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#i would have a whole year to work on my applications
felinefractious · 3 days
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I tried to adopt a cat from a rescue, I really did. I filled out and submitted applications to 5 different rescues because the local SPCAs didn't have cats that fit my needs (social with cats and dogs, approximately 1 year old, high energy, and preferably long or medium haired).
I explained in detail the care I give my current cupcake. She's spayed, gets routine vet care, is up to date on shots. She has her own room (my room) which is set up with shelves, trees, 2 litter boxes. She gets supervised free roam of the house (not 24/7 because of lifestyle reasons). I use puzzle feeders for her meals- high end brands like The Honest Kitchen, Open Farm, Stella and Chewy (I like to mix it up to keep it interesting). I play with her at least twice a day, or whenever she asks. Indoors only. She has a water fountain. We're working on harness training. I made it clear I had a second room set up similarly and ready to go, and carefully researched introductions. Dogs are cat social and kenneled unless supervised. I don't know, I feel like my cat lives a good life. She's happy, fit, and I adore her.
Couple of weeks past and I received 5 rejection emails with reasons such: I maintain a very small flock of exhibition poultry, that I do breed and sell the chicks of seasonally, which is...immoral to them, I guess; my brother who does live in the same household has intact show and working dogs; the dogs are kenneled (what??); I don't work full-time; one even said it was because I feed my current cat dry food instead of wet food. My cat straight up won't eat wet food! She hates it! I replied and said I would offer wet food if the new cat wanted it, and they never responded.
It all just seemed like weird reasons to me. Maybe not, I don't know if that's just how rescues are. I ended up with my cat through the pregnant cat distribution system (my mom owns her mom) so I didn't have to deal with takes on cat care I didn't get.
Dejected, I started looking on Craigslist and saw a cat that perfectly fit my needs- a sphynx outcross project that tested positive for mild HCM (asymptomatic for now) so the breeder who purchased him immediately neutered him. So I asked about him, located a cardiologist and scheduled an appointment with my vet ahead of time to get a referral to the cardiologist. Did lots of reading on HCM. Met with them and they were lovely. Got all his paperwork with his health testing and his whole history and genetics. I fell in love with him immediately. Everything they said about him has been true: he's confident, well-mannered, has the exact same play style as my kitty. There was not a single point during the 4 hour drive home that he showed signs of stress, he took treats and just lounged. When I set him in his room, he waltzed right out of his carrier with his chest puffed out, head held high, and rubbed all over me, purring and bumping his head into me. There hasn't been an adjustment period, he just came out and was like, "sweet, new digs! now, pet me!" Settled into a routine so fast. Has been perfect for his nails and bathing him. We're already making tremendous progress with recall.
This cat is so fucking well socialized. And his structure? Fucking gorgeous. Exactly as sphynx are described, with a deep chest, solid belly, longer hind legs than front, long creepy fingers which he uses to grip me instead of his claws and it feels like a human infant gripping me (deeply unsettling).
It's been such a good experience, and the rescues were so weird, I honestly don't know if I can ever get a cat that wasn't selectively bred again. He's not even pure bred! His dad is 100% sphynx but his mom is a dominant blue eye project from approved sphynx outcrosses.
Don't get me wrong, I love my first bastard kitty, she's the best cat there is. But now I have two perfect cats! I didn't realize that was possible...all my friends' cats, they're often much more nervous and shy. I was prepared for my second kitty to just never live up to my first.
Here he is, my weird coated mostly sphynx:
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Bonus DNA results
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I wonder what that person bit is about.
Unfortunately your story is not unique.
These excessive and unrealistic standards are part of what I mean when I discuss barriers to adoption as being one of the actual issues contributing to overpopulation of homeless pets.
I’ve seen people discuss being rejected due to their age despite being staffed in the veterinary field, the person was in their early 20’s.
I’ve seen people discuss being rejected due to having intact animals in the household despite them being species that aren’t traditionally altered, like reptiles.
A rescue I knew would avoid adopting out to people who indicated they would feed a brand of food the rescue considered to be lower quality, such as Friskies canned.
I’ve spoken to rescues for a veterinary reference who were disappointed the prospective adopters most recent cat wasn’t current on their vaccinations despite being an 18+ hospice case.
