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chelsfic · 4 years

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The Hot List, in which the NYC Familiar Discord Ranks their Masters - Nandor x Guillermo Fanfic (one-shot, crack!)

Summary: The familiars of New York City use Discord to connect and blow off steam...and also to rank their masters’ hotness. Nandor discovers this impertinence and throws an internet fit.

Tags: Crack with a touch of angst

A/N: I don’t know.

---

NYC Familiar Chat #thirsty

Celeste-is-Best: nngh, have you guys seen Mr. 50ss’s’s’ss instagram story????

Celeste-is-Best: He’s so pretty! it’s like turn me, already!

Imurdad | colby: I know, right? I can’t believe he’s only 7 on the hot list…

[Gigi the great and sam teh pretty like this]

Gigi the great: Don’t forget to vote on this month’s poll!!

Best Hair!

We’re the ones who make them look pretty--but who’s the prettiest one of all? This month we’re voting on the NYC vampire with the best hair. Cast your vote!

A. Simon the Devious

B. Nandor the Relentless

C. Tilda

D. Evan

E. Houston

F. Nancy the Relentless

---

Guillermo locked his phone with a little smile. If he could he’d vote a hundred times for Nandor’s hair. It was unlikely that his master would win against the likes of Evan, Tilda and Nancy. He’d thrown Simon on there as a joke and was kind of horrified by how many familiars seemed to be into the limp mullet look. To each their own, he guessed.

On that note, it was almost nightfall and Nandor’s hair wasn’t going to brush itself. Guillermo made his way into the crypt, lighting candles and gathering the soft brush, comb, detangler spray and hair oils. Nandor was what he lovingly referred to as “high maintenance.” He was also surprisingly pitiful for a 750-year old warlord. It took Guillermo ages every night to carefully tease out and brush the knots from his hair without hurting him. It should’ve been annoying after so many years, but the chore remained one of the highlights of Guillermo’s day.

For one thing, he got to touch his master without being scolded or hissed at. So that was nice. For another thing, Nandor’s hair was as soft as his personality was prickly. Guillermo would often drag out the task, running his fingers through the silky strands and lightly touching Nandor’s jaw to get him to tilt his head this way or that.

He was doing just that, as well as admiring the expanse of cream and bronze skin revealed by the open collar of Nandor’s loose shirt, when the vampire opened his mouth.

“Guillermooo...Did you happen to get any virgins for tonight?”

Guillermo’s fingers momentarily tightened around a hank of his master’s hair. He imagined giving it a sharp tug. He forced himself to loosen his grip and replied, “No, master, I’m sorry. Virgins are getting pretty thin on the ground lately. I managed to pick up a couple people from a bible study class, though. They should taste pretty innocent, right?”

Nandor made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat before answering, “You’d be surprised.”

---

NYC Familiar Chat #the-struggle

Gigi the great: I know we all jealously guard our sources, but I’ve been in a dry spell for a few weeks and my master is going to lose it and drink me one of these nights. Anyone have any new leads on virgins in the area?

Gigi the great: I’ve tried the usual stuff...LARPers, church socials, chastity clubs (surprisingly unhelpful…). I’m kinda desperate!

Direct Messages

Celeste-is-Best: only because you had my back last month when I ran out of burial sites…

Gigi the great: OMG! Celeste, please!! 🙏 🥺

Celeste-is-Best: there’s a magic the gathering tournament in brighton heights this weekend...😈

Gigi the great: You are like the virgin whisperer, Celeste. Thank you!

Celeste-is-Best: np

Celeste-is-Best: hey! Are you posting the poll results soon? I voted for Tilda--don’t tell Houston!! LOL

#main

Gigi the great: The results are in! The vampire with the best hair in NYC is……..EVAN!

Check out the Google Form for the full results...

docs.google.com...best_hair

Evan (26%)

Tilda (22%)

Nancy the Relentless (17%)

Simon the Devious (16%)

Nandor the Relentless (13%)

Houston (6%)

---

“What are you typing over there on your intelligent phone?”

Guillermo hurriedly tucked his phone away and looked up to find his master mopping blood from his mouth with a lace-trimmed handkerchief. They were in an alleyway a few buildings down from the comic shop. The limp body of Nandor’s victim lay discarded on the dirty ground. Guillermo smiled affectionately at Nandor trying and failing to clean himself. He took the hanky from him and set about doing the job himself. The snow white fabric was quickly drenched in dark red arterial blood.

“I was just, um...checking on another potential virgin source,” he lied.

The familiar Discord was strictly secret. If any of their masters ever found it and saw their human servants’ uncensored discussions... The thought sent a panicked tremor down Guillermo’s spine and he thought--for the thousandth time--that he should delete the app and not look back. But the idea of continuing with this emotionally draining, thankless job without his little support system was just as disturbing. Besides, the server had really come through for him tonight.

“Well done, Guillermo!” Nandor praised him and Guillermo’s heart swelled pathetically. A small, shameful part of him imagined Nandor patting him on the head and he didn’t hate it. “That was the most delicious virgin I’ve had in months!”

“Thank you, master,” Guillermo smiled sweetly, his cheeks dimpling. Nandor watched him for a long moment and he could swear he saw his master’s eyes linger on his mouth. He shut that thought down before it could bloom into a hope that was only doomed for disappointment.

“Well…I’ll see you back at the house.” Nandor vanished before his eyes, taking his bat form and darting out of the alley with a high-pitched squeak and a furious flap of his leathery wings.

Guillermo sighed, looked at the broken body and wondered if he’d be able to fit his car down the narrow alley or if he’d have to drag the corpse to the opening. He fished out his keys and started the short walk back to his parking spot. All the while thinking, with distracted horror, Simon the Devious beat out Nandor for best hair?!? Really?

---

Direct Messages

Gigi the great: Hey, thanks! The Magic tournament was a hit!

Celeste-is-Best: i do live to serve…

Gigi the great: Har har.

#bitch-session

mish-bish: Ugh!!! Pretty sure my asshole master is hypnotizing me again.

call-me-karen: That’s rough, Misha! You wanna talk about it? My master lets me take the car whenever I want. I can come pick you up…

mish-bish: Yeah, like...I definitely have a huge black hole in my memories from last night. Fuck.

mish-bish: Oh, that’s ok Karen. Thanks.

Gigi the great: Hey @mish-bish. Sorry you’re having a hard time. If you feel up to it, check out the #support channel. A lot of other familiars have gone through this and talked about it there. Sometimes it helps to hear how others cope!

---

“Guillermo! Guillermoooo!”

Nandor’s panicked bellow reached him all the way in the basement where he was checking his lye supply. Guillermo huffed it up the stairs and raced into the fancy room where he found his master staring aghast at his laptop.

“Wh-what is it, master?” he asked, bent over and catching his breath.

“Someone named...Rap4Unlyfe has sent me a fake news!” Nandor wailed, gesturing to the laptop as if the device was personally responsible.

Guillermo suppressed an eyeroll and walked over to sit beside his master. He watched in dismay as Nandor scooched farther down the couch but he tried not to let it sting too much.

The browser was open to Nandor’s Hotmail account. He leaned forward to read the open message, unsure what to expect. The blood drained from his face as he read.

from: [email protected]

cc: [email protected]; [email protected]; [email protected] ...

subject: rofl bahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahah

yooooooooooooooooOO!

Has ne1 else seen there familiars on this site??? I hypnotized mine last nite to give me his phone password and...👀

Mierda. There were two screenshots attached. One was the survey results page from the “best hair” poll. The other was an excerpt from the chat, specifically Guillermo posting the winner of the poll and the link to the results.

Guillermo’s face fell into an adorably distressed frown. He darted a glance at Nandor but the vampire just looked confused. It wasn’t clear if he yet suspected that his own familiar might be “Gigi the great.”

“Huh…” Guillermo leaned back and smoothed his expression into one of untroubled amusement. “You’re right, looks like fake news. You should probably just ignore it.”

Nandor punched his fist into his thigh and snapped, “But Guillermo! I cannot let this go unanswered! This...this...ludicrous insult! Imagine...me losing a hair contest. Everyone knows I have the most beautiful hair!”

Guillermo blushed magnificently, “Of course, master! This is just...a prank. Someone playing a mean trick on you. You shouldn’t give them the satisfaction--”

The laptop chimed. Guillermo dove to prevent Nandor from reaching it but the vampire simply slapped him away with a petulant whine, “Give me that! Fucking guy…”

Nandor’s lips curled into a snarl as his eyes scanned over the screen.

“Oh, no! Now they are making a mockery of me on the ether net!”

from: [email protected]

cc: [email protected]; [email protected]; [email protected]…

subject: RE: rofl bahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahah

Oh! That is too delicious! Suck it, Houston and Nandor!

It gets even better. Have you seen this, yet?

vamp_hot_list.doc

“Guillermo, what is a hot list?” Nandor asked with a worried frown, clicking on the attachment.

“No, master! Don’t--”

It was too late. He watched as his master’s eyes lit with understanding and then intrigue and finally outrage.

“29?! I am number 29 on your dirty hot vampire list!? What is the meaning of this?” Nandor bristled like an angry porcupine, his eyes shooting metaphorical quills into Guillermo’s soft flesh.

“It’s not my list, master!” he insisted and then, guiltily, “Not only mine…”

“Guillermo!” Nandor gasped, his eyes returning to the screen for a moment before pinning him with outraged accusation. “So, it is you!? You are...Gigi the great? Well, I do not think you are so great, little guy! In fact I think you’re pretty un-great right now! And disrespectful!”

Guillermo sank into the couch cushions, melting under his master’s ire and replying miserably, “It’s not as bad as it looks!”

Nandor turned back to the screen and began reading off names from the top of the list, “Viago! Nancy the Relentless! Evan! I suppose these are all vampires you’ve been dreaming of doing the hanky panky with! Putting them on the top of your list above your own master! That’s two demerits, Guillermo!”

“What!? No! Master, I didn’t make the list! We vote on it! Everyone gets a say. If I made the list of course you’d be at the top--”

Guillermo snapped his mouth shut. His face was on fire and he felt like crying. Nandor must have some inkling of his crush, right? After ten years of service? This couldn’t really be the life-ending mortification that it felt like. He waited, wide-eyed, for his master’s reaction. Nandor stared at him, his huge, dark eyes filled with shock and anger. After a long minute he turned back to the laptop, waving a hand dismissively in Guillermo’s face.

“Go to your room now, Guillermo! I need to think of how to punish this impertinence!”

Guillermo stood, barely holding in humiliated tears. He gestured to the device in Nandor’s lap, “My laptop…”

Nandor held it out of Guillermo’s reach and hissed, “No! Vampire only computer time, Guillermo!”

Guillermo left, trudging out of the room with a sinking feeling in his stomach as the sound of Nandor’s flop-wristed typing followed him out the door.

---

#main

Gigi the great: Is everyone okay?

call-me-karen: not fukcing great!

Imurdad | colby: Seriously! WTF!!?

Gigi the great is typing…

Guillermo lay on his little cot with the crocheted blanket his amá made for him pulled up to his chin. Tears streaked down his cheeks and the phone’s glare reflected in his glasses. He thought back to every off handed complaint, every silly photo turned into a “master-shaming” meme, every confession, every joke. All of them laid bare to the world. The Discord server started out as goofy, harmless fun. The hot list was the perfect embodiment of that. But it became so much more. Being a familiar could be lonely. You were isolated from other humans and surrounded by cold, uncaring monsters all the time. Guillermo loved Nandor. Everyone knew this...there were even memes about it on the server! But sometimes his master’s aloofness got to be too much and he needed to reach out to other humans who understood him!

He threw his phone down onto the mattress, angrily pawing at his teary eyes and wondering if this was it. Not just the end of NYC Familiar Chat, but the end of Guillermo the Great, his long-dreamed-of vampire alias. There was no way Nandor would keep him as a familiar after this…

---

Direct Messages

Celeste-is-Best: OMG! Guillermo, have you seen this?

Celeste-is-Best: http://familiar-hot-list.colinrobinson.net

Celeste-is-Best: hey, if this is Nandor’s big revenge scheme I think you’re going to be ok

Celeste-is-Best: we miss you!

---

Guillermo heard his master calling him and cringed. It had been a week since the hot list incident and Nandor had spent every waking moment making little jabs at his familiar and grousing about how he’d been betrayed on the internet. But to Guillermo’s surprisingly intense relief, he hadn’t been fired. After ten years of disappointment and hopeless pining, Guillermo half-expected to welcome the prospect of finally being put out of his misery, so to speak. He was kind of shocked, therefore, to feel happiness and gratitude that his master had decided to keep him around, even if only as a verbal punching bag.

He found Nandor in the library, smugly brandishing the purloined laptop.

“Come have a look at your punishment, Guillermo,” Nandor patted the couch beside him. “This is what happens when you disrespect vampires on the ether net.”

Guillermo swallowed the lump in his throat and collapsed beside Nandor feeling like a man condemned. Their thighs pressed together but for once Nandor didn’t move away. He shoved the laptop at Guillermo and handed him a yellow sticky note with Colin Robinson’s handwriting on it.

“Colin Robinson has assisted in creating a webpage for your disgrace. We have done our own hot list! A familiar hot list. All of the New York vampires voted. So, now you can see how not nice it feels to have your hotness besmirched for all the world to see.”

Guillermo typed in the URL and blinked as the neon green background scorched his retinas. The page was a hideous callback to the internet of the late 1990s right down to the hit counter at the bottom. There was a border of pixelated dancing Draculas surrounding bright orange text.

NYC Familiar Hotness Ranking

1. Guillermo (Nandor the Relentless) - 19%

Guillermo looked at the screen, then over at Nandor, then back to the screen again.

“Master? Have you looked at the results yet?”

Nandor’s brow knit with confusion, “No, why? What does it say?”

He grabbed the laptop and squinted against the garish colors. Guillermo watched Nandor’s face carefully as he read the results. He looked surprised and almost...pleased at first, before giving in to his patented aggravation.

“Fucking Colin Robinson!”

---

New NYC Familiars Group! #welcome

Imurdad | colby: Hey @everyone! Welcome to the new Discord server. Guillermo has stepped down as a mod but he’ll still be around. We don’t have a perfect solution for the security problems we had with the last server. We’re asking everyone to be vigilant about hypnosis and if you feel like you’re losing time, please be sure to secure your phones/computers away from your masters….

---

to: [email protected]

from: [email protected]

subject: Something you might want to see…

Hey Nandoorman! How’s it hangin’?

Listen, I’m sorry that your revenge didn’t go as planned. I noticed you’ve been a little short with Gizmo ever since this whole thing started. As someone who cares about my roomie, I want to advise you to knock it the hell off. Also, I don’t relish the thought of returning to the days before Gizmo came along. Do you even remember what the house used to look like? Pools of blood everywhere. Dead bodies. Melted candles all over the place...

I digress… I managed to snag this screenshot from Count Rapula. I think you may find it interesting.

Your pal,

Colin Robinson

discord_gizmo.jpg

#confessions

Gigithegreat: Hey guys. This isn’t easy for me to share but I know I’m not the only one who’s dealt with this and if I can help one of you feel less alone then I’ll be glad. As most of you know, I recently “celebrated” my 10th anniversary as Nandor’s familiar. I was convinced, absolutely convinced, that my master was going to make me into a vampire. Well, once again it didn’t happen. He made me this weird portrait out of glitter instead. And the thing is...like, I should leave, right? He’s never going to turn me and that’s the basis for our whole arrangement. I serve him faithfully, he turns me into a vampire. It’s simple, right? So why am I still here? Why am I still burying bodies for him and making human sacrifices? Dressing and feeding him? Treating him like he’s some kind of god and not an ancient cranky baby? It’s because I’m in love with him. Hopelessly, stupidly, self-destructively in love with my vampire master who thinks of me as nothing more than a really well-trained poodle who can talk. Why? WHY? Because he makes me laugh. Because he’s fiercely protective of his vampire family and (sometimes) that includes me. Because when we’re alone he can be so adorably, painfully vulnerable and it feels like a privilege that I get to witness that side of him. Because he does ridiculously stupid but considerate things like spending hours making me a glitter portrait. When he’s happy with me I feel like I could float and when he’s disappointed I feel like being swallowed up by a sinkhole. And, yeah, he’s also man-of-my-dreams outrageously hot and I cannot believe you cretins have him ranked #29 on the hot list. It’s a crime.

Gigithegreat: So, yeah. That’s why I stay. I’m no longer hoping for a bite that will never happen. Now it’s a kiss, a hug, a touch, a look. Anything he’s willing to give me I’ll gladly hoard in my little closet-room along with my glitter portrait. Because I’m pathetic. That’s it. That’s the confession.

Imurdad | colby: Brave words, Guillermo. Hang in there, friend.

blood_princess: this is a mood

sam teh pretty: Sending you healing head scritches ❤️

Celeste-is-Best: look, i think i speak for us all when i say we need to see this glitter portrait!!!

[You’re Viewing Older Messages … Jump To Present? ￬]

---

Nandor looked uncharacteristically thoughtful while Guillermo readied him for sleep. The familiar guessed he was still angry that his little revenge plot had backfired. He couldn’t help but feel a little smug about his position as the hottest NYC familiar. Even if he was pretty sure it was mostly due to the other vampires messing with Nandor. Guillermo couldn’t really enjoy his victory, though, not with Nandor’s feelings of betrayal still weighing on his heart.

Nandor’s face was a stoic mask as Guillermo helped him undress. He cooperated listlessly, picking up his feet for Guillermo to remove his heavy boots, lifting his arms up over his head as Guillermo took off his brocade tunic. Finally, he placed his giant hand in Guillermo’s soft, small one and stepped up into his coffin. Guillermo stood by the side of the coffin as he always did, watching over Nandor with affection choking his throat. Nandor smoothed his hair down and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Sweet dreams, master,” Guillermo whispered, leaning across him to catch the lid of the coffin.

“Wait, Guillermo,” Nandor spoke without looking at him, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I wish to say something to you.”

Guillermo’s heart sank in his chest. Oh no...his stupid middle schooler revenge didn’t work and now he’s going to send me away… Tears pricked his eyes and he choked, “C-can’t it wait until tomorrow, master?”

“No. I must say this now,” Nandor responded, oblivious to his familiar’s internal drama. “I want to say to you that--and I think I’m being extremely gracious and lenient here--it is fine for you to have your little, pathetic familiar group on the dark internet.”

“O-oh,” Guillermo quickly swiped the tears from his eyes, “thank you, master…”

“But no more mee-mees, Guillermo! Master-shaming...very disrespectful!”

“Of course!” Guillermo laughed, delirious with relief.

Nandor looked up at him with a final warning glance before softening, “Alright, then. As long as we are clear on that…”

There was a long beat of silence during which Guillermo found himself locked inside his master’s gaze. Nandor’s eyes were like pools of rich, melted chocolate. Guillermo imagined himself as the German kid from Willy Wonka and for a second he was in danger of breaking down into giggles. But then his master spoke in that soft, uncertain tone he only used when they were alone and he was feeling fragile.

“Guillermo...did you really vote for me to be the number one hottest vampire?” Nandor toyed with the buttons on his shirt and looked up at his familiar with a shy, open expression.

Guillermo’s cheeks burned and he wanted to laugh and hide and kiss his master on the mouth all at once.

“Yes, master, I did. You’re…” he cleared his throat and tightened his grip on the lip of the coffin, “so handsome, master. So beautiful...”

He watched his master’s chest expand with pride and his lips twitch into a haughty smirk.

“That’s true, Guillermo. Good job for noticing,” Nandor praised him in a voice that was a little too loud. It rang with a false sense of self-assurance. After a few seconds he went on in a quieter tone, “Do you know, I--this is very silly, Guillermo, you mustn't tell anyone this--I voted for you, too. As the hottest familiar…”

Guillermo’s stomach did a little swoop and his lips curved into a blinding smile. His dumb, beautiful master thought he was attractive? Guillermo tried to reel himself in; he tried to remind himself that Nandor probably only voted for him to boost his own reputation. But--wait?--hadn’t the list been meant as a revenge against Guillermo? God, what a handsome idiot.

“Thank you, master,” Guillermo gushed and now he was certain that Nandor’s eyes strayed too long on his smiling lips and red, dimpled cheeks.

“Alright then!” Nandor pulled the emergency break on the moment. “Time for my evil slumber. Night night, Guillermo!”

And in a slow motion moment that would feature in Guillermo’s dreams that night, Nandor reached up and put his hand over his. Nandor’s cool, smooth palm rubbed over the back of Guillermo’s warm hand and his fingers squeezed slightly. The breath rushed from Guillermo’s lungs and he could only squeak in reply, shutting his master into his coffin and moving away with a dazed smile on his face.

A muffled sound came from the coffin just as Guillermo reached the door to the crypt.

“...And I don’t think of you as a poodle…”

“What was that, master?” Guillermo called.

“Nothing, Guillermo!”

Guillermo shuffled off to his little room feeling like he was carrying a happy little flame inside his chest. For once he gave himself permission to hope without fearing disappointment.

---

New NYC Familiars Group! #thirsty

Celest-is-Best: SORRY NOT SORRY!!!! Simon can get it…

blood_princess: ummmm thirst after your own master, Celeste. Oops sorry she’s 12.

mish-bish: Lmaooo. Gross Celeste!

Celeste-is-Best: listen.

Celeste-is-Best: ...i got nothin. I want his evil dick.

…

Gigi the great: Please look respectfully at this photo I snuck of my master the other night. Do I really need to explain myself further???

Celeste-is-Best: that’s it. guillermo, ask nandor if he needs another familiar. my body is ready!

Gigi the great: Back off, bitch!!!!

Gigi the great: jk love u

Gigi the great: but srsly back off

#master-shaming

mish-bish: submitted without comment

[Imurdad | colby, Gigi the great, Sam teh Cat, and 6 others like this]

...

Gigi the great: 🙄🙄🙄

Gigi the great: I hate him I love him

#main

black-peterrr: ohohoho, has anyone talked to Guillermo lately…..?

black-peterrr: a little raven told me he and Nandor were seen HOLDING HANDS in the park the other night…

call-me-karen: WHATTTTTTTT

Celeste-is-Best: @Gigi the great, CONFIRM OR DENY!! GIIIIIGIIII!

Gigi the great: ……...I don’t kiss and tell 😉

Imurdad | colby pinned a post

Imurdad | colby: This is momentous.

#memes

Gigi the great: hot take…

Imurdad | colby: bahahaha, okay…

Imurdad | colby:

Gigi the great: But have you considered…

Imurdad | colby: lol compelling

Call-me-karen: I mean…..👀

Celeste-is-Best: Ha...ha...ha…*sob*

Direct Messages

Celeste-is-Best: Gigi! we miss you! ur never online lately...

Celeste-is-Best: too busy getting that ottoman empire dick, huhhh??

Gigi the great: OMG Celeste! You’re out of control!

Celeste-is-Best: that wasn’t a denial…

#main

Gigi the great: Hey guys...sorry I haven’t been active lately

Gigi the great: Quick update though....

GIgi the great:

blood_princess: OSDFJweoiflkdfaf omgggggg gggggiiiiiiigiigigig!!!!!!

Jameson: Holy shit, man. Congrats.

Celeste-is-Best: GuillerrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmooooooOooooO!O my baby! you look amazing!

call-me-karen: DO YOU NEED A FAMILIAR!!?!?!?!?

Celeste-is-Best: jesus, karen lol

blood_princess: my master is having an orgy right now. I just locked myself in the bathroom--I’M FREAKING OUT!! What is it like? IS that blood on your collar??? OMG how was ur first feeding?

Imurdad | colby: FAMILIARS ONLY, GUILLERMO!!

Imurdad | colby: I’m kidding. OMG I’m so happy for you! (And burning with jealous rage)

Celeste-is-Best: look how fucking happy Nandor is

Celeste-is-Best: i’ve been shipping you two from the beginning, Gigi!

Celeste-is-Best: …..hope you’re not going to forget who helped you out with those virgins last month…

---

“Guillermo!” Nandor’s voice was half whine, half growl. “It’s very difficult to sleep with that light filling the coffin! What are you doing anyway?”

The screen illuminated Guillermo’s grin as he answered, “Just posted that selfie we took to the familiar chat. They’re freaking out.”

Nandor turned onto his side, nuzzling his face into Guillermo’s neck and tickling him with his beard, “That’s nice. Sleepy time now, Guillermo.”

“Yes, master,” Guillermo breathed and Nandor purred low in his chest. Some things had changed since becoming a vampire and others had stayed the same. Calling Nandor “master” had taken on a new, thrilling subtext.

Nandor’s arms snaked around Guillermo, tugging the smaller vampire into his chest. He let out a contented sigh and his body went still as he began to fall asleep.

“I guess I should probably leave the group,” Guillermo yawned--force of habit. “Since I’m not a familiar anymore.”

Nandor wrenched himself from sleep with the power of his own petulance, “Hey! What do you mean ‘not a familiar anymore’? Just because a guy gives his boyfriend the gift of eternal life he thinks he can quit being his familiar!? Who’s going to brush my hair?! ‘Not a familiar anymore’...fucking guy…”

#nandor x guillermo #guillermo x nandor #nandermo #wwdits #wwdits fanfic #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz

39 notes · View notes

gettingrichfromhome · 3 years

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One of the most popular ways to market an affiliate product is by creating a website, and writing a sales page that pitches the virtues of the product. To do this, you are going to want your own domain, which you can get from any number of domain name services like Godaddy.com or Namecheap.com.

You are going to be reviewing the product, so the website name should reflect that. The reason for this is simply that reviews generate more sales than in your face sales pages. A website name like “fatlossproducts” or “weightlossproductreview” would be good.

Then you are going to pick a hosting company, like Bluehost, so that you can host your website. If you know how to design your own website, that is great — you can save a lot of money that way.

How Will People Find Your Site?

Creating a website with your affiliate review page on it is all well and good, but how will people find your site? There are several different ways to drive traffic to your site. One common method is by using Google adwords. Now, the proper use of Google Adwords would fill another ebook entirely, so we are just going to touch on it briefly here. It’s not extremely difficult to learn, but it does take some practice and trial and error before you get it right.

When you use Google Adwords, you create an adwords campaign and are charged every time someone clicks on one of your ads.

The best way to learn about Google Adwords is from the source; go to www.google.com/adwords and visit their learning center. It is worth spending a day or two going through their many adwords lessons, to learn how to set your campaign up correctly.

Here is one tip that will be useful to you as an affiliate: when you create a review page, do not just make it a one page website. Google will charge you more for each keyword phrase that you bid on if they perceive that your website is low quality. And they perceive one page websites as low quality. So what you want to do is create maybe five or six other pages and link to them. Just put the links in an unobtrusive place where they will not distract your visitors from your sales page message.

Conclusion

Many people have quit their jobs to become full time internet marketers as affiliates.

If you follow the methods in this Blog you’ll make your first $100 online. The techniques and processes I’ve just explained will feel weird and alien the first time you do things. You’ll get some things wrong and have to start again and all in all it’ll be a steep learning curve.

Check my blog on : https://ricky-kartiyanta.medium.com/

#passive income #affilaite marketing #affiliate #getting rich #marketing #easy money #work from home

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ddaengyoonmin · 5 years

Text

Chapter one

Pairing: Jungkook x reader, eventual Ot7 x reader in later chapters

Genre: Angst, fluff, uhh maybe smut eventually??

