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aspenroman · 3 years

Text

and i saw sparks (jaque x mc)

Summary: MC struggles to pick up the pieces after her catastrophic fight with Jaque.

Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2515

A/N: I caved and bought VIP and binged Ms. Match. I adored it, it was so fucking funny but I wish there was more angst. This is my continuation of Chapter 12 and 13 but with more sadness. Inspired by the song “sparks” by coldplay. bold and italicized words are lyrics from the song

did i drive you away? i know what you’ll say

MC can’t focus on anything besides the rushing of blood in her ears. Her entire nervous system is overwhelmed by everything going on, especially the betrayal by Jaque. Her dad has disappeared, run off somewhere and instead of being able to chase after him, she’s stuck here with her, in a dumb argument.

“You threw Veronica, my dad, me, and your own integrity under the bus tonight, Jaque. You can’t talk your way out of this one,” MC screams.

Jaque rolls her eyes, “You backed me into a corner! I had no choice! No good choice! Veronica likes your dad! A lot! Richard was the only one who might be able to win against that connection.”

you’ll say, “sing one we know”

“Veronica could be happy with my dad. That’s what she asked us to find her. Love. I can’t believe you forgot what this is all about.”

Jaque laughs, her annoyingly beautiful face contorting into a sneer, “No, you forgot what this is all about.”

She began to pace as she spoke, practically spinning in place as she huffs. MC watches on, her fists clenched.

“When does what I want get to matter? When do I get to live my dreams? Why do I have to fight you for the position of my dreams?” Jaque shouts, her voice cracking at the end with emotion.

i promise you this, i’ll always look out for you

Deep down, MC feels sympathy for her. But the twinge of sympathy is buried by overflowing anger and hurt. She pushes any kind feelings aside, focusing instead on her rage.

“You’re insane,” MC breathes.

i say “oh”, i say “oh”

Jaque turns on her, laughing bitterly, “Insane? I’m insane? What’s insane is that you managed to blunder your way to the finale. I spent a decade earning my position, you’re lucky I brought you to the gala. I’m the only reason you’re here.”

“Lucky? I don’t feel very lucky to have met you right now,” MC shakes her head, “I really thought you were more than...more than this. I thought you were more than the woman I met forever ago. I thought you had morals, I thought you had a heart, I thought...”

“You thought what?” Jaque’s voice lowers from a shout, but her tone is still strained with frustration.

my heart is yours, it’s you that i hold on to

“I thought you loved me, the same way I love you,” MC smiles weakly, but her eyes water.

Jaque doesn’t meet her eyes. MC takes a step forward and Jaque steps back.

“Well, you thought wrong. It was always about the competition, love was never in the equation,” Jaque says tersely, “what we had wasn’t love. It was lust.”

yeah that’s what i do

“You’re telling me you took me to meet your mom just so Richard could get those flowers? You’re telling me all those times you showed up unannounced, all those secret glances and touches were fake? All a part of some elaborate plan?” MC questions.

“Yeah,” Jaque still doesn’t meet her eyes, “and you played right into my plans. I barely had to lift a finger, you were too busy falling to realize I was never going to catch you.”

MC freezes, the words finally sinking in. She can feel the gazes of hundreds of people on her, watching her heart shatter into billions of pieces. Some sadistic part of her hopes that the fragments manage to hurt Jaque, but MC knows that’s not really how this works. She knows she gave her heart to someone who was never really hers.

It makes sense now. All the dancing around labels, all the sneaking around in favor of “not breaking the rules”. All the things Jaque spew about her family, in an effort to get MC to trust her. Jaque was right about one thing, she had more experience professionally. And in that moment, it seemed to MC that Jaque used every technique to get MC to think they were perfect matches.

i say “oh”, i cry “oh”

MC can’t get her brain to form words, all she can concentrate on is not falling completely apart. Her eyes sting, but she doesn’t look up, she can’t. Instead, she trains her gaze on the road a few feet away. She doesn’t say anything as she goes, she just starts in one direction.

Jaque yells after her, but the words don’t even phase her. In fact, MC can’t even remember what she said. She walks for miles, away from the gaudy life of the rich Upstate New Yorkers and back toward where she thinks the city is. It takes almost an hour before she spots a cab and manages to flag it down. It’s a miracle she even finds one, and she gets in and mumbles her address.

She hugs herself in the back of the cab, eyes staring unseeingly out the window. Soon enough, the bright lights of the city that never sleeps come into view. She thinks it should be a comfort, but it doesn’t help. When MC finally gets to her place, she pays the fare and stumbles up into her apartment.

As soon as the door is unlocked, she walks inside and slams it behind her. MC barely manages to lock it before her legs give out and she crumbles to the ground. Her chest heaves for breath, her throat closing up as she panics. Tears stream down her cheeks, unable to control herself anymore. Her nails dig into her palms, trying desperately to calm herself down.

yeah, i saw sparks

She’s had panic attacks before, more so in the past few months because of the matchmaking business. Although then she had Jaque to call up and now she has no one. She can’t rationalize how Jaque would be willing to call her at 2am, to hold her through breakdowns, and not care an ounce about her.

yeah, i saw sparks

MC tries to intellectualize her feelings, tries to calm herself down the way Jaque taught her to, but nothing works. Nothing works because everything reminds her of Jaque and Jaque is the one causing her this pain. Her heart aches and for a second, she thinks she might be dying as her chest tightens. A pain from behind her sternum makes it hard to breathe and she loses her breath, before it releases in a big sob.

She’s not okay.

---

Maggie tries to come over the next day, but MC can’t face her. She ignores Maggie’s desperate knocking, pretending that she’s asleep and turns her phone off completely. The rest of the weekend passes in a daze, MC unable to do anything but stare at the ceiling and dwell in her feelings.

When Monday rolls around, MC knows it’s time to pull herself together. She doesn’t know how she will, but she has to.

“No competition is worth this,” she murmurs to herself as she pulls on her favorite blouse and a pair of dress pants. She fixes her hair in the bathroom mirror, putting on makeup to cover the bags underneath her eyes. Her eyes are still swollen and a bit red, but she tries not to draw attention to them.

She finally turns her phone on as she enters the building, her phone vibrating with a billion messages. Most are from Maggie, while some are surprisingly from Jaque. MC doesn’t even bother reading them as she sees the text from Veronica, summoning her to her office.

and i saw sparks

MC knocks on the office door and after a second, she enters. Unsurprisingly, Jaque is already there, engaged in deep conversation with Veronica. They both turn to her as she enters.

“Where have you been?” Veronica speaks, “I’ve been trying to contact you all weekend.”

“Family stuff, won’t happen again,” MC lies, forcing on a smile.

“Good,” Veronica pinches the bridge of her nose, “onto more pressing matters, we’ve had an unexpected request from-”

Veronica keeps talking, but MC tunes her out. Instead, she keeps her eyes glued to the space behind Veronica’s head. MC can feel Jaque’s intense gaze on her, but she refuses to look at her. She doesn’t think she can bear it right now.

“Dismissed,” Veronica finishes and MC nods, swiftly leaving the room. She walks briskly down the hall and into her office.

Sunlight streams through her windows. Without hesitation, MC slams the blinds closed, plunging the room into darkness. She closes and locks her office door before settling into her chair. The room feels colder somehow, without the presence of either Maggie or Jaque.

MC takes a shaky breath, resting her elbows on the table. She closes her eyes, putting her head between her hands. The darkness of the room brings her comfort. She doesn’t know how much time she spends like that, before she finally pulls herself together.

Turning on her computer, she searches the database for the person Veronica was talking about. MC missed most of the debriefing, but luckily the system had already assigned the client to her and Jaque. She spends some time going through the man’s profile, making notes in a separate document.

Hours pass like that, MC hunched over her computer and trying to make sense of this “unmatchable” person and finding people who might like him. She has spreadsheet after spreadsheet, trying to do things the analytical way. Jaque’s way, her brain reminds her and it stirs up a bitter feeling.

“I can’t fucking do this,” MC mumbles, standing up from her chair. She can’t matchmake when her own love life is in shambles, when every piece of advice she used and gave to other people made her blind. How can she give advice out, when no one loves her? She has no prospects anymore, it’s pathetic.

MC paces back and forth, trying to decide what to do. Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door and she freezes.

yeah, i saw sparks

“I know you’re in there,” Jaque’s voice rings out, “everyone else already went home. It’s almost seven.”

MC glances at her phone, to see Jaque’s words are true. She doesn’t even feel hungry, even though she hasn’t eaten today. She just feels empty. Without saying anything, MC sits down in front of the door, resting her back against it.

“Can you unlock the door? Can we talk, please?” Jaque pleads.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” MC says plainly, her voice hoarse still from their screaming match.

“I get it,” Jaque’s voice is softer and MC can hear her sit down on the other side of the door, “just give me five minutes, that’s all I ask.”

“Okay,” MC concedes, closing her eyes.

“I lied on Friday, okay? I was angry and I took it out on you. Veronica’s been like...like family to me. I thought that maybe if her and Richard could get back together, it would be like fixing my parents’ divorce. And I... I was jealous. You’re a really good matchmaker, like really good. And, it’s scary,” Jaque tells her.

“This competition isn’t worth it,” MC ignores most of her statement, “you can have the CEO spot. I’m quitting anyways.”

“What?” Jaque says.

“If I can’t even keep my personal life from falling apart, I shouldn’t be a matchmaker,” MC’s voice cracks, “everything I’ve told my clients, I followed and it didn’t work out. I shouldn’t be here.”

“You should be here, you deserve to be here, are you...are you crying?” Jaque’s voice is surprisingly gentle.

“No,” MC sniffles, tears running down her cheeks.

“Please, just open the door MC, let me explain,” Jaque murmurs, “please baby.”

MC rubs at her eyes, taking in a shaky breath as she stands up and reluctantly unlocks the door. She takes a step back. The door gently swings open, light from the hall flooding into the room.

Jaque is silhouetted by the light, and MC hates how effortlessly put together she seems. Still, when Jaque takes a step forward, MC sees the tears in her eyes.

sing it out

Jaque takes one look at her and then breaks out into sobs. Alarmed, MC’s eyes widen as Jaque’s shoulders shake. She takes a hesitant step forward before wrapping her arms around her. Jaque leans into the embrace.

“I lied, okay? I lied,” Jaque says through sobs, “I love you, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life and I thought that if I just pushed you away I could win. But I can’t, I can’t deny what you make me feel. This competition isn’t worth losing you, nothing is worth losing you. You’re...you’re my match, MC. As soon as you left on Friday, I ran after you. I got into the first cab and made my way to your apartment. But I couldn’t even take a step inside, I’m a coward, okay? I...I thought pushing you away would solve my problems. But that’s not how this work, love isn’t something you can hide. Fuck the competition, fuck the CEO role, fuck everything. None of that means anything to me, if I can’t have you.”

Jaque clings to her, her fingertips digging into MC’s shoulder blades. MC is content with letting Jaque hurt her, if only to feel her in her arms one last time.

“You really hurt me, Jaque, one apology won’t fix that,” MC says.

“I know, but would it help if we have makeup sex?” Jaque jokes before sniffling.

“You’re on thin ice,” MC rolls her eyes.

“...That wasn’t a no,” Jaque tells her.

MC pulls back, hitting her on the arm. Jaque yelps before a soft smile breaks out on her face.

“Just please stay here, even if you don’t want to take me back, that’s okay. Just please stay with the company, with Veronica, with-, with me,” Jaque says to her, eyes sparkling.

MC mulls it over before she nods, “Okay.”

“Can I kiss you, please?” Jaque says desperately.

MC rolls her eyes again before grabbing onto Jaque’s collar and pulling her close. Their lips meet, the taste of mint toothpaste mixing with the salt from their tears. It’s a slow, gentle kiss and MC is the first one to break it.

“Did you just brush your teeth?” MC murmurs.

Jaque grins, “Maybe.”

MC lets out a quiet laugh, “You’re a dork.”

“But I’m your dork,” Jaque says.

“You act like I forgive you already, one kiss won’t change that,” MC tells her honestly.

“I know, but it doesn’t hurt,” Jaque smiles before kissing her again.

When they finally pull away to breathe, Jaque grins at her. MC smiles up at her, a half-smile but it’s the most she can muster. The hurt from Jaque’s words won’t fade overnight and they’re far from being official, but MC feels a little less shaky about where they’re at. Maybe it would be good to take things slow, try and approach things like a normal couple would-

“Is it time for makeup sex?” Jaque whispers.

Or not.

#ms match #playchoices #choices: stories you play #choices #jack x mc #angst #my writing #mine #hurt/comfort #wlw #jaque x mc #jaqueline monroe #jaqueline x mc

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rockhoochie · 4 years

Text

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean insists he has a talent of tongue. You decide to to put him to the test.

WC: ~1400

Warnings: light bondage (use of restraints, blindfold), voyeurism if you squint, no actual sex just lots and lots of dirty talk (which includes: masturbation, oral sex, squirting, ass play)

A/N: No set up, no plot, just Dean talking all kinds of filthy in a drabble that got away from me .@the-chocolate-moose, thanks for the prompt/request! Obviously got my juices flowing...Thanks for reading and enjoy!

Dean insisted he could make a woman come without actually touching her.

You insisted he was full of shit - it takes a lot more than dirty talk to actually get a woman off.

But he wouldn’t let it go, adamantly proclaiming it to be true, so sure of himself that he quipped, “wanna bet?” Never one to miss an opportunity to be right, you accepted with an incredulous “talk is cheap, asshole, you’re on.”

And that’s how you found yourself in the dungeon, wrists and ankles gently but firmly bound to the chair you sat on, fully clothed, and one of Dean’s neckties stretched over your eyes.

He’d been quiet for a few minutes now...you could hear his footsteps walking circles around you, hear his steady breathing. He was probably waiting for you to stop giggling like an idiot.

You had to admit, you wondered if he was actually as good at this as he claimed to be. His looks alone were enough to whip any woman into a frenzy; add in some naughty words and saucy phrases tumbling from those plush lips, carried by that sexy, gravelly voice, and…

“You sure look pretty like this, YN, all tied up and eager. Like you’re ready for anything. Then again, you look sexy as hell all the time.”

Your eyes rolled up into your head, lashes fluttering against the silky blindfold. This wasn’t fair - you didn’t think he’d literally be muttering into your ear, the heat of his breath warming the skin just behind it, the lightest vibration of his lips buzzing against your flesh.

“You got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this, sweetheart...to have a chance to tell you how much I think about you, tell you all the dirty things I think about…”

You exhaled, a little surprised at how ragged it sounded. And when you breathed in again, the air seemed warmer, thicker...it made your limbs feel a little heavy and your skin seemed to be covered with goosebumps.

“I think about you all the time, YN,” Dean continued, dropping his voice lower. “So beautiful...you got no clue how beautiful you are to me. Everything about you... the way you laugh, smile... I just love watching you do anything. Sometimes you drive me damn near crazy.”

All those words were somehow seeping into your pores. You could feel your nipples harden against your bra and you suddenly felt hot.

“I got a confession to make... walked in on you in the shower once. You didn’t see me but I saw you, all wet and naked, hot water running over your perfect tits and down the crack of your tight ass... Christ, just the sight of you got me so fucking hard...thought about that for weeks. Still picture it when I’m jerking off, thinking about all the things I wanna do to you…”

You licked your lips and swallowed - your throat felt dry. And there was a tension crimping in your belly and you felt the faint the beat of your pulse between your legs.