I could go on and on and on.
I’m glad you were finally able to find a cat to give a good forever home to, it’s clear that you’re passionate about your animals and knowledgeable about their care.
I would put too much stock in the 12% Persian, you can’t test for breeds in cats the same way as you can in dogs. Wisdom Panel is great for health and trait testing but nonsense for breeds.
You can really see the Devon in his face in the picture you used for the test, though!
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hey-scully-itsme · 1 year
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god help me i'm considering applying for masters programs
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tittyinfinity · 5 months
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everyone wants disabled people to get a job but no one wants to give disabled people the ability to work a job
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e-louise-bates · 7 months
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Kinda funny how I actually enjoyed cataloging when I was working in a library, but now that I'm taking a class on cataloging my brain has started shutting down at the very mention of the word ...
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cyclicalaberration · 8 months
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I need to stand out more
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softgrungeprophet · 11 months
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it's cause i turned on reminders for it and did not turn them off but kickstarter emailing me to remind me about the alex maleev artbook i can't afford is so 😩😭 if it was regular published at least i could say "maybe someday" but kickstarted seems unlikely
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heliophaestus · 1 year
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#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#sorry for like. personalposting on the personal post website i guess but i am going to snap#my laptop is broken. the play is in a week and i feel SO unprepared but even worse i feel like everyone else is too. only three broadcasts#left but i want to do more but that requires having enough time to write and film and edit all the segments i want to (some of which are#kind of not feasible). oh yeah and this one asshole quit the fucking play a day ago. shouldve seen that coming because she was shit talking#it the whole time and not showing up to any rehearsals at all. my bad on that one. calc quiz tomorrow i havent studied for in the least#and an english project which i would LIKE to do but so much other shit is happening it just feels like an extra burden#and lss still has not replied to me about my national lifeguard certification since telling me they hadnt received my sfa#which means i cant hand in the proper documentation for WORK. who has been emailing me nonstop to remind me to get it in#not to mention the general stress of managing a play that can feasibly spur hate crimes bc its about queerness#and i have musicfest on friday. FUCKK i forgot about that i guess im just going to niagara for a day to play songs i still havent fully lea#ned which is gonna be hell since i just got my braces tightened today. also why the fuck does the osap application just have. a full quiz#in the middle of it#ugh at least when the play is over ill have a bit less to worry about. i love it so much but it is taking years off my life#reading this back uhh. yeah hm. ignore most of this im just a bit overwhelmed and have to get it out !!#there is still more to worry about beyond this in terms of upcoming finances and feeling the need to work for money as much as i can since#my dad has been unemployed for half a year now. which means im giving up my summer for the sake of working subminimum wage#it sucks but at least once i figure out more of my payments stuff for next year i can stop tearing my nonexistent hair out over it#okk thats all for now i think. man im tired
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nerdgirlnarrates · 4 months
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Even though it's been months since I switched from neurosurgery to internal medicine, I still have a hard time not being angry about the training culture and particularly the sexism of neurosurgery. It wasn't the whole reason I switched, but truthfully it was a significant part of my decision.
I quickly got worn out by constantly being questioned over my family plans. Within minutes of meeting me, attendings and residents felt comfortable lecturing me on the difficulties of having children as a neurosurgeon. One attending even suggested I should ask my co-residents' permission before getting pregnant so as not to inconvenience them. I do not have children and have never indicated if I plan to have any. Truthfully, I do want children, but I would absolutely have foregone that to be a neurosurgeon. I wanted to be a neurosurgeon more than anything. But I was never asked: it was simply assumed that I would want to be a mother first. Purely because I'm a woman, my ambitions were constantly undermined, assumed to be lesser than those of my male peers. Women must want families, therefore women must be less committed. It was inconceivable that I might put my career first. It was impossible to disprove this assumption: what could I have done to demonstrate my commitment more than what I had already done by leading the interest group, taking a research year, doing a sub-I? My interest in neurosurgery would never be viewed the same way my male peers' was, no matter what I did. I would never be viewed as a neurosurgeon in the same way my male peers would be, because I, first and foremost, would be a mother. It turns out women don't even need to have children to be a mother: it is what you essentially are. You can't be allowed to pursue things that might interfere with your potential motherhood.