Theme: Based kinda on sword art online a lot of similar ideas and themes kinda combining the idea of them trapped in the game, but the world is closer to ALFheim online

Word count: 2.1k+

Warnings: Swearing?..I swear a lot it can’t be contained. Giant Bees?? Not too much to warn about for this chapter but future chapters might get crazy

*check my master list for the prologue, I suggest reading it first*

Next -> Chapter 2

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A bright light shone in from a missing blind. One of your bothersome, but too cute to be mad at cats must’ve broken it, you made a mental note to fix that later. It woke you up earlier than usual for a Friday, probably not a bad thing, you had a big day ahead of you. Working from home had its advantages such as being able to create your own schedule.

You had set the day aside to mentally prepare for and then try out your dreaded birthday gift you had received just the day before.

The clock read 8:00 am. You sighed as you pulled yourself out of bed, startling the young calico cat who had been sleeping on your stomach throughout the night. “Sorry velvet” you mumble sleepily. Though she should be used to the rude awakenings by now, given that you on the other hand had not gotten used to having a cuddly cat and always seemed to accidentally throw her off your lap in the mornings. Your other cat Tiger always kept to herself and usually slept on the top of her cat tree or on a top shelf in one of your closets.

Last year when you bought your new apartment you had marveled at the spaciousness of the classy two bedroom layout. You debated on turning that second bedroom into a room for Tiger to have all to herself, but decided that would only feed into your family’s idea you were becoming a crazy cat lady hermit. Instead it became your office, and today it was the room you decided you would try out the full dive gaming experience headset in. You had a comfortable black leather office chair that you usually spent most of your days in while you worked on your designs. You figured that would be fine to recline in while you went into the game.

After getting yourself a filling breakfast you fed Velvet and Tiger a little extra, not knowing how long you’d be in the game. Part of you hoped that your mom would be satisfied if you just tried it for 30 minutes or so, then you could get back to the practical reality you preferred to live in. But you still wanted to be prepared in case the impossible happened and you actually enjoyed yourself.

You picked up the sleek looking packaging that held the headset and the game you had been given. You let out a sigh and looked over to your pets, “lets give this a shot huh?” you said, looking at them as if they could understand you.

When you arrived to your office you plopped down into your comfy chair and finally opened the packaging. The headset was shiny and heavy, looking similar to a motorcycle helmet. In the back by the base of the neck there was a long wire the same shade of silver as the rest of the headset. You pulled out the instructions from the box and skimmed it over.

“Internal battery, internal memory to store data, in game items, and achievements”

“Pre-programmed with Faerie Realm installed, no updates or installation required”

“To enter the game is simple, put on the headset and click the large button on the side of the headset and say the command ‘LINK START’”

You felt skeptical of this whole thing, but you reasoned that they wouldn’t sell it to the public if it was unsafe.

With one last see ya later to Tiger and Velvet you plugged in the headset and carefully placed it over your head. It was a snug fit and there were straps to secure it underneath your chin.

A small wave of nervousness ran over you, you took a few deep breaths and put your pointer finger to the side of the headset and held the button. Loud and enunciated so as not to mess this up somehow, you said the command…

“LINK START”

Almost instantly, like falling asleep suddenly, everything went dark. It only lasted a few seconds until you were standing in a bright, white, empty room with no doors or windows. You looked to your left and right in a slight panic, you felt like you could hear some music start to play.

Then, catching you off guard a giant holographic screen projected onto the wall in front of you.

“Welcome new player!” A chipper voice rang out from the direction of the screen “It’s time to chose your fairy race, and dive into the world of Faerie Realm! Point your hand straight out fingers spread out to the screen and swipe to the right to scroll through the choices, make a fist for 10 seconds at the screen on the page of the Fairy race you choose and you will move on to the next step!”

On the screen an example character popped and you giggled at it. It was an image of you, but not totally you. Your hair was longer than in real life and it was dyed a turquoise shade of blue, you were wearing a tight royal blue and white dress that was much shorter than anything you’d ever worn before.

You had to admit from a designers point of view, that it was pretty interesting how they’d managed to do that. The thing that really caught your eye was that coming from behind your back was a pair of beautiful shimmering turquoise wings matching the hair, they were slightly transparent and had a light blue glow coming off of them. The title under this character “Water Fairy”

You scrolled over the other choices shortly, five options of fairy races each with different styles, perks and nerdy sounding stats you didn’t even bother to read. You were mostly focused on the look, and none stood out as much as the first you had seen and you settle on the Water Fairy, holding out a fist to the screen as it instructed.

The next step you were prompted to complete was to choose a username. You decide on “Velvet Tiger” in honor of your bestfriends at home. Once you held out your fist again to declare that you were sure of your name, the room turned dark again. Next you felt like you were falling, falling falling, and the perky voice echoed around you “Have fun in Faerie Realm!!”

With a loud thud you felt yourself hit grass, strangely you felt no sort of pain from your fall, odd.

You picked yourself up from the ground and brushed the dirt off of what you now realized was the same blue dress from the screen. You pull your now extremely long hair in front of your face to see it was indeed also the hair you had seen on yourself in the preview. “Color me impressed” You chuckled aloud.

You started to look around to get a bearing on your surroundings. “Umm...what exactly am I supposed to do?” You spoke aloud again, not sure if you were hoping someone would answer or that some sort of screen would pop up at your question. But nothing happened.

You were alone in the middle of the most perfect flowering field you’d ever seen in your life, it was beautiful, cream colored daisies scattered all around you. It was sunny and bright and the temperature was perfect. You could feel a light breeze press on your cheek, you brought your hand up to your face. “Woah…” you muttered. It was crazy to think none of this was real.

A noise suddenly snapped you out of your state of awe. You cocked your head to the side slightly. It was a humming noise getting louder and louder by the second.

To your surprise and horror the objects in question made themselves visible. “What the fuck!!!” You scream, and immediately start to book it in the opposite direction.

BEES? But not just regular bees, a swarm of GIANT bees about the size of your cats were headed straight towards you. You found yourself screaming out a series of fucks and holy shits as you tried to outrun the swarm, they were catching up faster than you could run. ‘Thanks mom, this is real fun’, you thought.

You were about to get to a treeline that was up ahead when you tripped and fell flat on your face, you winced, not because it hurt, (you realized this game must not let you feel pain, which is nice), but because you were just embracing the fact that giant bees were about to be your ‘game over’ only 5 minutes into the game.

A loud POW sounded out right behind you and you covered your ears and buried your head into the ground. A crackling noise like fireworks followed. And then...a beautiful sound.

“You okay miss?” A silvery voice spoke from above you.

You uncovered your ears and lifted your head up from your embarrassing position you had assumed when you thought your demise in this game was upon you.

What you saw when your eyes met the figure standing over you took your breath away. You had to try and keep a straight face and contain your awe so as not to further embarrass yourself.

The man standing over you looked like an angel covered in black. He had on a tight fitting black shirt with a gray jacket that was styled fitting to the theme of this game draped over top, and tight black skinny jeans to go with. From behind his back you could see a pair of shimmering translucent wings similar in design to yours but the color was a charcoal black.

He extended a strong looking hand towards you, but you were still frozen in a combination of awe and embarrassment. He retracted his hand, chuckled, and ran his fingers through his pitch black hair. You scurried to get up on your own snapping out of your daze and standing eye to eye with the man you asume must’ve just saved your ass from the killer bees.

“Um, thank you” You nervously mumbled his way. His eyes were kind as he met your gaze with a smile. You had to force yourself to keep your eyes on his as they seemed compelled to trail over all of his body. “You’re welcome” His smile grew bigger than it previously was. “You’re lucky I got here when I did! They were gearing up for some power stings that definitely would’ve sent you to a black screen at your level”

“At….my level?” You said with confusion. “Yeah, I can see your level right there” he pointed just to the left of your face. You for the first time notice a small screen was there that had your username, level, health and an option for ‘menu’ listed. “Oh..” you managed an awkward smile. You realized you could see his too, ‘Kookie, level 10, full health’ listed on the screen hovering next to him.

“I’ve been here since 12am when it opened” he said sheepishly running his hand through his hair again. “Games are kinda my thing and when I heard this was coming out I wanted to get ahead right away...did you just get here or something?” He questioned.

“Yeah, literally just a few minutes ago” you laughed “That was about to be a real short run” you winced at the not too distant memory. “I...uh..games aren’t really my thing”

He smirked at your comment “You don’t say?” he teased. You stuck your tongue out at him, then immediately felt embarrassed. Not totally sure what came over you to do that to a total stranger, but hey, it is just a game and he started it right? So you shook off the awkward feeling and decided to just go with it. He laughed a full belly laugh at your action and shook his head “Ok, I like your style ma’m, so I’m gonna take pity on your and show you the ropes here” He spoke cockily.

“Oh? And what makes you think I need your help?” You tried to come back with, only eliciting further laughter from him. “You’re right,” he put his hands up in fake defeat “those bees were completely defenseless to your ‘duck and cover in the middle of a field’ fighting methods”

You pouted slightly at the mention of that embarrassing part of the incident that had just occurred you are hoping to just pretend didn’t happen.

“Fiiine” you sighed “I really don’t know what I’m doing here, but don't take me for some damsel in distress that's going to worship you as her hero now or anything like that” His eyebrows raised high taken aback by your bluntness. “Of course. I have no doubt you take care of yourself well in the real world, on first impressions you seem to be a strong, independent woman…I admire that in a lady” he assured in an honest and serious tone, but then He stopped and took a few steps closer to you standing so close it sent a shiver up your spine.

He leaned in to your ear, tone changing from his previous statement into a more smooth and sultry whisper “But this isn’t the real world...you’ve stepped into my world now.” He pulled away, a smirk on his face.

Your eyes widened. What have you gotten yourself into…

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#ot7 x reader #bts au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jhope x reader #jin x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #taehyung x reader #yoongi x reader

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theheartofpenelope · 5 years

Text

Simple Things : Chapter twelve

Excerpt - “I demand an appeal,” he muttered as he turned a corner. “You what?!” “Well, isn’t that what they do in your job?” Charlotte snapped her head back. Oh really? Trapped in a car. In traffic. No way for an escape. And he wants to plead his case. Fucking perfect. Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi @redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter @theoneanna @coppercorn-and-cauldron @turniptitaness @shadyskit @memoriesat30 @antyc67 @just-the-hiddles @sheris532 @marggot4 Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter twelve Wednessday - A chance encounter in London

1. See

Charlotte politely followed the HR consultant as he escorted her into the sleek elevator. He was a middle-aged man who oozed self-confidence, he knew very well what he wanted and what he was looking for. He’d been quite rigid and resolute all throughout the meeting.

She had been a little surprised an HR manager was attending said lengthy meeting, but then again this wàs the Royal London Hospital and this might be a very strict protocol they had to live up to. Breaking it was no doubt sacrilegious in these parts of the country.

The executive directors of the Royal London Hospital had very clearly outlined their ‘vision’ for the hospital to Charlotte, requesting her take on things and requesting a well-documented legal counsel. Truth-be-told Charlotte had expected she was called in for this kind of professional advice. However she was not expecting that her response would be met the way it was…

As she politely but determinedly rejected some of their desiderata, some glances were exchanged on the other side of the table, a few nods and gestures went back and forth which Charlotte found utterly distracting. Where was their protocol now, she mused.

But all became clear when the meeting somehow, very openly, turned into a job-offer towards her. A very generous offer was instantly extended to her; and a temporary assignment to work out a new policy on end-of-life decisions in the Royal London Hospital. The fucking Royal Hospital, her mind has yelled out, the state-of-the-art hospital, globally recognized as a leader in pre-hospital and trauma care. Home to London's Air Ambulance and one of the capital's leading trauma and emergency care centres and hyper-acute stroke centres. And they wanted her…

Charlotte would be allowed to compile a multidisciplinary corps and an assistant would be appointed to her. The extent of the offer dizzied her, yet thrilled her at the same time. It was a dream come true. Well, more than that really…

Things were moving fast for her now. At least that’s how it felt for her. She started with only a handful seminars, but was now well-booked for the rest of the summer, with the occasional interview here and there. And now there was this offer on the table she could not quite wrap her mind around yet.

As she stepped into the elevator the HR manager kindly exchanged some more small talk with her. He seemed like an amiable man. With a smile he tapped the elevator buttons and started their descent down to the lobby.

No, never in her wildest dreams had Charlotte expected her road to lead her where it had so far. And this at only 36 years of age. This was wild. This went beyond her imagination. And Charlotte half expected to be woken up by the shrill tone of her alarm clock. She discreetly pinched her nails into her arm - just in case - but this was no dream apparently. The shrill alarm clock didn't sound, but the elevator did chyme and a monotone female voice announced the occupants they had reached the fourth floor, then the second floor and so on.

People trickled in and out the elevator and before she was good and well aware Charlotte had reached the ground floor. She smiled in agreement with the HR consultant as he thanked her for her time, which she countered with a thank you for having me. Ping-pong, as you go...

"And we'll be looking forward to hearing your decision," the HR consultant concluded their conversation, "and maybe I shouldn't say this, but we àre passionately hoping you'll be willing to work with us."

In her head Charlotte positively screamed fucking Royal London!, but in reality she smiled her best diplomatic smile. And while she shook his hand - firmly -, she politely answered she was absolutely honoured and would think the offer through.

Upon exiting the elevator on a pure adrenaline high, Charlotte inattentively bumped against a hurried nearby stranger who jogged out of an opposing elevator. Shaking the momentary lapse of concentration out of her head, she turned to the other party with a slightly surprised frown which swiftly morphed into a recognition, and then an awkward yet lukewarm smile.

"Charlotte?"

"Tom?"

2. See closer

3 days after Fringe. 3 nights after that night. 3 days and 3 nights without a single word. In either direction.

Charlotte’s heart thudded loudly and nervously in her chest. She was however oblivious whether this nervous spell was a good or a bad thing. Should she crawl under a rock and make herself scarce after exchanging the necessary small talk or should she act unaffected, like he was? Or should she take a breath, straighten her shoulders and ask for an answer in the hopes it could heal that awful gnawing feeling the aftermath of Edinburgh had left her with...

As she came round to a mute double (or was it triple?) take, she noted Tom seemed just as much out of his comfort zone as she was. And in a weird way it thrilled her. Karma. Suits him well. She could see him running his tongue over his lips before gently biting them shut. His hands fidgeted with the paperwork he held in his hand while he repeatedly re-adjusting his glasses.

Charlotte’s heartbeat however dropped some when she detected the variety of papers Tom had now safely tucked under his arm. So much papers after a doctor’s appointment, and that did not look good. At all. He didn’t look hurt. Was he sick? He seemed nervous, sweaty. He was silent, not at all like the Tom she’d come to know….

Her gaze got caught on the documents, but this point she couldn’t care less about that.

“Are - Are you alright?” Charlotte immediately questioned; she was worried. No point in denying this.

Her wall of defence had slipped and Tom could hear the concern in her voice inkling through. A small little frown came across her features. Only instantly, but he noticed nonetheless. And he thankfully concluded that perhaps she wasn’t yet hating him with the fire of a thousand suns…

"Yeah, no, I erm,” he stuttered, “I just had the obligatory medical check-up for a next project. But you?"

He was astounded though, for a woman who was most definitely not an actress she slid back into her defensive pose oh-so easily. A tall blank wall arose, that gave way to nothing or nobody. He swore he had caught a glimmer of relief into her eyes before though, but all sympathy had fled from her now.

“Good-good,” she replied with formal nod, “just - work.”

Tom took notice of how curt she suddenly acted. How could he not. But to Charlotte it was simply her only means as she desperately did not want to feel a single thing. Not those stupid-ass fireflies, not the inexplicable angry hurt, not the stomach drop. None of it. She wanted nothing more than to be cool and step over all of this matter-of-factly. Her gut swirled with bottled up questions and insecurities, but she would have none of that. Water under the bridge.

Get over it Daniëls. He sure has.

3. Believe

Charlotte slid into the leather seats of his fancy car. A fresh cool bottle of water clasped in her hands. He’d paid for it despite her vehement veto. He wouldn’t listen though. And now she was here, in his car, because he offered to drive her to the St. Pancras Station. She’d refused, replying she was taking the underground so he really shouldn’t bother. It was noon. Traffic would be a mess, etc. However she ended up giving in to this request - albeit reluctantly - because he was right on one thing; they needed to talk. Privately if possible and the hospital lobby was just no place to do just that.

But in spite of that, they did not exchange one word once inside the car. Tom pulled out of the underground parking with a silent ease. And emerging in the London streets and into the full sunlight, he reached out for his trusted sunglasses. Meanwhile the familiar scent of leather and some citrussy car perfume tempted Charlotte’s mind into a trip down memory lane, back to another night several weeks back in time. A night with equally nervous heart flutters, but for entirely different reasons.

He queued down the main road, while desperately trying to sort his thoughts before settling on a

“You’ve never answered me…”

Charlotte remained at a loss for words for a couple of seconds before huffing a vexed “honestly?!” and shaking her head in disbelief.

He could hear her as she exhaled loudly, seemingly trying to get her mind pulled back together again,

“With quite a delay I got your texts and,” a pause, “your voicemail.”

His eyes urged her on.

"You said - if memory serves me well, and it usually does - that you wished you'd said ‘goodbye’.” Charlotte paused, “forgive me but I thought that was how this worked for you."

"How what worked?"

"You didn't show up!!" She didn’t mean for her voice to go up in pitch and she furiously furrowed her brows to compensate for it, "I mean, it's all right, I was ….. naive I guess? Somewhere I knew I wouldn't see you again that night, but yet hoped for it. Against better judgement."

"Wha, wh- why would you expect I wouldn't show up?"

Charlotte lifted her chin and rested her head against the headrest while releasing a cold and hollow laugh, which he didn’t particularly cared for, "To-om!"

But he remained silent, a bit dumbfounded and clueless for what to say next. A car behind them honked, frustrated Tom had failed to acknowledge the light turning green and was still at a halt.

"You don't want to let anybody down, I understand," Charlotte muttered, "no need to..."

"Only I did," he interrupted, "I let you down, I let myself down. I’m just…”

“Just stop it,” Charlotte interjected as she shook her head in seeming defeat and looked at him wearily.

“You know, I hate it how you are making all of this around you?”

“I’m sorry,” he blinked twice, “come again?”

"Like it’s all your hurt feelings in the scale here. It drives me mad….” she huffed, “You know, I think or at least I hope we've established in the past that I'm not really the type of girl that just goes crawling into bed with someone on a whim?”

Charlotte gestured aggravatedly, “so excuse me if I'm a bit rough around the edges here, but I clearly heard you say ‘goodbye’ to me. So, what else would there be left for me to say? It didn't really feel like a message that allowed any type of answer…"

“So just,” she sighed, “let’s just call this for what this is or was. And move on?”

A pang went straight through his heart. He saw her turning away and looking through the window from the passenger seat at the building that passed her by. Good. He desperately needed a minute to himself to let her words sink in. He couldn’t quite grasp the fact that she would see him as this promiscuous playboy who just went sleeping around with whomever struck his fancy...

“I demand an appeal,” he muttered as he turned a corner.

“You what?!”

“Well, isn’t that what they do in your job?”

Charlotte snapped her head back. Oh really?

Trapped in a car. In traffic. No way for an escape. And he wants to plead his case. Fucking perfect.

“You know,” he argued more determined now, “you keep saying, ‘let’s call it what it is’. And then you do just that. And proceed to you turn your back on me. And it’s settled?” he questioned.

“But what about me? Do I at least get the chance to call it what it was for me?” he pressed on, “I do feel like you owe it to me to let me explain..."

"Owe it to you?" she frowned with a huff, hovering clearly unsettled.

"Yes, Charlotte,” he replied. Curt. To the point.

“And if you truly feel the way you say you do - I promise, I will not push this matter further. However I will not let you silence me before I have spoken my part.”

"I wanted to see you that night. But the crowd, .... and then some fans walked up and then there was this critic," he sighed in utter frustration and banged the steering wheel in sheer annoyance, "I am an idiot! I know I am. And I should have been more firm. I went about it all wrong. And for that I will be forever angry with myself."

“But,” he sighed, “I did want to see you and ... verify that the other night was not just a dream. I longed to see you. To hear you. To hold you and to kiss you goodnight. Not goodbye.” he shook his head in disbelief.

“And if I said that wrong on your voicemail then I apologize for it. All of it. I was tired. Impatient.”

Heartbroken

He held her gaze, “I am not thàt type of man you seem to want to take me for, I am not the type to sleep around. You must believe me on this one. I might not have the best track-record with you so far; I admit,” he added a bitter laugh, “but this is true. I promise you that."

She kept silent. This seemed like a good sign…

"But Charlotte, I called you and went straight to voicemail. To me, that was quite a clear message as well... No response is still a response, Charlotte,” he concluded.

"Have you spoken your peace, Tom?"

He replied to her with a silent surprised nod.

“Apparently,” she mumbled, “when you attach a cell-phone to a power bank it shuts off everything so it loads faster…”

“Of course,” he wrinkled his nose as he shrug his shoulders as if to convey her he did not see the point of this lesson, “that’s the way they work.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow ironically, “well congrats to you but I didn’t know that.”

“What on earth?”

“In Edinburgh, a colleague of mine lent one to me… my battery was running low and … I didn’t want to miss any….” She furrowed her brows and looked down at the drink in between her hands. “I didn’t have a watch. My cell is … my clock, my calendar. It erm - it automatically put me in flight mode. I didn’t realize. And I’m sorry about that.”

He looked back at her with sympathy and nodded, “ok.”

She nodded with a kindhearted smile, “so, appeal granted. It’s good we talked. But, you don’t want this."

"Ouch," he chuckled and clutched his heart. "Well that stung. For a minute there I thought he came to an understanding here?"

"Don't miss my point," Charlotte slanted her head and looked at him with sympathy.

"And don't you miss mine,” he interrupted her, “because even though you believe you speak the truth, you are wrong."

"Am I?"

"So very wrong! Because, as it turns out, I do wànt this,” he gestured between them, “or at least a fair chance at this.”

But Charlotte only rolled her eyes and turned her gaze outwards again.

“My god! I swear there are pitbulls that are less tenacious than you!”

Charlotte grunted and looked down at the bottle in between her hands, before a stupid grin fell from her lips.

“I swear,” he shook his head, “so help me god.”

“And now she’s laughing… You’re putting me through hell here darling...”

“I’ve missed not talking to you,” he finally dared to confess, “And I so desperately wanted to reach out to you, only I … don’t know where you live, I didn’t know where you’d be? So,” he lingered, “I sent flowers to your firm.”

“Well congratulations to Luke,” Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“I tend to pick and send my own flowers, darling. I’m very precise about those things.”

She kept silent. Good.

Tom stared at the steering wheel before him,“Gladiolus, for strength of character, honor and conviction. And they needed to be white; the color of perfection, safety, purity and faith. Writing the accompanying card was an outright hell though because the odds were your colleagues might get it before you did.”

“That was you?” Charlotte reminisced a WhatsApp from her office depicting a gorgeous bouquet and demanding what she had said or done to deserve the honour of such a wonderful bouquet. They couldn’t make out the card though. It only mentioned one word, but the meaning of it was lost on everyone.

Until now.

“Maktub,” Charlotte whispered, to which he nodded.

‘Maktub.’ ‘It is written’.

A deep belief about destiny Paulo Coelho writes about in ‘the Alchemist’ where he captured it in just one word. Maktub. Everything is destined and written. How when and where has already been planned and we shall not get anxious about it. Just little patience and it will just come with time provided and the efforts needed.

She glanced up in his eyes that convey nothing but a clear bluegreen sincerity. She wanted to ask him to say that again, for good understanding. But he gladly repeated it on his own accord.

And there went her heart. In one thousand pieces, scattered all over the ground.

4. Achieve

He officially declared traffic was an absolute mess. It was barely noon and within 20 minutes he had barely made any significant progress towards Saint Pancras Station. Worriedly he inquired with Charlotte when her train was departing and when she quietly confessed “16:03” he dropped his chin to his chest and bit his lip trying to suppress a laugh.

“Can I propose lunch now?” he chuckled, to which she pleasantly nodded. That would be alright.

They agreed they would start over at lunch, wipe the slate clean. Talk. And reset.

Tom made a swift U-turn, sneaking into smaller streets. Homeward. He wanted to let out Bobby first, drop of his paperwork, leave his car. Charlotte wordlessly followed his path.

The chocolate brown Cocker Spaniël happily greeted his master as Tom set foot into his house. Charlotte followed quietly, awkwardly. Bobby sniffed her legs both suspiciously and curiously. When she crouched down and offered him the palms of her hands, he studied and snuffed them gratefully, ultimately giving them a little lick before ignoring her completely and favouring Tom over her.

Tom chuckled, “well, you’re accepted it seems.”

He clicked his tongue, guiding Bobby out into his backyard while Charlotte nervously waited around the living room. She wanted to go explore his bookshelf across the room. As she progressed down the room she admired the stupendously comfy-looking lounge chair and fought the urge to try it out herself. As she ran her fingertips over the fragments of paper that lay scattered around a reading table, her eyes fell upon an article with her name on it, post-its with scribblings on it. An email address, a phone number, some doodling, scratched out words. City names. As she picked up the interview curiously, a second one featuring her appeared underneath. Charlotte chuckled, had he really been trying to track her down?

A soft chuckle brought her back to reality. Tom stood against the door frame, smiling bashfully.

“Caught me red handed.”

But Charlotte could only look at him, rendered speechless.

“Wasn’t lying,” he reminded her, “wanted you. Want you. If you’ll have me.”

It turned out to be the most difficult question anybody had ever asked her.

Do I want this - Do I want to invest in this, whatever it is, potentially discovering it would be only a waste of her time.

Charlotte stood by her belief that notwithstanding their shared morals or values, their common interest or visions, they did remain so different on countless other things. Things that mattered just as much. And you did need some common ground to form a solid basis on which you can build your relationship. Without a solid base everything goes to waste. Hell, even with a solid base things could very well still go to waste. Her marriage was a perfect example of the latter.

On the other hand though... this was him. The man that slowly but surely had crawled under her skin. Attentive, interested, good hearted. And when she’d crumbled down in Germany he was there, while he didn’t really need to be there. Yet there he was, offering support when she had needed it most. He unknowingly found the smallest of cracks in the seemingly airtight seal around her heart and nestled himself inside. Gentleman-like, well dressed and with a good book. Ever patient. Trustworthy. Present. Shit.

Her stomach was in knots when she came to realise, that day, what her heart had known deep down a few days earlier; she could not walk away. Not from this man. But the future scared her nonetheless.

"But - we're as different as chalk and cheese,"

"Are we?"

She smiled, "we live out of our respective suitcases."

"For now," he corrected her.

"Yes, for now. But when I touch down after all this...."

"You'll still only be 2 hours away,"

"But..."

"I dare you," he grinned, feeling he was winning this battle.

"Brexit," Charlotte tried.

"Honestly, Brexit? Of all excuses you come up with, Brexit?"

"Well,..."

"I will gladly add some more pages to my passport. For you," he paused. “Come on darling, don’t hold back now,” he teased, “any objection you have, give it to me. I will gladly deny or overcome every single one.”

“To-om,” she slanted her head. He liked this ‘To-om’ better, when her voice was full of loving emotion again.

“Either you go at it with passion, or not at all,” he added.

“Permission to engage the enemy sir?” he chuckled.

Charlotte rewarded him with a lopsided smile. Momentarily banning all scary thoughts out of her head she gladly but carefully opted to open her heart and take the leap of faith. As petrifying as it felt. Her smile was all the persuasion Tom needed to walk the short distance between them. He stroked her dark brown tresses, admiring her soft feminine features and seeing if he’d remembered them correctly.

She closed her eyes when he slid his hand into her hair and slowly he leant in for a soft kiss. And another one. And another. Sweet and innocent, little testaments of adoration and longing. She ran a hand up from the nape of his neck and through his curls. She’d missed this, that much was true already. And she allowed herself to revell in this sudden rush of enamourment.

