, what I should expect during the interview process?”

“Oh honey, you’re already hired.”

“Excuse me, what?”

“Welcome aboard! You will be receiving your new hire documents in the mail on Monday. FedEx. Do not hesitate to reach out with questions! I’ll see you on Thursday night for our first event.”

“I’m sorry but what event are you referri...”

*dial tone*

At this point she really didn’t have any other option, so she patiently waited for Monday to arrive so she could see what the actual fuck was going to be in the FedEx package.

Monday came and went and by 6:45pm she metaphorically kicked herself square in the cunt bone for having wasted a day waiting around for something so intangible. Just as she was about to pick up the phone to order Papa John’s she was startled by a knock at the door.

“I am so sorry, your package fell between my seat and the center console! I’m so glad I just so happened to glance down and see this before heading back to the warehouse.” said the young FedEx delivery driver with a sly smile and a wink.

“THANK YOU!” Matilda screamed, quickly signing for the package and slamming the door in his face.

She ripped open the package and pulled out the stack of documents:

WELCOME TO FUN INDUSTRIES.

YOU ARE A VALUED MEMBER OF THIS TEAM.

SEE ENCLOSED FOR DETAILS ON YOUR ASSIGNMENT THIS WEEK.

DON’T FORGET.

HAVE FUN!

She rifled through the papers just long enough to see that she was to attend a wine tasting at an art gallery opening in the Letterbox District that Thursday for the record release show of an electronic foursome named Jezoos Chemosynthesis and the Rainbow Unicorn Trout out of Rehoboth Beach, DE.

“This is so cool!”

The week passed quickly and Thursday arrived before she even realized. She decked herself out in her tightest, most tapered-leg, ankle-length, dark washed jeans, and a color-coordinating layering of two flannels over a concert tee and stopped briefly to check herself out in the mirror before heading to her first assignment.

“I look good and I am going to make this new job my bitch.”

When she arrived she realized she’d perhaps misjudged her outfit. Also, she forgot the packet of papers with the instructions in her haste to get to her first day on the job. Who was she even supposed to be looking for and where did she check in.

“Maybe my name is on the list.” she thought to herself.

She walked up to the door man.

“Hi! I’m here with Fun Industries. Do you happen to have my name, Matilda Greer, on the list?”

“I have it right here. The cover is $15.32 for you, instead of the regular $35.”

“Um, ok...”

She paid and entered the club. The sounds of what can only be described as someone overturning a set of dishes, like the cute coordinating sets you find at WalMart for a fairly decent deal, and letting them tumble out of thier box from a great height and smash onto a tiled floor repeatedly filled the air.

Great base line though.

She made her way to the bar. In her FedEx package she had been given two drink vouchers. No goddamn way she was going to forget to bring those!

As she waited for her Pabst Blue Ribbon a man dressed in all black with almost-a-Hitler mustache leaned into her.

“Matilda?”

“Oh! Hi! Um... who are you?”

“Well, my name is Eamis, but you can call me ‘Bozz’.” he replied with a chuckle.

“Oh, um, ok. Cool. So... uh...”

“You May be wondering what your job duties entail, yeah?”

“Kinda.”

“Just. Have. Fun.”

“Excuse me, what?”

“Your job is to have fun.”

“That’s it? This is awesome!”

“All the time.”

“Wait, what?”

“You need to be having constant fun and don’t let up because I am watching.”

Matilda started to feel a slight twinge of discomfort. She couldn’t tell if this gentleman was joking or not. However, as a prior entrepreneur she was trained and accustomed to ‘living outside her comfort zone’ so things were probably just fine. Besides. Fun... well, it’s fun!

“And if you stop having fun, for more than 3 minutes consecutively, I will kill you. Toodleooooooooo!”

The man almost seemed to float on his heels as he disappeared into the crowd.

WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO POOR MATILDA!? WILL SHE GET A W9 OR WILL SHE HAVE CONTINUOUS FUN OR WILL SHE BE BRUTALLY MURDERED?!

STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT BLOG POST WHERE I WILL CONTINUE THIS STORY!

JUST KIDDING I AM GOING TO TRASH THIS BECAUSE NO ONE READS THIS NOR GIVES ANY FEEDBACK WHATSOEVER SO IT LITERALLY DOES NOT MATTER!

HOPE MATILDA FIGURES IT OUT THOUGH! I’M SURE SHE WILL BE JUST FINE!