Furthermore, you are not trusted to know your own ambitions or what might interfere with your motherhood. I am an adult woman who has gone to medical school: I am well aware of what is required in reproduction, pregnancy, and residency, as much as one can be without experiencing it firsthand. And yet, it was always assumed that I had somehow shown up to a neurosurgery sub-I totally ignorant of the demands of the career and of pregnancy. I needed to be enlightened: always by men, often by childless men. Apparently, it was implausible that I could evaluate the situation on my own and come to a decision. I also couldn't be trusted to know what I wanted: if I said I wanted to be a neurosurgeon more than a mother, I was immediately reassured I could still have a family (an interesting flip from the dire warnings issued not five minutes earlier in the conversation). People could not understand my point, which was that I didn't care. I couldn't mean that, because women are fundamentally mothers. I needed to be guided back to my true role.
Because everyone was so confident in their sexist assumptions that I was less committed, I was not offered the same training, guidance, or opportunities as the men. I didn't have projects thrown my way, I didn't get check-ins or advice on my application process, I didn't get opportunities in the OR that my male peers got, I didn't get taught. I once went two whole days on my sub-I without anyone saying a word to me. I would come to work, avoid the senior resident I was warned hated trainees, figure out which OR to go to on my own, scrub in, watch a surgery in complete silence without even the opportunity to cut a knot, then move to the next surgery. How could I possibly become a surgeon in that environment? And this is all to say nothing of the rape jokes, the advice that the best way for a woman to match is to be as hot as possible, listening to my attending advise the male med students on how to get laid, etc.
At a certain point, it became clear it would be incredibly difficult for me to become a neurosurgeon. I wouldn't get research or leadership opportunities, I wouldn't get teaching or feedback, I wouldn't get mentorship, and I wouldn't get respect. I would have to fight tooth and nail for every single piece of my training, and the prospect was just exhausting. Especially when I also really enjoyed internal medicine, where absolutely none of this was happening and I even had attendings telling me I would be good at it (something that didn't happen in neurosurgery until I quit).
I've been told I should get over this, but I don't know how to. I don't know how to stop being mad about how thoroughly sidelined I was for being female. I don't know how to stop being bitter that my intelligence, commitment, and work ethic meant so much less because I'm a woman. I know I made the right decision to switch to internal medicine, and it probably would have been the right decision even if there weren't all these issues with the culture of neurosurgery, but I'm still so angry about how it happened.
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pennylanewrites · 4 months
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teacher’s aide (levi ackerman)
warnings: m!masturbation, voyerism, alcohol, smoking, age gap (15 years), me pushing my smitten!levi agenda
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levi ackerman was an esteemed and recognised sociology professor. stern, strict and to the point in all of his lectures. most of his classes kept quiet, trying to take notes while he talked fast and went through powerpoint slides like it was the morning paper.
you had been working hard for that teacher’s aide position for two years, when you finally got the acceptance email. it was no secret on campus that professor ackerman’s assistants worked closely to him and got accepted in prestigious firms right after college, with his recommendation of course.
it was also no secret that professor ackerman was incredibly good-looking. his veiny arms and broad shoulders made up for his short height and the way his raven hair fell over his rectangular seeing glasses was so…
“y/n.” his stern voice shook you out of your thoughts. crap. the whole auditorium was staring at you. “the papers.” was all he said before going back to his laptop. you looked down at your hands, realising you were holding the class’s tests for more than you should. you cleared your throat and went through the auditorium, leaving a stack of papers in front of each student. as you walked down, your eye caught his.
levi noticed everything. he noticed how today you were wearing lipgloss instead of your usual lipstick, he noticed the rip in your tights that went down the back of your leg, your new platform loafers and the beads of sweat on your forehead. levi ackerman was not the kind of man that would catch feelings for a student, but you were so…good.
yes, at first he thought you were very attractive, and maybe that’s why he always rejected your aide application. but he also got to know you better every time you replied to one of his questions. you were the only student brave enough to raise their hand, and he appreciated that. sooner than later, you stayed back every day after class to clean up the mess of loose papers and pens, and before he knew it he was smitten.
maybe it was the way you brushed against him to clean the board and shut the projector, a timid apology escaping your lips, or the way you weren’t afraid to challenge him in a theoretical conversation about archaic philosophy during class.
or maybe…shit, how long have i been staring? levi looked away and cleared his throat when he noticed you trying to contain your smile.
class was over and you were going through your usual routine, marking left over questionnaires from the last lecture as he went through tomorrow’s one.