She felt his lips curve into a smile in between pecks.

“‘m getting better at this,” he whispered

“Hmm?”

“Third time's a charm. No interruptions here, only Bobby.”

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte breathed, “you’re still buying me lunch Hiddleston.”

Later that afternoon Charlotte lovingly petted Bobby's head before making her leave. Tom had signed up for ComiCon in Vienna, which coincided with her seminar. Only two more days and they would be together again. After sharing a loving last kiss, Charlotte stepped outside into an unsure yet thrilling future.

Tom had asked her to call him when she'd arrived home, claiming he'd only worry until he'd heard from her. He was so easy to love.

Two more days….

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #simple-things

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whumphoarder · 6 years

Text

You Broke Tony

Summary: Peter stumbles into the tower one evening, clearly injured and in need of assistance. Cue a very agitated and sleep deprived Tony trying to make sense of what happened.

Word count: 2,180

Genre: Fluffy angst

A/N: This is set sometime between Homecoming and Infinity War, but my head canon is that Tony buys back Avenger’s Tower because he is a fickle man and also someone has to keep an eye on Spider-Man.

Link to read on Ao3

Tony had been holed up in his workshop non-stop for the past three days. He had just begun his newest project—a massive overhaul for the Iron Man armor in which he would finally integrate nanotechnology to create a fully retractable suit. It had been a difficult and tedious process thus far, evidenced by the bags under his eyes and borderline-dangerous levels of caffeine flowing through his system.

So when FRIDAY first interrupted the AC/DC album blasting over the speakers that evening to report that Peter Parker was standing in the tower’s entryway, Tony was confused.

“Huh? What day is it?” he asked the AI stupidly.

“It’s Thursday,” the female voice replied. “Peter is inquiring if you’re home.”

Okay, good. So at least he hadn’t lost complete track of time and skipped to the weekend. He glanced up at the clock and saw it was half-past eight. Peter had likely just stopped in during a patrol—a rare occurrence, but not completely unprecedented. The tower had free WiFi after all.

Unfortunately, Tony wasn’t in the mood for visitors. “Tell him I’m busy working on something right now but he can let himself in. There are those pudding cups he likes in the fridge—butterscotch, since he’s sixteen going on eighty.”

Tony resumed his work, switching out wires and adjusting settings. After a moment, the AI relayed, “He says thank you, and also wonders if you have any old towels he can borrow, preferably ones that can get stained."

“Direct him to the linen closet,” Tony said distractedly. With pliers, he tugged at a wire inside one of the suit’s gauntlets. It sparked at him, causing him to jerk his hand back. “Rude,” he remarked at the armor.

After another pause, FRIDAY reported, “He is unable to make it to the closet and is requesting assistance.”

Another attempt to adjust the wires only caused more sparks, this time with one flying off and igniting an oily rag on the workstation. Dum-E whirred to life, ready to douse it. “Hey, no! You stand down!” Tony commanded the robot. He quickly smothered the small flame with a metal pan to extinguish it.

The bot whirred at a lower pitch, sounding disappointed.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he quipped back. “If I have to clean that foam off one more time, I’m powering you down.” To FRIDAY, he replied, “So send Happy.”

“Mr. Hogan is off for the evening, Boss,” the AI responded.

“Send Pepper then,” he said, annoyed.

“Ms. Potts is currently still in Japan on business. Peter is also wondering if you have any ibuprofen.”

That finally got Tony’s attention. He sighed deeply and put down his instruments. “Tell him I’m on my way.”

“Right away, Boss. Though you should know he seems quite distressed at this information and is insisting he’ll clean everything up himself.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet he is,” Tony muttered back.

A few minutes later, a rather grimy-looking Tony stepped out of the elevator, carrying several towels and a bottle of painkillers. “Not sure why you think I’m your butler now,” he grumbled as he approached, “but FRIDAY said you needed…” Tony froze mid-step. His eyes went wide as he took in the scene before him. “Aw, shit! What did you do?!"

Peter startled at the exclamation. He’d been sitting on the floor near the building’s entrance, one leg extended out in front of him and the other bent so he could rest his head against his knee. He still wore the Spider-Man suit—except for the mask, which was clutched in one hand—and appeared dazed.

But by far the most concerning observation was the fact that the teenager was completely covered in blood.

“Oh, hey Mr. Stark,” he said, his voice a bit slurred. “I’m really sorry to bother you, I just wasn’t sure where to go...”

In an instant, Tony had closed the distance between them. Dropping to his knees beside Peter, he threw the towels down and grabbed the kid by the shoulders. “Karen, report!”

“She’s offline,” Peter muttered. “That’s why I couldn’t call. I’m really sorry, Mr. Stark, I’ll clean everything up, I swear.” He reached out for a towel, but Tony swatted his hand away.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re gonna hold still and explain why my lobby looks like the set of a student-directed slasher film,” Tony commanded. He was running his hands over Peter’s limbs urgently, checking for entry wounds or damage to the suit that would indicate where the blood was coming from.

Peter seemed nervous now. “I’m really sorry, I don’t think it will stain, I just - ah!” He let out a hiss of pain as Tony’s hand brushed against a lump on the back of his head.

Tony’s brow furrowed. “That hurts?”

Peter gave a slight nod. “But it’s not so bad…"

Tony scoffed as he pulled his hand away to get a closer look. Amazingly, that part of his head was one area of Peter not covered in blood. Deciding this would be easier if he could see actual flesh, he pressed the spider insignia on the front of the suit. The fabric immediately loosened.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Peter panicked.

Tony was already working to free the boy’s shoulders and upper body from the material. “Getting this off,” he answered simply.

“What? No!” Peter cried. His words ran together as he begged. “No please don’t take the suit! I’m really sorry, Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean to mess up, I’ll do better, I promise!”

The suit only half removed, Tony stopped. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he said urgently. He tilted Peter’s chin up to him and saw there were tears welling up in the corners of the kid’s eyes. “I’m not taking the suit away and I don’t give a single shit about the floor,” Tony said firmly. “But I need to know where you’re hurt. So either you tell me right now, or I figure it out myself.”

Sniffing, Peter blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall. “It-It’s not too bad. I just hit my head and I think I sprained my ankle or something—”

That was when Tony’s patience ran out. “The blood, Peter!” he interrupted. “Talk about the blood! Like where is it coming from?”

Peter frowned, looking confused. Then suddenly something seemed to click in his addled brain.

"Oh, no Mr. Stark. This isn’t my blood,” he said simply.

Of all the things Tony had expected to hear from the young hero, that was definitely not one of them. He stiffened, the feeling of icy horror flowing through him. “Whose is it?”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, sorry! I mean it’s not anyone’s! It’s not real.” Seeing as Tony looked unconvinced, he dragged his finger across one of the crimson splotches on his suit and licked it. “See? It’s like red-dyed corn syrup and glycerin or something.”

Tony’s head was swimming. “So you’re not bleeding? Not anywhere?”

“I’m not bleeding,” Peter confirmed.

Letting out a massive exhale, Tony shifted his weight until he was sitting back on his butt rather than his knees. He used his jeans to wipe the crimson liquid off his hands before balling them into fists and pressing them to his eyes in exasperation. “Alright, start talking, kid. Why in god’s name are you sitting on the floor of my building covered in fake blood? Because if this is some kind of prank, allow me to remind you I have a heart condition, and so help me I will—”

“It’s not a prank.” Peter squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sigh almost as big as his mentor’s. “Alright. I was on patrol,” he began, “and I noticed this mugging going down—it was in an alleyway between a CVS and… Uh, you know those temporary stores that pop up around October and sell costumes and decorations and stuff? But then they’re gone again in November?”

“Yeah, I know what you’re talking about. Go on,” Tony prompted with a hand wave.

“One of those. I yelled at the mugger guy to get his attention and when he spun around I tried to web him up like usual. But my web-shooter jammed. I think it’s because of this new web fluid formula I’ve been using,” Peter rambled. “Actually, Mr. Stark, I was gonna ask you about that because it seemed awesome in all the lab tests but it’s been clumping sometimes now and I can’t figure out exactly why...”

“We’ll work on it later. Keep talking, kid."

“Right. Uh, I had to hit the web-shooter a couple times and finally got it unclogged, but by then he had already run off. But the lady he was mugging—she was real nice by the way, told me thank you like a hundred times—she said she saw him duck into that costume store.”

“And you went after him?” Tony guessed.

“Yeah. It was kinda funny actually.” Peter gave a lopsided grin. “He had a wig on and was like, trying to get into this giant bumblebee costume, like he thought he could blend in or something. But he was the only person in the store except for one middle-aged Asian lady at the register, so it was super obvious. Then I shot a web at his feet to trip him, and that worked, but uh, turns out he had a knife and—”

“Did he hurt you?” Tony interrupted.

“Well, he tried but—”

Immediately, Tony started trying to pull the rest of the suit off again and find whatever injury Peter was hiding.

“No, no Mr. Stark, he missed!” Peter said quickly. Tony relaxed again as Peter continued his recount. “He threw the knife at me and I jumped out of the way, no problem. But then I sorta crashed into this display shelf, and that knocked a bin over which was full of these little plastic bags. And then I landed on them, so a bunch of them burst open...”

“Let me guess.” Tony sighed exasperatedly. “Fake blood.”

“It was everywhere,” Peter said miserably. “I sorta smacked my head on the counter too…” He ran his fingers over the lump on his skull, wincing.

Tony frowned. “Okay. We’ll get that checked in a minute. What about the ankle?”

Peter’s cheeks flushed red. “Uh, the guy got back up and was starting to run again, so I shot another web at him, but now my head hurt and I couldn’t really see straight and I missed. I tried to get up so I could try again and I sorta, uh… slipped.”

Tony blinked at him. “You slipped.”

Peter’s voice was barely audible as he muttered, “...I slipped on the blood.”

Perhaps it was sleep deprivation from too many consecutive hours in the lab that caused what happened next, or maybe it was simply the relief that his young charge was not actively dying combined with the ludicrous image of a spandex-clad teenage superhero wiping out in a pool of fake blood in the props section of a Halloween City. But whatever it was, this particular piece of information suddenly caused the billionaire to do something he almost never did.

Tony Stark giggled.

Not just laughed, but actually giggled. And once he had started, he couldn’t seem to stop. To Peter’s absolute horror, Tony giggled and giggled until his shoulders shook and tears streamed down and no sound was coming out of his mouth anymore.

The kid was at a total loss. “Mr. Stark…? Are you okay?”

“I’m s-sorry, k-kid!” Tony choked out between gasps. “It’s n-not funny - it’s really not! But you - you fucking slipped on the blood that you spilled!” He dissolved into yet more giggles. “That’s downright poetic, is what it is.”

Peter wasn’t seeing the humor. He hung his head in shame. “The mugger, um - he got away after that.”

Eventually, Tony managed to pull it together. He wiped the tears out of his eyes with his sleeve and took a few deep breaths. “Alright, I’m sorry.” In a serious tone, he asked, “This happened in on patrol, right? How did you end up here?”

Peter shrugged. “I didn’t know where else to go. Karen was offline so I couldn’t call—I think some of the blood got inside and shorted something out? I’m not sure—and I knew I needed to clean the suit, but it’s not like I could put it in my Aunt’s washing machine.” He sighed deeply and admitted, “Plus my head hurt a lot and I couldn’t walk very well so it was hard to think of other options.”

“Wait a minute,” Tony said, frowning. They might have a serious PR problem on their hands. “Are you telling me you swung the whole way from Queens to Manhattan, dripping in blood?”

“No, of course not!” Peter looked offended at the accusation. After a beat he said, “I took the subway.”

Tony let out yet another massive exhale. “Of course you did, kiddo. Of course.”

Fic Masterlist

#irondad #irondad fic #mcu #spider-man fic #spider-man #i rewrote this story so many times #originally it had Steve in it #and Bruce #and Happy #and it was from peter's POV #but i'm much happier with it now as a stripped down version #my fic

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sansllura · 6 years

Text

Playing with fire you’re bound to get burned Chapter 1: Touch

Summary: Her rent was overdue and Allura was running out of options. Not wanting to ask her father for any help she turns to a flyer looking for a nude model.

AN: Sometimes it be 3 am and you just want a good hot Kallura artist/nude model fic. But guess what? There aren't any so you have to make it yourself. Be the change you want to see. This is my first full Kallura fic, I’m getting wild boys

Allura stood outside the old apartment complex, shifting in her heels, unsure. Her heart was racing and she bit her lip in concern as she once again checked the address on the flyer. The paper had become withered and misshapen as she had handled it on many occasions since ripping it down from the job board on campus.

Her father had offered to pay off this month's overdue rent, something that did not surprise her, but she had stubbornly refused. He was already paying her tuition for her to attend law school, the least she could do was fund her own living situation. Unfortunately, the small cafe she worked at was closed for the next two weeks as the young owner ventured off on his honeymoon with his newly wedded beau. Allura was happy for the man, though a bit distressed at suddenly lacking a paycheck.

Ao3 Link

Contemplating backing down and running for hills, Allura closed her eyes and took some calming breaths. The fear of her witch of a landlady, Honerva, sent shivers down her spine and her finger pressing down on the buzzer. She toyed with the end of her braid as she waited in anticipation. After a moment's pause, a voice finally trickled through the speaker.

“Hello.” The voice was deep, clearly belonging to that of a man, with a low grumble of enticement that sent Alluras already erratic heartbeat into a further panic.

“Hi- yes, I saw your flyer about the modelling,” Allura spoke quickly, struggling not to let her nerves get the best of her. “If you're still looking of a model, I-”

“The elevators on your right, my place is right across the hall on the fifth floor.” The intercom cut off and a quiet buzz let her know that the door had been unlocked. Pushing the door open Allura let out a breath of air. She was slightly irritated from being cut off rather rudely by the man upstairs, the flyer still clutched in her grip. As the elevator began to climb the floors she took a last look at the abused piece of paper.

Art student looking for a nude model

Ability to stay in position for an extended amount of time

$300/per session

Before she could chicken out and run the lift was opening on to the fifth floor and Allura found herself knocking lightly on the door across the hall. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she shook at the sound of the lock clicking. The man that greeted her was young, around her age. He had long dark hair, pulled loosely back into a ponytail with some longer strands framing his face. He wore all black, save for a red flannel he left unbuttoned. His dark brow was furrowed as he looked at her with eyes she couldn’t decide the colour of. They seemed to flit between a violet and indigo hue. He had a scar on the right side of his face which she quickly diverted her attention from, not wanting to seem rude.

“I’m Allura.” She stuck her hand out politely, ever the daughter of a politician, and gave the alluring man a pleasant smile. After a moment's pause, he grasped her hand. His grip was gentle, his calloused fingertips firmly pressed against her own soft skin. Her hand burned at the contact.

“Keith.” His voice sent a shiver down her spine. As he let go of her hand Allura could still feel the searing touch of his embrace linger. He stepped back, making room for her to enter his home. The apartment was larger then she suspected, with high ceilings and large windows. It was simplistic and tidy, an unusual feature compared to that of the previous homes of young men she’d been to. Though to be fair, Allura hadn’t been to many homes owned by young men, but she definitely didn’t think Keith's place could be what was expected of the majority.

She jumped slightly at the door closing behind her and spun around to once again face the young artist. Still clutching the flyer in her hand she quickly stashed it away in her purse. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thanks but it's not mine,” Keith walked past her, flicking his head forward, indicating for her to follow. “It's my brothers, he just lets me stay with him.”

Allura let out a little hum of acknowledgement. An older brother explained the nice place and took away the tiny ounce of jealousy she’d originally fostered. Keith lead her to the back of the apartment into a room that was clearly being utilized as an art studio. The floor was draped in white bed sheets that were covered in various hues of paint. A large window let in the early afternoon sun and illuminated a single couch covered in another bed sheet. Keith walked towards an easel positioned before the couch. He began to pull out various tools from a paint-splattered workbench that he set upon a small table next to the easel. Allura swayed in her spot, nerves once again eating away at her courage.

“Do you have a restroom I may use?” There was a slight pitch to her voice, caused by the nerves that made her cheeks flush pink in embarrassment.

“The room right next door.”

Allura gave a nod of thanks before heading towards the bathroom. She faltered at the door, poking her head back into the art studio. “Does your brother know this is happening?”

“There's no need to worry, he’s out of town at the moment.”

The fear of being walked in on fully nude disappeared and with a sigh of relief, Allura once again left the room. She took her time undressing, folding each article of clothing carefully before placing it within her purse. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as the chill from the apartments air conditioning met her bare skin. She paused when it came time to remove her undergarments. The matching pink set lined with lace was now the only article of clothing keeping her decent. Thinking over having to walk back into the studio fully bare, Allura opted to keep the set on.

It would have to come off eventually, but at least having some sense of modesty initially dulled her nerves. Scooping her purse back up she made her way to the art studio once again. Avoiding eye contact Allura deposited her bag in the corner of the room. She had her back turned to Keith and after letting out a sigh Allura pulled up her metaphorical big girl panties. Pulling her long plait over her shoulder she brought her hands to the clasp at the back of her bra. Just as she unclipped it she felt a feather-light touch on her shoulder.

Letting out a startled gasp she turned her head to face Keith, quickly grabbing the unclasped bra and holding it to her chest. Her shoulder burned from where their skin had met and the goosebumps were suddenly not just caused by the cold.

“You-you can keep it on.” Keith rubbed the back of his neck, the faintest blush gracing his features.

“The flyer said-”

“I know,” He cut her off once again, but this time there was a nervous tremor to his voice. Good Allura thought It’s easier to act bravely to help someone else. “But if you’re uncomfortable-”

He paused awkwardly, still struggling to maintain eye contact. They stayed like that excruciatingly long. Allura clutching her bra to her bosom looking at the timid artist over her shoulder. It was oddly endearing, his embarrassment at her nudity. She’d expected him to be much more comfortable with their position, seeing as he was not only an artist but a rather attractive man as well. Allura doubted she was the first woman he’d seen naked. However here he stood as though he’d just been dragged into a lingerie store for the first time and was embarrassingly flustered at the sight of the scantily clad mannequins. She hugged herself a little tighter, smiling at the amusing thought.

“Perhaps we should talk for a bit.” She suggested, breaking the silence.

“What?”

“Maybe if we did a bit of talking that would ease up any awkwardness.” She felt almost childish recommending it. They were both adults and shouldn’t be as bothered by her nakedness. Tucking her chin against her chest she shrugged her shoulders. “I’m free all day, so if this takes a little longer than necessary there's no worry.”

The following pause left her wanting to drown herself in a bucket of paint. Pointing out the discomfort had been a stupid move and Allura anticipated being asked to leave. She didn’t dare move, too nervous to lock eyes with the quiet man. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Keith place the flannel he’d been wearing over her shoulders. The material was thin and soft from clearly having been worn countless times. It hung over her petite frame, sitting just below her bum. Warily she let go of the bra she’d been holding.

She let the straps slide down her arms, making its way off her form as though it were a water droplet trailing down a rose petal. The feel of Keith's warm breath against her back moved her arms to carefully pull the shirt tighter to her body. His breath hitched as her bra hit the ground and she could feel his hands stiffen from where they hovered just above her shoulders. Eventually, she turned her body to completely face him.

Quickly, as though she was a flame threatening to scorch him, he withdrew his hands. This time he maintained eye contact. Her heart was pounding erratically, as though it were threatening to burst out of her chest at any moment. His stare was intense and she felt herself being pulled into the galaxies within his eyes, an adventure she found both frightening and exhilarating. A loose strand of hair had fallen from her braid, and as though they were synced together they both went to fix it. Their fingers brushed and the familiar burn once again returned and she wondered if they were, in fact, both flames.

It did feel as though she were playing with fire. Keith was a stranger with gentle hands and dark eyes, a mystery. Being in his home was a gamble, exposing herself as she was doing right now was dangerous. They say if you play with fire you were bound to be burned, but as her ear became charred by his hand tucking her hair back, Allura doubted that it was really a punishment.

“It’s okay,” His voice was soft, he caressed each syllable as though it were a tender embrace. It was almost as if he was hesitant to speak too powerfully as if she were a frightened animal. “If you’re comfortable that's all that matters, I can paint.”

Her tongue darted out and brushed her lips in anticipation. She gave him a nod and Keith stepped back, distancing himself from her. Sustaining eye contact she pulled down her panties, kicking them off and flinging them to the side. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment, but she was not a child and she would not back down. Keith's gaze never left her face, never lingered on her body that peaked out from beneath his shirt. His eyes were alight and resembled the flames she knew danced beneath his touch. The shirt would come off, they both knew it, but for now, she savoured in its soft embrace. She lowered her face closer to the collar of the flannel, taking in the fragrance, a moment he did not miss. The shirt smelt of detergent, light and fresh, but there was the slightest musk of timber that she knew was caused by Keith. She was certain. “I’m ready.”

“If you need anything, a break, a drink, don’t hesitate to ask.” He offered her his hand. “I will do anything that you need Allura.”

It was a bold declaration. Though his remark could be taken as an act of common courtesy, with the way, his voice had deepened upon saying her name she couldn’t help but sense there was a profound meaning behind it. It felt as though she could give the most obscure of requests and Keith would go racing to fulfil it. Allura didn’t know what scared her more, the weight of his words or the fact she believed every one of them. Still gripping his shirt she placed her free hand within his hold.

“And I will do anything that you ask of.”

AN: i don’t know what I’m doing. Chapter two will be posted tomorrow.

#kallura #juniblade #voltron #VLD #Allura #princess allura #keith kogane #Voltron legendary defender

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theguardiansseries · 6 years

Text

From the Beginning Chapter 8

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Click here to read on Fan Fiction Net Click here to read on Archive Of Our Own

Summary: Danny Fenton was a simple, sixteen-year-old teenager who loved fast food, video games, and getting a B on surprise pop quizzes. He’s also the half-ghost teenage hero Danny Phantom who defends Amity Park from ghost attacks on a daily basis. Somehow, the ghost attacks make a lot more sense than crushes, friendships, and falling in love with someone he is definitely not supposed to be falling in love with. It was a lot easier to separate Phantom and Fenton before, but now it’s getting harder the more he learns about himself. Just who was he? The dorky son of scientists who loved the stars or the hero that protected the town. He’s starting to feel like he won’t like the answer. (Iambic Prose) (Prequel to Guardians and Partial Show Rewrite)

<<First Chapter>> <<Last Chapter>> <<Next Chapter>>

Chapter Eight

“I think a threat that’s stronger than Pariah is about to wake up.” It sounded silly when he said it out loud, but Danny had been thinking on this for a while now and it was the only thing that seemed to make sense after his walk around Pariah’s Keep.

“What- Wait, what?” Sam looked surprised and even scared, almost, before her expression dropped and her eyes narrowed. “What kind of a threat?”

“I don’t- A threat.” It sounded stupid, but it all lined up! Danny had been seeing the signs for weeks and he hadn’t even realized what he was staring at until it was almost too late - almost. “Sammy, you have to trust me on this one.”

“Uh huh. Why do you think we’re about to face a threat, Danny? And give me an exact reason, not a ghost sense sort of reason.”

“None of the ghosts have attacked in almost two weeks!” Alright, Sam’s groan was unappreciated and wildly unhelpful. “C’mon, Tuck, back me up here. You think it’s weird, don’t you?” Maybe he was exaggerating a little with it being a Pariah level threat, but it was weird.

“Yeah. Weird.” While Tucker gave strange responses sometimes, that was weird even by their standards. He usually never shut up, but thinking about it, Tucker had been weirdly silent during lunch this time.

“Tucker? You alright, buddy?” The three were in the cafeteria, so Danny had been a little concerned with eating before his food was stolen or shoved down his shirt, but now that he was looking, Tucker had a lot of papers and notebooks out. “Okay, last I checked February wasn’t even over yet. What’s with the finals level studying?”

“It’s not studying.” Tucker was staring down at a packet of papers with utter seriousness, food completely abandoned and ignored beside him. It was, Danny decided, absolutely terrifying. “It’s for the student council elections coming up.”

Danny didn’t even get to open his mouth before Sam was kicking him, which, alright, he probably deserved that considering he hadn’t even known that his best friend was running for student elections. “Cool- Cool. That’s cool. Uh, refresh my memory, which position are you going for?” Because if Tucker was aiming for President, then he had quite the depressing news.

“Vice president. In this school, the VP always is the one behind the big changes. The jocks can fight for the figurehead position all they want, but I know what I’m doing.”

“Never doubted you for a second, buddy.” At least he had done his research, this year. “So, uh, what kind of plans you have in mind? Hopefully nothing that will end up with a changed lunch menu.”

“Hey! We agreed to never speak of that moment again! Nothing I did or said as a freshman can be held against me and you know it.” Sam glared at him and Danny knew without any doubt that she could kill him anytime she pleased.

“Right, right, so, uh, student council. Vice president. You wanna… talk about it?” That’s what supportive friends did, right? Talk about student politics?

“You have time for it?” All three of them seemed to realize how harsh that was at the same time since Danny winced the same moment as Tucker and Sam. “Sorry- Sorry, that was… Sorry, man.”

“Yeah, no, hey, I get it. I haven’t exactly been around the past few weeks like I should have been.” It had been one crazy thing after another, it seemed, but things were settling down, now. “The ghosts haven’t been by in almost two weeks, though, so I think I’m good on time for the moment.”

“Oh… Right! Well, uh, so first-” The next few words were drowned out by the ringing of the school bell, Tucker looking disgruntled as Sam hid a laugh behind her napkin.

“Raincheck?” Danny grinned, happy when he saw Tucker give a grudging one of his own. “We can talk about it after school. Gaming party at yours?”

“You know it.” Sharing a quick fist bump with the both of them, Danny helped Tucker gather a backpack’s worth of paper as Tucker looked like he tried to stop himself from smiling too widely. “Just you wait, man, I have so many ideas on how to keep this place from becoming hell- Oh! I had a few ideas about our, uh, club.”

“Club? Tuck, we don’t-” Oh. Oh! “Right! The club.” Ghost hunting was a club now, then. Great. “Uh, sure- Yeah. That sounds great.”

A little gaming time with Tucker while talking about their lives sounded like something that was long overdue.

Unfortunately, the ghosts never stayed quiet for long. What was supposed to be a fun night of gaming turned into six hours of fighting off Technus and his latest plan to use the Gamestop in the mall to take over the internet. It was six hours of his life that he was never going to get back, but he figured he could at least make it up to Tucker by taking him to the mall that, thanks to ‘Phantom,’ was still there.

Of course, it would have been better if Desiree hadn’t shown up and started granting wishes by the fountains. One would think that the town of Amity Park would have learned not to wish for things out loud, but four hours of hell proved otherwise. Danny was still trying to figure out who wished for walls to be made of jello. He would kick their ass, if he ever figured it out, that was for sure.

After that it was the Lunch Lady causing a riot at one of the local soup kitchens, Ember trying to enslave a group of teenagers in the park, the Box Ghost taking over the post office, and Johnny and Kitty having a fight that almost destroyed an entire city block.

Finally, though, March was here and things were calming down once again. “Tucker- Hey! Tucker! Wait up!” Student elections for next year’s positions weren’t going to be voted on until late April so Danny had plenty of time to listen to Tucker’s plans and help him out with campaigning and all of that. It would be easier, of course, if Tucker would slow down and wait for him. “Hey, so, I was thinking that today-”

“You could leave me behind and go off and hunt ghosts on your own? Yeah, sounds perfect, Danny, let’s do that.” It wasn’t the words that hurt so much as the way Tucker sounded so bitter. “Here, you can even get a head start. I’ll go home, and you can stand here and wait for the next ghost attack, which should be in, oh, ten minutes? Five, maybe?”