Damn it.

A whimper escaped your lips - you couldn’t help it.

“You make the prettiest sounds, YN... you know, I can hear you when you’re fucking yourself. All those little moans and sighs...and I imagine you’re laid out your bed, one little hand playing with your tits while you have the other working between your legs, wet fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy... then I start wondering what I could do to get you to make those noises for me.”

You squirmed in your seat, a flush spreading all through your veins.

“I know I’d kiss you first. Long and hard, just taking in the taste of your lips. And once I get my tongue in your mouth I’d start taking off your clothes, strip you down to your panties, and touch every single inch of your gorgeous body... sweetheart, you’re so soft and and smell so fucking good, but touching you ain’t enough...I gotta kiss you everywhere. Your neck, shoulders, fingers, your tits...I’ll spend time on your tits. Maybe suck on them for awhile, give those pink nipples a little bite.”

“Dean…” you whispered, hips rolling of their own volition, your core reaching out and coming back with nothing.

He hummed, planting little kisses behind your ear, lightly pulling your earlobe between his teeth. “Bet you’re getting so wet right now…”

“Please…”

His lips found a heavenly spot on your neck, and you felt him smile right before his teeth grazed your flesh.

“Your skin tastes so good...bet your hot little pussy tastes even better.”

“Holy fuck, Dean…”

“I knew it,” he growled, “You love getting eaten out, don’t you, YN? Love a head between your legs and a thick tongue fucking your tight hole...It’s so perfect cause when I’m jerking off, and gettin’ close to blowing it, I just imagine what you taste like...probably like fuckin’ honey, all sweet and warm. I think about gettin’ on my knees while you’re all spread out, legs wide open, that beautiful pussy on display just for me, and I can see how soaked you are...fuck, it drips out of you, and when I get closer I can smell how bad you want it, so I get myself a slow, sweet taste and lick up your cream…”

You were completely gone, lost in the haze of Dean’s voice and the pictures he was painting with his sinfully delicious words, your breaths coming faster while your limbs strained against the ropes.

“Mmm, fuck baby, you taste so good...so fucking wet and I’m just devouring that pussy, licking up every drop... I just can’t get enough, can’t get my tongue far enough inside of you so I’ll slide my fingers deep into your hot cunt, find that sweet spot and fuck you with my hand...and you keep begging for more so I’ll bury myself three fingers deep...maybe slip one in your ass…”

The noise you made at that was beyond pathetic, but you just didn’t care. He was making you insane.

Dean chuckled, nibbling at your neck, and running a palm along each of your thighs.

“Oh you’d like that, huh? Such a dirty girl ...yeah, I’ll make you cum so hard you’ll squirt, YN... I’ll keep nailing that sweet spot over and over, fucking your tight asshole with my finger and sucking your clit until you cum all over my face…”

You were trembling, back arching, moaning and sighing and begging. Slick had pooled at your entrance. Your clit was throbbing. The muscles of your cunt twitched and grasped at nothing, begging to be touched and filled and fucked…

“Then I’ll flip you over on your hands and knees, fuck you from behind and make you cum again... give you my thick cock so I can feel you clench and quiver all over my dick…and you’ll take it so good, baby, you’ll take every single inch of it nice and deep and you’ll be screaming it feels so good, the way I’m fucking you so hard...you’ll beg for my cum, sweetheart, beg me to fill up your pussy ‘till it’s dripping out of you…”

“Oh god Dean, fuck!” you cried, and almost out of nowhere, your climax flooded through you, hot and needy and electric, spreading from your core to the tips of your fingers. Your blindfold was lifted, restraints loosened and removed as you panted, satisfied from release but wanting and needing so much more. When you were finally able to focus, you noticed Dean staring down at you, his bottom lip tucked behind his teeth and his hand palming at the bulge in his pants.

Without preamble you rushed him, crashing your lips against his as he grabbed the back of your thighs, hoisting you up in arms. You were vaguely aware of being carried down the hallway, and soon you were laid out on his bed, legs wrapped around his waist as Dean stared at you with dark, emerald eyes.

“YN, I -”

“Shh,” you hissed, placing a finger over his lips. “Talk is cheap. Now put up or shut up.”

Master List

Tagging the Collective (SPN Tag Spreadsheet, SPN Pond Tags, My Tags):

@mrswhozeewhatsis @myfanficlibrarium @itsemmyb @ezauraemmaline @matteson-crazed @crzcorgi @ellen-reincarnated1967 @gryffindorable713 @deandoesthingstome @deerlululucy @walkingencyclopediaoffandom @manawhaat @growleytria-blog @backbackbackagaynbitch @samtomydeanwinchester @supermoonpanda @sis-tafics @amaranthinecastiel @becs-bunker @meganwinchester1999 @kittenofdoomage @samanddeanwinchester67 @ferferelli @iridianuniverse @the-morning-star-falls @strange-inhumanity-blog @fangirling-instead-of-working @aprofoundbondwithdean @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @roxy-davenport @kayteonline @spnsimpleman @faith-in-dean @mamaimpala @winchesterfiesta @zanthiasplace @deanscarlett @sleep-silent-angel @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @trenchcoats-and-bees @curliesallovertheplace @jencharlan @thebunkerismyhome @feelmyroarrrr @fandom-book-nerd @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @tia58 @deansleatherj-acket @faegal04 @sunriserose1023 @saving-things-hunting-family @winchesterswoonathon @jotink78 @lucifer-in-leather @i-dont-know-how-to-write @everyday-supernatural-af @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @supernatural-jackles @babypieandwhiskey @chelsea-winchester @spn-fan-girl-173 @wheresthekillswitch @shelovesallthethings @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @revwinchester @klaineaholic @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @pinknerdpanda @quiddy-writes @taste-of-dean @atwistoffate @evilskank-inthemegacoven @there-must-be-a-lock @emoryhemsworth @winchestersmolder @hunterpuff @prompt-and-circumstances @bennyyh @bkwrm523 @cas-backwards-tie @castieltrash1 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @dr-dean @fandommaniacx @firefly-in-darkness @flamencodiva @frenchybell @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @impala-dreamer @just-another-winchester @memariana91 @nichelle-my-belle @plaidstiel-wormstache @ruined-by-destiel @samsgoddess @supernaturalyobessed @teamfreewill-imagine @waywardjoy @wevegotworktodo @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @wi-deangirl77 @winchester-family-business @winchester-writes @winecatsandpizza @adoptdontshoppets @alangel1895 @amandamdiehl @andkatiethings @apeshit7x @atc74 @becs-bunker @blackcherrywhiskey @claitynroberts @dean-winchesters-bacon @impossible-box @ivvitm1109 @just-another-busy-fangirl @kathaswings @maddiepants @mannls @meganywinchester @milo-winchester-4ever @mogaruke @mrs-meghan-winchester @mylovelydame21 @ohmychuckitssamanddean @p3nny4urth0ught5 @pisces-cutie @saltandburn67 @sassysupernaturalsweetheart @speakinvain @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @squirrel-moose-winchester @thinkwritexpress-official @waywardbaby @were-not-the-losechesters @whatareyousearchingfordean @thoughtslikeaminefield @spence-rreid @leyshabunny @feelmyroarrrr @akshi8278 @weepingwillowphoenix

#dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester smut #spn smut #dirty talk #spn fanfic

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wtfdavidsvlogs · 4 years

Note

Can I just get one big vlog squad imagine where reader is having a rough day and the squad makes them feel better maybe a party imagine or something similar

Sure girl hear ya are

Cause you had a bad day (V.S)

Warnings: pov being yelled at, drinking, swearing, angst, fluff

“It’s already 6:30, and you had all day to make these look amazing. These spreadsheets look like shit. You’re lazy, worthless, and obviously incompetent. Get your shit together and come back when you get your head out of your ass!” His words stung and made me feel like shit. I had been spending almost two weeks of two to three hour over time working on them. I was expecting a good result. Obviously, like always, my hopes are destroyed. He points at the door gesturing for me to leave.

“I’m sorry, sir.” I stood up to leave as tears finally fell from my eyes.

“Y/N,” He said gaining my attention again. I turn and quickly wiped the tears from my face.

“Yes sir?” I said with a quiet voice.

“You can actually just go home early today, and bring your things with you. We won’t be needing you here anymore.” He said without blinking. My mouth falls open and I let out a sob. I turn and leave his office quickly. I cover my mouth as I quickly speed walk to my desk to quickly get my things. People were already staring at me like I was insane. I tried to keep my eyes on what I was doing. It was hard when you could hear them talking about me five feet away from me as if I couldn’t hear them. I stood up infuriation the only emotion in mind.

“Cassandra, you have no fucking right to be talking about me when we all know that you don’t mind putting out for Hammond. Nick, you best keep your mouth shut before I whip my fucking phone at your thick head, you fake judgmental prick. And Angela, do you want to leave so that you’ll be spared or would you rather I bake your life, as well?” I stood there as all of their faces were etched with disgust and disbelief. I turn back around and grab the box I had with me full of my things. They all silently go back to work and I walk out of the office. I adjust my shirt and press the elevator button. I rotate my shoulder in order to raise the loosened, pesky strap. I groan with more frustration. I finally step into the elevator and press 1. The doors suddenly start to close slowly. I was carried down and put on the first floor. I exited the building and I was on the streets of downtown LA at night. Without any warning a semi truck comes down the streets and runs over the curb filled with the previous days rain water. I, thank God, was slashed head to toe in the filthy water. I gasp at the temperature. I was in shock that my day had already gone this badly. I went to sit on the bench as I felt more tears prick my eyes, this time more so from embarrassment. I take out my phone from my purse but to no avail, it was dead and there was not a single charger in sight. I hadn’t memorized any of their numbers so I couldn’t call them even if I did have access to a phone. So I just start walking. The drive was about fifteen minutes so I should be home in like two and a half maybe three hours tops.

I had been walking for about ten minutes until I saw a rambunctious little French Bulldog. I smiled at it and he started barking and getting all up in my business. It’s owner was desperately trying to get a hold of him. The french i’ve grabbed a hold of the fringes of my jeans and started ripping and running. My pant leg shortly was being torn up the side stopping at about my mid thigh. It’s owner finally caught him and deeply apologized. I looked down and about two feet up my leg was this giant strip of my pants gone. I sigh and look at the sky. I blinked as I suddenly felt a droplet of water hit my forehead.

“You are absolutely fucking joking. There is no way it’s raining right now. It started down pouring the very next second. My jaw falls open. It could not get worse than this I thought to myself. I kept trudging. No matter what, I just wanted to see my friends. The rain never let up, it rained for hours. All of my things slowly were being covered in water. It felt like I was going to just keep walking forever. It felt almost therapeutic. I could just gaze off and I didn’t have to focus on the pain I was feeling in my feet already. At this point I was just over half way finished with the trek I was on. I was crossing by a local park when I slipped on the smooth part of the side walk and my knees were the first thing to get impact. Bruised and bleeding I stood up and winced. I walked it off and kept going. The pain throbbing through out my knee like a fire in the dry wilderness. I only had about 45 minutes left of my journey. This is finally the home stretch, I thought. Of course, as it has been proven, I jinxed it. I finally started getting more towards the hills. With living in the hills however, when it rains, mud is your best friend. Mud will be anywhere that you don’t want it exactly when you don’t need it to be there. Like right now. My shoe slipped outward from under me and I fell into grass. Or what I thought was grass. I stood up and viewed what I was laying in. How about a 6 foot wide hole of straight wet nearly black mud? Oh yeah, I’d love to have that cascading down my back. I let out a yell of frustration. Yet, I kept walking. I was only about a half a mile away at this point. I was slow. My feet were dragging my eyes were heavy from crying and my face was droopy. My hair and clothes were just dripping. My knees were about to give let alone my poor destroyed feet in these overly expensive flats. I had finally reached David’s gate. I put in the code to open it and I immediately closed it. I trudge up to the door and rest my head on it as I knocked on the glass. I suddenly see Natalie stand up and walk towards the door. She looks up and see me standing there looking the way I do. She lets out a scream until she finally sees who I am. She quickly opens the door. I feel the warmth of an actual home again. I could finally discard these horrendous shoes. The rest of them had also stood up and were just staring at me. Without saying a word, I set my destroyed little box on the ground. I walk over to the kitchen to grab a red bull. I close the fridge as I cracked it open and took a couple of sips. I look back at all of them.

“Wanna tell us what the fuck happened to you, doll?” Jeff said before anybody.

“I was fired from my job. I screamed at three of my coworkers in front of 75+ people. I was hit with runoff water by a semi. I had to walk three hours to get back here cause I had no phone. I had my pants ripped by the cutest dog I’ve ever fucking seen. Then it started raining, more like down pouring nonstop. I scraped and bruised both of my knees. I fell into a huge thing of mud. My shoes are fucked. I’m sore, I’m upset and all I wanna do is shower and hang out with you guys for the night if that’s okay.” I said tears threatening to spill for the sixtieth time. My eyes were hurting at this point.

“Why didn’t you call one of us? We would have gotten you.” Zane said.

“Phone was dead and I didn’t have a charger or money to buy one.” I replied. “I just want to have a good night with you guys tonight is that okay? It’s literally all I have wanted since I left today.” They all nodded and I walked to the main bathroom. I finally turned on the hot water and discarded my clothes. The sopping wet dirty clothes that had been clinging to my skin making me freezing for hours. I stepped into the stream of hot water and sighed as relief overcame my body. The dirt running off of me, my body feeling warm. I spent 20 minutes in there.

“Nat, do you mind if I borrow some clothes I have nothing with me right now.” I yelled not fully opening the door and exposing myself. She came back five minutes later with a crop top and sweats. I threw my hair up and finally stepped out of the bathroom. Everyone there smiling at me. Zane and David moves so that I’d have a spot on the couch.

“Thank you.” I said quietly sitting down. I laid my head back and sighed at the relief from my feet finally not being in use.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Y/N. Why were you fired?” Jason asked.

“It seems like it was about these spreadsheet I was supposed to finish and have organized correctly but like always something was off. You know what, Hammond is a God Damn bully! After everything I have done for him and to protect his company from tanking, I should be the fucking CEO at this point! That motherfucker spends 20% of the company’s monthly earnings on drugs, alcohol, and strippers for his monthly ‘conference calls’ with other heads of the different branches. All of them are rich, scummy, lazy, entitled pieces of human fucking waste! The spreadsheets that I had spent my personal work time and nearly 15 hours of my overtime all for him to scream in my face that I’m lazy, worthless, and incompetent and then firing me. I am one of the best employees he has had in 20 years. I was being worked like a dog for days and weeks on end. All while being completely alone in the office due to the judgmental assholes that would eat shit straight out of Hammonds ass if it meant they kept their job.” I yelled about everything. Every part of working in that hell hole of a job. All of them shaking their head listening to the crude and annoying behavior of my old boss.

“I just don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do now, you know. I have to make house and car payments in a couple days and my last check will not even remotely be enough to cover it.” I said rubbing my head.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that part of things. I got you covered.” David said to me.

“David. No. I can’t take money from you.” I said not wanting to have to ultimately need to pay him back at some point.