“sir, i’m wondering about…” you rolled your chair across the auditorium’s stage, holding onto his desk to stop the chair, “this one.” you pointed at a question on the paper.
levi was not one to lose his temper, but he was finding it very hard to contain himself when your knee was touching his and your perfume could reach his brain through his nose.
“well, this-this one…” he trailed off, watched you push your hair off your neck, leaving the bare skin on sight for him. god, he could eat you right then and there.
levi had never been more thankful for his phone to ring in his life. the vice dean’s name flashed on the screen, and you leaned back to allow him to get the device.
“i have to go…meeting…come by my office tonight, okay?” he scrambled to get his things and ran off, leaving you in the empty auditorium.
you let your head fall on your pillow, groaning with despair. he hates me. he can’t even talk to me.
you had seen him earlier with petra, his old t.a who graduated last year. he was laughing, for fuck’s sake. he was laughing and buying her coffee in the campus coffee house, and they were sitting over a book and…
“ugh! what is she even doing here?” you threw your pillow on the floor, but it hit you back in the face.
“oh my god, shut up!” your roommate kept hitting you with the pillow, until you grabbed it. “enough, y/n, please.”
“mikasa, do you think they’re dating?” you sat up on the bed, looking at the girl across you. “be honest, i can take it.”
“i think you’re sick. there’s something seriously wrong with you.” she scrunched her nose up in disgust.
“he’s so…”
“old.”
“mature.”
“he’s mature because he’s old.” your roommate kindly reminded you of your age difference. “get over him, please. even if he liked you, he’s your teacher. i doubt he would put his job in danger.”
your eyes lit up, an excited smile covering your earlier gloom.
“you think he likes me?”
“that’s not what i said. where are you going?”
you only grinned before grabbing your bag and barging out of the dorm room. your shoes squeezed against the polished floors as you made your way to the teachers’ wing, and to the third door to your left, your favourite wooden door in the world.
with a sigh, you lifted your fist to knock, but something made you freeze. you looked around to make sure no one was in the corridor, before pushing your ear against the door.
shit, shit, shit, shit
he was moaning. fucking moaning, in his office, when he had specifically told you to visit him. you thought of the possibility of him having a girl in there, even petra, but no one else could be heard. everything right in your head was telling you to turn around and leave, but your hand was on the doorknob, and you were slowly twisting it.
just one look. one look and i’ll-
your eyes grew wide at the sight. a half empty bottle of bourbon sat next to an empty glass, a cigarette was slowly burning on the ashtray, the first two buttons of his white shirt were undone. god, you could clearly see his nipples through the fabric. the desk obscured your vision, but you could see his hand moving up and down, up and down, up-
“fu-fuuuck.” his voice strained, his head fell back and you were wet a creep.
you turned around and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. looking at your reflection on your phone, you made sure pervert wasn’t written across your forehead, and turned back around.
two soft knocks on the door. levi fixed his hair quickly, buttoned his shirt and put the cigarette out.
“come in.” you entered the room and he looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights.
“long day?” you pointed at the bottle, smiling softly. he chuckled and motioned for you to sit down. “i can come back some other…” you trailed off when he took another glass out, filling it halfway and pushing it towards you.
you fidgeted with a ring on your finger, unsure of what to do.
“i shouldn’t…”
“i won’t tell if you won’t.” he filled his own glass and raised it to you, before taking a sip. you smiled softly, taking a sip of the drink. it burned coming down, just like his gray stare on you did.
“i have the tests marked. that question i was wondering about earlier,” you took the stack of papers out of your bag, leaving them in front of the man.