“Okay, no gaming marathon today, then.” Danny shook his head, trying to find out where the bitter attitude was coming from and finding himself unable to. He knew it had been a rough few weeks, but it wasn’t like any of that was Danny’s fault. “Okay, right, I’ll bite, what the hell? I mean, I know I’ve been busy-”

“Busy?” Tucker near knocked Danny over with how fast he turned around. “No, busy would be dealing with the ghosts and then coming to talk to me afterwards. You’ve been a jerk-”

“I’ve been a jerk? You’ve been avoiding me all day when I’ve been trying to catch up to you so we can talk. And I’m sorry, since when am I considered a jerk for taking care of threats that no one else can?”

“No one else- Do you even realize- Do you even see us?! All of this - everything - is all your fault! And you’re too much of a stubborn jerk to even see that!”

“My… And just what, Tucker, is my fault?” None of this was his fault! How was any of this his fault? He had his own stuff to deal with, too, and by the time the fights ended these days, he was too tired to do much more than to make it home and collapse.

What Tucker thought was his fault was something Danny didn’t get to hear. Instead he heard a high-pitched whine, saw Tucker look shocked and scared, and then he felt nothing but pain. Pain and fear were the last things he felt before he saw black.

“Greetings, prey… I had a feeling that my weapons wouldn’t trigger that little detection power of yours.”

“Oh, God, of course it’s you.” Danny’s ears were still ringing, and his mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton and sand, but he had enough sense to recognize Skulker’s voice when he heard it. “And here I thought you finally chased the wrong prey and got your suit destroyed or something.”

“Unfortunately for you, that is not the case. No, whelp… You see, I’ve decided that it was high time that we bring our little hunt to new grounds.” Right, Skulker was just going on with his dramatics. That gave Danny at least five good minutes to figure out where the hell he was and why he felt so awful.

The second one he could probably blame on whatever Skulker had used to knock him out. He remembered electricity, just barely, and that was enough. Skulker had probably gone to Technus to have his weapons upgraded, the jerk.

Okay, okay. Focus. He had been leaving school and- Tuck. Tucker. Right. Well, even if they were fighting, he was still sure that Tucker would call Sam and Jazz and some rescue attempt would be put together. At least, that was what he thought until he heard a familiar groan beside him.

“My brains… feel like oatmeal.” Pushing himself up faster than he should have, Danny’s vision swam as he stared down at where Tucker was lying down next to him.

“Ah, yes. I even brought along a friend of yours for our hunt today. I couldn’t have him running to tell others and interrupt our hunt too soon, now could I?”

“Skulker, the second I can see straight I am going to punch you in your face!” Of all the things to happen of course Tucker would be trapped alongside him! Sam, at least, could have kept pace with him, but Tucker? Depending on where they were, they might just be doomed.

“Maybe once you might have been able to, whelp, but I have the home field advantage.” The… The home field advantage? Stomach feeling like it had been taken out of him and dropped off a skyscraper, Danny shot his gaze up towards the sky and saw nothing except green. Green meant that they were in the Ghost Zone, but Skulker wouldn’t be so smug if it was just that. “Now, since I like to give my prey a sporting chance, I’ll give you a ten-minute head start.”

Feeling a tug to his wrist, Danny’s gaze snapped over to where Tucker was looking shocked and scared, eyes wide as he stared at the handcuffs that chained them together. This, Danny realized, just became a lot more difficult.

“Oh, and did I mention your ten minutes began when you awoke?” Skulker’s smug, satisfied words had Danny scrambling to his feet, fighting the wave of dizziness that swept over him as he grabbed Tucker’s arm and pulled him along as he started to run.

“Danny! Do you even know where we’re going?!” Tucker’s shouts only had Danny pulling them along faster, because the sooner they got away from Skulker, the better.

“I think that as long as we’re running away from the crazy mecha suit, then it doesn’t really matter,” Danny yelled back, eyes wide as he tried not to run them into any trees. He had caught glimpses of a forest in the Ghost Zone once before, but since when had there been a jungle? Were they at Skulker’s island or lair or whatever it was?

“And how do we know we’re not gonna just wind up going in circles!” Feeling a jerk on his arm as Tucker tripped over something, Danny swore as he slowed down enough to make sure Tucker didn’t fall before pulling him along again. “Ow- Danny!”

“Just shut up and run, Tuck. We wouldn’t even be in this mess if you hadn’t been acting like a jerk-”

“You’re blaming me for this?!” Tucker stopped again, and Danny grunted as he felt a sharp tug to his wrist where the handcuff was locked around him. He was starting to hate these handcuffs and he couldn’t wait to punch Skulker in the face for this. “This is your fault, dude.”

“My fault? It’s my fault that you’ve been ignoring me for the last few days?” Seeing the other ready to reply, Danny sharply shook his head the same time he pulled on the chain of the handcuffs. “We don’t have time for this. Just shut up and I’ll fly us out of here.”

Danny let himself relax before he was triggering his change into his ghost half, except there were no rings - or anything else. Trying again, Danny swallowed as, again, nothing happened. “Oh no.”

“Oh no?” Tucker frowned, crossing his arms and bringing Danny’s own arm with him. “Why are you saying oh no?” Changing wasn’t working, nor was flying, or intangibility, invisibility, ectoblasts, or anything else.

“We might have a problem,” Danny finally admitted, looking to the handcuffs and realizing for the first time that they were glowing. “Scratch that, we definitely have a problem.”

Tucker followed his gaze after a moment and it seemed to click at once considering the loud swear he let out. “This thing stops your ghost powers?”

“Seems to be the case,” Danny hissed, fingers scrabbling against the cuff on his wrist. He almost started swearing when it didn’t even budge. “Okay- Okay, just- Don’t panic. Just follow me-”

“And who put you in charge?” Tucker looked even more defensive than before as he took a step forward, poking at Danny’s chest, and, seriously? “This is my life on the line, too, you know! Why do you get to make all the decisions?”

“Can we not do this right now?” Danny frowned, batting Tucker’s hand away. “Look, I get it, you’re pissed I don’t get to spend time with you anymore, but we need to get out of here before Skulker tries to skin us or something. As for the other thing, I get to be in charge because I know about ghost things.”

“And I don’t?” Instead of his words reassuring Tucker, the other only seemed to be getting even angrier. As great as it was that they were finally talking, now was really not the time. “Dude, I’ve been right here the entire time! You don’t even see me, but we’ve been learning all of this stuff at the same time! The same pace!”

“Where is this even coming from?!” Danny finally shouted back, not caring that their ten minutes were probably up and Skulker was on the hunt for them. Skulker was the last thing he was worried about, right now. “It’s only recently that we’ve been fighting like this-”

“Recent?” Tucker’s voice was whisper soft before he was yelling again, looking angrier and angrier with each word. “Recent- It’s always been like this! You’ve always been so damn prideful and full of yourself and it’s gotten worse ever since you became ‘Phantom.’ You think you’re above everything!”

For a second, Danny could only stare at his best friend in shock. Then the shock ended and anger set in. “Above- You have no idea what I go through!” They could never understand. Tucker and Sam could never understand what it was like to be half-ghost. They saw him, but they didn’t see the aftermath. They never saw. “I’m trying to be ‘in charge’ because I, at least, know about all these damn ghost things-”

“And I don’t?!” They were the same words, but this time Tucker screamed them as if Danny had just stabbed him. “I’ve been right here this entire time and learning it all the same time as you! I’ve been here the whole time and you don’t even see me! I’m nothing but the tech guy to you!”

“At least you know what you are!” The words exploded out of him, Danny certain that his powers would have already been reacting if they hadn’t been suppressed. “I don’t even know if I’m alive anymore some days-!” Danny’s words died in his throat as he saw green energy that was speeding towards them.

Their ten minutes were definitely up, and Danny realized in that moment how loud they had been screaming. He then realized that while these weapons could hurt ghosts, this was technology that could kill humans, and it was flying right for Tucker’s back and no-

Danny was moving before his brain could make the decision, hands grabbing Tucker by the arm and back of the neck before he was spinning them around to switch places. He then immediately pushed them towards the ground. The blast of energy felt like fire against his skin as it seared across his back, gritted teeth feeling like they would break as he suppressed a scream and hit the ground a second after Tucker.

He didn’t give himself time to recover, instead dragging the two of them up before running through the jungle again, trying not to focus on how Skulker’s laugh boomed all around them. Danny knew Tucker was trying to say something, but Danny ignored it until he was skidding into a cave opening, knowing the hiding spot was only temporary.

“-alright?!” Tucker’s whisper shouting finally sunk in, Danny blinking as he looked over to see Tucker was staring at him with wide, wet eyes and shaking hands. “Dude- Dude, you pretty much just took a bullet for me.”

Staring at him for a minute, Danny finally shrugged and tried for a grin, “I can handle stuff like that.” Tucker couldn’t. Danny was stronger against these types of things even in his human form.

“But- We were fighting. We were fighting and you still- Ow! Hey!” Watching Tucker clutch the back of his head where Danny had just hit him, Danny gave a mock glare.

“Dude, do you seriously think that I would let you get hurt just because we’re fighting?” Danny was definitely pissed at Tucker and he had the urge to drop him off a small hill or something, but even at their worst he would never want Tucker hurt, let alone killed. “Idiot.”

Hearing leaves rustling, Danny jerked them further into the cave, biting his lip at the wave of pain from his back even as he pulled Tucker down to the ground and into the shadows. The two were utterly silent and still as the rustling leaves slowly moved away before they disappeared altogether.

“Okay, we need a plan,” Danny finally said, looking to Tucker and giving him a nudge. “Any ideas, VP?” There was a long moment where Danny thought Tucker was going to make a thing of it before he looked away with a grudging smile.

“Elections aren’t until April, you know,” Tucker said quietly, Danny beyond grateful that they weren’t the type to go into feelings. “Sorry. I-”

“Nope, no, nuh-uh, we don’t have time to deal with emotions. You’ve been a jerk and I’ve been an arrogant asshole or something and got carried away and forgot to tell you that we’re a team, and you’re not just backup.”

“I’ve been a jealous asshole,” Tucker finally corrected, looking suspiciously emotional. “And you’ve been a prideful prick who doesn’t like to take suggestions.” Ah, much better. “You think I would have learned the first time about being jealous.”

The memory of Desiree and her powers sent a shudder through Danny and Tucker both, especially as they remembered the end result. While ‘Tucker Phantom’ hadn’t been bad at first, it had showed Danny that he could get as wrapped up in himself as anyone else. Had he really started slipping that easily, again?

“I haven’t exactly given you reason not to be,” Danny finally said, sitting up slowly and trying not to show how much his back was hurting him. Tucker probably knew, anyways, judging by his wince. “Tuck… I didn’t think I had to say it because I thought you knew, you idiot.”

“As always, you’re full of such affectionate nicknames,” Tucker grumbled, peeking his head out of the cave. “Looks clear, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had Technus rig up some kind of spying system.”

“Yeah, but Tucker, look, man, I’m trying to emotionally connect, here.” At the look on Tucker’s face, Danny did his best not to laugh. “I’m serious. You’re not just tech support.”

“Yeah, yeah, man, I know, we’re friends and I’m part of the team and-”

“We’re not friends.” Danny let Tucker’s shocked silence sit for a moment before he grinned, giving him a nudge. “We’re brothers, aren’t we?”

“Oh my god you almost gave me a heart attack.” Even as Tucker dramatically clutched his chest, Danny could see the way his eyes were getting wet. He knew his own were the same, so at least they had mutually assured destruction. “This conversation never happened.”

“What conversation? Seriously, though, please tell me you have a plan or something, because otherwise we’re kind of screwed.”

“I don’t know how to get these cuffs off, but I do have something.” Watching as Tucker twisted and squirmed around, Danny shook his head as the teen finally got his backpack open from where it was stuck on one arm.

“Tell me that you’re not about to pull out some plot device to save the day or whatever. I know our lives have gotten kind of crazy, Tuck, but-” A Fenton Thermos was being waved in front of him. A Fenton Thermos that was black and green. “Whoa. Dude, what…?”

“I told you I’ve been working on our ghost stuff, too. This is one of the things I was trying to show you, dude.” The Thermos, which looked a lot less like a thermos these days, was the same size as the old ones, but had a metal plate that had a circular pattern to it covering the top instead of the lid it used to have. “It’s like one of those cool sci-fi kinds of openings, you know? You just a press button, this opens up like a circle thing, and boom, you have a ghost capturing ray.”

“Tuck, you’re a genius.” Taking the Thermos, Danny’s grin got even wider as he thought about how much work must have gone into something like this. “You’re my favorite.”

“Sweet. I’d tell Sam, but I don’t know if the satisfaction would be worth both of our deaths,” Tucker laughed, falling silent the same time Danny did. A branch had snapped not far off from where they were sitting. “Wanna take that thing for a test drive?”

“Tuck, you read my mind.” Danny grinned as the two of them stood back up, Danny realizing in that moment that Tucker really had been through it all with him. As Skulker stepped out of the foliage, Danny’s grin grew wider. This was going to be fun.

“I was wondering when you would be back! Honestly, you could at least give warning if you’re going to disappear for weeks on… end.” Ghostwriter stared at him and Danny could see the exact moment that he registered Danny’s back was bleeding and he was chained to Tucker. “This one must be Tucker, I presume?”

“Oh, cool, you do talk about us!” Tucker’s voice was a cheerful little chirp as he stuck his hand out. “Yo. I’m Tucker Foley, Danny’s best-friend-slash-brother. You must be the ghostly book nerd he won’t shut up about.”

“You’re going to make me regret bringing you here, aren’t you,” Danny grumbled, reluctantly amused when Ghostwriter cautiously shook Tucker’s hand. “So, uh, hey, do you know how to lockpick handcuffs?”

“I do, actually, yes.” Oh, cool. That made this easier. Danny also knew what he was asking Ghostwriter about next time he visited. “I take it those handcuffs were not a choice, then.”

“Why- Why would you think it was a choice?” Danny was grateful that Tucker looked just as horrified, but Ghostwriter only looked amused as he opened the door properly for them.

“Who am I to judge another’s preferences? Come on, then. It shouldn’t take me long. I take it that’s been cancelling out your abilities?”

“Yeah, Skulker’s a dick,” Danny nodded, pulling Tucker into the library and using the handcuff like a leash when it looked like Tucker was about to run off to explore. “Do you have bandages, too?”

“Goodness, you’re certainly high maintenance,” Ghostwriter sighed, looking amused instead of concerned, thank God. Danny was good enough with all the concern he already got. “I should have something.”

“So, hey, you know, you could totally go digital and get rid of half these books - maybe free up some space, even. I mean, paper copies aren’t really efficient.”

Ghostwriter, after faltering in his steps and looking back, gave Tucker the dirtiest look that could ever be imagined, Danny breaking and starting to laugh when Tucker only beamed back before going in depth about the advantage of technology over books. It was good to have things back to normal.

Danny couldn’t wait until they got even better, though.

#danny phantom #guardians series #from the beginning #ftb chapters #iambic prose

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ladye11e · 6 years

Text

Deception pt 29

The conflict between the Assassins and the Templars is getting out of hand. Lies, deceit and subterfuge, now you must pick a side...

Tagging @geekgoddess813 @sweet-flash @ermergerd517 @i-wontgivein @imakemyownblog 💕

If anyone else would like a tag, shoot me a dm 😁

Link to the full fic so far is Here.

Your eyes fluttered open and you wiped the sheen of sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand as you sat up steadily, taking several deep breaths to slow the pounding in your chest, as it was beating as if you had just run a marathon.

Glancing around as you tried to push the disturbing images of Achilles' face when he realised you were a traitor out of your mind, you only just noticed that you were alone in the bed. Shuffling out to peek through the curtains and seeing it was still dark outside, you grabbed the dressing gown off the back of the door and plodded out in search of Shay. You spotted him quickly with his back to you at the dining table; engrossed in typing something, so you leant over and kissed him on the cheek, before sitting on the edge of the table next to where he was working.

"There you are. Feeling better?"

"Mmm, much. What are you still doing up?!"

"Still? It's ten o'clock." He stated, weaving his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap.

"Ten? Two whole hours sleep, great."

"No lass, ten on Monday. You've been passed out for over a day."

Your eyes widened as you grabbed his laptop and turned it to you, double checking what he had said as you had never slept for that long in your life. Looking around furiously when it finally sunk in, you went to jump up as your gaze finally landed on your bag, but Shays tightening grip around your middle prevented you from doing so. Cocking your head when he reached around his computer and fumbled about, you took your phone off him slowly when he handed it to you, extremely confused as to why a horde of assassins wasn't banging down the door right now.

"Guessing you're lookin' for this? Gist came over this morning and hacked into the chip, it's turned off now an ya don't need to put in that code. Should be glad I didn't throw it out the window, it's been going off non-stop."

Quickly unlocking it with your thumbprint, you dismissed the seven calls and flicked through the eighteen messages that were on there, grimacing when they were all from Jacob complaining about how Connor was being mean to him, making him exercise and eat green tree things with his dinner, and you needed to get him the hell out of there. You breathed a sigh of relief when you listened to the only voicemail you had, of Altäir sending a mass call to everyone saying that due to the circumstances everyone was allowed two days off to grieve and, were expected back in on Wednesday.

"Hmm, sorry about that. Most of it wasn't even important."

"I was only joking." He chuckled, pulling you down to kiss you gently. "Oh, I forgot to thank you yesterday, for gettin' the boss to give the room back. What did you do to get him to change his mind?"

Flicking through your phone one more time to use it as a distraction while you came up with a good excuse, you tossed it on the table and draped your arms over his shoulders, hoping you had come up with something believable, but would also give you a chance to pry slightly. You didn't want to lie, you even hated yourself for it, but it was better than the alternative.

"Nothing much, just made him realise he was being a complete idiot. Although..."

"Although..??"

Trailing off and furrowing your brow, you scratched your cheek as you contemplated how to word it, without dropping yourself into a spiralling fib.

"I don't know really. I've got the feeling he's hiding something, to use against me if I pissed him off again... I'm not sure though."

"He threatened you?!"

You winced when his arms tightened around you, gritting his teeth and tensing up as if he wanted to run over there and burn the whole building down to the ground.

"Calm down. Not as such, but he heavily suggested that there would be consequences if I made him look like a fool again?"

"I knew it..." He grumbled under his breath, shifting you slightly to the left on his lap so he could pull his computer back in front of him.

"Know what?!"

"Right, promise me you won't get mad."

You looked at him pointedly, as if to say 'well, duh' as he clicked on something several times, which brought up numerous schematics of Templar headquarters, and a particular one of which you slightly recognised as Haythams work office.

"You know what I mean. Remember that pin you wore for our first mission? Well, I had a gut feelin' that I wasn't the only one watching. Then he confirmed my suspicions when he asked me about that drawing you did, before I'd even mentioned it."

Rolling your tongue in your cheek as you could see where this was going, you zoned out; now thinking that more than just Haythams eyeballs would look good on a stick, snapping out of your revengeful plotting and sighing when you realised Shay was still talking.

"When I confronted him about it, he said that the feed went to his computer too so he could have a look for anything that could help us, but it was deleted. I'm sure he recorded it though, cos he keeps bringin' up little details that no one would have noticed unless they watched it more than once. I didn't know, I swear to ya."

"Son of a bitch... Details such as?"

The corner of your mouth curled up when he shuffled about and lowered his gaze to your lap, his cheeks taking on a pinkish hue when you booped his nose playfully, making you wonder why he kept getting flustered so quickly recently.

"Aww, you're cute when you're embarrassed. Okay, you don't have to say. But why didn't you tell me about it before now??"

"Cute?! Thanks, I think?" He mumbled, which made your eyes roll and a chuckle erupt. "Didn't say anything because I've got no proof. It's what I've been workin' on the past few days."

Now paying more attention to the screen when he pointed at it, you saw that it wasn't only the floorplans were there, but all of the internal ducting, emergency exits and lifts were highlighted too.

"If he has got anything, it'll be on his work computer, not his personal one upstairs because he was in the middle of that bloody merger thing when all that was happening, and he never left the place. You up for another bit of larceny together lass?"

You grinned wickedly and pulled him to you by the collar of his shirt, kissing him firmly before shuffling around on his knee, so your back was up against his chest.

"Stupid question... So, what's the plan?"

Spending all of the evening formulating a way in and out of Haythams office, you had finally come up with a strategy, and were now stood across the street from Templar headquarters at eight fifteen in the morning. Checking your reflection once more in your compact mirror, you were satisfied enough that even your own mother wouldn't be able to recognise you. You had reached out to one of your contacts Mary Read; who was an expert in disguises, and after being under her skilled hands for several hours, you were now adorning a full latex mask and a somewhat itchy wig, drastically changing your appearance. Knowing that she would have no idea who Shay was, you took him with you (even though he was rather surly about having to wear 'makeup') but as it had taken longer to get him done than yourself and had to leave to finalise a few details, you didn't have a clue what he looked like right now.

Fiddling with your choker that concealed a voice synthesiser as it felt like you were being strangled, you didn't notice that someone was stood behind you until you felt a hand cup your ass. Spinning around quickly and getting ready to punch whoever it was, you suddenly dropped your arm when you looked into the stranger's eyes, recognising them instantly.

"You're late." You scoffed, frowning at the higher pitched voice that came out of your mouth. "Blonde is definitely not your colour either."

Taking a step back to get a better look at Shay, your nose crinkled when you saw he was, well, boring. No distinguishing features at all. His scar had been concealed, and his hair was now sandy ash colour and swept to one side. Most would still find him attractive, but this didn't do anything for you in the slightest. But it wasn't like looks mattered at this moment in time, only that he couldn't be recognised, and Mary had done a fantastic job. On the upside, he was wearing a black suit and tie so that he could take the place of one of the security guards on the upper levels.

"I'll keep that in mind next time I go to the salon love." He joked. "Sorry about the time, Gist took a bit longer than he thought to get these Id's sorted. Here ya go."

Staring at the badge for a moment when he handed it to you, your eyes narrowed as you read the name on it three times, rolling all the despicable things you could do to Christopher when you saw him next around in your head.

"Kandi?! I sound like a freaking stripper! I'm gonna kill him..."

Clipping it to your blouse and slapping his arm when he burst out laughing, you stomped over the road when you saw that the staff were starting to arrive at work, stopping just outside while you waited for Shay to catch up; who was still sniggering at you.

"Oh shut up, Gus. Well, here we go."

Holding your breath as you swiped your card to get through the turnstiles and enter the building, you resisted the urge to smirk when you got through security without any problem and, headed over to the elevators. You were pushed to the back when nearly a dozen other people flooded in, giving you the perfect opportunity to look over the shoulder of the girl in front of you; whose place you would be taking, and sneak a peek at her mobile while she was texting. Taking a phone that Shay slyly handed to you and holding it down by your side, you clicked the screen when you saw that it had paired with her cell, allowing you to clone it.

Flicking through the contacts list quickly, you eventually came across the one you were looking for; stomach-churningly named 'xXhunnibunniXx', and sent a beautifully doctored picture of her kissing a man inside her car. Switching the phone off and slipping it into your bag, you only had to wait several seconds before hers started ringing, pursing your lips when as soon as she answered it, she started becoming hysterical.

"What?! What are you talking about?? I haven't cheated! Sweetie, please... Wait... Listen to me!"

You managed to keep a straight face as she banged on every button on the lift in trying to get out, barging through the doors and pretty much screaming down the phone when they finally opened. Sliding her work card that you had managed to snatch off of her bag into your pocket, all you had to do now, was wait until you got to the top floor.

By the thirty second, there was only four of you left in here, and you were becoming impatient at how long this was taking, huffing when the elevator stopped again at the next level. And as your luck would have it, just as the last two people got off the next person to get on was none other than Haytham, whose eyes immediately widened as he saw you, standing a little too close for comfort directly to your right. Crap crap crappity crap crap! You thought as he kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, and you could literally hear Shay gritting his teeth.

"Are you new? I do not believe we have met. Haytham Kenway."

Not daring to meet his eye just in case, you took his hand when he extended it, managing to muster up a small smile when he squeezed your fingers briefly.

"Kandi. I'm just here to help out, one of your assistants called in with a family emergency? So I've been told."

"I see. Well, I do hope you enjoy working for me. Perhaps we could see, more of each other? Over drinks shall we say?"

Your brow furrowed as you wondered what he was getting at when he leered at you, until you followed his gaze downwards and saw that one of your hold ups had slipped, so the lacy top was now just below the hem of your skirt.

"Oh! Silly me. These damned things just won't stay up! Honey, would you mind?"

Spinning around to face Shay, you hoisted your skirt up and propped your heel up on the waist-high rail next to him, grinning when he slowly ran his hands up your calf and thigh, sliding your stocking into its proper place.

"This is my husband, Gus. He's much better at taking them off of course, but that will have to wait until later. So I'll have to pass on your offer. Thank you anyway."

Shay could barely contain his smirk as you kissed him on the cheek and tugged your skirt back down, wiping your lipstick away with your thumb as Haytham gave him a somewhat surly, but polite nod. You bit back the urge to laugh as he couldn't get out of the elevator fast enough when it finally opened on the second to last floor, leaving you and Shay alone for a moment to sort yourselves out when the doors went to close again; pushing the stop button, so the lift didn't go anywhere.

"Well, that's was, interesting, what made ya say that? You probably shouldn't have done it though, that's not gonna make things any easier for us."

"I know, but I couldn't resist, it was just the first thing that popped in my head. Besides, since when do we ever get to do something as easy as this? Least we can be ourselves, apart from our faces. Suppose that was one way of testing the disguises." You giggled, handing back the phone out of your bag and, taking an earbud and a small, pencil-sized device off of him.

Quickly double checking that all remnants of your makeup were off his face, you exited the lift, Shay going to the right and taking his position at the security desk, with yourself going to left, joining the other two assistants outside Kenways office.

"Who are you?!" The redhead sat at the main desk several feet away from you asked rather abruptly without even looking up, her long nails that were clacking on her keyboard making you wince.

"Kandi. Last minute temp. Why are there three of us for one person?"

"Give it five minutes, and you'll know. You better be good." She huffed.

It didn't even take that long before Charles stomped out of Haythams office with a tower of files in his arms, splitting it in two and dumping a pile on yours, and the rest on the other smaller desk with an evil grin.

"You know the drill. Make sure the new one keeps up."

"Yes, Mr Lee." The redhead chanted miserably, not bothering to glance up from her computer.

Grabbing the topmost file and flipping it open, you groaned as you recognised its contents, which was page after page of minutes from meetings that all needed typing up, in Lee's almost illegible handwriting.

This was going to be a looooong day.

#assassin's creed #assassinscreed #modern au #fanfic #reader insert #shay cormac #haytham kenway #shay cormac x reader #sfw

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ronaldsmcrae86 · 3 years

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36 Underrated Ways to Find PAID Freelance Writing Jobs in 2021

Whether you’re a seasoned freelance writer or a new writer with no experience, freelance writing jobs that pay are still plentiful in 2021 — if:

You know where to look…

You know how to promote yourself…

And you know how to differentiate yourself from your fellow writers.

That’s where we come in.

If you’re a copywriter, blogger, or any type of freelance writer who wants to earn a full-time or part-time income doing what you love, this definitive, A-to-Z guide will help you do just that.

Let’s dive in.

Chapter One: 6 Steps to Help You Prepare (& Land More Freelance Writing Gigs)

The philosopher Seneca (allegedly) said, “luck is what happens when practice meets opportunity.”

The book of Galatians in the Bible tells us we reap what we sow.

Stephen King put it this way:

“Talent is cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work.”

The common theme? Success tends to find those who are prepared for it.