“Y/N. You are our friend, I will take care of you for however long you need until you can start working again. No question.” David said holding my shoulders and looking me directly in the eye. I closed my eyes, reluctantly accepting his offer. “Perfect now that that is settled. I want to drink and Y/N I know for a fact you do too after your day honey.” Todd said with Zane backing him up. A smile comes to my face.

“Fuck yes.”

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goldrushzukka · 3 years

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author interview tag

i was tagged by @klabautermanns and @voidcenturyscholar !! thanks babes

Name: alex!!! hello :)

Fandom(s): my main right now is avatar: the last airbender, but i've written supernatural and mcu in the past. i've only got the one fic and it's unfinished currently, but before atla my main focus was it's always sunny in philadelphia

Where You Post: ao3 @ nebulastucky

Most Popular One-Shot: by the light of a payphone, my first ever supernatural episode coda (13x05 advanced thanatology)

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Fic: isn't this the vision that you wanted. it's about to break 15k hits which is insane to me!!!! i'm writing a sequel for the zukka big bang and i'm very excited to see how it turns out :))

Favourite Story You've Written So Far: this is an impossible question. it's like asking a mother to choose a favourite child. i guess right now it's and i'll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) because that's what i spend the most time thinking about. i'm also really proud of my captain marvel identity study fic, take this pink ribbon off my eyes

Fic You Were Nervous To Post: we had a moment, we had a summertime was my first atla fic, and my first fic after taking a long break from writing for college and dealing with pandemic stress. i did not expect it to do well at all, but it's now one of my most popular fics and ive even had a podfic offer on it!! (@kingtysonsworld im incredibly excited!!! thank you again!!!!)

How You Choose Your Titles: i take mostly from song lyrics. i have a colour-coded spreadsheet to keep track of lyrics i think would make good titles (drop me a message or an ask of you want to check it out!!!!)

Do You Outline?: i do and i don't? for long fics like a big bang i do; those can get up to a few pages long. but mostly i don't like to plan fics out in too much detail, i find it restrictive. i'm a much more loosey goosey kind of writer. i take notes if i have an idea for a scene later in the fic, but for most of my work that's the extent of my outlining process

Complete: isn't this the vision that you wanted and we had a moment, we had a summertime are both complete, though vision is the first part in a series. everything else (excepting the answer to the next question) is a one-shot.

In Progress: i'm working on my zukka big bang fic all the time, but my current published WIP is and i'll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) and i'm hoping to have the next chapter done over the weekend. i'm not actively working on it right now bc i have so many other projects going and absolutely no control over where my attention goes, but i also have just another graceless night in progress.

Coming Soon: chapter 3 of and i'll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands), my zukka big bang, and honestly? probably more supernatural coda fics depending on how these last couple of episodes go.

Do You Accept Prompts: YES!!!! my askbox is always open!!!!!

Upcoming Story You're Most Excited To Write?: my zukka big bang fic!! it's a real win for us yearny bitches i'll tell you that much

Upcoming Story You're Most Excited About: i'm not reading a lot of fic right now bc i'm writing so much, but if you're not reading diners, drive-ins and dumbasses or breakable heaven then consider this a direct order.

uhhhhhh i have no idea who to tag bc i dont know who's done this yet so @sokkadyke and @crosspin you're up i guess

#mine #asks #technically? i guess?#my writing #klabautermanns #voidcenturyscholar #thank you so much for the tag guys 🥰🥰🥰

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gaitwae · 4 years

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Beyond Words, Darling •||• 3

Summary: With what started as a dream, Mary Crawley realizes just in the nick of time that her new love is the last person she expected. (canon defiant season 5 afterwards)

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Mary was unsure of what to feel, to say the least. Walking into her room to get ready for dinner, she realized she was in a daze. It was just a soft peck to her hair, yet she was holding onto so many things. Tom’s soft embrace; the sharp but sweet smell of cologne and honey; how Branson held her face like she was breakable. Delicate.

Mary wanted to feel breakable to someone again.

“Oh, Anna, this is dreadful,” she cried, relieved to see her lady’s maid. She sat down in front of her mirror. Anna shut her door for her. Mary pinched the bridge of her nose.

“M’lady?” Anna asked. She folded Mary’s spreadsheet and set it on the bench. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened , per se.” Mary thought back to the smell Tom carried. Or maybe it was the way his lips formed words differently. Or it could have been his eyes; either way, it was driving her insane. “I may have more than a dream’s experience, Anna,” she said carefully.

“Oh, m’lady?” Anna teased. “You know, Tom Branson would have been a fine choice in a different world.” She set the spreadsheet down and grabbed Mary’s brush.

Mary fluffed her hair out. “In a different world, we wouldn’t be given the opportunity to grow so close.” She closed her eyes as Anna pulled the brush through her locks. “He was rather affectionate as we worked. I can only assume that something is going on or I was imagining things.”

“How affectionate? Perhaps I can help, m’lady,” Anna offered, starting to tease her hair in place.

“Well, he sat close to me, and talked about if he married again,” she said passively. “He kissed my hair —”

“A kiss? Oh, my lady!” Anna laughed excitedly. “He kissed you! Oh, I knew that look meant something!” Anna grabbed the hair oil next to Mary’s wrist, but all Mary could think of was What look?

“Look? Whatever are you talking about?” Mary’s heart had moved to beat in her throat. “The way I looked at him? Or did he look at me in a different way?”

Anna hid her smile. “Nothing, m’lady, just this morning. How you two locked eyes, that’s all I meant.”

With a small smirk to her long-time friend, Mary warned, “I hope you aren’t playing me a fool.”

Anna laughed at that. “I would never m’lady. Now, back to getting ready for dinner. Would you like to wear the pink or the black dress…?”

Mary had decided, in the end, for the black dress. Its sequins at the belt glittered and drizzled down to the skirt, while the top half had soft lace patterns sewn in like silken velvet. She convinced Anna to let her hair hang loose, as well, with pins holding her hair out of her face like delicate fingers of metal.

Mary relished the feeling of being beautiful. She loved how she could express herself with looks alone and still seem cold without having to let her walls down. If there was one thing she hated, it was being vulnerable, being on the brink of shattering or letting walls down. It was frightening to her.

Unless, of course, it was the way that Tom made her feel vulnerable.

As she made her way to her seat, she noticed how Rose was bouncing with excitement at the dinner table, with Tom whispering to her in a prankish way. Ohh . Mary knew Rose was the type to scheme, but she felt a prick in her heart at the idea that Tom was included and she wasn’t.

“You don’t suspect she’d really do that, do you?” Rose whispered, eyes wide with whatever this newfound knowledge was. Mary wondered whom it was about.

Tom gave a musical chuckle. “I do. I know her well, more than I knew my wife.” That stung. What woman could he know better than darling Sybil, other than perhaps his daughter or his mother?

“That complicates things, doesn’t it?” Rose laughed.

“Complicates what?” Mary asked, sitting down next to Tom. He wore a white tie and a sharp suit. Mary couldn’t remember who was coming for dinner for the life of her, and that was probably a good thing. It meant that she wouldn’t have time to stew over what she hated about that particular guest. In the meantime, she could gaze into Tom’s blue eyes.

“Just matters of the party Rose wants to throw. She’s not sure who to invite,” Tom answered. Underneath the table, fingers wrapped around hers. She pretended not to feel her skin crawl. He smiled, gave her hand a small squeeze, then let go. “Have you heard from Tony Gillingham?”

“Not really,” she said. She tried to sound even. “I’ve been avoiding him. He wants me to marry him and I’m not sure what my answer will be.” She gave Tom a small smile.

“Hopefully he’ll be a lucky man.” His expression was hard to read. Mary couldn’t tell if he was surprised or disappointed. He just feigned a tiny smile and turned his head away.

Tom wasn’t expecting the feelings that came along with Mary getting married. He wasn’t expecting the squeeze to his chest or the stone to drop into his belly. Above all things, he didn’t expect his lungs to forget how to breathe in a sort of anger that he never associated Mary with until that moment.

A warm coal sat in place of his heart. Tom could have ignored it, but it lay with a searing pain. Impossible to ignore.

“I would think that I would be the lucky woman,” Mary said. “He’s different; but not quite the different I would have hoped for.” Doubt littered her confident words. Tom could breathe a little easier, now.

“What kind of different are you looking for, exactly?” Tom slowly whispered to her.

Mary smiled wryly. “Different in a way… someone who I can love through the tired days and the hot and messy ones.”

Tom smiled. He didn’t want to help Mary be with Gillingham. “Maybe Tony will grow to be that for you.”

“Perhaps.”

Dinner had gone on smoothly. Everyone was getting along, laughter rang through the meal, and it was a jolly good time. Robert hadn’t seen such a natural evening since before Matthew died.

How odd , he thought as he left for bed that night. Why would Matthew have played any role? He felt silly, like a schoolboy who should have known the answer to a simple equation. Yet, reason why dinner was so different, why it seemed like the evenings when Matthew was still walking the Earth, eluded him.

Why, those days were when Mary was happiest—

Hold the bloody phone.

The earl turned to his wife. “Cora, darling,” Robert said carefully, sorting his own thoughts out as he spoke, “was Mary acting rather strangely, tonight?”

“Now that you mention it, yes,” Cora replied, her jaw dropping. “She was laughing a lot with Tom—” Cora cut herself off, staring at her husband.

“You don’t think Tom has anything to do with this, do you?”

“I certainly do!” Cora said with a wicked grin. “I know he was married to Sybil, but they’ve definitely grown together into different people. Robert, they acted like husband and wife tonight!”

Robert smirked at his scheming wife. “You’re plotting.”

“You’re plotting, too, don’t chide me,” Cora said. She looked like a cat who was catching more mice than usual. “Will you help?”

“Of course, I’ll bloody help!”

#Gaitwae writes #Brary #Downton Abbey #Tom branson #Mary Crawley #Rare pairs

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chiclet-go-boom · 3 years

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I just gotta... i just gotta vent. like, what the fuck, this day.

for context, i share my job with a co-worker. she works the first part of the week, i work the last part. technically we keep each other updated as we’re trading off jobs-in-progress but when it gets busy, it’s every man for themselves.

i get it. i’m used to it. i’ve gotten pretty fucking decent at thinking through shit that doesn’t immediately make sense while a customer i haven’t deal with before is either at the counter or on the phone while i stare down the barrel of an email chain that does not compute on initial scan because my co-worker likes to play super coy with writing down mission critical information where anybody else (like me) can read it.

but this.

this.

my co-worker is, to put it mildly, not tech-savvy. she sometimes makes tables in Word in order to mimic a spreadsheet because that’s what she knows how to do. it drives me fucking nuts but whatever.

Monday we get an excel spreadsheet from a client who wants to put in an order. She prints the sheet off. I come in Thursday morning and she’s got a note on for me to please tabulate the numbers (because the client hasn’t) and put the order in.

okay. She worked three days and couldn’t get to this? so I figure it out, get the totals, add allllll the missing info onto the order sheet because my mama didn’t raise no fool then shove the numbers out to the vendors. move on with rest of the insanity.

client happens to come in Friday to take a look at some samples, thinking of switching stuff around for brands and styles. comes out during this conversation we’re having that the Excel order sheet she sent in Monday? wasn’t the one-pager that the co-worker printed and left for me. oh, no. not at all.

THERE ARE TWELVE TABS IN THIS SPREADSHEET. IT IS NOW FRIDAY. WE HAVE LOST A WHOLE WEEK BECAUSE MY CO-WORKER HAS NO CLUE HOW TO READ OR HOW SPREADSHEETS FUNCTION APPARENTLY.

so yeah. she printed off the first sheet and didn’t realize there was more to it than that, even though when i went and read the client’s email from Monday it was pretty obvious it was a large order since she’s giving us instruction about how she wants everything laid out.

my poor heart. i was already stupid busy and that was a cliff drop in near panic, let me tell you. i had to shove everything else i was trying to coordinate aside to splat on that like a pancake because this client’s orders ARE complicated and aren’t well put together to make it any easier (we’ve spoken, their spreadsheets are as “good” as they’re going to get) and whee fucking me, having to go through a dozen spreadsheet tabs and count everything by hand into a master work sheet, while i clutch the art department’s hand to coordinate the graphic end of thing because they couldn’t do anything until they get the master work sheet THAT I’M ONLY JUST MAKING NOW A WEEK AFTER SUBMISSION.

and of course there’s a really tight deadline attached. joy. o frabious joy.

we all makes mistakes but holy fucking shit. how did she not notice?

#personal #as hell

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someone-always-cares · 4 years

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[image description: a q&a for the webcomic someone always cares. full desc under the cut because its long and wordy sorry]

post chapter 3 Q&A

first - previous - next

thanks for yalls questions!! it was fun to answer! if anyone still has questions feel free to ask whenever i am always 100% down to ramble. even if i did go slightly off topic in some answers

additional: went off topic with the hair question a bit. their bright hair is all part of the transformations. regular hair dye does exist though. best way to tell is that if the eyebrow matches the hair its probably not dyed. also, quartz’s hair is naturally ginger.

also for more on ages, check out the character bios here

also was gonna keep this in the tags but thought i might as well actually try to answer it: the question i found it hardest to answer was someone the song one. my taste in music is. a mess really. ive been listening to like the same 5 songs on repeat all day. more under the cut because i was rambling again and now its uhhh half 1am

if it helps at the time of answering that specific question i had home by cavetown on repeat, and that song reminds me of both rami and lewis. but that may be because i project onto those two a lot, and as a aro trans dude. who sucks with people skills, yeah of course i love that song.

specifically the vibes of like not knowing how to communicate (rami is fine with his friends but other people are different), the lines “ Turn off your porcelain face, I can't really think right now and this place, Has too many colors, enough to drive all of us insane” idk what the porcelain face line is supposed to mean but im picturing it as like. a mask. that you need to take off and stop hiding and rami does tend to hide when hes feeling upset, and the next two lines kinda could tie into that, like the feeling of when youre overwhelemed and just want the world to stop so you just hide somewhere. also the colours could go with chapter 3 with the chromatic abberation.

also the bit with “ my eyes went dark, I don't know where, my pupils are, But I'll figure out a way to get us out of here” just kinda sums up ramis whole hero thing with his powers and all. anyway this has turned into less what songs rami would like and why this particular song reminds me of him and lewis (lewis specifically has the hair cutting/chest hiding, [big transmasc mood], and also messy haired trainwreck who doesnt know who he is yet. also the ghosts bit)

i did end up picking upbeat songs because ramis a dude who like to try and be upbeat even if things arent. even if hes not really feeling it he will pretend to.

[full description: Anonymous said to someone-always-cares: “hi ily!!! do characters like quartz who have colored hair have that naturally or did they dye it?”

“its both natural and not! while most supers can do a magical girl ish transformation, including a change in hair colour, there are some exceptions.”

theres two small full body drawings of rami, one in civilian clothes, one fully transformed.

“if a superhero were to have a biological child, the child will inherit the powers of the parent(s). however, the child will not inherit the full transfromation. they do inherit any physical transformations, but not the outfit.”

theres a drawing of a woman in blue, quartz’s mother, fully transformed, holding her mask in her hand, smiling down at a much younger quartz as a child. hes smiling back up at her with the same blue eyes, pointy ears, and blue hair, but hes still in normal clothes.

“in the case of quartz, both of hisparents had superpowers, and he inherited those powers and the physical transformations.he can also pick and mix whatphysical traits to change.“

next is a headshot of adult quartz, his face split down the middle with one side having hair and eye like his mother, the other like his father. theres a list of traits from each parents, blue hair and eyes and pointy ears from his mum, and purple hair and eyes and pointy teeth from their dad.