“yeah, i looked it up. it’s actually-”
“i figured it out.” you cut him off. he raised an eyebrow and put his glasses on, looking down at the marked paper, and the right answer which you had wrote down in red ink.
“you did.” he agreed and looked at you through strands of his raven hair. “good girl.”
you froze. you could feel your whole face turning an ugly shade of red. a million disgusting thoughts ran through your head as he walked around the desk to sit on the chair across from yours. his muscles flexed as he reached over the desk to get the ashtray and his drink. you took a big sip of the drink, trying to convince yourself the sexual tension was just in your head.
fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.
“what?” he shook you out of your thoughts. he knew you were staring at him.
“nothing. i’ve never seen you like this.” you admitted, still sipping your drink.
“like what?”
like you don’t have a stick up your ass.
“relaxed.” you opted for the nice comment.
“i’m far from relaxed, trust me.” you watched as he placed a cigarette between his wet lips, lighting it with a white lighter.
“those are bad luck.” you took the lighter in your hand, fidgeting with it.
“huh. maybe that’s why my life’s shit.” he chuckled, taking a drag of the cigarette.
“come on…” your eyes fell on a book on his desk.
masculine domination, pierre bourdieu. you grinned, taking it in your hands to inspect the front page.
“take it. it’s for my doctorate students, but i think you-”
“i’ve read it.” you closed it and put it back on the pile.
“of course you have. you’re a smart girl, you know?”
he was praising you. and he was filling your glass again. when did you even finish the first?
“are you trying to get me drunk, sir?”
“i think you’re capable of controlling yourself.”
“don’t be so sure.” you mumbled, staring at your feet.
“what was that?”
“nothing!” you shook it off with a smile, but he had heard you just fine.
god, you wanted him so bad. as the hours went by, and the bottle came to its’ end, you became more and more impatient. you were scared of what you would do honestly, if one more drop of alcohol entered your system. but, were you crazy to think he wanted this too? why would he pour you a drink, and ask you all these questions, and make you laugh with stupid jokes if he-
“what are you thinking about?” he shook you out of your thoughts. you showed him the clock on the wall.
“that i should get going. some teacher thought it would be a good idea to have an 8 am class.” you grinned. you reached your hand out to return him his lighter, but you dropped it instead.
“that’s one lousy teacher.” he chuckled, kneeling on the floor to get the lighter. you waited for him to get up, so you could too, but he wouldn’t move. still kneeling, he came closer to you, his hands hesitantly moving to rest on the sides of your thighs.
internally, you were screaming. but not a single breath came out of your mouth as you watched him. he sighed and finally locked eyes with you.
“i’m not crazy, am i?”
“wh-what?” your voice came out as a whisper. pathetic.
“to think there’s something, right? here. there’s something here and i-”
“sir-”
“don’t.” he squeezed your thighs and you swore your heart would jump out your chest sooner or later. he straightened his back and got up, pulling you with him. “don’t call me sir.”
you let him seat you on top of his desk, you let him spread your legs and stand between them. he pushed your hair behind your ear and inched closer. his breath against your neck made you shiver, and a soft kiss forced a small gasp out of your mouth.
your hands trembled as you placed them around his neck, and his breath staggered when you played with the strands of hair that fell on his undercut.
“please kiss me.” he swore his knees would give when he heard your voice, so soft, so sweet. you were as needy for him as he was for you.
his strong hands met your face, his silver ring cooled your burning cheek. you closed your eyes, and his lips finally met yours. it was careful at first, both of you scared the other would change their mind. but all it took was you pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt, and he lost his mind. his hands slipped down to your waist and you arched your back to get closer to him, if that was even possible. your mouth trailed to his jaw, leaving sloppy kisses all the way down his neck. a playful bite made him gasp. you chuckled.
“stop. you’ll drive me crazy.” he squeezed your hip.
“good.” you grinned and leaned in to kiss him again, but his hand in your hair held you back.
“you have to go…” he managed between soft kisses down your chest, at least as far as your shirt allowed, “or i won’t be able to stop.” he held your hands, and kissed them both, maintaining eye contact with you.