As a writer, here are six things you should do to prepare for freelancing glory:

1. Create a Writing Portfolio That Kicks Butt

“Do you have writing samples?” “Can I see some of your freelance writing work?” “What are some high-quality articles you’ve written?”

As a freelance writer, you’ll hear questions like these often.

And your answer?

Here’s a link to my writing portfolio.

At least, that should be your answer. But unfortunately, many freelancers skip the whole “prove you actually know how to write” thing.

As Scott Weiland once sang, “let the proof be in the pudding, sugar.”

Don’t simply tell prospective clients that you’re a talented freelance writer. And don’t assume they already know you’re the cat’s meow and the bee’s knees.

Show them.

Further Reading: How to Create a Writing Portfolio That’ll Wow Potential Clients walks you through everything you need to craft an online portfolio of your work, from portfolio sites like Contently to using your own blog. It also offers tips for building a list of writing samples if your portfolio is a bit sparse.

2. Supercharge Your Writing Skills

Unless you want to spend your freelance writing career slumming through online content mills with entry-level job ads that pay peanuts, you need to level up your content creation skills.

Because those high-paying freelance content jobs you lay awake dreaming about? Companies don’t hand them to just anyone.

They give them to the best writers — content creators who:

Realize the importance of SEO (search engine optimization) and can create SEO content with both readers and Google in mind;

Understand the importance of proofreading and submitting error-free work;

Write fast, meet deadlines for their writing projects, and are seemingly immune to writer’s block;

Craft amazing headlines, write with clarity, and support their points with examples;

Have top-notch communication skills;

Can connect with readers on an emotional level.

The good news?

With hard work, anyone can improve their writing skills. And for the few who are willing to roll up their sleeves and do it, the payoff can be huge.

This site is filled with helpful how-to articles on copywriting, content writing, writing contests, content marketing, article writing, and SEO writing. And if you need training, we have that too.

Further Reading: 18 Writing Tips That’ll Actually Make You a Better Writer shares our favorite must-have skills for writers. Read it, bookmark it, and come back to it again and again.

3. Ask for Testimonials

Have you already landed a writing job or two? Awesome.

Did you ask the client to give you a testimonial? A few words declaring their undying love and/or satisfaction with your work (that you can use to help you land more writing clients)?

No? Well, you’re not alone.

Most writers who do freelance work, either due to ignorance or fear, don’t ask for testimonials. Our own Jon Morrow says he’s only had a small handful of writers over the years ask him for a testimonial — even though he would’ve been perfectly happy to give one to them.

So how should you ask for one? Keep it simple.

Here’s how Karen MacKenzie asked for a testimonial after we published her first post on Smart Blogger:

“Would it be possible to get a testimonial for my website? I know you are really busy, but I’d really appreciate it.”

And because Karen did such a good job on her post, I was happy to give her the following testimonial:

Karen offers everything I look for in a freelance writer: Her work is excellent, she finishes on time (if not ahead of schedule), and her attention to detail is wonderful. I enjoyed working with her so much that, as soon as her first article was completed, I asked her if she’d like to write for us again. I happily recommend her.

Want a great testimonial like Karen’s?

Create testimonial-worthy content for your clients and then — this is key — ask them for a freakin’ testimonial.

Note: You can count me among the poor, unfortunate souls who missed out on Jon’s generosity. Before becoming Smart Blogger’s Editor-in-Chief, I was a freelancer. I wrote five posts for Smart Blogger as a freelance writer, which means I passed on five opportunities for Jon to say nice things about me. Don’t repeat my mistakes — ask for testimonials at every opportunity.

4. Learn How to Craft a Killer Author Bio

Picture it:

A wealthy business owner sitting in a Herman Miller chair on top of a rug made out of recycled Herman Miller chairs is reading an article you’ve written.

She’s impressed. She calls to her butler, Jeeves, and asks him to bring one of her suitcases filled with money.

Your article is so good, she wants to hire you.

But then she gets to your byline — the one you threw together at the last minute. The one that lists your hobbies and has no clear call to action.

“Throw the suitcase in the fire, Jeeves,” she says. “I shan’t be hiring a writer today.”

If you don’t want this totally realistic scenario to happen to you, you need to get really good at writing author bios.

Why?

Because someone who’s made it to your author bio is primed. They’ve read your work and want to learn about the attractive, intelligent individual who wrote it.

Maybe they want to check out your website content. Maybe they want to find you on social media so they can follow you.

Or maybe they want your contact info so they can hire you.

A byline should shout to the world your expertise. It should say to prospective clients, “if you thought this article was great, you should hire me and see what I can do for you.”

Taking the time to craft a great one is time well spent.

Further Reading: How to Write a Bio Like a Superhero (Easy 3-Part Process) will show you the step-by-step process for crafting bylines that’ll make rich people want to give you suitcases full of money.

5. Know How to Write a Pitch

Few people enjoy cold pitching to prospective clients.

But you know what?

The job seekers who are willing to do it have an edge. And the ones who are good at it — and I mean really freakin’ good at it — are never more than an email or two away from snagging a new writing job.

So how do you get really freakin’ good at cold pitches? For starters, don’t make these rookie mistakes:

Don’t write long emails. Editors and clients are busy. Respect their time.

Don’t send the exact same pitch to different people. Every editor and every client has unique needs, audiences, and styles.

Don’t ignore their guidelines. Want a sure-fire way to have your email deleted? Pitch to a website that has clearly stated submission guidelines, but ignore said guidelines.

But just as importantly, do these things:

Research. Do your homework.

Find the name of the person you’re pitching to. Address the person by name in your email.

Get to the point. Don’t beat around the bush. Tell them what you want and why.

Sell them on you. Popular websites receive pitches all the time. Why should they hire you? Explain it to them.

These pointers and more (as well as email templates) can be found in our post, How to Write a Pitch That’ll Wow Editors & Clients.

Read it, bookmark it, and reference it often.

6. Learn the Legal Side of Freelancing

One of the big, scary unknowns when you’re working online is how to handle the “legal side” of things.

Should you have contracts with your freelance clients? How do you send invoices? What about taxes?

The legalities can seem so scary and daunting that many freelance writers choose to stick their heads in the sand and ignore them — or, worse, give up on their freelancing dreams rather than have to deal with any of it.

That’s why we put together this resource:

The Definitive Guide to Freelance Contracts, Invoices, & Taxes

If you’re a freelance writer or any kind of self-employed contractor, it’s a resource you’ll want to bookmark.

Chapter Two: 16 Hacks for Finding Under-the-Radar Writing Opportunities

Anyone can find a job board and search for a freelance writing job.

But that’s both a good and bad thing — anyone can do it.

That awesome writing job you found online? The one you’d be perfect for? Fifty other “perfect” people found it too.

We’ll go over some great job board options in a moment (because they do have lots to offer new freelance writers), but first, we’ll take a trip down the road less traveled.

By knowing how to identify hidden opportunities many of your fellow freelancers don’t know about (or do know about, but are too lazy to pursue), you can find writing jobs from well-paying clients who fly under the radar.

For example, did you know you could…

1. Use Twitter to Reverse-Engineer Online Writing Jobs

Want an outside-the-box way to find writing job opportunities?

Try Twitter’s advanced search engine.

In the example below, I searched for tweets that included the phrase “writer wanted”:

I kept the search simple, but I could’ve also searched by language (native English, Spanish, etc.), hashtags, date range, and more. The more options you choose, the more refined your search results.

Click “Search” and you’ll see a list of tweets with various job postings for writers:

Scroll through the list and tweak your job search, as needed.

Some of the results will be scams, but most will be legitimate. Many will be for remote writing jobs, but some will be location-specific (usually New York, Los Angeles, Seattle, San Francisco, Miami, Washington D.C., Dallas, Saint Paul, Minneapolis, Portland, Oklahoma City, Greenville, Atlanta, and other major cities in the United States). Just skip over the ones that don’t apply to you.

If you look at “Top” tweets, as shown in the screenshot above, you’ll find brand-new freelance jobs mixed with older ones. Click “Latest” if you want to see recent tweets first.

Tip: When you find a tweet for a job that shows promise, click Twitter’s like/heart icon. That way you’ll be able to easily find your shortlisted tweets later.

The nice thing about Twitter’s advanced search feature is it’s only limited by your imagination.

Want to find guest blogging opportunities (since many websites these days pay for guest posts)? Enter “guest post” into the “this exact phrase” option and you’ll see every tweet written by someone looking to promote their latest guest blogging masterpiece.

That’ll give you a list of websites that accept guest posts, which you can later whittle down (after you’ve done a little more research) into a list of sites that pay guest writers.

Wash, rinse, and repeat.

2. Follow Leads on Social Media

When you use Twitter’s advanced search feature for finding freelance writing jobs online, you’ll discover certain Twitter handles pop up fairly frequently.

One example is @write_jobs:

When you find a good lead, follow them. That way you can cut through the noise of Twitter and go straight to your best sources.

Even better?

Add them to a private Twitter list so that tweets from all your leads can be found in one handy repository.

Here’s how you do it:

Here are a few more handles to get your Twitter list started:

@FreelanceWJ

@WhoPaysWriters

@jjobs_tweets

3. Check Out Agency Job Postings

Everyone likes to talk about job boards (which, again, we’ll discuss in a moment). But you know what resource most freelance writers ignore?

Agencies.

Per Jon:

One of the best potential clients is agencies because they usually have an ongoing need for writers. Instead of only getting paid once, you can develop a relationship with a few and get new freelance blogging gigs for months or even years into the future. How to Become a Freelance Writer, Starting from Scratch

So how can you get work from agencies? Well, you could contact them directly and ask if they have any freelance work (Jon calls this a “gutsy but effective approach”).

The other way is to keep checking their “career” page:

The Content Marketing Institute maintains a detailed database of agencies. Click here to check it out.

4. Find (and Woo) Clients on Their Turf

Most articles that tout social media as a good place to find leads will point you to Facebook Groups.

And it makes sense. After all, search Facebook for “writing jobs”, click the “Groups” tab, and you’ll see dozens and dozens of options that are open to the public:

If you’re looking for a safe space where like-minded individuals offer tips, advice, and writing inspiration; such groups are great.

But if you’re looking to find paying gigs, you’ll likely be left wanting.

Most members of these groups are looking to be hired, not looking to hire writers. And when someone wanting to hire a writer does come along, the person who raises their hand first is usually the one who gets the job.

That’s not to say Facebook Groups can’t lead to writing jobs that pay. The trick is you need to find groups where the buyers, not the sellers, hang out.

Think “masterminds”, “think tanks”, etc.

Of course, that’s easier said than done. Such groups are usually private. So, what’s a writer to do?

Skip the Facebook Groups. Go Straight to the Sources.

One of the amazing things about technology is the way it allows us to connect and interact with people with whom we’d otherwise never have the opportunity.

In 2014, I didn’t know Adam Connell of Blogging Wizard. But I joined his mailing list and, lo and behold, a “welcome” email with his address arrived in my inbox. I responded, he wrote me back, and a friendship was born.

After reading one of her posts and admiring her writing style, I connected with Henneke Duistermaat of Enchanting Marketing through a humble blog comment. The same was true with Syed Balkhi. I connected with Pamela Wilson via Twitter. For Jon Morrow, the man who would one day hire me at Smart Blogger, I got on his radar by becoming a student in one of his online courses.

Want to write for a mover and shaker in your industry? Want to befriend an influencer who can open doors for you (the kind of doors that lead to paying jobs)?

Make a connection. Be generous. Give without asking or expecting anything in return.

That means following them on Twitter, sharing their content, and interacting with them. It means subscribing to their email list.

And, yes, it may mean buying one of their products. Because here’s the thing:

When you’re their student, an influencer is invested in your future. Your success is their success. You’re a walking, talking testimonial. So many — not all, but many — will do everything they can to help you succeed.

And that includes pointing leads in your direction.

5. Pitch to Software Company Blogs

More from Jon:

You want to work with businesses that have money to spend on marketing. Chances are, those companies are subscribed to various apps for email marketing, analytics, and so on. Most software companies in the marketing space (like HubSpot, Sumo, PayPal, Ahrefs, etc.) also publish a great deal of content. So, who better to write for? You’re instantly getting in front of thousands of the right clients. Many of these blogs will also pay you to write for them, so in many cases, you can get your first client while also prospecting for clients.

e-Commerce companies with blogs tend to publish a lot of content. After all, every article they publish tends to pay for itself (and then some) thanks to the traffic it brings to the website — traffic that often leads to sales of their product.

As with agencies, you can either cold pitch the software companies (which sometimes works), or you can keep an eye out for open freelance positions:

6. Don’t Be Scared of Ghostwriting

A lot of writers don’t like the idea of ghostwriting.

I get it. You’re letting someone else put their name on and take credit for your hard work.

You mean I get to spend weeks pouring my heart and soul into a piece of content, infusing every syllable with my very essence to the point I no longer know where I begin and my words end, and no one will ever know I wrote it?

Yes, that’s ghostwriting in a nutshell (minus the theatrics). But here’s the thing:

Ghostwriting pays better than regular freelance writing. When you ghostwrite, it’s not unheard of to increase your fee by 15%-20% (or more).

The opportunities in ghostwriting are virtually endless. You could ghostwrite blog posts, articles, scripts used on YouTube channels, or even books sold on Amazon.

You can make great freelance writing business relationships by ghostwriting. People who pay for ghostwriters tend to have money (and connections). Oftentimes, these clients can refer you to others.

If your primary goal is to build up a strong list of writing samples, ghostwriting isn’t for you.

But if your goal is to make money writing and build potentially profitable business relationships, it’s something to consider.

And here’s the best part:

Because so many freelance writers loathe ghostwriting, there isn’t as much competition.

Editor’s Note: These next few freelance writing hacks come courtesy of Smart Blogger Certified Content Marketer Germano Silveira.

7. Find Clients Who are Already Hiring Successful Freelance Writers in Your Niche

Want to write for great clients in your niche who pay top dollar?

Well, you can either wait until they post job ads, then compete against everyone else who applies…

Or you can take initiative and proactively seek out these ideal clients.

One of the best places to find ideal clients is in the portfolios of successful freelance writers in your niche.

By studying other writers’ sample content, you can identify clients they’ve worked with in the past.

These clients are ideal targets because:

You already know they hire freelance writers;

You know they have years of experience working with freelancers, so they’ll be easier to work with;

And you know they pay decent wages, otherwise the successful freelance writer wouldn’t work with them.

Start by finding freelance writers in your niche. You can find them by Googling “[YOUR NICHE] + freelance writer” like so:

Scroll through the search results until you see a freelance writer’s website. These writing sites don’t always rank highly, so you may have to go through several pages of search results to find them.

Click on a writer’s website and check out their portfolio. There you’ll find links to articles the freelance writer wrote for various companies in your niche.

Click on a writing sample and visit the client’s website to make sure you’d be interested in writing for them. If everything looks good, add them to your list of potential targets.

Do this over and over again for every freelance writer you find in your search. When you’re done, you should have a big list of ideal clients to target.

Pick one client to target and visit their website.

Study their content to get an idea of what they publish. Pay close attention to their most popular content, as well as the article the freelance writer wrote for them. These will give you a good idea of what type of content to pitch.

Check their website for submission guidelines, which will give you a better sense of what they’re looking for from freelance writers and tell you who to send your pitch to.

Use all of this reconnaissance to brainstorm ideas for good articles to pitch them. Pick your best idea, develop it into a pitch, and send it in.

8. Apprentice With a Successful Writer in Your Niche

Another way to get work from established freelance writers is to build a mutually-beneficial partnership with them.

Many successful freelance writers need help with certain aspects of their business. They could use someone to do their research, proofreading, copy editing jobs, etc.

Of course, they could pay a professional writer or do these tasks themselves. But most would prefer to have someone do it for free.

That’s where you come in.

By offering free assistance to a successful freelancer in your niche, you can save them time and help them make more money in exchange for steady work and writing experience.

Often, successful freelance writers have to turn down work because the client can’t afford to pay their rate. Instead, they can pass this work off to you and split the earnings (again, more money in their pocket).

They can also help you by critiquing your work, giving you tips on how to succeed in the industry, and endorsing you to editors.

Once they trust you and you’ve proven yourself as a writer, they may also let you do some assignments for them.

Successful digital marketing entrepreneur Dan Lok got his start in the copywriting industry this way — by apprenticing with his copywriting mentor Alan Jacques:

“Why did this work out so well? It wasn’t worth Alan’s time for that price, but it was worth my time, because I wanted the experience. I needed clients to gain experience and get better. I got my clients with his endorsement and supervision.” — Dan Lok

So how do you start such an arrangement?

It’s not easy, and there’s no direct path. But your best bet is to buy one of their courses or products. As mentioned earlier, when you become their student, they become invested in your success.

You can also try:

Getting an introduction from someone who knows them;

Connecting with them on social and building a relationship;

Creating a piece of content (perhaps copy for a landing page?) they could use and giving it to them for free.

9. Reverse-Engineer Writing Samples From Job Ads

Ultimately, most clients don’t care about your experience or credentials. They just want a freelance writer who can complete their assignment and get results.

Your job is to convince them YOU are that freelance writer.

And the best way to convince them you can do the assignment is… to do the assignment.

Most job ads ask for relevant writing samples. When applying to these ads, most freelancers provide similar writing samples.

In other words, they provide articles they wrote for another client that sort of match what the ad is looking for, but not really. Unless they’ve written for an identical client before, their writing samples will be a bit off.

You can immediately differentiate yourself from other applicants and increase your odds of getting hired by creating a writing sample tailor-made for each client.

Start by finding job ads on job sites like Upwork.

Don’t just look for any old job. Get specific with your search criteria to find ideal jobs — jobs that are in your niche, about subjects that interest you, and offer to pay premium prices.

When you come across an ideal job description, study it from top to bottom. Make note of everything the client is looking for in a writer and the assignment.

Then brainstorm ideas for articles that perfectly match what the client wants. If necessary, research tactics and techniques for creating such content.

For example, in the screenshot above, the client is seeking someone who can “write about boring, dry, technical topics.” You could Google, “how to write about boring topics”, then apply what you find to your sample article.

Select your strongest idea and write it. Try to pick a short, simple idea that won’t take too much time to write. Otherwise, the client may hire someone else before you finish.

Finally, apply to the job and submit your tailor-made content as a writing sample. You can either publish the article on a free site like Medium or submit it with your application as a Microsoft Word or Google Doc.

The best part of this strategy?

Even if the client doesn’t hire you, you’ll still walk away with a strong writing sample to add to your portfolio. And if you repeat this process, you’ll quickly build a portfolio of writing samples that are super-relevant to your ideal clients.

10. Pitch Every Service You’ve Used in the Last Year

If you’re a beginner freelance writer, one of the best places to find writing gigs is with the companies/products you already use.

They make great potential clients because:

You’re already familiar with the product/service;

You’re in their target market, so writing for their audience is easier;

You already have a relationship with these large and small businesses.

In fact, you should include these points in your pitch.

Start by making a list of every product/service you’ve used in the last year. This can include gyms, hair salons, landscapers, etc.

Visit their websites and perform a content audit:

Are there problems with their web copy you could offer to improve?

Do they have a regularly-updated blog? Could you contribute to it in an impactful way? Could you help them target certain keywords with their content?

Basically, you’re trying to match the services you offer with the content they need.

While you may be able to convince these companies to start a blog, the best targets are companies that understand the importance of content marketing and invest in it accordingly.

Once you’ve identified your targets and how you can help them, send an email to someone on their marketing team offering your services.

Your pitch should mention you’ve used their product/service and love it, as well as the fact you’re a member of their target market and will be able to effectively influence their audience.

Offer to work for a price you think they can afford, based on your research. You may not get paid top-dollar initially, but the real goal is to establish a working relationship, get steady work, and contribute to your portfolio.

By sending out 30 such emails, Julie Wilson was able to generate over $1,000 in her first month employing this strategy.

11. Write Tutorials for Products You’ve Used

This tip is similar to the previous one in that you’ll be soliciting a business you’re familiar with.

However, this technique differs because it involves writing articles on spec — creating articles for free before you pitch them.

Make a list of products you’ve used that fall into your freelance writing niche. For example, if you want to become a SaaS writer, make a list of software you use or have used in the past.

Visit the websites of these companies to determine if they’re good prospects. Look for companies with well-established, regularly-updated blogs.

Check to see if they have submission guidelines, which will give you information on the type of content they’re looking for and let you know if they hire freelance writers and/or accept guest posts.

Then write a tutorial (that includes a thorough product description) on how to use their product to achieve a desired result. If possible, create a case study describing the results you achieved with the product and how you did so.

Contact someone in the company via email or LinkedIn. Tell them you’re about to publish the article on Medium (or some other blog) and were wondering if:

They want to publish it on their blog instead;

They’d be willing to share and/or link to the article once you’ve published it.

Even if they don’t buy the article, you’ll add another writing sample to your portfolio while establishing a relationship with a potential client who may keep you in mind for future work.

12. Find and Fix Weak/Old Content

By now, we’ve established the benefit of demonstrating your value to potential clients in advance.

Another way to demonstrate value is by improving their weak, flawed, or outdated content.

You’d be surprised by how many influential, well-established organizations have flawed web content.

Often, these organizations are so preoccupied with creating new content they overlook small errors or forget to update their content to meet new developments.

That’s where you come in.

By identifying weak spots and fixing them for free, you can establish a relationship with a potential client that gets your foot in the door.

Of course, you shouldn’t just visit hundreds of random websites hoping to find bad copy or content. Think of how time-consuming and unbearably boring that would be.

Instead, make a list of 10 to 20 blogs, companies, or influencers you’d most like to write for.

Visit their websites, analyze their content, and make note of areas you can improve.

Look for older content that could use an update. For example, a headline like “How to be a freelance writer in 2016” is a great candidate for modernization.

(On the other hand, something like “Google Authorship: The Complete Handbook for Getting Respect, Readers, and Rankings” wouldn’t work because its main topic, “Google authorship”, is no longer relevant.)

Dan Lok used a similar tactic to get work from guerrilla marketing guru Jay Conrad Levinson. Dan rewrote Jay’s entire sales pitch on spec and sent it to him. Not only did Jay use the updated sales copy and pay Dan for his spec work, but the new copy tripled Jay’s conversions!

Maybe you’re not a copywriting expert like Dan. But if you find a website with weak or unremarkable sales copy, you could try researching the subject and giving it a shot. At the very least, this makes for good practice.

Once you’ve identified and updated your content, send an email to your target explaining what you did.

Tell them you came across their website or blog article, noticed some flaws, and thought you could help them out by improving it.

While they may offer to pay you for your work like Jay did, I don’t recommend trying to sell it to them.

The true power of this tactic is you’re establishing a relationship by being helpful and demonstrating value upfront. And it works best when done for free.

Trying to sell them your work can come off as opportunistic, arrogant, and reduce the chances they’ll bite.

But if you help them for free and they like your work, they may decide to pay you (like Jay did) and/or keep you in mind for future assignments.

13. Dominate Quora

Quora is a social media platform where users can post questions and get answers from other users.

Whether or not you get clients from Quora, it’s an insanely useful marketing platform for writers that allows you to:

Connect with people in your niche in a helpful way and demonstrate your expertise;

Show potential clients you can write for their audience;

Generate long-term traffic from each answer you post (popular Quora questions and answers often get ranked in Google);

Establish yourself as an authority in your niche and build an audience, both of which make you more attractive to potential clients.

Networking on Quora can be an effective, albeit indirect, method for getting freelance writing jobs online.

The essence of a Quora marketing strategy is this:

Find questions that are relevant to your niche; provide helpful, in-depth answers that demonstrate your writing skill; and advertise your writing services in your profile.

Start by creating a stellar Quora profile.

Treat your Quora profile like your freelance business website. You should include your position as a freelance writer, a high-quality profile picture, a description of the benefits of your services, and links to your writing samples and website.

In the “Credentials & Highlights” section, list all of the credentials and experiences that reinforce your position as an authority in your niche.

In the “Knows About” section, be sure to include topics related to your writing niche as well as your role as a freelance writer (SEO, content marketing, blogging, and so on).

Next, find and follow trending topics related to your writing niche as well as the type of content you create (articles, content marketing, email copy, web copy, etc.).

When your profile is all set up and ready to go, start searching for questions relevant to your writing niche. “Relevant questions” include questions that are of interest to potential clients and/or their audience.

You can find relevant questions either by clicking on a Topic and scanning for them, or by typing relevant keywords into the search bar.

When you come across a relevant question, bookmark it in the “Answer Later” section for easy access.

Finally, write phenomenal answers to your saved questions.

Your answers should be helpful. They should answer all parts of the question in the best way possible. And you should include links to additional resources if and when necessary.

Your answers should tell stories. Stories are not only a great way to engage readers and increase views, they also help readers learn and retain information better.

Your answers should incorporate visuals. Visuals break up your text and make your answers more visually appealing and easier to read.

Be sure to link to your writing samples when possible. In fact, whenever you publish a new article, you should spend some time finding and answering Quora questions related to it as a way to drive traffic.

Regularly answer questions to build your Quora audience and views. You’ll increase your position as an authority in your niche, increase your value to clients by building an audience, and potentially get freelance work from employers who come across your answers.

14. Offer Referral Deals

If they like your work, most clients will happily refer you to others.

But some clients may be reticent to refer you to others because they want to keep you to themselves.

Other clients simply require a bit of motivation.

A simple way to provide this motivation is to sweeten the pot with a referral deal.

Tell clients that for every referral they send your way that turns into a job, you’ll create one free piece of content for them.

Even though you’ll waste some work hours on free work, you’ll more than make up for it with the steady stream of new clients you get.

Short. Sweet. And simple.

Just remember:

It’s important you honor your word.

If a client finds out they referred you to someone, you got the job, and you reneged on your end of the deal, your relationship with the client will end and your reputation as a writer will be tarnished.

15. Monitor Companies That are Hiring for Content Marketing Roles

When you see an ad for a content marketing role, a “job opportunity flag” should be raised in your head.

A new content marketing hire is a sign a company is either investing more in content marketing or changing its content marketing strategy.

It can also simply mean they’re filling a vacant position.

Either way, a new hire still signifies a change in strategy. And it’s likely they’ll need more content and more help creating that content.

Rather than waiting for the company to post an ad for freelance writers (like those other lazy freelancers), take the initiative and demonstrate value upfront.

Reach out to the company (or even their new hire) and offer your help executing their new strategy.

First, use LinkedIn to monitor job ads seeking content producers and marketers.

With LinkedIn, you can use filters to narrow your search by job role, job type, and industry.

You’ll want to filter out any companies that aren’t in your writing niche using the “Industry” filter. If you write for software companies, limit your search to software companies.

It’s also best to limit your search to top-level content marketing roles. Top-level hires are the best indication a company is investing in a new content marketing strategy and increasing content production.

To filter for top-level roles, use keywords like “Content Marketing Strategist”, “Content Marketing Manager”, “Content Marketing Specialist”, “Head of Content Marketing”, etc. You can also use LinkedIn’s “Experience” and “Title” filters to narrow your search to top-level positions.

The best part about using LinkedIn for this strategy is you can set a job alert and have new job ads emailed to you. No need to waste time running new job searches over and over again in order to find job openings. Just set it and forget it.

Next, read the job ads to get a sense of the opportunity potential.

If the job ad indicates the company will be producing lots of new content, you know they’ll be a good source of potential work. Often the ad will say something like, “we’re looking to ramp up our content marketing efforts.”

Keep an eye out for any information on the new direction of their content strategy. If the ad says they’re looking to use written content to build authority in their niche, then make note of it. You’ll use it later in your pitch.

Once you’ve identified a few good prospects, it’s time to start crafting your pitch.