“Anonymous said to someone-always-cares: Are all the characters the same age? If not, how old are they? Are they irl friends or just superhero friends?”

theres some headshots of rami and his team lined up with ages labelled: cam is 15, rami himself is 17, lin, mateo, and dante, are all 18, and cap is 20.

“rami and xandra were somewhat friends before she got superpowers, so when, after the incident with her old team, she found rami had developed powers, xandra stuck close to him. their other teamates started off as superhero friends but soon turned into irl friends too”

theres a headshot of lewis and jade. theyre both 17

“when lewis first decided to start being a vigilante,jade quickly found him and decided to help train himand offered to be a mentor of sorts, as they both have similar powers. that quickly derailed.”

“ cinder5555 said to someone-always-cares: How long does it usually take to make a comic page? I'm curious because they're so freaking good that they must take FOREVER”

theres a drawing of myself, a fluffy hair tired bastard in a hoodie, smiling

“Thanks! Ive been doing this shit since like 2017 and i still have no idea how long it takes me. i can get a page done in a day if i have nothing else to do or if its a simple page, but if i have work then maybe 2-3 days? i spend like, most of my free time doing this.“

another drawing of me, now looking frustrated muttering “how the FUCK does time work”

“but i can never do it all on one sitting.i will inevitably get distracted and zone out daydreaming mid drawing so its very hard to get an accurate read on how long it takes. so however long a piece of string is i guess“

the only qustion not from tumblr is a discord message from RuneStone Cabin:

“Q: Can you talk about the incidence of superpowers in this world? Like many people are supers, which powers are more or less common, how long they've been a thing for, stuff like that. Also does Omen know I'd die for them “

theres a drawing of omen pointing at a date circled on a calender marked “decembuary”, theyre saying “i know. i already wrote your death in my calender.”

then a giant wall of text reading: “Supers have only existed for a relativly short time, since the early 1940s. momento mori was the second person to have ever gained powers.

Only a small number of the population are supers! the chances are higher in more populated cities, but unusally london has oneof the higher percentages of supers. while nobody in universe has any idea of the origins of superpowers, it does seem that powers are more likely to occur in people who would actually use their powers.

as for what powers are most common, after making a badly catagorized spreadsheet of every superpowered character ive made for this world (70% of which will probably never even be seen), turns out that elemental powers are the most common. although not all elemental powers manifest as the straight up 'controling this element' as seen in characters like lin or tsunami. for example, iris's powers would fall under shadow elemntal powers, but theyre a lot more weird that just controlling shadows.there are some abilities that have never been seen before,such as ressurection or full on time travel (aka anything that could bring a character back to life), but powers are certainly allowed to toe the line eg healing, powers involving undeath, immortality, pausing or manipulating time.

aside from that, anything goes. you could get plain old superstrength, but you could also get the ability to create dogs with your mind. other not quite rules, more guidelines are that supers are immune to their own powers hurting them (unless they were pushing themselves too hard), although the way the imminuties occur may be inconvinient to the super.

while some powers may be 'more powerful' than others, powers dont really get to be way underpowered or overpowered in comparision to others. sure being able to talk to animals may feel a bit useless compared to someone who can lift 4 tanks at once, but nobodys going to end up with a power like 'can turn into a goose but only once' or 'can grow toenails twice as fast' or 'if i sneeze i can change my hair colour'. at the same time, youre not going to get someone with the power to snap their fingers and level a city, or instantly blow up the moon or whatever.

“Anonymous said to someone-always-cares: I love rami PLEASE tell me his favorite song(s) and why. I will die for you”

a drawing of rami saying out loud “i dont really have any specific favourite song, really? i just listen to whatever sounds catchy and then listen to that on repeat for hours until i hate it. i guess i do like upbeat songs? ones that make you feel happy even if the lyrics are sad”

“ un1c0rnhh said to someone-always-cares: tell me,,, please,, cam,,, are they a cat person or a dog person?? ily"

theres a drawing of cam a metre away from a cat lying down. she has her arm out and is making ‘psspsspss’ noises at it. end id]

FUCK i am so glad i didnt hand write all of that, it would have been a major pain in the ass to write it all and then have to transcribe all that next. but nope i could directly copy paste the asks and word answers. cheers if anyone made it this far down. if anyone wonders why this is uploaded late, you know now.

#sac #someone always cares #sorry to my friends i rambled to about the previosly mentioned attempt at catagorizing powers #i made a fucking spreadsheet and everything #it was awful #also it probably obvious but i still have yet to download the font i use to this computer #did i ever mention what i named the font when i made it #because its called 'dicks out for the void' or something #it was funny back in mid/late 2017 ok

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noconcernofyours · 4 years

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Pinning Down My Kind of Movie

Warning: Wanky, self-indulgent ramblings about Hollywood auteurs to follow

A couple of days ago, I sat down with my housemate to watch Miami Vice (2006) directed by Michael Mann (Heat, Collateral) and starring Colin Farrell and Jamie Foxx. Since we moved into our place, my housemate has gradually been exposed to my taste in movies, and the other day, sat in front of a strung-out Colin Farrell ordering mojitos to ‘Numb/Encore’ during an undercover sting, he finally confronted me with a crisis-inducing statement: “You know, I can’t figure out what your kind of movie is.”

If I am to be totally honest, it doesn’t take much to send me into an existential tailspin, but this observation got me thinking enough to want to sit down and write about it, so here we are. My name’s Daniel and I love movies! When I was a teenager, I was certain I wanted to be a film critic, so I started writing in earnest. The problem was I wasn’t that well rounded as a viewer. I confined myself to the world of comic book movies and Disney animation. I turned my nose up at pretty much everything else before realising that I didn’t actually know much or have much to offer about film. Instead, I turned to music criticism because that’s where my knowledge base is.

That being said, I still loved movies, and as the years have gone on, I have been rapidly expanding my film knowledge and broadened my horizons extensively. I got called a “film buff” for the first time recently, which really shocked me. I still don’t feel well-watched enough, or knowledgeable enough to fit a moniker like that. Maybe it’s imposter syndrome, but I really feel like I have a way to go yet.

My Letterboxd bio includes the phrase “admirer of film nerds”, and I think that admiration informs the entire way I look at the world of film. I read a lot of reviews and listen to a lot of podcasts by smart, unpretentious film obsessives like David Sims, Griffin Newman, Katey Rich, Karen Han and Bilge Ebiri, but that same admiration also informs the kind of films I enjoy the most. In confronting the statement from my housemate, I realised that while there are some genres I gravitate to more than others, my taste in movies is largely defined by the extent to which I can pick up on a single authorial voice driving the film. A director, writer, actor, composer or cinematographer who has a real, obsessive love for their craft whose influence and personality can be felt in every layer of a film’s construction. Franchises are a different beast, but it’s usually the entries in a franchise that feel like passion projects for individual filmmakers that I love the most, which is why Iron Man 3 is by far my favourite Marvel movie.

Over the last few months I’ve started building a fairly extensive Blu-Ray collection. I love physical media because I like to have a tangible representation of the art I love, but it also allows me to physically organise my thoughts about film rather than moving things around on a spreadsheet or in my head. It has also had an effect on how I watch films. Spending money on a film makes me feel more obligated to watch it through to the end in one sitting, to not be on my phone at the same time and to pay closer attention. It’s also made my approach to picking the films I watch more considered. I’ve been hunting down the films I haven’t seen by directors I love, fuelled by newfound completionism, and I’ve been subconsciously prioritising this kind of auteur-driven mindset in a way that has revealed, over time, who my favourite filmmakers are.

So, with that in mind, let’s transform this meandering, self-indulgent think piece into a meandering, self-indulgent listicle. Here are the filmmakers that have changed the way I watch movies:

Christopher Nolan

I know this is a bit of a film bro cliché, but I promise I’m not one of those film school douchebags who’s convinced they’re going to be the next great big budget auteur. Like a lot of other people my age, I discovered Christopher Nolan through the batman movies. I was taken to see The Dark Knight by my parents when I was 10 years old, not having seen Batman Begins, and it blew my mind. For years after that, I was one of those arseholes who had a terrible Joker impression that I whipped out at parties, until I became aware of the cliché and never did it again.

In the years since I’ve watched all of his other movies and gained a new love of Interstellar and The Prestige – movies that taught me a lot about the authorial voice and interweaving a central theme into every element of a film. I also learned that just because I find it annoying when the same tropes turn up in every Quentin Tarantino movie, recurring tropes throughout a filmmaker’s catalogue aren’t universally a bad thing.

The Coen Brothers

Representation is important. The tough thing about watching films from an auteur-driven perspective is that so many of the most important filmmakers in Hollywood are approaching their films from a white, Christian, male perspective. Scorsese is a particularly difficult director for me to appreciate because so many of his films are overtly informed by his Christianity. My Jewish identity is the most significant aspect of my identity, so naturally I’m always looking for films made from a Jewish perspective, overt or otherwise.

Whilst the Coen brothers don’t always make movies about explicitly Jewish characters or subject matters, their Jewishness always comes out in their writing, particularly in the totally undidactic way they approach the subject of faith in almost every film they’ve made. Their approach to God, fate, spirituality and religion is never one of moralising certainty, but rather a questioning one, which is a fundamental aspect of Jewish existence. I feel represented on multiple levels in the films of the Coen brothers, particularly in Inside Llewyn Davis which is my favourite film of the last decade, in ways that other directors could never manage. For the same reasons I will forever be excited about the potential of the Safdie brothers.

Stephen Spielberg

Whilst the Jewishness of Stephen Spielberg is a major attraction for me (Catch Me If You Can, his moody Christmas movie, comes across as weirdly Jewish to me), the thing that has solidified the guy as one of my favourite filmmakers is his approach to telling true stories. Unlike the Coen brothers, it’s Spielberg’s self-assuredness and didacticism that fuels my love of his work. His spate of recent, politically switched-on, historical dramas (Lincoln, Bridge of Spies and The Post) are all incredible achievements in effectively giving quiet dramas about people talking in rooms the tension and stakes of great action movies.

It’s the obvious thing to say at this point that Spielberg is one of the few genuine masters of the cinematic language, but while most will point to his massive, populist movies of the 80s and 90s as the definitive examples of that, I would point to his spottier late career with its moralising and earnestness as where his most exhilarating work lies.

Michael Mann

I like that Michael Mann is uncompromising. He makes films which, based on premise and star power, should be commercial knockouts, but they almost never are. He has an incredibly clear sense of self, and like Nolan has a lot of frequently recurring tropes in his films. Michael Mann makes films about Men Making Tough Choices™. He builds detailed, intensely researched worlds and he loves crime!

There’s something special when a filmmaker can tread the same ground over and over again and never convey the same central message twice. Nearly all of Mann’s movies are gritty, neo-noir thrillers with an obsessive attention to detail, but all of them deal with a totally distinct existential question which runs through every element of the film, from meta casting to set design, to music, to Mann’s pioneering use of digital photography. I’m just obsessed!

Stephen Soderbergh

Soderbergh is a hill that I’m going to be climbing for quite some time, I think. This is a guy who is relentlessly prolific, taking on a ridiculous number of roles on set himself, and working so fast that he often churns out multiple films in a year. With limited funds and a determination to watch movies legally, my progress through Soderbergh’s filmography has been slow, but I’ve loved every one I’ve watched so far.

As much as I love the guy’s mastery of the heist movie, and the way he slips those story telling devices into a lot of his non-heist stories, I think what really gets me about Soderbergh is the way his filmmaking style always seems to feel tooled towards portraying his characters with as much empathy as possible. Often his films are about people working or learning to empower themselves and coming to terms with their own identities. Anyway, go watch Out of Sight! It’s a damn masterpiece!

Kathryn Bigelow

Kathryn Bigelow’s career is full of insane ups and downs, but as far as I’m concerned, despite the difficulties she’s had getting her movies made and seen, she has three unqualified masterworks: Point Break, Strange Days and The Hurt Locker. On this list of directors, Bigelow has perhaps the most stylistically varied body of work, but her best work, much like that of other directors that I find myself drawn to, is largely concerned with obsession. Her characters are deeply flawed, but unwaveringly driven. What I love is that despite her drastic genre change from pulpy action thriller to hyper-realistic docudrama, she’s managed to hold on to that fascination with obsession, and an acute, outsider’s understanding of masculinity and its fragility.

Kathryn Bigelow has had to adapt to keep working, but because of that, she’s managed to develop a voice and a personality that is versatile enough to withstand her career shifts, but strong enough that it hasn’t been chipped away at by the difficulties she’s faced as a woman in Hollywood.

So, what was the point of all this?

Honestly, there wasn’t one. This was a piece of self-indulgence that allowed me to navigate an idea over which I was obsessing for a little while. That being said, I think if I had read something along these lines a few years ago, I would have delved into the world of director-focused movie watching far sooner. It’s hard to quickly and easily define the role of a director in contemporary film, particularly due to the ever growing influence of studios, but in the world in which the above filmmakers operate, the director has final say over all the creative decisions involved in putting together a movie. For me, the most exciting films are the ones that clearly and effectively communicate a single creative voice. Sue me, I love auteurs.

#miami vice #auteurs #christopher nolan #the prestige #the coen brothers #inside llewyn davis #stephen spielberg #the post #michael mann #collateral #steven soderbergh #out of sight #kathryn bigelow #the hurt locker #filmmakers #Jewish film #wanky bullshit

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nickhembery · 4 years

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trigger warning: shit gets dark

I've been thinking about writing this for a while. It's going to be a long one, because it's going to tell a story of a long period in my life. It's going to get into a lot of banality of office work, and its going to go to some dark places, because it's also the story of depression. My depression. My sink into some pretty dark thoughts and the path out of them.

The story starts in 2007. I was a year out of university with a degree barely worth the paper it's printed on, so was struggling to find a job. A task made a lot harder because I still didn't have any idea what I wanted to do for a career. So I was going from short temp job to short temp job, feeling kind of down. When one day I get a text from an agency that had given me a few jobs. "Want to be working Monday?" I think it said. I replied in the affirmative. I was given an address and told to be there at 8.30am on Monday. I said I would be there.

The company I had just agreed to work at was at the time a freshly independent arm of Zurich bank. It operated in a very niche area of financial services. When you want to get a mortgage, insurance, or some other financial thing, you can go to a bank. Or you could pay someone else to go to the banks and find the best deal for you. These people are called financial advisers, they go and talk to random people and convince them to act as intermediaries to the bank, and doing this they earn commission. This commission can vary, unless they are part of a large group, not quite a union, of similar advisers that can collectively bargain better commission rates for the advisers. That's what this company was, an intermediary for an intermediary, a company that only dealt with other companies and to the public at large is invisible.

My job at the company was quite simple. When the financial advisers sell things, they earn commission, that commission comes from the bank, goes through the company, and on to the adviser, except when the computer system failed to process it. My task was to look at these system failures, figure out why they failed, get them working again and the money passed on to the adviser. It sounds quite slick when you say it like that, except it was monotonous, easy and boring. There were only actually about six reasons that a payment failed to process automatically, and quite quickly you got good at spotting what the cause was with just a glance at the data. From there, it was simply a case of following the steps and pushing buttons in the right order to get things moving again. After that, you moved onto the next payment in your list of payments to deal with. Because there was always more.