“then don’t stop.” you whined, but your grin turned into a frown when he pulled you off the desk and fixed your skirt. “levi-”
“save something for later, right?”
his promise of a later was enough. you left him to clean up and walked out the door with a sheepish smile and a whispered goodnight.
your phone buzzed on your way back to the dorms, and you stopped in your tracks when you saw the name on the screen.
professor ackerman: wear that green dress tomorrow.
you raised an eyebrow.
just the dress.
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phantomrose96 · 3 months
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Hey not to go all "tumblr is a professional networking site" on you, but how did you get to work for Microsoft??? I'm a recent grad and I'm being eviscerated out here trying to apply for industry jobs & your liveblogging about your job sounds so much less evil than Data Entry IT Job #43461
This place is basically LinkedIn to me.
I'm gonna start by saying I am so so very sorry you're a recent grad in the year 2024... Tech job market is complete ass right now and it is not just you. I started fulltime in 2018, and for 2018-2022 it was completely normal to see a yearly outflow of people hopping to new jobs and a yearly inflow of new hires. Then sometime around late-spring/early-summer of 2022 Wallstreet sneezed the word "recession" and every tech company simultaneously shit themselves.
Tons of layoffs happened, meaning you're competing not just with new grads but with thousands of experienced workers who got shafted by their company. My org squeaked by with a small amount of layoffs (3 people among ~100), but it also means we have not hired anyone new since mid-2022. And where I used to see maybe 4-8 people yearly leave in order to hop to a new job, I think I've seen 1 person do that in the whole last year and a half.
All this to say it's rough and I can't just say "send applications and believe in yourself :)".
I have done interviews though. (I'm not involved in resume screening though, just the interviews of candidates who made it past the screening phase.) So I have at least some relevant advice, as well as second-hand knowledge from other people I know who've had to hop jobs or get hired recently.
If you have friends already in industry who you feel comfortable asking, reach out to them. Most companies have a recommendation process where a current employee fills out a little form that says "yeah I'd recommend such-and-such for this job." These do seem to carry weight, since it's coming from a trusted internal person and isn't just one of the hundreds of cold-call applications they've received.
A lot of tech companies--whether for truly well-intentioned reasons or to just check a checkbox--are on the lookout for increasing employee diversity. If you happen to have anything like, for example, "member of my college Latino society", it's worth including on your resume among your technical skills and technical projects.
I would add "you're probably gonna have to send a lot of applications" as a bullet point but I'm sure you're already doing that. But here it is as a bullet point anyway.
(This is kind of a guess, since it's part of the resume screening) but if you can dedicate some time to getting at least passingly familiar with popular tech/stacks for the positions you're looking into, try doing that in your free time so you can list it on your resume. Even better if you make a project you can point to. Like if you're aiming for webdev, get familiar with React and probably NodeJS. On top of being comfortable in one of the all-purpose languages like C(++) or Java or Python.
If you get to the interview phase - a company that is good to work for WILL care that you're someone who's good to work with. A tech-genius who's a coworker-hating egotistical snob is a nuisance at best and a liability at worst for companies with even a half-decent culture. When I do interviews, "Is this someone who's a good culture fit?" is as important as the technical skills. You'll want to show you'll be a perfectly pleasant, helpful, collaborative coworker. If the company DOESN'T care about that... bullet dodged.
For the technical questions, I care more about the thought process than I do the right answer, especially for entry-level. If you show a capacity for asking good, insightful clarifying questions, an ability to break down the problem, explain your thought process, and backtrack&alter your approach upon realizing something won't work, that's all more important than just being able to spit out a memorized leetcode answer. (I kinda hate leetcode for this reason, and therefore I only ask homebrewed questions, because I don't want the technical portion to hinge at all on whether someone managed to memorize the first 47 pages of leetcode problems). For a new hire, the most important impression you can give me is that you have a technical grasp and that you're capable of learning. Because a new hire isn't going to be an expert in anything, but they're someone who's capable of learning the ropes.
That's everything I have off the top of my head. Good luck anon. I'm very sorry you were born during a specific range of years that made you a new grad in 2024 and I hope it gets better.
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ms-demeanor · 5 months
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sorry if you've answered this before, and i hope you don't mind me asking, how do you know so much about computers and what seems to me like everything in the world? how did you become so knowledgeable? it's amazing
i just know a little about a lot of things and I probably have a fair number of things that I've dug into more than most people and less than people who actually focus on that stuff! It's kind of an illusion!