A great pitch should include:

1. An introduction that aligns you with their goals.

You might say something like, “I understand you’re looking to build authority with your blog and I think I can help.” This shows you’ve read their ad and understand what they want to achieve.

2. An article written on spec that you’ll let them publish for free.

This demonstrates your value and writing abilities upfront. It’s also a great way to start a positive relationship by giving them something of value for free.

3. A list of 5 to 10 article ideas you think they’ll like.

This demonstrates your ability to regularly produce great content ideas and will be a valuable asset to their new strategy.

Finally, send them your pitch.

It’s best to send your idea to the newbie hire once they’ve filled the role — the new hire will be most receptive because they’re new to the company, eager to make a good impression, and stand to benefit most from bringing a talented freelancer on board.

While this tactic takes a bit of effort, the potential for steady, long-term work makes it worthwhile.

16. Use an Ad Fishing Strategy

Ad Fishing is a technique that involves using Facebook or LinkedIn ads to target warm leads.

For simplicity, we’ll describe how to employ this strategy on Facebook, but the process for LinkedIn is identical.

To perform this strategy, you’ll need:

A Facebook Page;

Your own website/blog with the Facebook Pixel installed;

A case study describing how you helped a client achieve a certain result with your content marketing.

First, you’ll need a case study that demonstrates the value of your freelance writing.

Your case study should describe a positive result you helped a client achieve and the process you used for doing so. The positive result could be as simple as helping them boost monthly web traffic with a blog post.

Make sure your case study has a killer, benefit-oriented headline. For example:

“How I Got 10k New Monthly Visitors for a Client With One Blog Post”

The case study should also include a CTA (call to action) at the end inviting readers to contact you if they want similar results.

Next, create a “Bait Article” — an article your target clients will want to read.

For example, if you want to work with health care companies, you could create an article titled “7 Ways Health Care Companies Can Generate More Web Traffic”.

Promote the article wherever your target clients hang out. Post it in relevant Facebook Groups. Link to it in answers to relevant Quora questions. Or, simply promote it to your targets using Facebook Ads.

Finally, create a Retargeting Ad sharing your case study with anyone who reads the “Bait Article”.

The essence of this strategy is to use the “Bait Article” to find and qualify warm leads — people in your target market who want the results you can help them achieve.

Then you hook those warm leads with a case study that clearly demonstrates how you can help them achieve the desired result.

Because the ad only targets a small number of qualified leads, ad spend will be low and ROI (return on investment) will be high.

Chapter Three: 14 Writing Job Boards That are Packed with Writing Opportunities

Next up, let’s look at some popular (and some under-the-radar) job boards used by freelance writers all over the world.

If you’re new to freelancing, job boards will likely be your easiest entry point. You’ll be able to find writing jobs of all shapes and sizes.

Once you have some writing samples under your belt and you begin getting good referrals from clients, more opportunities will become available to you.

Let’s start with possibly the biggest one:

1. LinkedIn Jobs

If you’re a professional, there’s a good chance you already have a LinkedIn profile (even if, like me, you tend to forget about it for months at a time).

Its job board, as you would expect from a site that specializes in professional networking, is huge.

How huge?

Well, at the time of this writing, there are over 35,000 job postings for “copywriter” alone:

Thankfully, LinkedIn offers lots of filters. Search by date, the job’s industry, the job type (full-time jobs, part-time writing jobs, etc.), experience level, and more.

If you’re already on LinkedIn, it’s a good place to start.

2. Upwork

Depending on who you talk to, Upwork (formerly Elance-oDesk) is either awful or amazing. And the funny thing is, the reasons for its awfulness and amazingness are one and the same: low rates.

Employers love Upwork because you can typically find qualified applicants who live in areas with lower cost of living. As a result, they can get great work at reduced costs.

Those who hate Upwork do so because they’re competing with the aforementioned applicants who can comfortably live on less money.

So what does this mean for freelance writers?

Unless you’re content with low-paying rates (because you need the practice, you want to build up your portfolio, you need all the work you can get, etc.), you’re better off with one of the other job boards mentioned.

3. ProBlogger

As its name would suggest, the ProBlogger Job Board is a popular one among bloggers in search of freelance writing work and blogger jobs.

With a $70 starting price for posting a job, you tend to find smaller companies on ProBlogger. There are exceptions, of course.

One neat feature offered by ProBlogger is a Candidate Database employers can search to find writers. It’s free for writers to join, and you can use it as an online resume and sales page. Here’s an example from Smart Blogger student Mark Tong:

4. BloggingPro

BloggingPro requires clients to publish job ads that pay a minimum of $15 an hour (or have at least 500 words).

Job categories are blogging, content writing jobs, copywriting, and journalism. And types of work include contract, freelance, full-time, part-time, internship, and temporary.

As job boards not named LinkedIn or Indeed go, it’s pretty detailed.

5. FlexJobs

FlexJobs specializes in all types of online jobs and remote work, including remote jobs for writers. It isn’t free, but you get a lot for your money.

For starters, you’re safe from scams — each job posting is vetted by an actual human. You also don’t have to hunt for work from home jobs that’ll allow you to write in your pajamas — all online writing job ads (from blog posts to white papers to press releases to academic writing) are for remote positions. It’s kind of their thing.

Plans start at $14.95 per month. There’s a 30-day money-back guarantee, which means you can try it out, see if there are any promising writing jobs, and cancel if you don’t like what you see.

6. Freelance Writers Den

Founded by Carol Tice, the Freelance Writers Den is a paid membership site with a long track record.

Unlike most job boards, you also get bonuses. There are over 300 hours of training material, pitch examples, templates, and monthly live events.

Membership is $25 per month with no contract. You can cancel anytime and not pay the next month’s dues. There’s also a 7-day money-back guarantee when you first join.

7. Who Pays Writers?

According to its website, Who Pays Writers? is “an anonymous, crowd-sourced list of which publications pay freelance writers — and how much.”

Translation: Once you’re ready to write for a high-profile publication that’ll look amazing on your portfolio, Who Pays Writers? will be a helpful resource you can use to discover which publications accept applications (and how much they tend to pay per word).

It’s definitely one you should bookmark.

8. FreelanceWriting.com

Curating the best writing jobs that Indeed, Craigslist, BloggingPro, and others have to offer (as well as their own, exclusive writing opportunities); freelancewriting.com is a one-step resource for freelancers.

Not all job listings are for remote writing jobs, but you can filter the ads to fit your needs. Categories include blogging and marketing jobs (WordPress, SEO, content manager, content strategist for startups, etc.), writing (freelance copywriter, staff writer, short stories, article writer, non-fiction writer, creative writer, grant writer, medical writer, healthcare report writer, real estate writer, personal finance writer, creative content writer, script writer for podcasts, etc.), proofreading (writer/editor, copy editor, content editor, proofreader, etc.), journalism, non-profit gigs, copywriting jobs, social media (marketing manager, social media manager, etc.), and technical writing (technical writer, proposal writer, cover letters, service writer, resume writer, etc.).

If you’d like to keep your list of remote job boards short, freelancewriting.com is a good one to keep on it.

9. Freelance Writing Jobs

Freelance Writing Jobs curates blogging jobs from Craigslist, Indeed, Journalism Jobs, MediaBistro, and others.

Every week day, Monday through Friday, they publish a short list of hand-picked job ads. So, if you prefer quality content over quantity, it’s worth a bookmark.

10. Be a Freelance Blogger

Owned and operated by a Smart Blogger student, Sophie Lizard’s job board keeps things pretty simple: if you want to publish a job ad on Be a Freelance Blogger, it has to pay at least $0.10 per word or $50 per post.

If you’re just starting out, it’s definitely worth looking into.

11. Behance Creative Jobs

Though it’s primarily known for its portfolio features, Adobe’s Behance has a job board for creatives of all shapes and sizes.

Job listings for everything from advertising to public relations to freelance writing can be found, making it a solid resource for all kinds of freelancers.

12. Constant Content

Constant Content is a freelance writing platform that facilitates connections between brands and writers. You register for an account, complete a quiz, provide a short writing sample, and — once you’ve been accepted — start applying for writing jobs.

The brands they work with include Uber, Zulily, The Home Depot, Walgreens, Hayneedle, CVS, and eBay; and they claim their top writers earn up to $90,000 per year.

13. Journalism Jobs

If you want to target magazines and newspapers, Journalism Jobs is a great resource. With close to 3 million page views each month, it’s the largest resource for news writers and journalism jobs on the web.

So, if publications are your focus, it should be on your short list.

14. Copify

Copify is a different kind of freelance writing job board. First, you apply for membership. Once you’re in, you can take writing jobs when and if it suits you.

Its aim is to provide you “hassle-free” freelance writing opportunities. So, there are no contracts or commitments, and no need to submit bids or proposals. If you value simplicity, Copify could be a good fit.

Free Class: Want to make real, tangible money online as a freelance writer? Check out Smart Blogger’s Six-Figure Freelance Writing Class. You’ll get instant access to the first video when you sign up.

Chapter Four: Common Freelance Writing Questions (& Answers)

Still have questions? Don’t worry. It’s perfectly normal.

We’ll wrap things up with a quick FAQ.

Here are the common questions we receive from freelance writers. (If you have a question not discussed here, be sure to leave a comment below!)

You should also check out our Freelance Writing Hub. From elevating your writing skills to getting paid to write, it’s a go-to resource for everything you need to know about freelancing.

Now on to the Q&A…

What is freelance content writing?

Freelance writers are self-employed contractors who are hired by clients to create content for them. The type of content ranges from production descriptions to email copy to full-fledged eBooks — and everything in between.

What do you do as a freelance writer?

Well, hopefully, you write. A lot.

But you also:

Proofread and edit

Market and network

Hone your craft

Send invoices, do taxes, and other administrative tasks

Find paying gigs

And speaking of looking for work:

How do freelance writers find work?

How freelance writers land gigs tend to vary based on their experience writing. When you have a good body of work, you’ll get many of your blog writer jobs through referrals and repeat customers. As a result, if you’re an experienced writer, you typically make more money.

So, when you first start writing, you’ll need to be proactive. The job boards we discussed earlier will likely be where you have the most success initially. And don’t forget about the outside-the-box, under-the-radar strategies we discussed. You can find success with those too.

How much do freelance writers make?

When you’re just starting out, you’ll likely be in the $0.10 to $0.15 per word range. But, as you grow, you can command $500, $1,000, and more per article.

Once you have a body of work and you can prove you get results for clients, your pay increases.

How do freelance writers get paid?

Every client will have their own methods for paying writers, but typically you’ll submit an invoice via a service like PayPal, Stripe, or TransferWise.

Make sure you understand the payment terms before you begin work. If you’re unsure, ask the client.

How much do you charge for a 500 word article? How much should I charge for a 1000 word article?

Using the $0.10 to $0.15 per word range we just discussed, as a new freelance writer you can expect to earn between $50 and $75 for a 500-word article.

For a 1,000-word article, a new freelancer could expect to earn between $100 and $150.

But again, as time goes on, your rate should be higher.

How much does a freelance writer make per hour?

It depends.

Most clients will pay freelance writers by word count or individual project. For such clients, your hourly rate will depend on how fast you work.

But there is some data available to give you a broad (probably too broad) idea:

According to PayScale, the hourly range for freelance writers is $11.50 to $63.02. On average, the hourly rate is $24.07.

ZipRecruiter’s numbers are even broader. It says the hourly range is between $5.29 and $76.68 for freelance writers, with $30 being the national average in the United States.

Takes these numbers with a grain of salt, though.

How do you start freelance writing? How do I become a freelance writer with no experience?

Freelance writing experience or no, if you’re willing to accept lower-than-ideal pay rates on job boards, blog content mills, or freelance marketplaces (think Fiverr and Textbroker), you can get started right away. Find freelance job postings, apply to them, and get to work.

But big picture, the answer depends on which group do you belong to:

I’m a skilled writer, but I don’t yet have a body of work. Or,

my writing leaves a lot to be desired.

If you’re in the former group, focus on building a good writing portfolio. If you have your own website, publish articles on there. Medium is a good option too (and it’s free).

If you’re the latter, you really should focus on improving your writing skills. You can probably find work as you are, sure, but a portfolio filled with crappy articles won’t help you find good clients.

Our writing articles here at Smart Blogger can help you. So can the excellent writing content at Enchanting Marketing, Copyblogger, and others. And if you need formal training, the free class I mentioned earlier is well worth your time.

Can you be a freelance writer without a Bachelor’s degree (or even High School Diploma)?

Absolutely. I have a Master’s in Computer Science that I paid way too much money to acquire. Know how many times I’ve been asked by a potential client if I had a degree? Zero. Know how many times the word “degree” popped up when Jon was interviewing me for Smart Blogger? Zilch.

If you can do the work, you can do the work. A degree in creative writing, or lack of one, won’t matter.

Are “guest posts” the same thing as freelance writing jobs?

Semantics aside, yes.

With a guest post, you’re writing content for a website you don’t own, you’re credited as the author, and you get an author byline (or, at least you do with good guest post opportunities). With a freelance writing job, you’re writing content for a website you don’t own, you’re credited as the author (unless it’s a ghostwriter assignment), and you get an author byline (unless, again, you’re ghostwriting).

The only difference is compensation.

All freelance writing jobs will pay you money. With guest blogging, some blogs and websites pay writers to write guest posts for them; with others, you don’t receive monetary compensation, but you get perks like having your work seen by new audiences and beefing up your writing portfolio.

Do guest bloggers get paid?

Some do. As mentioned above, some websites pay writers to write guest posts for them.

To find out if a guest blogging opportunity is a paying one, you need to check their website. Look for a page named “editorial guidelines”, “guest posting guidelines”, “write for us”, or something similar.

Then (and this is important) you need to thoroughly read said guidelines.

If it’s a paying freelance writing gig, or even if it’s just an unpaid freelance writing opportunity for a popular website, you want to get your relationship with the target website off to a good start. And nothing will get your relationship off to a bad start quite like failing to read their guidelines.

Many websites, especially large ones that receive lots of inquiries, will use their editorial guidelines to eliminate sub-par candidates.

For example, here are a few of the guidelines Smart Blogger used to have in our since-retired “Write for Us” page:

On average, writing a post for us takes 10-20 hours from start to finish. re: the chances we'll accept your post

During our rigorous editing process your post may go through five or six drafts before we feel it is ready to publish.

If you prefer to deliver one draft and have it published pretty much as-is, this is not the blog for you. If you prefer not to have your ideas tested or your writing scrutinized, then again, this is not the blog for you. re: the grueling blog writing process

We like longer posts in the 2,000 – 3,000 word range. Don’t think of a 1,500 word post padded out. Think of a 5,000 post trimmed down to its essence. re: guest posting length guidelines

And, trust me, there was a lot more where that came from. Each paragraph, each sentence, was carefully designed to filter potential candidates.

Most blogs and websites won’t have such detailed guidelines. But they will have some guidelines (and if one doesn’t, it isn’t one you want to do business with).

Read the guidelines, follow them, and you’ll do fine.

What are the highest paying freelance writing jobs? What niche should I pursue if I want to make lots of money as a writer?

The list of profitable writing niches can change for a variety of reasons (just look at what the coronavirus did to the “travel” industry in 2020), but here’s an evergreen tip for finding high-paying gigs:

Follow the money.

If you see lots of job ads for freelance writing jobs in a particular niche, chances are the niche is profitable.

True, smart, and sophisticated businesses will continue to hire freelance writers and produce content during a recession (it pays off for them long-term), but unsophisticated clients will stop — unless they’re still making money.

This is a simple but effective hack for finding profitable niches.

To learn more, check out 17 Freelance Writing Niches That Still Pay Big Bucks.

Is freelance writing legit?

I’ll resist the urge to make an M.C. Hammer joke. Instead, I’ll simply say:

Yes, freelance writing is legit.

(You could almost say it’s too legit.)

Ready to Become a Successful Freelance Writer?

There may be lots of online writing jobs out there, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy out there.

Landing paid writing jobs is difficult. Getting started with a freelance career is difficult. But, that doesn’t mean it isn’t doable. It’s very doable.

With the tips and resources in this post, you’re now armed with knowledge. You know what steps you need to take in order to be prepared, you know under-the-radar places to look for opportunities, and you have a sizable list of freelance writing job boards from which to choose.

All that’s left is for you to take action.

Are you ready to get started? Ready to take a huge step towards quitting your day job and following your dream? Ready to find that first (or hundredth) paying assignment?

Then let’s do this thing.

The post 36 Underrated Ways to Find PAID Freelance Writing Jobs in 2021 appeared first on Smart Blogger.

from SEO and SM Tips https://smartblogger.com/freelance-writing-jobs/

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backyardmike · 4 years

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How To Measure A Chainsaw Bar And Chain

You’re looking to replace your chainsaw bar or chainsaw chain, but you don’t know what size you’ll need.

Simply guessing isn’t the best way. Instead, let me show you how to get the most accurate measurement on your chainsaw bar and chain. My guide here will be useful if you’ve lost your manual or just don’t know where to start with your measurements.

At the end of the guide, you’ll realize how easy it is to measure your chainsaw bar, so there’s no need for any vague and inaccurate estimations!

How to Measure A Chainsaw Bar

As you’re shopping for your chainsaw bar (also known as chainsaw blade or chainsaw guide), you’ll need to have two measurements in mind. They are the effective length and the true length.

Step 1: Safety First

Before you even start, the first thing to do is to shut your chainsaw. Remember to unplug its spark plug too (it’s on the rear of your chainsaw, hidden under the carburetor box).

Yes, you will have to remove the bolt that holds down the carburetor box to get to the spark plug. Turning your power tool off completely is essential, so it doesn’t turn on when you’re doing your measurement.

Step 2: Getting The Effective Cutting Length

This is the simplest type of measurement because the effective cutting length is really just the length of the bar.

This is the length from the tip of the blade to where the bar is actually attached to the chainsaw. It’s fairly easy to measure: all you need to do is place your tape measure at the base of the blade, going to the tip of the blade. You’ll measure just until the bar disappears into the chainsaw body in order to find the cutting length.

Remember to keep the chainsaw on a flat and steady surface in order to get the most accurate read.

You might not have an exact number by doing this, so no matter what your measurement is, just round up to the nearest even number in inches.

Just as an example then, if you get 18 and ½ inches for your length, the best thing to do is round up to 20 inches, since 20 would be the nearest even number. Avoid rounding up to 19 since it’s not an even number. This is because chainsaw measurements are not taken in odd numbers, so you would never say you have a cutting length of 19 inches.

Likewise, for 17 and ¾ inches, you would round up to 18.

Step 3: Getting The True Length

Then we have the true length. This is the second way to measure your chainsaw bar. Put simply, it is the full bar length when it’s not installed in the engine of the chainsaw.

When it comes to the truth length measurement, you’ll have to take the bar out of the body casing. When measuring the true total bar length, unscrew the bolts with a wrench or socket and carefully remove the bar from the casing. Look on the right side of the base—the bolts will be just near the base of the bar. This is something you’ll need to do anyway if you want to replace the bar with a new one.

Very carefully, as you are still dealing with a blade, place the bar flat on either the ground or on whatever workspace you have. From this point, you’ll only need to measure the distance from end to end, and this time, you don’t need to round up the numbers.

Step 4: Shopping for a New Chainsaw Bar

As you’re looking for a new bar then, you’ll take both of these measurements to pick out a blade that will fit. You should be able to find a perfect replacement. Click here to check our review of the best chainsaw bars on the market.

Why Can’t I Use Any Bar Size?

You might know this already, but the bar is not a one-size-fits-all kind of thing on your chainsaw. Not all chainsaws are compatible with all bar lengths, at least partially due to the fact that longer bars will need higher engine power.

You can’t simply put a large bar on your chainsaw. Neither can you just take a chainsaw with a weaker engine and try to install a longer bar—it just won’t work right.

If you have an electric chainsaw, you’ll find that it won’t work with anything longer than an 18-inch blade just because the motor will not be able to work with the longer bar and chain. Chainsaws with longer bars will use a more powerful engine—usually gas chainsaws.

If you have the manual for your chainsaw, it should tell you the bar length options you have. Definitely don’t use a chainsaw bar that is longer than what the manufacturer recommends, as this can have a negative impact on the engine power and speed.

Understand that with a longer chainsaw bar, the engine will use more power for the chain speed which will speed up the wear and tear on the engine.

How to Measure a Chainsaw Chain?

If you’re measuring and replacing the chainsaw bar, you might also wonder how to measure a chainsaw chain length.

To give you the right expectations, know that measuring a chainsaw chain length is somewhat more challenging than measuring a chainsaw bar. Instead of just two measurements, you will need three chain measurements.

First off, be very careful when you’re replacing and unscrewing the bar because you’ll need to unscrew and detach the chain as well.

Measuring the Chainsaw Chain

Here are the three measurements you need to know:

To start, count the number of drive links. That is the number of drive links along your chain. You’ll then need to measure the pitch (also known as the chain size). In other words, measure the distance between every link.

Measure the length between any three consecutive rivets, which are what hold all the drive links together. From here, divide by 2 to get the pitch. Generally, you’ll get a number of ¼’’, .325’’, ⅜’’, or .404’’.

Finally, proceed to measure the gauge. The gauge is the width of the groove on the chain that will fit into the bar (and this is why you’ll want to make sure that you get the right-sized bar too, when you’re replacing it). To get this measurement, just use the tape measure to find it on the chain.

Don’t want to measure the gauge with a tape measure? Here’s a nifty trick for you:

All you need is a quarter, a penny, and a dime. First, make sure the groove is completely clean and free of debris, then grab your quarter. See which coin fits best in the groove (penny, dime, or quarter). Once you’ve figured it out, here are the measurements for your gauge:

Quarter fits best: 0.063

Penny fits best: 0.058

Dime fits best: 0.050

Check For Measurements On the Blade

Just in case you didn’t know, you can actually find the measurements of the chain on the blade itself.

The measurements you need are often stamped onto the blade, right at the end, where it’s usually be hidden by the bolted cover. Once you take the blade off, you might be able to see these numbers.

You’ll only need to take the numbers to a hardware store to get the right-sized chain.

However, if the measurements have worn off and you can’t quite see them properly, it’s still good to know how to do the measurement yourself.

Don’t Guess

You might think that you can estimate the length of your bar and that it should be good enough for you to pick out a new one and get it installed. Especially considering the few measurements you need to do though, it’s best if you get those exact measurements instead of guessing.

If you guess, you might end up installing a bar or a chain that isn’t meant to be used on your chainsaw. This might end up damaging your tool, and in the worst case, it might lead to a situation where you accidentally misuse the tool while you’re operating it.

Considering how dangerous a chainsaw can be, you’ll want to avoid this at all costs.

Conclusion

As you can see, measuring your chainsaw bar isn’t all that difficult. Instead of guessing, you can measure a chainsaw bar easily to find the right replacement.

Measuring the true length will take a bit more work than measuring just the cutting length since you’ll have to take the bar out of the casing, but both measurements shouldn’t take too long. So long as you can work a tape measure and do basic math, you should be able to accurately measure your chainsaw bar.

Knowing the length of your chainsaw bar will ensure that your chainsaw will continue to work as good as it should over the long run, and that you’re able to get the right chain to accompany it too. Just make sure that you make all of your replacements safely and with the proper safety equipment.

Check my other chainsaw reviews

Best Chainsaw Best Electric Chainsaw Best Battery Chainsaw Best Cordless Chainsaw Best Gas Chainsaw Best Small Chainsaw Best Chainsaw For Home Use

from Backyard Mike https://www.backyardmike.com/how-to-measure-chainsaw-bar-chain-length/

#outdoor power tools #outdoor power equipment #garden tools

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fnaficsfordays · 4 years

Text

A Change of Heart

I probably should have posted this a while ago but screw it-

Only the prologue’s being posted here on tumblr but the full story will be found in the AO3 Link.

AO3 Link

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"Let's change it around to… green."

"...Ah."

"Doesn't work for you now, Scott?"

"No, but… this does."

"Oh, you phone-headed fucker-"

"Red."

"And the one color I didn't have!"

"Well, do you have it now, Mike?"

"No."

"Well, that works for me."

"Eh, it's nice but… I gotta switch it up a little."

"Oh no, after you, Bon."

"Hey, that works too!"

"Argh, y'all landlubbers done with switching us 'round?"

"Sure, why not."

"I don't have that either…"

Michael muttered the words underneath his breath as he reached for the deck, his hand growing fuller with each card that joined it. At last, he pulled out a yellow card, slapping it down on the pile. 15 cards. He was left with 15 cards.

"Don't act like that yet, Michael. The game's just started-"

"Yeah, it totally makes me feel better that we're ten seconds in and I've got 15 cards in my hand." He remarked, glaring at the phone-head. "You're only sitting at five, Scott."

“Anything could happen." Jeremy giggled, arms wrapped around the taller man’s torso, head resting against the red mask. “Don’t be a grump, Mike.”

"Hmmph."

"Y'all already need a drink or two? Looks like it's already getting heated." The chirp sounded from the doorway, Michael raising his eyes to look at the yellow head poking through, mechanical beak set in a slight smile.

"Eh, I'm all set, Chi." Vincent shrugged besides him, silver eyes sparkling with amusement. "Why don't you ask Michael?"

"...No. For now." He grumbled.

"Jeepers, now I remember why we don't play this game often." The hearty chuckle came from across the circle, a brown bear animatronic sitting crossed-legged on the floor. "With any luck, we'll be able to leave this nightshift with all of our limbs intact!"

"Arr, yee stay too hopeful, Freddy." Foxy shook his red ears as he placed a card down. "This ain't no scallywag's game, after all! Yee born in it, yee die with it."

"Well, don't come running to me when you change your mind." Chica giggled, walking away. "At least one of you always do!"

"It's all or nothing, sink or swim in here." Vincent smirked. "You might not die, but friendships definitely do."

"Oh, yay. That works." Michael muttered, placing down a card. "Now I'm only at 14. Just great."

"Come on, dude. Anything could happen." Vincent wrapped a purple-hued arm over his shoulder, flashing a grin. "And, hey, I'd be surprised if you didn't have something worthwhile in there by now."

He rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the feeling of his hand on his shoulder. They were in a game of uno, after all. Where only the strongest made it out alive.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm not risking anything." Scott slid forward a reverse, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry Scott," Bonnie flicked his violet ears as he snapped forward the same card, leaning back. "But you're gonna have to."

"Aw, that’s unfortunate.” Jeremy bit his lip. “Well, Vincent’s definitely right about friendships dying…”

The game went on, Michael narrowing his eyes with each card Scott added to the pile. His hand was growing awfully low, down to just a few cards. And even though he couldn't see his face, there was no way he didn't know as well.

His eyes darted to the clock for a split second, noting the time. Only 3:46, huh? Hopefully this single game wouldn't take much longer. Bonnie and Foxy had some repairs to get to, once they were done here, even if they'd decided to have some fun first.

Suddenly, he felt Vincent's arm around him tighten slightly. "Hey, Mike."

He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"How much rage do you have right now?"

"...Still plenty."

His silver eyes flashed, grin widening. "Let's use it. Red."

Michael blinked as he stared at the card he'd just slid forward, those small 'plus fours' in the corners. Slowly, surely, a smile started to form on his lips as he became aware of a very, very similar card in his own hand.

"Michael-"

His hand shot forward as he slammed down another plus four, right on top of Vincent's.

"He’s done it!" Foxy cackled, waving his hook in the air. "Aw, yee scallywag-"

"Now Scott's gonna have to- aw, no!" Freddy shook his head. "That was just rude, Mike."

Michael leaned forward, a smirk on his face. "And as for the color… we'll keep it red."