That, in a nutshell, was my job. The digital equivalent of the old-timey footage of the factory worker doing the same thing over and over. I was there to correct a failure in an automatic process, and at any time could be made redundant when they figure out how to stop it happening. But this is where things take a dark turn. I was never made redundant. In all the time I was at the company, no one ever changed the system in an effort to effect the automatic processing. It was easier for the company to employ me, and a lot of other people, to push the buttons in the correct order, than it was to get someone to actually fix the system. That's a heavy thing to carry with you. You're not worth enough to be a saving if you're made redundant. So you sit there, working your tools on the conveyor line.

Let's talk about the tools for a minute. Those didn't change much in my tenure either. The thing the advisers used to send us information about the things they sold changed twice. It started they were using paper. Then a digital system was built over a few years by many, many contractors. But it basically didn't work, so was scrapped and replaced in about two years after launch. There was one particular time when £10,000 had been spent on a button that would stop some errors happening. It didn't work, so we saw no difference. The thing that all our records of payments were stored on was excel spreadsheets. Thousands upon thousands of records per sheet, switched out monthly. We were using it like a database table. Information was constantly being entered and changed, by multiple people at once. So it broke a lot. You'd try to save changes and you'd get an error message. The source file was corrupted, or deleted. When that happened there was a twenty-minute procedure to fix things and get back on track. It happened at least once a month. IT apparently spent a long time trying to solve it. One time they announced they had solved the problem, and while they had, they also caused an even worse problem, so I demanded we be rolled back immediately. We were rolled back after the second instance. The last tool we had was the main database and payments system. Every record on the spreadsheet already existed on the payments system, but there was no way to retrieve records in the filtered form we needed on the fly. So we went between the spreadsheet and the payments system, sorting things out and amending data. The payments system in a word, sucked. It crashed four times a day and you had to reset it on your computer. Once a month it went down for the whole company for about an hour. Imagine you're typing an email, you hit send and you get an error message. You restart your email client and it doesn't want to open. You ask the person next to you to check their email, theirs is broke too. You ask around, no email for anyone. Then someone has to call IT and report that email is down. Then you wait, and no one can do anything without email. Every month, the tools we relied one would break down and we had to wait for them to be fixed. And neither of those was changed.

One more thing to talk about in the structure of the job. Crunch time. You ever have a big deadline, where a lot of work needs to be done in a short space of time so everyone has to put in extra hours? And it's really important so everyone is expected to come in and help out, because you have to hit that target? How often does that happen for you? In this job, there was one every single month. I mentioned the spreadsheets were swapped out monthly. That's because our cycle of work was on a monthly pay run cycle. Everything that came in during the month was processed in the same month. Well, mostly. 99% was the average. And you'd think okay, so you see what you get at the start, figure out how many then work to the speed so you're done at the end, right? Wrong. Stuff keeps coming in throughout the month, and all of it has to be done. This includes the mammoth file that comes in three to five days before the deadline, and is equivalent in size to half of all of what you've done in the month to that point. Three days to process thousands more payments. And this was routine. Every month, the file lands and everyone gets to work on it. The spreadsheet and system crashes frequently happened during these periods. One time the bosses did trial offsetting the mammoth file to the following month so there wouldn't be crunch for us. But the bosses upstairs didn't like it, so it was put back. A crunch period. Every single month. It's worth pointing out that this was my first proper job, so I didn't actually know this was abnormal. So I just got on with it.

So this is all pretty sad. The work is easy to the point of mind-numbing boredom. The tools break frequently. Nothing is being done to make things better. Periods of high stress all the time. What do you do? You try to leave. Except. I was hired as a temp in July 2007. Made permanent in late 2008. Then the financial crises happened. No one was getting out. Every job advertised was crap or worse. It was a while before it was worth job hunting seriously again. And that didn't go well. At one point I talked to a career's adviser because as I put it "the phone doesn't ring", no one was interested in me. I was overqualified for the crap and underqualified for everything else. Trapped. Doing the same crap, over and over, in a monthly cycle, over and over. I had already identified and openly talked about how I disliked the job. I described myself as a professional button pusher. Or, bored office worker by day, insane video gamer by night. Or, everything positive in my life is outside of work.

The positive things. They were there. I had met a group of friends that are still with me today. My family were and still are incredibly supportive of me. I travelled, going to various events and seeing strange sights. And I found the thing I wanted to really do for a career. In 2011 I was a founding member of a writing group in which we all read and critiqued each other's work. And while I could be cutting in my comments, I was honest and very good at it. And I enjoyed it. Pursuing that, I looked into how to do it for a job. It's very tough when you're not ten years younger than I was, doing or done an English degree at a better university than I went to, or just had decent connections in the industry (that I didn't have). So, freelance work. What a mess that is. Various websites offer connecting freelancers to customers, but those are fiercely competitive, to the point that it's a race to the bottom, working virtually for free, if you find work at all. The freelance market is a full-time job to find part-time work. Not fun. Something I started doing was seeking out courses on proofreading in order to boost my profile. And this is when things get very, very dark.

In 2014 I received the results of my third (I think, it might have been second) attempt at one of these courses, and I didn't make the cut. Feeling sad and not having anything else to do that day, I went out to the gym. Driving along a dual carriageway, I noticed that there wasn't a barrier in the grass verge between the opposing lanes. I thought about veering across and causing a head-on collision. What stopped me was the thought "no, that's really rude to the other driver". The thing about low-burning anxiety is that you're constantly afraid of strangers. What if they attack me? What if he tries to mug me? What if that bus jumps the curb and hits me? All of these things are imagined external threats. This thought of veering my car was the first time it would be me causing the damage, so it flagged immediately as something that shouldn't be there. In a bit of a daze I continued to the gym, worked out for a bit then went home. When I arrived I switched my computer on and googled "depression test". I found seven online tests on various sites, and did all of them. The results across the board, were that I was seriously depressed. I sat back, and thought about this for a moment. Then I thought that the suicidal thought incident probably triggers a thing in them for maximum safety. Anyone that thinks of killing themselves is automatically told to seek help. So I did all the tests again, and this time I left out the suicidal thought bit and lied a little for good measure, saying I wasn't as bad as I really felt. The results were the same. Heavy depression. Get help.

I quickly arranged an appointment with a doctor, got a prescription for anti-depressants and various reading material. At the time I was struggling to read for long periods, my attention wasn't holding, so I got a couple of audiobooks on depression and low self-esteem. I figured there was a lot of overlap. I also met with a therapist, and attended a seminar series to talk about my issues. The cause of this sadness was immediately obvious. The job. But, I couldn't quit. When I had met with the career's adviser a few years previous, the same one that I had told "the phone doesn't ring", I had asked about quitting so that I could become 'immediately available' as some ads requested. He advised me against it, stating that those currently in work were 40% more likely to find new work. The logic is there, you're proving that someone wants to hire you, so the new people should too. Though I sometimes wonder on the accuracy of the figure. But what to do when the job gives you depression and you can't quit? I decided to give myself six months to learn about my condition and let the medication kick in, then start job searching with a seriousness hitherto unseen. I have no idea if I just used 'hitherto' correctly. Anyway, learning.

How does depression work, and how do you cope with it? In reading (listening) and talking, I learned about various coping mechanisms, and that somehow I'd done everything right. It was part of how the job was so identifiable as the cause. I didn't do anything other than the job that didn't give me happiness, reward or satisfaction. Like going to the gym. That started because I was feeling pains in my arms and shoulders from lack of exercise, so I joined up to make that go away. Exercising is highly recommended to depressives because of all the endorphins. Another was staying up late. Lying awake in bed is classic bad thoughts time, so I avoided it as much as possible. I would stay up on the computer until the early hours, then I would climb into bed and play a different game, keeping going with that until I was almost passed out from exhaustion. Only then would I switch everything off and go to sleep. It wasn't healthy, but it kept the bad thoughts at bay. Living with other people also helped greatly. They could keep an eye on you, make meals so that you actually ate, and be someone to pretend to be normal for. One time I was alone in the house for a while, and it took me three hours to get out of bed, wash and dress. Wouldn't have got away with that if anyone else had been home and needed to use the toilet. But the most important mechanism by far, was the first one.

Most people when they work listen to music. A radio is the classic. These days it’s youtube or spotify. But I didn't listen to music, because it wasn't enough of a distraction. I could do my job, listen to music and daydream at the same time. And they weren't good daydreams. So I listened to podcasts and audiobooks. Thousands upon thousands of hours, I heard quiz shows, tech news, movie reviews, historic stories, short stories, random rants and books and books and books. I didn't talk to my colleagues much. I would arrive, switch on my PC, plug in my headphones, and be silent for most of the day. I didn't like saying good morning to people, I can't recall why, and I thought it would be horrible if all I said to people was goodbye, so I didn't engage them unless absolutely necessary. Sometime people ask how I could work and listen to spoken word at the same time. I always equated it to driving and listening to the radio. I was looking at shapes (numbers) and hearing words. I kept the two separate in my head and kept going. If I had to write an email I would pause the audio. Needless to say, with all the silence, I wasn't popular. I didn't care. I really didn't want to be there, so I did my best to pretend I wasn't.

Slight tangent, how often does the phone ring at your work? Once a day? Once a week? Several times a day? Well, when I started at the job the phone would ring a lot. Because as well as being the correction mechanism for the automatic system, we were also the second line support for the contact centre. A payment would go wrong, an adviser would call up, the person they reach wouldn't know anything about it, so they would call us. Again and again. And these were important calls, our customers the advisers couldn't just be ignored, no. So there always had to be someone to answer the phone, which meant everyone couldn't be on lunch at the same time, which in turn meant that everyone had a set period when they went to lunch. From twelve till one or one till two. The team was split down the middle. You left on the dot and you were back on the dot. Annoying, but also strangely fortuitous. Because it gave me a set period every day of non work. Where I could leave and partake of another activity. Some people went for walks, or read a book. Me, I wrote. Many thousands of words. Then I edited. Then other stuff, I'll get back to that later. The 'wrong' part about this rigidness was that unlike my job, things changed for the contact centre. What was once six people and no clue was grown to twenty who were well trained and knew their stuff. My phone stopped ringing. They didn't need us anymore, but the rigid lunch times stayed. I wonder why. Anyway, the writing I did in my lunch breaks was a great coping mechanism, gave me a massive sense of accomplishment. "What did you do at work today?" "I wrote 1000 words" In my lunch break.

That was all stuff I was doing by accident when I was diagnosed. After the six month to learn and let the meds kick in, I really got going. It was here that I started my annual goal setting, which has featured heavily in the blog before. "In the coming year I will X, Y and Z". I wrote many drafts of books. I learned to touch type. I learned how to animate. I tried several times to learn how to code. I tried and failed and tried some more. But the big thing was that I put on the list was to get a new job. And here is why it took so long to come off anti-depressants and declare myself well: job searching is hard. You write a CV, you search for jobs in your area, you put in applications for every one you think you could get, and you wait. Every day, searching, writing, applying. I also signed on with almost every job agency in the area. For the most part the experience was the same, you go in, fill out forms, sign up, lots of smiles and handshakes, you leave, you never hear from the agency again. Attempts to contact them are ignored or brushed off. There's a couple specific stories to tell here. One agency approached me and asked me to sign up, I happened to have a day when I could come in as I was also going to the dentist. I told them what time I would drop by and to let me know if that wasn't good. The day came, I drove over, got buzzed through the door, sat in the reception area, and waited. For an hour. I went back outside, got on the intercom again and was buzzed inside again. This time someone turned up and told me politely that she couldn't help me as she oversaw a different area, the person I was there to see was busy, and they also don't take walk ins, so please leave. I left. At half past four that afternoon I got an email from the contact saying sorry but they don't have time that day, is there another time I'm available. I did not reply. Another story. One time after applying I got a call, it was from the agency that listed the ad. They had me on file, I had signed on with them two years previous, but could I please come in and sign on again. I replied that none of my information had changed, and I had never actually left the agency's rolls, so why did I need to sign on again? She agreed and ended the call. I never heard from them again. To this day I am confused as to what people who work in job agencies actually do.

Back to my search. Every day I checked a few different websites and applied for whatever I had a shot at. When you do this everyday, you're effectively staying current in the market, seeing stuff the same day it's posted and you can skip the things you've seen before. The upside of this is that you're not wasting time on old listings that already have lots of applications. The downside is you see how few jobs are being posted day to day. But still, you apply, and you actually get results. People call you and invite you in to interview. Things get more frustrating than when dealing with agencies. You get a date, time and location. You make arrangements, put on your suit, show up. You smile, you shake hands, you answer their questions. They say thank you and goodbye. It's some time until you hear from them, or from a representative. The answer is always no. The reason for why it's no is rarely there. Occasionally you get told that one of the other candidates was better in some way, which is understandable. The rest of the time, nothing to tell you why. One time I got the call that I hadn't been selected, and when I asked why they said "client suitability". I asked what that meant, they replied that I didn't tick all the boxes that they wanted. I asked which boxes were lacking. We went round and round a little until I backed them into a corner, and they admitted that they didn't know why I wasn't chosen. I just about held back from asking why the fuck they bothered to call. Just.

After about two years of searching, applications, rare interviews, no feedback, I decided to do something about it. I got in touch with careers advisers again and they forwarded me to a local office where I could be given a mock interview. I wanted to know why I was being told no all the time, and I was determined to get an answer. The nice group sent me a list of questions ahead of time to make prepared answers for, which was good. On the day I suited up, went along and we sat down. The questions were all generic, as they couldn't do an interview for a specific job. It was all about my skills, what I could bring to the table, my goals. I answered everything as best I could. The mock interview ended and I asked what I'm doing wrong. I was told "that was great, I'd hire you on the spot". I think that's the worst bit of feedback I've ever received. No advice or ideas on why I wasn't being selected. The best they could offer me was to flat out ask how I did on the day to get immediate feedback.

We're into the final stretch now. The last year at the bad job. I didn't know it yet of course, I was still getting rejected all the time and had days when I felt I could lie down on the floor of the office and go to sleep in the middle of the day. It's worth noting this period because things got a little better, and they also got worse. What to go over first. How about promotions? The entire time I worked at the company, I was not promoted. I was the same grade the day I left as the day I was made permanent staff. The way to get promoted and the raise that goes with it was to make your boss like you. That's a bit difficult when you're unsociable, depressed, and your immediate superior is an idiot you refuse to talk to. Really, on paper she was my manager and was responsible for my annual assessments. In practice, her boss handled those for me and I refused to go back. So no promotion for me. It was promised by the CEO in that last year that the company would formalise the way to get promoted. You don't need to be liked if you're good at what you do, I think. That method was yet to be published when I left, likely because there was so many people that could rightly kick up a fuss at being passed over in the past. So there's that. Next, bonuses. The company, when it was formed, was an offshoot of Zurich as I said. Being a limited company, there were shares available that could only be held by certain people, including employees. These shares were allocated out to the staff as bonuses each year on the reason that one day the company would be sold and everyone would get a big payout. Well, in my last year with the company, it was announced that these shares actually had an expiry date. Ten years after allocation, if the company wasn't sold then the shares were void. All that promise of a payout evaporated. The company wasn't going to sell, the plan was to go public. But, bonuses for the staff. What to do instead? Well, they instituted a "long term incentive plan", where on four-year cycles staff would be given a moderate payout by the company. The first cycle would start the following year, and as a reward to all the staff that had been with company for a decade already, they would be getting *slightly* more than people who had joined yesterday. No one cheered. Related to bonuses, annual raises. Inflation is real, you need to keep pay going with it. But how much? That is what the annual appraisal determines. For a long time you were given a score out of 150. Most people got 85-95. Reasonable. It got you a modest bump in pay. In the last year, the system was changed to grading out out of five. Not five hundred, five. The lowest you could get was a one. Things got a bit more black and white. And, I was given a two. Not because I had actually done badly, but because I wasn't fulfilling my potential, apparently. No, I don't know what that could look like. So a few months later (after the boss' boss had changed) when everyone was getting letters about how much they were getting extra, I didn't get a letter. That two cost me all possibility of a raise. That grates. What grates more is that also in that last year a new guy was hired to the team who had no more responsibility than me, but was hired to a the upper grade (with the extra money). Similar to the money situation, was the wellbeing situation. Every year the company ran a survey to see how the staff felt things were going. Every year I filled it out and told them how miserable I was. In the last year, it turned out that everyone in my team had filled out the survey to similar effect. 40 people who all worked together weren't happy with their lot. So one day we were excused from normal duties (button pushing) and taken next door to a hotel to sit in a conference room and talk. We were shown graphics of our survey results and asked what could be done to improve those scores. What weren't we happy about? What could be changed? Being someone who had given this a lot of thought, I was able to answer. I spoke of all the problems, the unmoving, the boredom, the being ignored. And after that day, nothing changed. I sometimes wonder if anything ever did. By far, the strangest story of that last year is when I was asked to train a new hire. I didn't want to, but the bosses insisted. What's strange about this is that the person exposed a flaw in the hiring system. They were a simpleton. I taught them the basics of how spreadsheets worked, once answered a question with "you asked me that yesterday and wrote down what I told you", and I corrected their work again and again. It would be called amazing if it wasn't tragic. The job that was so easy and boring it gave me depression, was too hard for this person. Eventually, an excuse was found to fire them. And new hires after that described tests they took before being taken on.

The incredible thing about this entire journey, is that I don't remember the most important part. The day I applied for my current job. I can't remember seeing the ad, or filling out a form, or writing an email. That single, critical moment that would see my life change is missing from my memory. It was the job hunt of course. Searching every day, the phone ringing occasionally, always being told no, what's the point of remembering a single application? So I didn't. And it was a surprise when the phone rang to invite me for an interview. Naturally, I suited up and went along. I remember the clock on the wall over the interviewers' shoulders. I remember finding a fleck of white in the glass of water I had been given and looking up to see if the paint was peeling off the ceiling. I can't really remember the questions. I can remember when my car stopped on the drive home. The battery had died, I had to get a jump start to get home then order a replacement. Aside from the car trouble, it was just another interview. So it was a greater surprise when I got the call about the second interview. When I went along, one of the people I had met the first time remembered me and said hi. I was shocked, I also didn't remember them. I met the people that are now my bosses and spoke to them. I recall near the end I asked the 'how did I do?' question, and expected to get a non-answer. I was told that so long as I did well on the test then I had it in the bag. Okay then, more pressure please. They had told me about the test beforehand, and I brought along my own pens for it. One day, I hope to interview an assistant or replacement proofreader, and I'll ask to see what pens they brought. By far, the biggest shock was when I got that phone call, and was told I had the job. I can't recall exactly what I said, but I doubted that it was real, wanted to know if they were sure, something like that. After that call, I had to collect my thoughts and hold back from bursting into tears. I went back to my desk and immediately handed in my notice. It was within two days either way of eleven years after I had started at 8.30am on a Monday.

The month of my notice was an epilogue. Word spread that I was leaving. I smiled more than I ever had. People asked how I'd gotten the job, I told them about the journey. No one asked me if I was sure, I was the guy that said "I would love to be made redundant". But there was the meeting. In the larger team of 40, I was in a pod of eight. We all worked on the same stuff. This pod included the guy who was hired to be above me, and the idiot boss. A few days before the meeting, she asked me if there was anything I did that I thought other people would need to take care of when I wasn't there. I had a list. I wrote it down, and this list was put onto the agenda for the meeting. They were going to hear about all the busywork I did when there was nothing else to do that was actually really productive. On the day, we stood and left our desks to go to the meeting, the boss turns to me and asked me to take the minutes of the meeting. I told her that as I was doing the explaining and handover, I was going to be doing a lot of talking. She said, and I kid you not, "But last time you did the minutes it was really funny". I put my foot down and refused. In the meeting, no one quite believed what I was doing when they weren't watching me. The small things that kept everything moving. Keeping a spreadsheet updated. Pushing a button off and on each day. Checking for data entry errors. The majority of this work went to the grade-above guy. Finally, the day came. I left on a Friday. The following Monday I did my new commute to the new office, with new people and new work. I try not to look back, to get angry. But things keep bubbling up, so I thought I would write it all down here.

I have to recognise through all of this how lucky I was. Friends and family were there to support me. I had the resources to maintain my coping mechanisms. I caught the problem before it became an issue big enough to interfere with my work. I live in a time of the Internet that I could search for a phrase like "depression test" and find free resources. I live in a country with free healthcare, so saw doctors, pharmacists and therapists for no cost. That same country has subsidised medicine, so for the same cost (less then £9) as any other prescription, I got custom-made bottles with enough liquid to last a month. I was given a medication that gave me no ill effects on the first try. Said medication didn't become ineffective while I was taking it. I had the support and energy to keep working and job hunt at the same time. Four and a half years of living in a house of cards where anything could have brought it all crashing down. And then where would I be? Maybe back on the dual carriageway, looking at the gap in the barrier. But I was lucky, and now I'm here.

I stopped taking the antidepressants six months into the new job. Aside from a little lightheadedness of withdrawal, nothing happened. No exhaustion. No sadness. No lack of appetite or inability to sleep. It was over. I don't like saying 'cured', and I can't say 'free', because in a sense I'll never be free. This happened to me. All of it. And I can't just forget it, pretend it didn't happen. For starters it's eleven years of my life, I can't sweep that under the rug. I guess what I can do is learn from it, and keep it as a warning. Know the red flags in case it happens again.

If you've read all of the above, thanks I guess. It's definitely the longest blog I've written to date, and will likely be the longest I ever write. It took several days to pull it all together. While the events are true to the best of my recollection, it is possible that I'm misremembering them, putting things in the wrong time or attributing to the wrong person. If you or someone you know is experiencing depression, and don't have a good societal infrastructure to go to for help, I recommend talking to friends, family or colleagues. There's the cliche of the person that attempts suicide and survives, then the self harm being labelled 'a cry for help'. Don't let it get that far. Be open with your feelings, and encourage others to do likewise. In the end, it's okay to admit that you're not okay.

#mental health #working life #bad job

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unimpressedperson · 5 years

Text

akai-ito

(Found this cute picture in @btsreactionmemes. Thank you for posting it, sweetheart)

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: None, I guess.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x @agustdlovcult, Min Yoongi x Reader

Word Counting: 7.8k

Synopsis: Jade always obsessed over stability, wondering about how her best friend, Jung Hoseok, could live wildly and moving from place to place, relationship to relationship constantly. Once the only thing she most valued was taken away, drinking a little seemed fair. Her choice made a new connection, an akai-ito. Yoongi and Jade had one thing in common uniting them.

A/N: Hey Jeeeeeeeeed! What's up? After weeks of waiting I finished it! Hope you enjoy it. The character itself isn’t a reflection of your personality, ‘cuz you are one of the best creatures I have ever met. It has a total of 7.824 words, but comparing to what you deserve, it’s nothing. Hey Jadie, I love you and hope you are feeling alright :) Sorry for the bad grammar, hope you enjoy it x

- x - x - x - x -

Jade was pissed off. Everything around couldn’t seem or sound more annoying, from footsteps, pigeons walking on the sidewalks (c’mon birds, what were your wings made for?), even the slightest signal of loud breathing could trigger the woman into punching someone. She marched across the streets, arms tight in front of her chest, pressing the thin white sweater firm against body. Her steps were noisy, white sneakers hitting the asfalt harshly and expressing how angry Jade was.

Her morning began normal. Alarm rang 7 a.m, waking Jade up to another day of working, seeing the same faces all over again, talking about repetitive subjects, as if her life was nothing but a clockwork, repeating day after day the same boring routine established by human biological needs supplied by money, which buys foods, snacks and pays for Netflix. Well, it also reimburse bills, rent and gas, but it’s always implicit anyways.

Usually, living the weekly cycle wouldn’t bother her. As long as that routine left her free from getting in debt, then no changes were necessary. Jade had been living like that for over five years now, why to change? Take the risk of becoming unhappy and indebted. Goosebumps would run up her spine whenever imagining such possibility.

Feeling safe and sound, Jade enjoyed that sensation. Whenever she drove her car, arrived at home and had dinner peacefully, any doubts or thoughts of quitting her 9 to 5 job would vanish. Pasta tastes better than starving. However, not everyone she knew lived like that, Hoseok was, quoting Jade’s own words, completely out of his mind, moving and crashing into a different home every month, coaching dance in several academies, but never establishing in one for longer than five groups of 30 days. His routine was so unsure and unpredictable.

Of course, Hoseok always had something new to tell. Everytime their group of mutual friends decided to reunite in a bar, the currently redheaded man would entertain everyone with a story about how he spent three nights sleeping on a janitor’s room, or how he convinced someone met on Tinder to let him live for a whole month into his house. The man had no boundaries or roots, anyone related to Hoseok would admire it, except for Jade. She always listened and judged his choices as something out of reality.

She never felt surprised by his wild, borderline insane, tales. They met young and even back in then, Hoseok was a gypsy and lived happily by not settling. Basically, according to Jung Hoseok himself, after watching his parents divorcing and having two different homes, not digging roots and always gaining for a period of time somewhere new to name as home, felt like relieve. Jade always offered to pay him some psychiatrist appointments, because not a single thing from his discourse sounded sane for her.

Who the heck would possibly feel constantly happy, mainly not knowing if there would be a roof above his head next morning? Her thoughts on Hoseok were so low, that after hearing he bragging about fucking with a girl only to sleep at her place, Jade lowered even more the standards for him.

However, that morning something happened, a situation which her mechanic had guaranteed wouldn’t happen so soon: the car broke. Something about a fan inside engines. She couldn’t rationalize what was happening with the automobile, not whilst trying to run and get a bus to downtown. By the way, not knowing the schedule to public transportation can kill any tight routine, and Jade found it out quite late, literally, her shift began at 9 a.m and by 8h45 a.m she was not even close to get there.

Working as a hospital receptionist, punctualism was a must, which was Jade’s forte. She hardly arrived late for any occasion, missing a day of work? Not even in her wildest dreams. Mainly in an important day, like when the boss scheduled to pay a visit and check if his investments were in good (read responsible) hands.

What were the odds? Murphy’s Laws are a bitch. Jade hated with all heart The Chaos Theory, mainly watching years of good work ruining in front of her eyes, as 9h45 approached and she was still seating still on one of the subway’s benches. Her receptionist co-worker texting and asking where the fuck she was, quit reading them after replying three and feeling desperation racing the heart, making it pound against her ribcage.

Every functioning speaker inside the wagon announced an emergency stop, ‘cuz apparently someone decided that rush hour was an appropriate moment to jump in the rail tracks. 10h12 a.m and the subway began moving again. Jade melting on her seat.

In the moment she arrived in her station, Jade jumped off the wagon and ran with every remained trace of oxygen. Driving a car, and counting on the traffic jam, she would have had arrived in 45 minutes, even with accidents and SNOW she never took over 2 hours to get at the hospital.

After sitting on her desk and gaining a very intimidating stare from the co-worker, Jade began turning the computer on and answering calls. She wanted to act as nothing odd have had happened, working hard to compensate the delay. Typing faster than ever, scheduling examinations and MRIs, some x-rays, also paying attention everyone arriving and asking for directions. Her determination was admirable, but things never were purely good, not in such a shitty day.

Between schedules and calls, Jade took a look on the Excel spreadsheet and the agenda she noticed a BIG FAT mistake. When arrived and desperately began working, she forgot to check which day was marked on the page she began typing the examinations and appointments, after two hours nonstop Jade realized that everything were written and scheduled for the day before. Conclusion: all the work worthed nothing and she spent her shift fixing everything.

The boss was nowhere near happy with all delay and asked Jade’s manager about her performance. It was no secret that Mindy disliked Jade, but no one would ever imagine the woman lying by criticizing nonexistent flaws, such as constant lateness and rudeness against patients, and about incompetence. Well, he took her dirty words for granted and didn’t even bother in asking for more than one opinion.

To put it shortly: Jade was no longer a St.Bartholomew's employee.

Jade left the building feeling anger consuming every pore and cell inside her body. Five years, not five months. FIVE FUCKING YEARS living, breathing, eating and existing around working for St.Bartholomew and suddenly a shitty day was enough to be kicked out, as if every extra shift and hard working, good execution and quick learning meant nothing.

Ok, maybe she wasn’t the best co-worker. Possibly a bit rude sometimes. Hardly joined everyone in get-togethers or lunches. Never contributed in paying birthday cakes (or joined the choir when Happy Birthday began), but at least Jade always replied the “good morning”, “good afternoon” and “good night” proffered to her. So what she barely answered texts? Or befriended almost no one, except for the security guard, from there? Not everyone is a social butterfly such as Hoseok, she had close friends and were glad with them.

Also, you don’t get a prize or ‘Best Co-worker Award’, but working hard would always turn into remunerated vacations. Who would even think that treating people with indifference can actually hurt them? What is she now? Dr.Phill? Oprah?

While furiously wandering around the avenue, Jade figured that a huge glass of Martini would help. No! Not a Martini, but a whole bottle of wine and Cup Noodles, watching thoroughly some high-quality Netflix content. Maybe inviting friends over? No, not friends, she wanted distance from humankind for a few hours.

- x - x - x - x -

Jade was walking to Walmart, when someone began calling her name. She searched for whoever that was (possibly wishing to punch that person), but got startled in the moment Shmailah appeared from inside the shoes store beside her, carrying a huge bag. They hugged and the conversation started, whilst looking for a bar or pub.

– What a shitty day, Jadie. - Shims said caressing her friend’s back, watching her swallow in one long sip a cup of vodka. - Let me pay your drink, you deserve some comfort now.

– I still have money, Shims. - Jade said and grinned, even wishing to sink down in a whole gallon of hard liquor. - But if you really want to pay me something, then next month you can take charge of a few bills.

– Don’t be silly, you’ll find another job like that. - The girl with dark hair and shiny eyes said, snapping fingers and smiling, sipping on her chocolate milkshake right after.

The music playing around them was calming, rhythm soothing and healing, if the words sang repeatedly weren’t so painful and sad, then the ambience would feel even romantic. Whoever were the responsible could fucking drown with Jade and her good mood, since she was feeling like a whole dumpster and the voice’s owner was probably someone quite sensitive.

– I’m going to punch that man singing. He is making me feel sad and lonely. - Jade said and took a short sip on the vodka. - Somehow his voice is making me want to start dating someone, only to break up and say those words along. Music is powerful, dude.