"Oh, give me five right now." Vincent chuckled. He reached out an open hand, Michael meeting it with a solid high-five. He watched as Scott shook his head slightly.

"So… I have to draw eight."

"Your turn to have double digits, Scott." He gave a nonchalant shrug, leaning back towards Vincent.

"What, so you two are teaming now?" He snorted.

"You’ve got your boyfriend on your side, fuck off." Vincent gave a sharp grin, pulling Michael closer. He nearly dropped his cards in surprise, face beginning to warm up slightly. He was held right against his chest, Vincent's arm gently yet firmly wrapped around his torso.

Calm down, Michael. You've got a game to play. He took in a deep breath, fixing his eyes on his cards as the game went on. Why had he been so surprised by it? He'd been the one to start leaning back, he'd been perfectly fine with it- he was fine with this too, if he was being honest. Pull it back together.

In the end, it was Foxy that was able to set down his last card first, hook waving high in victory. "Ah, 'course ya landlubbers never stood a chance! Never underestimate the cunning of a pirate, eh?"

"Aw, c'mon!" Bonnie whined. "I only had two cards left."

"Good game, good game now." Freddy chuckled. "Well, time to get those repairs going."

"Works for me." Vincent's voice sounded behind Michael's ears, hand swiftly taking his own cards from his grasp. "I'll go ahead and put these back. I’ll help Foxy?"

Michael blinked at the gesture. "Y-Yeah, I'll- I'll work on Bonnie, I guess."

He tried to ignore his own stuttering as he pushed himself off of Vincent's lap, taking a deep breath as he followed Bonnie to the back of the stage. His heart was already slowing back down, yet his skin still tingled from where Vincent had held him.

Miles glanced around the dimly lit room, still as stone. Back pressed against the wall, ears not flickering in the slightest, limbs frozen in place.

He couldn't risk it. Any movement, whether the creak of the rotting wood or a few clicks of the gears, was sure to alert them to his presence. He couldn't be found this soon. The grimy lights flickered ever so slightly, Miles staying tense and stiff as he watched the blinking bulbs.

Could he win this time? He'd done it before, but it was always a challenge around them. Despite the tension in his tight locks and gears, his senses tingled with excitement at the thought. Seeking's just as fun as hiding, after all.

Where were they? All of them were nothing more but silent whispers when they moved- except for himself, of course. But even he'd gotten quite good at masking his presence through these games.

He had to be somewhat close, though. Whether that was somewhat on the way to winning or somewhat on the way to being found-

Suddenly, the lights above shut off completely, the room falling to complete darkness. But he didn't move, still only with his eyes darting around.

Was he found? Was someone else found? Who'd come by?

Then, all those questions got answered.

"Surprise!" A fox’s head swung down in front of his hiding spot, giggling with glee.

He joined in the laughter easily after a moment of shock, mechanical throat rumbling with amusement. "I thought I was close?"

"Nope!" Another voice joined in, chittery yet filled with the same joy. He started to get out from underneath the wood, shaking his long ears off from the splinters as he looked at the two. "Good, but not good enough, Miles!"

He rolled his eyes fondly. "Mangle just has such an advantage with seeking and hiding, though."

"And I use it!" Mangle swung back down in front of them, thin, ragged endoskeleton hanging low. They angled their ragged ears at the second flickering figure. "Chica always goes to the kitchen, though."

"Not always!" She protested, putting her hands on her hips. "This time I didn't."

"You were still in the room right next to it, silly bird!" Mangle giggled in their high-pitched, screeching voice. "I thought I would have found you before Balloony."

"You found him too? Who's left?" Miles asked eagerly, eyes glittering with energy as his gears clicked around.

"Only Foxy!" They giggled, head lowering further as they shook it. "The sly vulpine's got around again."

"Looked everywhere?" Chica chirped.

"Everywhere!" Mangle whined. "I was even looking in the thinner vents that only I’m able to get through."

"He's probably in plain sight, he likes that." Miles started to walk from the doorway, shaking away the cobwebs from his ears. "Or maybe flattening himself onto the wall, like you."

They gave a cackling laugh as they followed him through the doorway, clutching the ceiling with their wiry limbs. "I would have trod on him while exploring if that was the case!"

"Even then." Miles wasn't really able to smile, given his broken jaw, but he hoped it still showed through his eager words.

"Wait, Freddy's coming back!" Chica exclaimed.

"And he's… yes!" Mangle shrieked, scrambling on the ceiling to meet him. It would have been a terrifying sight had he not seen it before, but he was nothing if not euphoric at what they were racing towards. “You found Foxy!”

"A good fight, but one that had to end." The raspy voice echoed through the hallway, deep and gravely. "Found him wrapped inside a crumbling part of the bathroom."

"But we checked there!" Chica chirped indignantly.

"Not hard enough, yee cross-eyed stargazer!" Foxy's triumphant laugh followed her words, mechanical irises glittering with his victory. "My turn to seek now, eh?"

"So close." Miles chuckled, shaking his head. "If I'd been hidden just a bit more, I would have won!"

"But yee didn'!" He cackled, raising his ragged arms. "Fair be fair 'round here. Now it's my time!"

Freddy gave a low rumble. "Actually, Balloony said the night guard would be here soon. Best not to act rash now, eh?"

"They are?!" Mangle suddenly dropped from the ceiling, nearly bowling over Miles in their haste. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get going!"

"How about whoever scares them the most can become the seeker instead?" Chica turned towards Foxy, chirps jittery with excitement.

"Aw, yee scallywags are on!"

"I always terrify them the most, so I'm ready-"

"Don't speak too soon, Miles. We've got six hours, and then we'll see who's the winner!"

"I'm ready to seek out another thrill anytime soon!"

"Let's go, you silly birdies!"

Michael stared at the screen, hollowed eyes glancing at the flashing words. It was nothing more than a cascade of black and white in his blurry vision, hefting a slight sigh as he aimlessly clicked around, withered hands occasionally pressing against the keyboard. A yawn escaped his mouth, and he leaned back in his chair, eyes closing for a split second as the burning feeling in his eyeballs faded for a moment.

It was obviously more than just a second though, as Michael was suddenly being jolted back awake by the feeling of a few small tugs on the corner of his sleeve. Something scraped against the desk. He blinked open his rheumy irises for a moment, glancing at the small figure urging him up.

A little white and pink colored plastic bear was gripping the fabric of his shirt, blinking wide eyes up at him as his vision focused. The small chubby paws let go quickly as it hopped back onto the wood, nudging something closer to him.

Michael coughed slightly, pushing himself up as he looked at the small plastic plate in front of him. Two pieces of buttered toast sat on it, along with a folded slice of cold ham. As he watched, the small bear scuttled off and grabbed a coffee cup, wrapping both arms around it and carrying it over as well. Though, with the styrofoam cup being as tall as the little guy itself, it was having quite the struggle.

He gave a slight chuckle, grabbing the sweet-smelling drink from the bear with a bony arm. "Thanks, Helpy." He gave a slight smile, watching the pink ears of the miniature robot prick up in delight. "You're the one little dude I can trust around here, huh?"

Helpy didn't give any verbal response, but it clapped its plastic hands together as a grin appeared on its cheeks. Michael watched as it turned to look at the screen, moving to grip the computer mouse in its paws. It slowly moved it and clicked around with its little fingers, until it pointed at a certain site, ears twitching as it glanced back at him.

He swallowed down a bite of toast, gaze following its arm. He raised an eyebrow. "You think that'll help with the place?"

It gave a few rapid nods, flashing a little smile. Michael gave a small shrug. "You're probably right, buddy. It'll sure make it a little livelier… let's just check the price to make sure it's in budget."

Helpy gave a nod, moving the mouse. Suddenly, it flinched as a loud, much different scraping noise sounded from above. It came from within the walls, creaking and clanking. Almost as if it was nothing but a bunch of rough metal and wires.

The ragged, echoey cackle that Michael heard following it only confirmed his suspicions, and he rolled his eyes, glancing at Helpy. "Mind pulling the switch, bud?"

It gave a quick nod, hopping off the desk and running towards the corner besides them. Climbing the stack of boxes set up, it pushed itself up with tiny limbs towards a lever on the wall. Michael was still staring at the ceiling, eyes trailing after the source. Down the wall, towards the room, a beady pair of red mechanical eyes appearing in the open vent that glittered with malice-

Slam!

A large metal covering shut firmly down in front of the opening as Helpy finally tugged the lever down. It hopped away right afterwards and scuttled back to Michael, climbing onto his shoulder. He couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at his mouth as he heard the glitched groan of annoyance coming from the now-closed vent.

"Oh, c-come on, Mike!" They cackled, metal scraping against the walls. "I-It's not ve-very funny to keep old fr-friends waiting~!"

He rolled his eyes as he heard the endoskeleton limbs banging against the cover, crossing his arms. "I can do this song and dance all night. You're going to have to try a bit harder than that, Freddo."

The scraping froze for a moment, before resuming, much louder and more violent. "Di-Did YOU just c-call me FREDDO?!"

"Don't like the nickname, Freddo?" He grinned. Besides him, Helpy's small shoulders shook as it opened its mouth in silent laughter.

"I-I'll find a way in-inside, and then we'll see who's-who's laughing, M-Mike!" They snarled, attempts of breaking in still remaining fruitless.

"Yeah, yeah. Good luck with that, Freddo."

They gave a mechanical growl, leaving one last shrieking scrape against the vent before stomping away. Could a pile of wires and metallic eyes stomp?

With that, Michael turned his attention back to the screen, taking a drink from his cup as he glanced at the price now onscreen. 30 bucks… yeah, that's going on the list, easy. He was about to reach over for the second piece of toast on the plate, only to hit crumbs. Where did it…

Then, Helpy tugged on his shirt again. He became aware of a slight munching noise behind him, along with a familiar scent of decay and rust.

Michael spoke even before he'd even fully turned around, hefting a sigh. "Dad, get your own breakfast."

A rotten chuckle rumbled from the putrid suit, blackened eye sockets gleaming faintly with amusement. "Why, when there's plenty right here? You don't even need it anymore."

"Well, neither do you." He crossed his arms, glaring at the springlock suit. "Don't bother giving it back, I don't want it anymore. What is it this time?"

"Ah, of course not." William snorted. "Don't want anything from me, do you?"

"You haven't answered my question." Michael's hand visibly drifted towards the taser sitting on the desk, raising an eyebrow.

William took a step back, metal hands raised up. "Quite defensive, are we?" He chuckled. "I was only wondering if Elizabeth had stopped by tonight."

He shrugged. "Probably still after Molten in the vents. Liz doesn't exactly come by often. If she had, you'd be the first to know."

"Fair, fair." A ragged sigh echoed from the suit, and he popped the rest of the bread into his 'mouth', crunching down. He turned his head to look at Helpy, still sitting on Michael's shoulder. "Could do with a bit more butter, but oh well."

"You want more butter, do it yourself." He snorted, turning back towards the computer. "Now get out of my office. And close the door on the way out."

William gave a derisive rumble, gears clicking within the suit as he began to walk towards the back of the room. His feet clanked loudly as the door creaked, slamming it shut as the footsteps faded away.

Michael clicked away on the computer, focus returning as he glanced from ad to ad, adding some to the list, leaving others alone. A while passed until a small plastic finger was tapping on his arm, round eyes blinking up at him.

"What is it, bud?" His gaze darted to Helpy as it pointed to a clock, the number blinking in green.

It was 6 A.M. already? Heh… he supposed the nights were blurring together quite a bit after so long. He took one last sip of the drink before beginning to stand up, giving a few more clicks as the screen began to fade to black. He gave a slight yawn, glancing at the bed against the wall. Helpy gave another slight nudge, pointing at the cup.

"No, just leave it. Dad'll probably finish it off. Or Lefty might show up." Michael was already walking towards the mattress. He glanced at the little bear, giving a small grin. "Thanks, little guy."

Michael sat down, leaning his head back against the pillow. His eyes drifted shut quickly, settling against the bare sheets. He probably would have felt much colder if he still was able to physically feel much… but no matter. A moment of rest was plenty welcomed around here, no matter how it came. Soon enough, he was drifting off into an empty slumber, mauve body as limp and still as a corpse.

Three universes, five beings. Beings living normal lives- well, normal compared to the other oddities lurking in the depths of time and space. Some may have dared call it disturbing- and rightfully so, to an extent. After all, why else would they all have been lumped together in the first place?

But for them, it was life. Life with ups and with downs, comparative highs and lows they'd grown used to. Grown attached to, in some sense. Lives that may not have been perfect, but lives they could call their own. For it was their own.

And yet… soon enough, with no warning… it wouldn't be their own. Nothing would ever truly be their own ever again. How could it, with the memories that they would gain, impossible to erase away? Knowledge might have been both a curse and a blessing, but for them, it was no less than a horrific purgatory.

But it was the only way in sight. Every journey must start somewhere, and they are no exception. In fact… the five of them truly are the exception, for they alone were placed at the foot of such a tall mountain to climb in the first place. Knowledge is best picked up by way of experience, after all…

...Even if such an experience can be quite unwelcome at first.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fanfiction #au #multiverse #metafiction #fnaf vincent #fnaf william afton #fnaf michael schmidt #fnaf michael afton #oc miles opher

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omniscientprostitute · 7 years

Text

Young Gun

Relationship: Trevor Collins x fem!Reader

Summary: You meet one of the infamous Fakes

Warnings: cursing, mild violence, random plot directions

Word Count: 2835

A/N: This is set in the FAHC universe. I took some liberties. Also, this work was inspired by a fic I read a few years ago called “down to ride (till the happy end)” by raewastaken (IWriteLove) on Archive of Our Own.http://archiveofourown.org/works/5838430

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It wasn’t a secret that Los Santos wasn’t the best place to live The city was full of gangs and corrupt cops. It was impossible to be sure who was civilian and who was criminal. It didn’t help that your apartment was in a sketchy part of town. It wasn’t your fault you were trying to pay off a college tuition and pay rent on a minimum wage paycheck. You worked at a cute little bookstore a few blocks from your apartment. You long twelve hour shifts caused you to fall into bed exhausted most nights. That meant you could normally sleep through police sirens, but they seemed closer tonight, as if the police were circling the neighborhood. You could have sworn someone was at the window in the living room. You held your breath and laid perfectly still, while you listened to the latch on your window click. There was silence, then soft footsteps creeping towards your room. You grabbed the book off of your nightstand and scurried behind your bedroom door. There was a tense moment before the door cautiously squeaked open. You swung the book, catching the tall man on the arm. He spun, and you looked down the barrel of a handgun. You squeaked, dropping the book and putting your hands up. The man moved you to the living room, where he turned on the lights after closing all of the drapes and blinds. He wore a black bandana over the majority of his face, but his brown eyes were soft and expressive. “Do you have a phone?”

“Right bedside table.” You instructed. “The password is Alexander Pope’s death date.”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” The man sassed.

“Are you supposed to be in my apartment?” You automatically snapped back. “It’s May thirtieth seventeen-forty-four.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Stay here.” You did as he instructed. Your fingers playing with the hem of your sleeping shirt. He returned to the room with your phone pressed to his cheek. The person on the other end of the phone didn’t seem happy. The man said his general whereabouts before slipping the phone into his pocket.

“Excuse me.”

“I can’t have you going to the police and tracing back the number I called.”

“Then I need a couple hundred dollars, so I can buy myself a new phone tomorrow.” You took pleasure in his surprised raised eyebrows. “I work a minimum wage job and have to pay off student loans and pay rent; it’s going to take me months to make enough to afford a phone. I’m a petite, twenty-two year old female without a car; my phone is the only protection I have. So, unless you’re going to escort me around the city, I need enough money for a new phone.” The staring contest between you and the man was interrupted by a short honk from outside your apartment. Without addressing you, the man exited the apartment with your phone.

The first thing you did when you got back to your apartment after work was take your bra off and open the fridge. You settled for reheating Mac N’ Cheese, craving some comfort food after the last twenty-four hours of stress. You didn’t notice the little wrapped box sitting on the coffee table, until you plopped down on the couch. The box was rectangular and heavy, wrapped neatly in Happy Birthday wrapping paper. You carefully ripped the paper, exposing the newest smartphone on the market. You almost dropped it to fumble for the little card that was tucked in the box:

I can’t afford to escort you around the

city, but you’re too cute to leave helpless.

The password is Alexander Pope’s death.

~Zed

You smiled at the note despite the fact that it was written by a dangerous criminal who broke into your apartment and stole your phone. Despite everything, you unlocked the phone anyway and found that all of your contacts, photos, and applications had been transferred over. Reopening the card, you considered the name Zed. It was most likely an alias. Using your new phone, you googled “Zed in Los Santos”. The most likely result was a series of police reports linking Zed with various robberies as well as the Fake AH Crew. One of the articles had a picture included. The man had been caught on video robbing a gas station, and the man in the grainy image was definitely the same guy who had broken into your apartment. The new information did make the prior evening even more terrifying, but you figured you would never see Zed again. You didn’t have anything he would want.

Forty-three minutes. You had been sitting at the counter of one of the less seedy bars in Los Santos for forty-three minutes, waiting for a date that most likely wasn’t going to show. You hadn’t been on a date in years, which was supposedly some sort of social sin based on the way your coworker reacted. So, you had let yourself be set up on a blind date. Now you felt stupid, and slightly insulted, sitting alone at a bar in a nice black dress, playing games on your phone and drinking shitty beer. You were also sort of on edge due to the group of rowdy guys huddled around the pool table by the door. There was a woman with them, but she was obviously one of them. You pushed your finished beer away and checked the time. It was eight-ten; you weren’t comfortable being out alone after nine-thirty. You knew there was no point waiting around, but it was sort of nice being out of the apartment. You looked up as the bartender set a drink down in front of you. “Courtesy of Zed.” You startled at the name and fought the urge to jerk around and search for him. Instead, you brought the glass to your lips, pleased that he had sent you something decent to drink.

You left the bar after finishing the drink. It was closing in on ten o’clock which made you nervous, but you began your walk anyway. You were a few buildings down from the bar when you felt a hand gently grab your elbow. Jerking away, you lifted your bag to hit whoever had grabbed you. You thumped the man a few times in the chest with your purse before recognizing the bandana and the brown eyes. “Jesus, Zed.”

He seemed to perk up at the use of his alias. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to walk home alone. It’s not safe. You should take a cab.”

“That’s sweet, thank you.” You began walking, not wanting to be out on the street any longer than you had to.

“So, why were you all alone at a bar?”

“I got stood up.” You admitted. “Then you bought me a drink, but didn’t come to say hello.”

“I don’t really want my friends to know about you.”

“Yet you ditch them to walk me home?”

“I told them I was going to get something to eat.”

You decided to change the conversation. “So, is the bandana a crew thing?”

“No. They prefer masks, but masks mess up my hair.” Zed ran a hand through his hair. You laughed politely, but allowed yourself to appreciate the fluffy brown hair. The tips were a bit lighter, like it had been dyed. “You look very nice by the way.”

You blushed. “Thank you. I’m glad someone appreciated the work I put in.” You obnoxiously flipper your hair making Zed laugh.

“Did you know the guy?”

“No. He’s my coworker’s friend.” You noted that you were closing in on your apartment. You were a little sad that your walk was ending. “It’s not that big of a deal. I mostly agreed to humor her.”

“Really?” Zed inquired; his right eyebrow raising.

You didn’t know why you were being so open with Zed. He was a dangerous criminal, but he also seemed like a real person. “I’ve been single for over six months. I get a little lonely sometimes.” Zed walked you up to your apartment. “Thank you for walking me home. Even though you broke into my apartment, you made me feel safe.” You made it obvious that you were teasing. “Have a good evening Zed.” You suppressed the urge to kiss his cloth covered cheek before retreating into your apartment.

For the next month, you life returned to it’s calm state. Work ruled your life. Despite you coworker’s further pressing, you declined any other dates. You wouldn’t say you fell into a depression, but there was definitely a dullness that took over your life. If your landlord would have allowed it, you would have gotten a pet, probably a dog that would require you to leave the apartment for walks or get off the couch to play.

You were sitting on your couch eating a salad with limp lettuce and watching The Twilight Zone, when your living room window slid open. A short but wide shouldered man slid in before collapsing to the floor. You sprinted over, closing the window, and drawing the curtains The man rolled onto his back: “You’re Treyco’s girlfriend right?”

“Who?” You stepped back as the man got to his feet.

“I thought this was the right apartment.”

“The only criminal I know is Zed, and I haven’t seen him in over a month.”

“So you are her!” The man pumped his fist in the air. “Zed is Treyco.” He explained. “And, I’m Rimmy Tim, but you can call me Lil J. I’m Treyco’s best friend.”

“Umm, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I should be saying that to you.” Lil J followed you into the kitchen, where you began fixing yourself more salad since most of yours had ended up on the floor. “He hasn’t stopped talking about you, since he broke into your apartment to avoid the cops. God, it’s so annoying. ‘Oh Jeremy, she was so adorable. She’s so smart and she wears Batman boxers to bed. Her name is Y/N, and she works at a book store.” Lil J suddenly dropped the high pitched voice he had adopted. “it’s so gross. I just had to check you out.” You knew your face was bright red. You were flattered by the compliments, although it seemed like Zed or Treyco was stalking you. “I gotta’ admit; you are pretty cute.”

“Thank you?”

“Well, I’ve gotta’ run. See you around Y/N.” Lil J then walked out the front door.

The next morning you found a vase of flowers on your counter with a note that said:

Sorry about Lil J.

~Zed

You were in the middle of straightening the children’s books when the bell over the front entrance tinkled softly. “Welcome to Marlee’s Books. Holler if you need anything.” You called before peeking your head around the bookshelf. The most attractive man ever was looking at the display of new releases in the front. He was tall but not lanky. He wore light brown leather boots, fitted dark wash jeans, and a light gray jacket over a pale green shirt. His hair and the tips of his ears were tucked under a black beanie. He looked like a model. You hid back behind the stacks and internally screamed as you moved from the children’s section to non-fiction. A man that gorgeous probably already had a girlfriend.

“Hey.” You jumped at the voice that almost sounded familiar. “I was wondering if you had any Alexander Pope?” You nodded, quickly setting aside the books you were straightening and hurried out of the aisle. You didn’t make eye-contact with the man as he followed you through the store.

“All of our Neoclassical authors are in this area.” You stopped in front of the shelf housing works by Alexander Pope. “My personal favorite is The Complete Collection; it’s a little expensive, but it includes a partial biography and all of his literary criticisms. Most collections only include his poems and essays.”

“Thank you.” You took that as a dismissal and returned to the non-fiction section.

The man perused the store for more than an hour before approaching the counter. He had selected three books, one of which was the collection that you had recommended. “Did you find everything you were looking for?”

“Yes, thank you.” In a lapse of self-awareness, you made eye-contact with the man. He had brown eyes that looked like pools of melted dark chocolate.

“Your total is sixty-five forty-eight.” The man handed you a fancy black card with the name Trevor Collins engraved in gold on it. “Have a nice day Mr. Collins.”

“You too.”

The rest of your shift was uneventful. A few of the regulars came in to buy some of the new releases, but other than that the store was quiet. The lack of patrons allowed you to complete your duties earlier than usual. You vacuumed and dusted before clocking out and handing your keys to the closing manager. Knowing that you had no food in your apartment, you decided to stop by a Mexican place on the way home. Had you been paying attention, you wouldn’t have gone in. Gang territory disputes could happen anywhere at anytime. Sometimes they happened in the middle of the street. Sometimes they happened in a Mexican restaurant. You were immediately knocked over the head with the but of a gun and bound with rubber hosing. The gang member waived a gun in your face as a warning to be quiet, then they shoved you in the back. There were three employees in the back, all of which had been killed by a bullet to the forehead.

They seemed to have forgotten about you until the cops showed up. You were forced over bodies of the losing gang and pressed against the storefront window. A gun was pressed to your head. You could see about three cop cars and a handful of reporters with cameras outside of the restaurant. You wondered if they were live, if somewhere hot guy Trevor Collins, or criminal nice-guy Zed was watching you be used as a hostage. Everyone was yelling, but you weren’t understanding what was being said. You figured they were negotiating with your life.

Suddenly the window in front of you shattered, and the guy who had been holding you dropped with a bullet in his head. You had enough mind to fall onto your stomach as the night’s second shoot out occurred over your head. You curled into a ball and waited for the police to get you. You were put in an ambulance and taken to the hospital, but you were sent home before midnight.

You entered your apartment to find the hot guy Trevor Collins standing in your kitchen with a familiar bandana hanging around his neck. “I should have figured you were gorgeous.” You walked past Trevor to throw yourself onto the couch. “So, were you there or did you see it on the news?”

“I saw it on the news.” You felt the couch dip by your feet.

“Why are you here Zed, or Treyco, or Trevor, whoever you are right now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then leave!” You jerked into a sitting position. “You’re whole--I’m going to be everywhere for a week then disappear for a month--thing is incredibly confusing, especially with you detached but protective attitude. Either take me on a date or leave me alone!” Your stomach dropped as Trevor got up from the couch.

“You should probably take off work tomorrow. Tonight must have been really stressful.”

Despite you being unable to close your eyes without getting vivid flashbacks, you didn’t call into work. Your manager and coworkers who had seen the news sent you home, but you didn’t return to your apartment you hunkered down in a cafe around the corner. Alone was the worst thing for you at the moment. You stared into the black mil of your coffee. You couldn’t tell if Trevor had been hurt or angered by your outburst. He definitely closed himself off, but you hoped that didn’t mean he was leaving you alone. Bot that he owed you anything. Trevor was probably busy with criminal stuff; he didn’t need to be messing around with you. “You are supposed to be at home.” You looked up, a small smile gracing your lips at Trevor’s exasperated tone. “Do you mind if I sit?” You shook your head. “So, coffee shop?”

“Didn’t really want to be alone.” You admitted. “I’m sorry about last night. That was out of line.”

“No, I needed to hear it.” Trevor looked down into his own coffee. “I like you a lot; I was just unsure what with my profession, but I talked to some friends, and I would really like to take you on a date.”

“Does this count?” You asked, nudging Trevor’s cup with your own.

“Only if you let me buy your next one.”

“I think we can make that happen.”

#trevor collins imagine #fahc trevor #reader insert

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rureikia · 4 years

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Chapter 2

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Sumiko and I left the office as soon as our shift had ended.

I kept blabbering and asking questions about this group meeting event and why she chose to let this be the final resort of her dating life as a joke. I don’t think she wasn’t really happy with my joke – but in all seriousness, I was never really expecting her to be the type of woman that goes for this sort of clique, that’s why I was quite surprised earlier.

She got irritated at me, then aimlessly answered my queries, explaining how it was something to experience at least once and drop it if it’s not her thing.

And after what she told me, I started to think about the whole thing from a different perspective too…

I also have never done this before either, so what’s my real reason to not like it? I can’t not like something if I haven’t experienced it, right?… I can’t be too quick to hate on things that I have no prior knowledge over – that should be the basic logic. Subsequently I thought that maybe, I was being a bit too judgemental over this stuff and should just ease down a bit.

Thus I decided that if I gave this a chance, something good might happen as an outcome without me expecting – and that was the type of encouragement I gave to excite myself!

So via public transport, we were dropped off at the bus stop and walked to the chosen restaurant.

Once we arrived, I eyed the place up and down to process whatever was in front of me. Then words trailed out when reading the banner hanging outside, “Ohh… Uh – Onigiri Miya…?”

Never heard of it. But was actually quite close to my apartment by a couple of minutes.

“Huh… What’s with that face? Ever been here or are you just nervous?” Sumiko asks.

“Don’t tease me,” I scoffed at her and shook my head, “And neither. It’s my first time here.”

Nowadays when I do go out for dinner, it’s with my office’s branch in that same BBQ place we’d always choose — those colleague worker dinners after a hard week or meeting. Other than that, I’d usually cook at home or order food when possible. So coming here, despite the strange gut feeling, it felt like I was stepping out my comfort zone and doing something new.

“They should be inside already,” Sumiko said leading me in, “Though this restaurant is obviously known for their onigiris, they make amazing udon and miso too apparently.”

I peeked my head in interest, “Oh really? That seems nice…"

From the outside it was semi-traditional and inside, the interior set up was a zashiki restaurant, which explained that traditionalism. So giving the place one last a good look, I took my coat and bag off, holding it between my arms.

Sumiko did the same thing and tapped on my shoulder, "Hey, I see them. They’re over there, look.”

“Where? Oh haha, are any of the guys good looking?” I asked, standing on my tiptoes to see a better view of the tables.

She laughs pensively, “I don’t know (Y/N), depends what you like. Okay let’s go, come on.”

There weren’t tons of people in the restaurant tonight with only three full tables that were occupied with customers.

By the time we both stepped in, six other people I’ve never seen before waved and called out Sumiko’s family name as they supposedly only recognized her. And judging from what it seemed, the event was going to consist of four males and four females (that’s including me and her).

I had to do another double-take in order to analyze more of what I could consider about the people.

So far, the other six were adults all definitely around our age, appearing to bring a friendly aura and welcoming us with warm mannerism despite me not being closely familiar with anyone. In conclusion, it was satisfactory. Sumiko didn’t get invited by people I should be weary of.

Now that I’m done judging them, I must judge myself.

They looked at me and suddenly I turned quite embarrassed, more irked than usual. Because I didn’t know them and my first impression can go down hill if I’m too careless. That’s why I had to do my best to keep my posture presentable whilst we approached. So I bowed politely alongside Sumiko before we took off our shoes at the entrance and sat on our sets.

Although I personally felt quite out of place here, she magically changed into this entrepreneur facade by opening up and smiling in a blink of an eye.

“Ah, Nanase-san we’re not late are we?” Sumiko checked with a high-pitched voice, I wanted to laugh.

The other woman, Nanase-san denies and waves her hand modestly at Sumiko, “No, no not at all, we all just arrived too so no one is late. But it’s nice to meet you two by the way! (L/N)-chan is that your name right?”

I nodded and smiled, “Yes, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Haha, I’ve heard quite a lot about you! (L/N)-chan you work in the H.J branch with Sumiko is that true?” She asks, trying to carry on an endearing conversation.

Oh gosh, she spoke in such flattery! The pretty woman says she heard a lot about me!

“Ahaha really? Seriously, don’t listen to whatever negative gossip Sumiko tells you.” I joke and she laughs in amusement.

“Oh, (Y/N), I would never.” Sumiko scoffs and rolls her eyes at me.

I carried on talking to Nanase-san a bit more mainly about work, then placed myself opposite a guy who was still wearing his work attire consisting of a tie, shirt and an undone blazer.

In comparison to the others, he looked a little anxious but providentially had enough confidence to bring his hand out for a handshake.

“Hello,” He greeted me with a nod, “U-Uh — my name is Yuzuru Ken, it’s nice to meet you.”

I shook his hand back, “Nice to meet you too —Yuzuru-san?”

Perhaps he thought I noticed his awkwardness and so loosened the grasp of my hand fairly fast.

“Just Yuzuru is fine thank you,” He kindly smiles, “Ah please, tell me your name too.”

I smile back too, “My name is (L/N) (Y/N), but just (L/N) is fine for me.”

From the side of him, I heard the other guy coo and point at us with his two fingers, “Ooh, look here… Seems like you guys are already on the first stage huh? Lucky, lucky, I think we have a potential match already!”

I didn’t think much of it too deeply, but I assumed Yuzuru found it uncomfy by the slightest. He laughed hollowly in response and looked down, as I was scratching my nose.

“Ah, I’m just greeting out of politeness really.” I cluelessly said without thinking.

But straight after that, I felt Sumiko chuckle passive-aggressively and nudge me on the thigh under the table as a way to say — don’t just say that you stupid idiot. And because of her nerve-tingling attack, I accidentally slipped out a strange gasping noise.

Everyone heard, so all their eyes were on momentarily on me.

Yuzuru in particular spoke with a concerned brow raised, “(L/N)? Are you okay?” He asks.

This guy I think he’s much nicer than that damned Sumiko for sure!

I nudged Sumiko with my own elbow back very discreetly and heard her click her tongue in annoyance. However, in order to make up an excuse for that embarrassing gasp I did just now, I shifted my sight to the menu laid down on the table.

“Wow I’m just……… Amazed at the variety of drinks here, ah don’t you think we should order drinks now? What’s usually the best drink here?” I questioned (while cringing).

Yuzuru, “O-Oh I see, usually I get beer.”

Plan worked! Everyone stopped staring!

“Okay! If you get beer then I’ll get beer too!"

Not too soon, after some self-introductions, the whole group gathered closer to the centre of the table where we started picking food.

At some point, I stared into Sumiko’s eyes when picking mine out, which was purposely a lot since she told me that she will pay everything for me — therefore whilst I did that, she attempted to keep the fake smile on her face as kind as possible.

I wanted her to spend a lot today, and I wanted to get spoiled, but she figured out a jarring plan way too fast.

”(Y/N) uwah! Oh you’re like a little pig, picking so much, you sure do eat a lot!!“ Sumiko says out loud to humiliate me and it successfully catches me off guard.

I jolt, and abruptly close the menu, "Oh… Uh I guess that’s all I’ll have then.”

I know that I am quite sensible, but sometimes I like to have fun like that too.

…….

Once everyone chosen, two of the people left to go to the countertable to order, leaving the rest of us to continue getting to know one another and chat.

Time past quickly under the group communication, I learnt that me and Sumiko were the youngest ones, us being 24 years of age and the others being up to three years older.

I also discovered that the members here work in a bank too, just different branches that are either close-by or in partnership to ours. And since one of the male members here knew Nanase-san from a linked branch, those two decided to invite people around for this event which included Sumiko and Sumiko choosing to potentially invite me. The two from earlier then came back with all the drinks, letting us know that the food will arrive in around 20 minutes.

Subsequently, we ended up chatting some more. But when looking from an outsider’s perspective, I don’t think I was as talkative as the others, to my surprise, neither was Yuzuru. In fact, the only person he did talk to was primarily me, even though I also lacked in sentences.

He was a good guy. I could tell just from the way he acts and his soft-spoken voice, which was honestly so much more relieving to see.

We had this conversation where he briefly explained his past dating situations but told me still lacks experience. Just like my scenario, the only reason why he came here is because he was invited via bribing.

I thought I could relate to him a bit in some aspects mainly about work, but then there was the subject of dating that was touched upon. It was because of that topic I sensed small lumps of uneasiness within my chest. Of course, it’s not because I thought he was a strange person (he wasn’t) but it was because there was a voice in the back of my head that constantly reminded me how I wasn’t here to find someone. I was here for food.

What caused me consider myself to be even more self-critical was how I solely, due to this interaction exchange between Yuzuru, made the decision to make this the first and last time I join a goukon.

Ah. Perhaps, not finding a new partner for three years impacted me as I now felt increasingly cold-hearted as an individual since I’m now being very negative.

I do want to be less pessimistic about it, but the feeling didn’t seem to stop — hence why I think this sort of stuff is not fitted for me. And as I said to myself earlier at the office, I conclusively standby my opinion how I prefer meeting people by chance and not by choice.

…Come to think of it, I might be being a tad too self-critical… Maybe I really have gone bland and Sumiko was correct.

To find a partner or just a friend I’d need to have conversations but I must’ve forgotten the excitement of what meeting new people is like. Because every time something like this happens, I nitpick an issue and after I’d complain about it mentally… I really have gone bland then!!!

I sucked in some air between my teeth in agony.

On the other hand… If I put all of that aside I can still think of one positive aspect. And it’s a big, relevant one that helps outweighs everything.

Everyone here had characteristics that made them fun to watch. I looked at them, sipping their drinks every so often as they entertained each other with jokes and bubbling discussions.

The more I looked and the more I drank, my mind became more concentrated in the the events happening on the table rather than my internal complaints of not wanting to find romance or thinking that I’m being too cold.

Turns out, I platonically like them a lot. Maybe, I wouldn’t even mind being better friends with them in the future either.

…….

Once the food arrived, we toasted for the probably third time tonight with our drinks and started digging in, carrying on with this constant chatter.

I was eating a lot of dishes until I came across a bizarre obstacle. This wasn’t me being full, I am very proud of my stomach, it was just that I looked up to see a man with the restaurant’s working cap. He was wearing a black T-shirt, jeans and an apron which all was very minimalistic. So naturally, even with that minimalistic attire, I thought he looked absolutely beautiful. Indeed there is evidence that God loves some people more than others…

He asked if the food was good and my eyes lit up brightly when I spotted more drinks were on a tray in his hands. When I looked up to have my beer can handed, my face turned shy at his expression.

“Enjoy.” He smiled.

Me, a little speechless, thanked him graciously as he left.

“…”

“Oi… That dude… He could be a famous model don’t you think…?” Sumiko muttered to me, I nodded vigorously in agreement.

“Definitely… Maybe we should invite him to sit with us and so you can try and get him…” I muttered back.

“(Y/N) you absolute genius, but no way I’m going to do that.”

I laughed mildly at our quiet mishaps, my can of beer pressed against my bottom lip.

Just as I was about to take a sip, I heard that same handsome model who served us earlier speaking in the distance.

Since the restaurant wasn’t too busy today with now only around two other full tables left (one of them being us), I was able to hear his voice be significantly clearer than the remaining background noise.

“Oh you’re here? That took a while, when d'ya finish work?” The worker said aloud.

Curious, I averted my gaze to the man whilst taking a gulp of my drink.

…

“Oh my god.” I mumbled to myself in English then accidentally choked to death on the beverage. I was only able to stop my horrific coughing by patting my chest.

My heartbeat then drastically dropped to the bottom of my body at the speed of light.

I had to blink a couple more times really hard to check if I finally lost it and my breathing went utterly oxygen-starved throughout that… But to my misfortune, I can confirm that undoubtedly, it was him.

Kita Shinsuke, my ex-boyfriend.

He heard my irrelevant coughing fit. So suddenly without me preparing anything, our eyes met for probably the longest two seconds of my life while he was still in middle of talking to the other guy.

I silently gawked at him with the expression as if I saw my ancient ancestors walk back to life. But Kita on the other hand, showed literally no hints of surprise whatsoever.

Well. Of course he wouldn’t be surprised, this is Kita Shinsuke we’re talking about.

I am the one person who knows best that he’s a man with a heart of stone and nothing will shake him – not animals, not insects, not public speaking, not horror movies, not even my parents’ pressure. Then, there’s the other fact that he works in a farm where he could possibly threaten his life with the dangerous machinery like the humongous combine harvester.

So how can I, a mere ex-girlfriend, scare him?

I regretted looking over there. It took me a mental slap in the face, but I frantically turned away and pushed my thoughts far out my brain, pretending not to notice his presence.

It didn’t work. Even when I stopped staring, I yet felt his full attention on me like a piercing burn and I was much more agonized than necessary. Therefore I needed to find a way to escape, as melodramatic as it sounded.

“…”

“Oi, (Y/N) what is it?” Sumiko whispers in my ear, “Why are you so fidgety?”

I stood up instantaneously feeling like I was about to vomit. Then grabbing my phone I spoke to the group.

“Excuse me.” I said, slipping my shoes on, “I just remembered that I need to take an important call outside. I’ll be back.”

Sumiko furrowed her brows at me as the rest respectfully nodded.

In haste, I walked out fast through a different exit without seeming too suspicious. There was the most cringe-worthy gush in my body, when I felt myself leave the same building as Kita without taking a thought to look back, like I was some tragic heroine in a drama. Instead, I intently kept my eyes to the ground in high hopes that he’d simply ignore me too.

The truth was, I wasn’t going to call anyone and it was nothing more than a blatant lie. But I was terribly afraid, and wouldn’t have been able to sit still if I stayed there any longer. In the end, I chose to cowardly go outside and hide.

I dawdled around in the cold and looked left and right wishing someone I recognized would pop out then help take me home. I can go up to the group and say — sorry, quick change of plans, I need to leave for an urgent matter! Though for that to happen it would require the powers of a non-existent being.

There was another idea in the back of my brain to possibly call mom or dad — tell them that I miss them and want to come visit so my emotions can focus on my parents instead of someone else. But knowing what they’re like, it would be so random to them to the point they’d laugh, mock me and assume that I’m going crazy, so I gloomily chose not to contact anyone.

At this moment, there was too much nonsense in my mind from such a rurally short time frame. And I simply experienced bewilderment.

I felt that it was rather unusual, I haven’t seen or properly contacted Kita in three years or so. But when he walked in and stood there, he looked different. He cut his hair short, wore nicer clothes like the winter jacket I have never seen before. And in general, looked much more mature, a bit taller too.

Probably the most trivial thing about this was that I immediately, managed to spot him and notice all those features in the crowd when I could have had the chance to fixate on other stuff…

It was frustratingly confusing.

I leaned against the wall of the restaurant to think some more, the churning in my stomach refusing to soothe.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have fled like that…” I internalized, clutching my phone to the chest.

What I did, it truly felt like the only option at that minute, but now when recalling, it feels too rushed and anti-climactic. Yet I ran away like it was purely out of instinct, so is my disdain for Kita that lethal for me to flee like a prey?

Earlier, I actually wanted to tell Sumiko about Kita when I tapped her leg under the table, though she swatted my hand away, too busy talking to the others. But what use would she do anyways? She can’t do anything except have the same panicking reaction as me knowing what she’s like as well!

Subsequently it felt like I was grasping onto straws here. Sumiko is a walking idiot, my parents thinks I’ll die an idiot and Kita looked at me when I choked like an idiot.

I once told myself that if I saw his face ever again I will hold my head up high and not react, but in contrast, I did react and he didn’t… So this must mean that he’s over me and is looking forward to other things in his life. I expect that to be the wide case, because even in high school I remember him being oblivious to that fact that he was quite popular with other girls — and I also, being one of those fangirls…

If he has moved on I guess… that’s good for him…

Actually, whatever! I don’t care! There should be no reason for me to be entangled in him anymore, the past is in the past. I shouldn’t ponder over a silly ex story no longer!

In a determined manner, I inhaled my breaths and marched back and forth for a minute, checking my phone to see whether anyone would call me miraculously right at this moment.

Okay, no one called me. So I have to go back inside when I think it’s been long enough for no one to be skeptical.

“(Y/N).”

Oh my god.

Anyone would know who the voice belonged to, so I shakily put my phone to my ear pretending I was in a phone call, “… H-Hello, sister are you there…? Yes – yes I am doing fine…”

“(L/N) (Y/N).”

“…”

It was only when he used my full name, I stopped playing — my head hesitantly turning to him as I lowered the device that wasn’t even switched on.

Kita was wearing his jacket, hands in pockets, head very slightly inclined to the side in order to earn a better look at me. The tips of his hair in the middle were drooping when I stared at him, and he smiled ever so gently at me.

I can’t really think of any words to express how that damned smile made me feel other than the aching in my heart… It was that very same friendly smile where the corner of his lips quirked, as if we just had dinner and watched movies together last night.

He takes a momentary pause, observing me with a now neutral face. The lighting from behind him also making him look really good.

“Long time no see.” He said.

I turned apprehensive but nodded, “Long time no see…”

He takes a step closer and I shuffle away a little in a subtle way, “Uh — Kita what brings you here?”

“I always come here.”

“Oh, is that so? I don’t see you here a lot.” I spoke without thinking for the second time tonight. I realized that what I said was untruthful of me, so I bit down my tongue.

“Odd.” He says dryly, “I am here often. I help around sometimes too.”

Yeah. And this is why you shouldn’t ever lie.

He takes more steps so he could lean against the exterior walls of the restaurant, right beside me.

When stealthily glancing at Kita, I saw him take his hands out his pockets so he could cross his arms to his chest instead.

Now, his proximity was fairly close — and by fairly close I mean that his shoulder is touching my shoulder. Due to that, whole body tensed up… I wanted to dig a hole and dive right into it, because I just knew, he did that on purpose.

……

“Which one are you with?” He speaks between our silence.

“Huh?”

Kita quietens again, then clarifies his previous question, “In that group. Which one are you dating?”

“Ah… None.” I reply with minimalism.

“Which are you going to date?”

The questions were hurting me, I don’t know why.

“None of them…” I trailed.

“Then why are you with them?” He logically asks another question.

I was in a frozen state of self-pity.

Maybe if I do another white-lie, saying that I was here because I’m popular with my co-worker’s he’d believe me, though that’s never the case and Kita would prefer to mock me with a cruel tone.

“I’m here because… This place sells very yummy food.” I said with great breaths of excretion.

Kita actually chuckled at my reply, “So you joined a goukon for the food?”

What! How did he even know it’s a goukon?!

I turned my head to face him properly, “What makes you think this is a goukon? No one told you that, unless you eavesdropped on us!”

“The men are sitting opposite to the women.” He quite frankly explains, “It’s very obvious.”

My brows pinched in embarrassment, and I felt a tiny blush, “N-No it can’t be that obvious, can it?”

“It is. And I’m surprised. You never liked this kind of stuff.”

Did you hear that? He’s surprised!

All of a sudden hearing him say that he was surprised made me experience this prang of egoism in my chest, and so I raised my chin up, “I’m doing it because I want to. And I do like it.”

He chuckles again, making my heart twist painfully and that recent ego shrivel too early, “Oh? Well if (Y/N) likes it, I expect her to enjoy herself tonight.” Wait, I’m confused again. Should I take it sarcastically or is he truly being modest? Should I be happy or sad or scared?

“Make sure to have fun.” He says.

My animalistic instincts told me that he’s doubting me in something, I just don’t know what… It was like a challenge, it made me feel challenged. I’ll accept that challenge.

Eventually, I cleared my throat to speak once more, “If that’s all you have to say then excuse me, I’m going to go back to join them. Goodbye.”

He nods with a smile as I walked past him for the second time, in this version I was doing it with more arrogance.

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williamlwolf89 · 4 years

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Whether you’re a seasoned freelance writer or a new writer with no experience, online writing jobs that pay are still plentiful in 2020 — if:

You know where to look…

You know how to promote yourself…

And you know how to differentiate yourself from your fellow freelance writers.

That’s where we come in.

If you’re a freelance writer who wants to earn a full-time or part-time income doing what you love, this definitive, A-to-Z resource will help you do just that.

Let’s dive in.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: 5 Steps to Help You Prepare

Chapter 2: 16 Under-the-Radar Writing Opportunities

Chapter 3: 14 Job Boards for Writers

Chapter 4: Freelancing Q&A

Get Your House in Order: 5 Steps to Help You Prepare (& Land More Freelance Writing Gigs)

The philosopher Seneca (allegedly) said, “luck is what happens when practice meets opportunity.”

The book of Galatians in the Bible tells us we reap what we sow.

Stephen King put it this way:

“Talent is cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work.”

The common theme? Success tends to find those who are prepared for it.

As a writer, here are four things you should do to prepare for freelancing glory:

1. Create a Writing Portfolio That Kicks Butt

“Do you have writing samples?” “Can I see some of your writing work?” “What are some high-quality articles you’ve written?”

As a freelance writer, you’ll hear questions like these often.

And your answer?

Here’s a link to my writing portfolio.

At least, that should be your answer. But unfortunately, many freelancers skip the whole “prove you actually know how to write” thing.

As Scott Weiland once sang, “let the proof be in the pudding, sugar.”

Don’t simply tell prospective clients that you’re an amazing freelance content writer. And don’t assume they already know you’re the cat’s meow and the bee’s knees.

Show them.

2. Supercharge Your Writing Skills

Unless you want to spend your freelance writing career slumming through online content mills with entry-level job ads that pay peanuts, you need to level up your content creation skills.

Because those high-paying freelance writer jobs you lay awake dreaming about? Companies don’t hand them to just anyone.

They give them to the best writers — content creators who:

Realize the importance of SEO (and can create SEO content with both readers and Google in mind);

Understand the importance of proofreading and submitting error-free work;

Write fast, meet deadlines for their writing projects, and are seemingly immune to writer’s block;

Craft amazing headlines, write with clarity, and support their points with examples;

Have top-notch communication skills;

Can connect with readers on an emotional level.

The good news?

With hard work, anyone can improve their writing skills. And for the few who are willing to roll up their sleeves and do it, the payoff can be huge.

This site is filled with helpful how-to articles on copywriting, content writing, writing contests, content marketing, article writing, and SEO. And if you need training, we have that too.

Further Reading: How to Become a Better Writer: 14 Tips to Up Your Writing Game in 2020 shares our favorite must-have skills for writers. Read it, bookmark it, and come back to it again and again.

3. Ask for Testimonials

Have you already landed a writing job or two? Awesome.

Did you ask the client to give you a testimonial? A few words declaring their undying love and/or satisfaction with your work (that you can use to help you land more writing clients)?

No? Well, you’re not alone.

So how should you ask for one? Keep it simple.

Here’s how Karen MacKenzie asked for a testimonial after we published her first post on Smart Blogger:

“Would it be possible to get a testimonial for my website? I know you are really busy, but I’d really appreciate it.”

And because Karen did such a good job on her post, I was happy to give her the following testimonial:

Want a great testimonial like Karen’s?

Create testimonial-worthy content for your clients and then — this is key — ask them for a freakin’ testimonial.

4. Learn How to Craft a Killer Author Bio

Picture it:

A wealthy business owner sitting in a Herman Miller chair on top of a rug made out of recycled Herman Miller chairs is reading an article you’ve written.

She’s impressed. She calls to her butler, Jeeves, and asks him to bring one of her suitcases filled with money.

Your article is so good, she wants to hire you.

But then she gets to your byline — the one you threw together at the last minute. The one that lists your hobbies and has no clear call to action.

“Throw the suitcase in the fire, Jeeves,” she says. “I shan’t be hiring a writer today.”

If you don’t want this totally realistic scenario to happen to you, you need to get really good at writing author bios.

Why?

Because someone who’s made it to your author bio is primed. They’ve read your work and want to learn about the attractive, intelligent individual who wrote it.

Maybe they want to check out your website content. Maybe they want to find you on social media so they can follow you.

Or maybe they want your contact info so they can hire you.

A byline should shout to the world your expertise. It should say to prospective clients, “if you thought this article was great, you should hire me and see what I can do for you.”

Taking the time to craft a great one is time well spent.

5. Know How to Write a Pitch

Few people enjoy cold pitching to prospective clients.

But you know what?

The writers who are willing to do it have an edge. And the ones who are good at it — and I mean really freakin’ good at it — are never more than an email or two away from snagging a new writing job.

So how do you get really freakin’ good at cold pitches? For starters, don’t make these rookie mistakes:

Don’t write long emails. Editors and clients are busy. Respect their time.

Don’t send the exact same pitch to different people. Every editor and every client has unique needs, audiences, and styles.

Don’t ignore their guidelines. Want a sure-fire way to have your email deleted? Pitch to a website that has clearly stated submission guidelines, but ignore said guidelines.

But just as importantly, do these things:

Research. Do your homework.

Find the name of the person you’re pitching to. Address the person by name in your email.

Get to the point. Don’t beat around the bush. Tell them what you want and why.

Sell them on you. Popular websites receive pitches all the time. Why should they hire you? Explain it to them.

These pointers and more (as well as email templates) can be found in our post, How to Write a Pitch That’ll Wow Editors & Clients.

Read it, bookmark it, and reference it often.

Pound the Pavement: 16 Hacks for Finding Under-the-Radar Writing Opportunities

Anyone can find a job board and search for online writing jobs.

But that’s both a good and bad thing — anyone can do it.

That awesome writing job you found online? The one you’d be perfect for? Fifty other “perfect” people found it too.

We’ll go over some great job board options in a moment (because they do have lots to offer new freelance writers), but first we’ll take a trip down the road less traveled.

For example, did you know you could…

1. Use Twitter to Reverse-Engineer Online Writing Jobs

Want an outside-the-box way to find writing job opportunities?

Try Twitter’s advanced search engine.

In the example below, I searched for tweets that included the phrase “writer wanted”:

Click “Search” and you’ll see a list of tweets with various job postings for writers:

Scroll through the list and tweak your job search, as needed.

Some of the results will be scams, but most will be legitimate. Many will be for remote writing jobs, but some will be location specific (usually New York, Los Angeles, Seattle, San Francisco, Miami, Washington D.C., Dallas, Saint Paul, Minneapolis, Portland, and other major cities in the United States). Just skip over the ones that don’t apply to you.

If you look at “Top” tweets, as shown in the screenshot above, you’ll find brand-new jobs mixed with older ones. Click “Latest” if you want to see recent tweets first.

Tip: When you find a tweet for a job that shows promise, click Twitter’s like/heart icon. That way you’ll be able to easily find your shortlisted tweets later.

The nice thing about Twitter’s advanced search feature is it’s only limited by your imagination.

That’ll give you a list of websites that accept guest posts, which you can later whittle down (after you’ve done a little more research) into a list of sites that pay guest writers.

Wash, rinse, and repeat.

2. Follow Leads on Social Media

When you use Twitter’s advanced search feature to find freelance writing jobs online, you’ll discover certain Twitter handles pop up fairly frequently.

One example is @write_jobs:

When you find a good lead, follow them. That way you can cut through the noise of Twitter and go straight to your best sources.

Even better?

Add them to a private Twitter list so that tweets from all your leads can be found in one handy repository.

Here’s how you do it:

Here are a few more handles to get your Twitter list started:

@FreelanceWJ

@WhoPaysWriters

@jjobs_tweets

3. Check Out Agency Job Postings

Everyone likes to talk about job boards (which, again, we’ll discuss in a moment). But you know what resource most freelance writers ignore?

Agencies.

Per Jon:

One of the best potential clients is agencies, because they usually have an ongoing need for writers. Instead of only getting paid once, you can develop a relationship with a few and get new freelance blogging gigs for months or even years into the future. How to Become a Freelance Writer, Starting from Scratch

So how can you get work from agencies? Well, you could contact them directly and ask if they have any freelance work (Jon calls this a “gutsy but effective approach”).

The other way is to keep checking their “career” page:

The Content Marketing Institute maintains a detailed database of agencies. Click here to check it out.

4. Find (and Woo) Clients on Their Turf

Most articles that tout social media as a good place to find leads will point you to Facebook Groups.

And it makes sense. After all, search Facebook for “writing jobs”, click the “Groups” tab, and you’ll see dozens and dozens of options that are open to the public:

If you’re looking for a safe space where like minded individuals offer tips, advice, and writing inspiration; such groups are great.

But if you’re looking to find paying gigs, you’ll likely be left wanting.

That’s not to say Facebook Groups can’t lead to online writing jobs that pay. The trick is you need to find groups where the buyers, not the sellers, hang out.

Think “masterminds”, “think tanks”, etc.

Of course, that’s easier said than done. Such groups are usually private. So, what’s a writer to do?

Skip the Facebook Groups. Go Straight to the Sources.

One of the amazing things about technology is the way it allows us to connect and interact with people with whom we’d otherwise never have the opportunity.

Want to write for a mover and shaker in your industry? Want to befriend an influencer who can open doors for you (the kind of doors that lead to paying jobs)?

Make a connection. Be generous. Give without asking or expecting anything in return.

That means following them on Twitter, sharing their content, and interacting with them. It means subscribing to their email list.

And, yes, it may mean buying one of their products. Because here’s the thing:

And that includes pointing leads in your direction.

5. Pitch to Software Company Blogs