– He is also quite cute. - Shims uttered looking in the small and darkened stage, glaring at a small, skinny, black-haired, korean guy with noticeable cute cheeks, playing his guitar and singing with soul and body. - Ugh, whoever cheated on him probably didn’t see it coming. What a sad song.

– We are so much better. - The small korean guy sang, a deep voice astounding those who paid attention. - When we are, not together.

Jade looked back, trying not to fall from the chair and stared at where Shims was also looking. Indeed, he was cute, talented and kind of hot… Wait a second, Shmaillah never said anything about him being hot. Maybe Jade was already lightheaded, so brand new unannounced information popped up inside her head like internet pop-ups, or Youtube advertisements.

Employed Jade would never drink at 5 p.m and think dirty stuff about someone unknown at 6 p.m. What a turn of events in less than 24 hours, huh?

– Shims, can you please help me go there and give him money? - Jade asked raising one eyebrow. - I want so bad to give him something, and I think money wouldn’t be considered harassment.

– Jadie, we can totally go there, but please stop drinking, it’s your second cup and you’re already planning to get laid with someone you know nothing about. - The dark-haired woman said seriously and smiled, not leaving traces of tension. - Two more cups and you’ll be starting to consider raising kids with him.

– Our children would look great, ok? - Jade said laughing and finishing her second cup of vodka, still staring at the singer.

They kept on talking, well, Shims started commenting on something about Hoseok. Apparently the redheaded man is now dating some guy he met during one his classes in an University (Jade didn’t even knew Hoseok graduated in something other than High School). Someone named Taemin and also a great dancer. Jade moved her glare from “The Singer” only to login in Facebook and find Hobi’s new boyfriend.

It’s not like Jade was surprised Hoseok was dating. They met during High School, and beside all differences, their friendship lasted long and remained even after so many years. Not surprisingly, the group began growing considerably with Hobi inviting Taehyung, who brought his love interest together, Shims, which introduced them to Taylor, Zariah, Robin, DiLayla, Bárbara and Emerson, she who had been dating Kim Namjoon, a friend of Seokjin, Jungkook and Jimin, whose great humour ended up mingling well and becoming part of the pack.

Whoever decided to understand their group of friends from an outsider perspective, would probably go nuts, because not even them understood. Also, their relationship was complicated, basically, everyone at some point kissed everyone, except for the long lasting couple Emerson and Namjoon. The greatest bacchanal began when Taehyung and Shims broke up for the first time and he made a move towards Di, they kissed, but never ignited a make-out session. Shims would never be left behind and called Jin, who was fighting with Zariah (his significant other, and possibly the closest person).

Shortening a long and rather intrincated story: Jin is now engaged to DiLayla, Jimin and Robin got surprisingly closer, Shims and Taehyung are still together, Namjoon and Emerson is the unproblematic couple, Zariah is dating someone called Bang Chan (she never formally introduced him, so he is not officially part of The Chaos Club), Taylor even denying is totally dating Jungkook, and Bárbara is with someone called Lisa, an actress who spends more time in Korea than in New York. Jade had a short affair with Jimin, but the man liked Binnie way too much. She also dated for a long time someone called Calum, and after the breakup decided to focus on her career.

While Shims kept on discussing the probabilities of Hoseok remaining into that relationship for longer than two months, Jade was far and deep inside her own mind, tangling herself between thoughts and drunk fantasies, “The Singer” somehow appeared as well, his voice working as the narrator for whatever she was thinking.

– It’s been so long every since I felt something other than indignation towards Hoseok. - Jade pronounced out loud, with a bass voice, imitating “The Singer”.

– What? - Shims questioned chuckling.

– Sorry, I was thinking out loud… With another voice in my head. - Jade explained and brushed off. - But I'm serious, I broke up with Calum four years ago and every since then I never felt another warm sensation other than tears, whilst watching some emotional crap on Netflix. I went to dates with some dudes, but things never… You know, never made my heart beat faster and all that romantic and lovey dovey stuff.

– Complicated. - Shims furrowed her eyebrows, raising them in an arc seconds later. - The Singer stopped singing and is taking a break. It's now or never. - She pushed Jade's chair and watched the woman trying to let her long dark-blonde hair down.

– I don't know what to say. Should I buy him a drink? - Jade questioned worried sick and smoothing out her clothes, and obviously trying to procrastinate. She just got fired and felt touched by a sad song, it’s not like Jade actually wanted to go on a date, maybe get laid, but not while feeling emotionally wrecked and confused.

Fuck. Jade wanted to chicken out, but something on Shims eyes seemed very intimidating and without realizing, her legs began working on their own, guiding a half-drunk woman in The Singer’s direction.

There he was. Standing beside the stage with a glass of wine on one hand and checking his cellphone. His black hair fell like a sheer, soft-looking curtain on his forehead covering a bit of his small and dark eyes. A big black shirt with long-sleeves folded to the elbows, jeans painted the same colour, with trenched knees, and a dirty pair of Vans. Ok, the man seemed even hotter staring him closer. Jade wanted to run and have four more drinks before going home, but before she could escape, he looked up and saw a woman looking at him, without blinking.

– Can I help you? - He asked with a voice as soft as his hair, no trace of accent found.

– Hmm, Jade. - The woman said, trying desperately to find coherent words, but only facing a HUGE URGE to use her long hair like a cocoon, hiding and only leaving when butterfly wings grew on her back. - I mean, my name is Jade.

– Nice to meet you, Jade. - The man said and binned his cellphone in one of the back pockets. - My name is Min Yoongi. Can I help you with something? Like teaching you how to blink.

– What? - Jade raised her eyebrows and blinked a few times before smiling and slowly remembering how to act like a proper adult, not a drunk grown up, which was her actual situation. - Sorry about that. You’re a really good singer. Is that song yours?

Min Yoongi smiled, a gummy and cute smile. He sat down on the stage and patted the wood beside, inviting a very flustered Jade to join him. That simple action made the blood before accumulated on her body flow straight to her cheeks, warming the whole face. Nevetheless, she took the place beside the skinny man.

– Thank you. And no, the songs I chose for today aren’t mine. - Yoongi proffered, looking at Jade. - They are from a korean band called NELL. I do compose, though.

– You are hot and talented, of course you also compose. - Jade almost bit her tongue after letting those words accidentally escape. - Sorry. I’m visibly punchy and pissed off at the St.Bartholomew’s Hospital.

– Thank you and I’m sorry, I guess. - Yoongi said, not knowing exactly what to say, but feeling his cheeks getting warmer. - Well, I only have to sing for more ten minutes and then I’m free. Do you want to talk about it, whilst drinking a soda? I ain’t gonna pay you more alcohol, or you’d become a walking fire hazard.

– Deal. - She said and stood up, shaking hands with Yoongi and walking in the bar’s direction, flustered and internally panicking, leaving a smiley man behind.

Jade made her best to sit beside Shims and not fall. Yoongi was clearly staring, so slumping to the ground would be rather embarrassing. She stayed silent, ‘til listening to his voice singing again, then turned to her friend and began speaking.

– I was about to ask if you wanted me to help you getting home safe and sound, but now I’ll just casually leave. - Shims chuckled and touched her shoulder. - I ain’t gonna third wheel your first date in ages.

– Shims! I’m not in condition of dealing with such a cute and hot guy! - Jade was still tipsy and holding the tears. - My plan before meeting you was to buy a ton of Cup Noodles and wine, so I could mildew alone at home. You can’t leave me with him! I strongly doubt someone would ever feel attracted to a grown ass woman whining and sobbing.

– See, Jade, I will stand up, pay my bar tab and leave. - The dark-haired woman said while petting her friend’s arm. - You can do whatever seems right. If running for your life sounds better than speaking to someone so talented and sweet, then go for it.

– Thank you. That’s exactly what I’ll do. - Jade told and stood up after grabbing a twenty dollar bill and some dimes inside her pocket, throwing everything on the counter, trying to leave without stumbling and falling, being followed by a giggly Shims.

- x - x - x - x -

Unsurprisingly, in the moment Jade arrived at home with four chicken-flavoured Cup Noodles and box of wine, she immediately felt regret for leaving the bar. Placing all the food on the kitchen table, she dragger herself to one sofa, laying heavily there.

– What the fuck? - Jade questioned staring at the ceiling. - Why such a shitty day? What the actual fuck, God? Not a single good thing happened to me! I know I’m not the most interesting human being walking on earth, but I certainly don’t deserve to be punished twice in a single day. - She turned to one side, looking at the TV and seeing her reflection there, shrunk in a fetal position. - Great, now I’m speaking to myself. Unemployed and crazy. Even worse. Unemployed, crazy and definitely not getting some.

Weary of staring at her own misery reflected on the turned off TV, Jade decided to stick to the original plan: eat Cup Noodles, drink wine and watch as many cliche, lameass rom coms as she could find on Netflix.

It’s The Notebook night, bitch.

…

– WHY ARE YOU SO MEAN, MR.DARCY? - Jade yelled at the TV, accidentally dropping one of the chopsticks, a bunch of used and new tissues around her tiny figure in comparison to the huge sofa. - Elizabeth loves you! True love is a total lie.

She was sobbing in a pool of self-pity and tears, some of them drying on her cheeks, some just bathing her old pajama t-shirt (a very ancient Bananas in Pajamas one). Totally fed after consecutively gulping down two Cup Noodles and three glasses full of wine, considering the idea of ordering some pizza and a male stripper.

– Goddamn Lord. That Yoongi guy ruined me. - Jade thought out loud, after picturing herself calling somewhere with strippers. - Before listening to his depressive songs and staring at his cute eyes and cheeks, I was satisfied with my nonexistent romantic life, now I’m considering the idea of nurturing a very dirty business. What the fuck? Why am I talking to myself again? Gosh, I better stop drinking. - She placed her glass on the coffee table, but not before chugging the wine.

Jade knew that “The Self-care night” was pure bullshit. She wished to avoid at every cost thinking about her day. Rationalizing all the occurred would make her feel desperate and sad, a bit anxious as well.

Stability. That’s exactly what Jade looked for her whole life. A settle down lifestyle, without worrying about money or having a roof above her head.

After leaving her parents home and going to college, she defined as a goal to live comfortably somewhere secure, with a good job and being able to eat, sleep, spend a bit more without losing her mind over lack of money. Stability, she found it and established in a small apartment, working everyday and slowly acquiring more and more stuff.

Most people considered her lifestyle a bit boring. Not even a single worry. Nothing different happening. No adventures. The friends admired her strength and how hard Jade worked, but would never trade some of their “easy struggles” for her settled living. It was incredibly predictable and perfect. Completely opposite to what Hoseok lived by. The young man took YOLO way too seriously and constantly found himself drowning in debts, but somehow also always gained money paying everything and going back to exploring what life had to give.

Totally opposites. Two different polarities from a same magnet. Although, in such a complicated situation Hoseok was always the first person Jade thought about calling. They knew each other for long enough to trust and deal with their differences as well as with similarities.

After the end scenes of Pride and Prejudice, Jade grabbed her cellphone and still sobbing dialed Hoseok’s number, hoping he could answer the call and chat a little bit.

– Hey, Jeed. - Hoseok picked up and said happily, as always. A loud music playing around him. - What’s up? Everything is smooth and soothe?

– Hey Hobi. - Jade tried to speak without crying, but thinking about the current situation made a sobbing mess of her. - Everything is shitty. So shitty. Oh Hobi, my life is ruining like Constantinople!

– Calm down, my friend. - He asked, voice soft and sweet as a sunny day of summer. Loud music still could be heard, slightly fading as Hoseok walked far from where he originally was. - Tell me what happened, don’t spare details, you know I love them.

– Aren’t you busy? I can hear a loud EDM music. Are you working on any dance academy? Or worse, were you busy WITH Taemin? - Jade questioned feeling a bit of guilt filling her guts.

– Don’t worry, Jeed. I’m in a party, some friend of mine took a job as DJ and invited me to prestige his work. Nothing new, I attend to gigs like that almost everyday. - Hoseok uttered, still using his sunny sounding voice. - Now tell me, what happened?

– If you insist… - She sighed and poured some more wine, ignoring her own promise of stop drinking. - I was fired from my job on that hospital, St.Bartholomew. But before being dismissed, my day began shitty when the car broke and I took public transportation. Traffic jam, accident in an avenue, someone tossed itself on the rails making me two hours late. I fucked up some Excel sheets and scheduled appointments, my boss was there checking if everything worked alright and Mindy, the nurse and manager I commented with you that hated me, she lied and it made me get fired. Unemployed and sad. That’s how I am.

– But I feel that something else happened after being fired. Did someone hurt you? - Hoseok asked. Now Jade could no longer hear the EDM song playing as a background sound.

– Well… I met someone at a bar with Shims. - Jade felt her cheeks getting warm only by thinking about Yoongi’s voice. - I bumped on her and we decided to have some drinks to seize my pain. After two vodkas, I decided to chat with the cute guy singing there, and fuck, he was hot and invited me to drink some soda, ‘cuz he wouldn’t pay me more alcohol or, in his own words, I’d become a fire hazard. He got back on stage to finish his presentation and I ran away from that bar, even after accepting his drink offer.

– So now you’re feeling lonely and guilty? - The redheaded man questioned, she could picture him raising one eyebrow in disapproval. It made Jade grin and stop crying.

– Basically.

– Did you even ask the man’s name? Or you just said something incredibly smart, flirted a little and then made him fall for your beauty? - Again the disapproval voice, she could picture one of his eyebrows almost touching the hairline.

– I did ask, you moron. Stop assuming I was that drunk. - She cooed and looked at the wine inside her glass. - Min Yoongi.

– Ooooh! You flirted with Min Yoongi? And he didn’t turn you out? Lucky girl. - Hoseok’s sunny voice made a comeback, changing back to disapproval seconds later. - Bad news, now he probably hates you.

– I know, I would hate myself too. - Jade murmured, feeling sad again. - I wish I could talk to him again and explain everything, maybe justify all the mess.

Hoseok told Jade that he would turn off the phone, but was going to call her in a few minutes. Giggling, the redheaded demanded her to not pass out or go to sleep, receiving a very ugly word in response.

Before getting to actually know Hoseok and Jade, people would always assume they were a couple. A common mistake, considering how close and for how long they would’ve been annoying and supporting each other. Everytime one had a problem, the other would automatically try its best to solve or at least help. Monetarily (as Jade assisted Hobi so many times) or emotionally (as they used to lend a hand more often than both would ever admit).

Nevertheless, their relationship never crossed the thin line between everlasting friendship and romantic bond. What they had was so rare and unique, that even after bringing so many new friends to their “pack”, some sharing more similarities with both, Hoseok and Jade only fully trusted each other.

Despite everything mentioning, affirming and proving how strong their bond is, Hoseok and Jade indeed had REAL and SERIOUS fights. Once the argument made them stop talking to each other for almost a whole year, when they detached everything they could possibly keep in common (even mutual friendships, that’s when most couples formed actually).

During that period of time where Jade and Hobi were separated, Taylor mentioned something about ‘akai-ito’, a serie she watched with Jimin and found very intriguing. Basically, akai-ito is a thin red yarn connecting every human being, uniting mainly soulmates. Everyone shared an ‘akai-ito’ sometimes with more than one person ‘cuz it worked both with friends and romantic bond.

Apparently, the red wire connecting Hoseok and Jade never allowed them to detach forever. After one full year not even glancing in the other’s direction, he had serious problems with a girlfriend and needed somewhere to stay, specifically a place where Ellie wouldn’t even imagine where. Watching her friend desperate and begging for forgiveness, Jade felt the heart melt a little and things got back on track.

While Jade choose what she wanted to watch next (something between 17 Again and Marley & Me), Hoseok called back.

– Why did you turn off the call? - Jade inquired still tracking something good to watch on Netflix.

– Well, you want to apologize and ask for Yoongi hyung’s forgiveness, right? - Hobi said and before she could even think about replying, he continued gladly. - Well, it’s your lucky day. Guess who is the DJ friend I mentioned previously?

–You’ve got to be kidding me! - She dropped the remote control and stared blankly at one white wall. - Is it a prank? I’m sad, Hoseok. It’s not cool to play with someone’s sadness.

– Hi Jade. - A cold well known voice said on the other end. - It’s Min Yoongi, or the guy you dumped earlier.

In that moment Jade froze, not knowing what to say. When she began venting about Yoongi with Hoseok a few minutes earlier, Jade was still beginning to think about what could be said as an apology. Whilst holding her phone and trying not to cry again, the woman risked to gather some coherent words again.

– Min Yoongi. I’m surprised to hear your voice. - She pronounced and regretted immediately, aware that her words and tone sounded as if he were the guilt one. - I’m sorry, I sounded cocky and I’m actually so insecure about that call, because as you may know, or not since Hoseok is a complete scumbag, I wasn’t expecting to put together so soon a whole apology for what I did earlier. Like, I never intended to accept and dump you, I didn’t even know you earlier and I was sad, recently unemployed, a bit horny and tipsy. So yeah, Hoseok isn’t the only scumbag, I’m the whole trash can. Sorry. I’m really sorry and I drank half a box of wine and my mind is blurry, but I’m sorry for sure. Hope you can forgive me, or at least consider the idea before dumping it like I did with your soda invitation. Right now I’m a fire hazar…

– Ok, can you please let me talk? - Yoongi demanded, still sounding cold, or it could be only Jade’s insecurity, since she heard his talking voice for five minutes and couldn’t possibly know how to differ happy from bored Min Yoongi. - Hoseok may be a scumbag sometimes, and he slapped me for saying that, but yeah he is also a very cool guy, which used his friendship with me to explain your situation. See, I’m still feeling my ego ache a little, but considering everything you went through earlier, then I can forgive you, under one condition...

– That’s alright. I’ll never call Hoseok a scumbag again. - She declared and then realized Yoongi didn’t finish to say what he wanted. - It’s your condition, right? Not calling Hoseok a scumbag again.

– No, it’s not. Two conditions now, nothing related to Hoseok, though. - Yoongi’s voice sounded less irritated. - One, you have to make me a proper dinner invitation, and two, don’t interrupt me while I speak. It’s annoying.

– Oh, ok. Shall I get your phone number so the dinner details can be discussed with more compromise? - Jade asked in a flirty tone.

– Not a problem, I’ll send you my phone number through Hobi’s phone. - Yoongi stated with also a flirty voice. - Thank you for the apology. Bye, Jade.

Yoongi turned off the call and a few minutes later a message made her mobile ring. Hoseok sent a phone number. Jade took no time in saving and texting him something cool:

‘Hey bro. Sup? What will it be? McDonald’s or Burger King?’

‘It’s not proper. Or an invitation. Try again, Jade’

- x - x - x - x -

– It's dumb! - Jade said and grabbed Yoongi's fist, trying to open it. - You can't and won't put an olive inside your nose! Not under my watch.

– Come on, Jade! Hoseok once tried to put a dollar dime in there and surprisingly it fitted. An olive is easy and greased. - Yoongi chuckled, closing his fist even harder and watching the woman beginning to scratch every piece of skin exposed. - He was high, but who cares? HE INSERTED A COIN IN HIS NOSE.

– Stop yelling. - She felt her cheeks getting warm with everyone around them staring. Maybe having a “casual date” somewhere fancy wasn't a good idea. - I know Hoseok did it. When we were in high school someone doubted he could make a condom pass from his nose to his mouth. He almost choked on the latex but won a bet. You really shouldn't base on Hobi’s personal experiences to define what you can or cannot do. Mainly when it comes to inserting stuff in any body cavity.

– That phrase wasn't well planned. - Yoongi chuckled and when it clicked, Jade felt her face getting even warmer. - You convinced me of not testing my nostril flexibility. Shall we order? Or shall we pay for the breadsticks we consumed and go grab something at In ‘N’ Out?

– Honestly? I’m still unemployed and there are no job offers in sight, so In ‘N’ Out seems financially better for me. - Jade cooed staring at the menu. - The cheapest dinner course here can pay two combos in any fast food place.

Leaving the restaurant, Yoongi and Jade felt light. Mood couldn't be better, without tension or alcohol involved their conversation. It was endearing and scary. They had a great and, if I may say, cliche connection. Completing each other’s phrases and blushing whenever their looks crossed, fingers “accidentally” brushing. The woman felt like everything was a romcom, and couldn’t be more gleeful.

Before meeting and having that great date, they texted each other for two days straight, trying to relocate Yoongi’s scheduled gigs and work in a music studio (apparently, he not only composes, but also produces, sing and can rap. What a package, Ma’am). After a lot of talking, he decided to leave the studio earlier and spend a whole night beside her.

Going out with someone she actually enjoyed the company felt weird. Jade decided to focus on a successful career and comfortable life rather than romance, so after breaking up with her boyfriend no one else really appealed. A couple of one night stands, but nothing serious or swore to last.

Therefore, Yoongi appeared.

Jade was far from being in love with Min Yoongi, but would never deny that his texts were funny, and himself was a delight to speak. Somehow his sarcastic nature and cute face completed a perfect combo, and the woman could spend hours staring at how Yoongi’s cheeks seemed always filled with marshmellows, or how some words were pronounced with a pout on lips. The gummy smile, that memorable gummy smile.

…

They ordered some burgers and fries from In ‘N’ Out, deciding to eat somewhere else. Yoongi invited Jade to his place, so the dinner could happen for free on his roof, under stars and moon.

Yoongi’s appartement was small and cozy, with blueish LED lights against dark blue walls, making the room seen smaller, and a huge black leather sofa. Whilst grabbing some blankets and pillows to cover the floor, he mentioned that his favourite thing about there was actually the soundsystem and soundproof walls, which were the first two things installed when he finally got enough money.

– I was 24 and Lenny Kravitz paid for one of my compositions. - Yoongi bragged and opened the stairs door, guiding Jade up to the last floor. - Of course only Lenny’s wage didn’t pay it all alone. I saved every sight of money I could and, it’s a secret, skipped several meals, only to eat less. Now I can totally live off what I receive from the studio, but singing in pubs and bars is fun.

– Inspiring. I would never give up the opportunity of having a definitive work, even with my family, to live such a crazy dream in a whole another country. - Jade said, trying to breathe calmly after climbing four sets of stairs. - You left Korea, knowing a bit of english and basically made your life here? Without any help? Inspiring, truly inspiring.

– I won’t play humble. It was hard and lonely, until I met Jung Hoseok. We shared the rent several times. - Yoongi smiled and finally opened the rooftop door.

The rooftop wasn’t incredible. It had some plants and flowers being cultivated here and there, old and rusty benches, but in the middle of everything could be seem a small clean space.

– I guessed you wouldn’t actually want to have dinner somewhere fancy, so I paid Mr.Edwards, better known as my Landlord, to clean a small piece of the rooftop. - Yoongi murmured, hiding his cheeks and embarrassment. - Hoseok said I was crazy, that you would never accept to leave Olive Garden to eat some takeout here. According, and I quote his words, you are way too dependent of comfort and boring adult conventions to live such a childish experience.

– Can I call him scumbag? - Jade questioned feeling flustered and gaining a gummy, also flustered, smile from Yoongi.

Hoseok wasn’t completely wrong, though. Jade hated to leave the comfort of a restaurant and, of course, would never imagine herself eating junk food on a rooftop full of barely recognizable plants. She valued the stability and predictability from certain situations, mainly over scenarios where something could go deadly wrong.

What were the odds, though? She was unemployed and if ever allowed herself to have complete meals in expensive places, would run out of money shortly after. The idea of being so unstable freaked Jade out, but as the tough woman she became, admitting wasn’t even an option.

Years working and leaving night outs early, all with the finality of being a good employee. Her happy and borderline boring life depended on that job. Losing it resulted in anxiety attacks for two nights in a row and liters of tears, desperate sobs and a feeling of failure, deep down.

Jade became her work.

Focusing on Jade’s expression, Yoongi captured a feeling of emptiness. As if her happiness was only a momentum situation, not constant. Every time the woman lost herself in a sorrow brain and waves of thoughts, the beautiful eyes got opaque and sad, shortly after brushing it off and desperately trying to hide how far she actually looked. I mean, a body was definitely sitting beside Min Yoongi, but the mind would go and come back, an ocean-like motion.

– How don't you get motion sick? - Yoongi questioned, still staring at Jade. He took a bite from his burger and chewed, focusing on the city lights.

– What do you mean? - Jade answered with another question, dipping a fry on a small puddle of ketchup.

– Your mind. It seems so work like a sea. - He replied and turned to look at her. - I can see by looking into your eyes. You think about what's bragging in waves, focusing on that sorrow subject and distracting, going back and then letting go again. Waves. I'd totally feel nauseous.

– Well, I do get nauseated sometimes. Whenever the waves become tsunamis, my stomach flips. - The woman answered and took a sip from the soda.

– You are thinking about your old job aren't you? - He cocked his head to the side.

– I don't know. I don't feel comfortable about venting. - Jade couldn't look straight at Yoongi, flustered with the idea of telling him what passes through her mind. - But you seem like someone reliable. See, I always loved feeling secure and stable. The stability of having a job, a tight routine and security of earning enough to pay all my bills loosely, nothing ever felt better. My parents always had problems with money and a house, so leaving their wings and spreading my own, being able to construct a boring yet safe life became my main goal.

“I am independent by nature, safety doesn't mean having someone to stand by me, but owning a whole fucking place to warm me up during cold winters. A house, or apartment, with walls and somewhere to cook. I felt complete. Now everything is confusing. I don't know if I'll be able to pay my rent in two months. Instability is a nightmare.”

Yoongi wasn't sure about what to do. Should he hug? Tap her shoulder? Caress her back? Kiss Jade? Suck her sadness out by the tongue? Oh, it's taking a whole different turn, which he never intended in taking.

In fact, Yoongi felt a sort of attraction towards Jade. Who wouldn't feel? A great, independent, smart, attractive and funny woman, in her own way, also unique and deeply interesting. Her passion was admirable, reminded Yoongi of himself.

When they first met, at the bar, Yoongi thought she was beautiful, even a bit punchy, and honestly wanted to pay her something to drink (even considering the idea of buying stuff in trade of physical contact was narrow, edging old-minded). He felt offended when Jade left, literally running away.

He felt surprised when Hoseok appeared with his phone in hands and babbling about a friend, specifically a girl who dumped him in a bar and was now regretting it. At first Yoongi wanted to ignore Jade, but her day seemed to end pretty shitty. Why not to give another shot?

Gladly he did.

– I'm afraid of compromise. - Yoongi murmured, trying to make Jade listen, but not wanting it at the same time.

– Well, it's not something bad. - Jade slide her hand closer to his on the blanket, slightly touching pinkies. - I don't have problems with compromise, as long as they don't disturb my routine.

– You don't get it. I like going out with people, but engaging in a romantic relationship frightens me up. - He still murmured, but now a little louder. - Making a relationship work isn't a piece of cake. Not for me. I understand when you say your priority is working and becoming stable. I think exactly the same. Ugh, it's so lonely to live like I do, but producing songs have always been my dream...

Jade got courage and ran her fingers along Yoongi’s, intertwining them. Both blushed and grinned. Slowly, and unsure, the man turned around and bent a little, brushing his soft lips against Jade's cheek. She made the same movements, but intentionally kissing him. A small and shy peck.

Like magic working through their veins, Yoongi rested his hand on Jade's cheek, deepening the kiss. In a slow pace, they putted the food away and laid down, trading smooches and pecks, with no intention of going further. His body on top of hers, under moonlight and stars.

They stayed there, in a comfortable silence for a long time. Watching the moon and trying to forget problems and outside world.

- x - x - x - x -

Three months later, Yoongi and Jade were still seeing each other quite often. Suiting his frighten of compromise, they never meant to label what kind of bond were shared.

Yoongi helped Jade to improve her resume, with some editing and a bit more of detail, no one could possibly deny a job. One month after their “unofficial date”, she was hired by a newspaper as a receptionist and occasional movie critic (She sent her opinion and whenever it sounded coherent, they published and paid an extra).

Her obsession with stability and security remained, but now sharing worries and struggles with someone special.

Hoseok proudly took credit for reuniting them after the bar fiasco. Shims disagreed saying their akai-ito tied in the moment she and Jade entered that bar and coincidentally where Yoongi was singing.

The Chaos Club decided to reunite somewhere fun (or the bar Yoongi and Jade first met), have a few drinks and talk about life, listen to some new stories from Hoseok, and turn Yoongi officially a new member of their pack.

Taylor held hands right with Jungkook, Robin and Jimin were indeed together, Emerson and Namjoon kept their title as Unproblematic Couple, Zariah and Bang Chan had bickerings but remained as a couple, Jin and Di were still engaged, but now planning their wedding party and preparing to invite their best men and maid of honour. Bárbara was glad, almost morphing into Lisa through a hug. Shims and Taehyung were throwing bread crumbs on each other, but occasionally stopping to say something sweet, teasing and starting all over again. Hoseok was surprisingly quiet, whispering things on Taemin’s ear.

The loud speaking and confusion stopped when Jade and Yoongi appeared, getting in the bar holding hands and laughing at something she said. His work finished an hour earlier, but he showed at her job and made company until she could leave as well.

In the moment the couple settled down and ordered some drinks, Hoseok showed up with a closed umbrella.

– Can I start the acceptance ceremony? We have to celebrate their unlabeled relationship! - Jung Hoseok pronounced and stared at his friends, and boyfriend (already accepted as a Chaos Club member), Taemin.

– Just go, Jung. - Yoongi said, rolling his eyes.

– You cannot tell me what or not to do, yet, Min. - Hoseok mocked and raising an eyebrow in fake disapproval.

– Then I can. Just go, Jung. - Jade told harshly, but smiled innocently right after.

– Now that an official Chaos Club said it, I can start. - He cleared his throat and began talking. - Today, my fellows and lover, we are willing and ready to accept a new member to our family, our club, our escape of human average intelligence and cheap humour, The Chaos Club. Here we have Min Yoongi, Jade's partner in crime, and a friend of mine. Do anyone have any problems or anything to add? Is anyone against his addition to our deary club of friends? - Not a single word, everybody just smiled at how theatrical Hoseok seemed holding the umbrella like a sword. - Since not a soul disagreed with my words, I proclaim Min Yoongi as a member from The Chaos Club. - He touched both Yoongi’s shoulders with the umbrella. - Now everybody drink a shot of tequila in honour of this historical moment. Cheers!

Everybody took in one sip the previously poured tequila. Jade and Yoongi smiled widely and kissed, getting their crowd to applause their action.

Jade and Yoongi were now officially together.

- x - x - x - x -

P:S I love you x

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