I do know a lot about computers and that's because I've worked at a computer company for 12 years and have been deep into a computery subculture for about 20 years - I do genuinely know a lot about consumer computers. That I'll own and that's experience.
I know a fair amount about literature because I've got a degree in it!
I know a fair amount about journalism because I've got most of a degree in it and I worked with journalists for a long time!
I know a fair amount about nutrition because I've got most of a degree in it and because I've been focused on reading a lot about nutrition for more than a decade because of my own food issues!
But mostly I'm just someone who falls down rabbitholes and has a decent ability to recall what I find when I run down them.
Also I get curious about things and will just go. Experience them.
Like at some point i came across a site for people who own and use RealDolls and I got interested in learning more. The site required an application because they didn't want people just trolling so I applied and I ended up reading through the whole site and reading the magazines they sent out for years after because it was just interesting. The way these guys bought clothes or compared repair techniques and cleaning techniques, the way they constructed identities for their dolls - it was all interesting! So now I know about the proper way to store a RealDoll and how their skeletons are put together and the best way to prevent rips or clean inserts.
Now imagine that with everything.
I got interested in quack medicine so I ended up reading the entire back catalogs of quackwatch and science-based medicine.
I got interested in the history of aspartame as a scare-word and I ended up reading a couple of books, SEVERAL entire blogs with decades-long runs, purchasing a military magazine from the 90s, and submitting a FOIA request.
But, like. I don't own a RealDoll or work in that industry. I am not a medical professional. I am not a chemist who works with aspartame. So I get these weird little collections of information where I know what *seems* like a lot to someone who hasn't looked into it but I know a lot less than someone who has taken the time to actually dedicate themselves to that topic.
And sometimes it's a years-long dive and sometimes it's a months-long dive and sometimes it's a few hours of me digging online until I feel satisfied with what I've learned and I never come back to it, but I've got three more talking points than your average joe at a party would.
(Also though I've attended various colleges at various levels for ten-ish years now and I've taken probably more college-level classes on a lot of subjects than most people have because I've now spent several years just kind of kicking around at community colleges and deciding that a cartooning class sounds fun or that a mesoamerican art class fills certain transfer requirements or that I might as well brush up on spanish, french, and german. Access to low-cost college classes in california is a big part of this, and having the time and money to take classes while i'm working is something that I've been very lucky with)
I've also worked pretty much continuously since I was 18, sometimes holding multiple jobs at once, and I know a lot of interesting people who do a lot of interesting things and I ask them about their interesting experiences and if they offer me a chance to go do cool shit with them, like launch a high altitude balloon or blow up some dynamite that's about to expire or join a band, I do it!
I was also one of those kids who had no friends and spent too much time at the library so I'd do things like read through medical textbooks or pull a book of home chemical formulas out of the trash and read it or take it into my head that I was going to read all of Shakespeare before I got to high school so I was a really annoying twelve-year-old and that kind of thing never really let up.
I don't know! I don't think it's that unusual and I think most people do this kind of thing I just happen to have less focus than a lot of people and talk a lot more.
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disaster-theysbian · 11 months
Text
Gotta say, I've been out as a lesbian for 3 years and nonbinary for a year and a half. And I've noticed something.
Just because someone *always* gets your name and pronous correct, and angrily calls out anyone who forgets, doesn't necessarily mean they support you.
Conversely, just because someone struggles to remember your name and pronouns, or can't wrap their head around gender neutral/neo pronouns at all, doesn't necessarily mean they DON'T support you.
This is applicable to any situation really not just queer shit. Watch what people do, not just what they say, and you will find your friends. Someone might shower you with compliments and have common interests with you, but what happens when you tell them no? Do they get angry when they are corrected? Do they have kind things to say about other people?
My colleagues wouldn't know a gender-neutral pronoun if one hit them in the face with a dictionary, but they make sure I've had a lunch break and get home safely. They have my back if I have a difficult patient. They defend me against other staff members who like to create drama and bitch about people as if they're still in the school playground. If someone has something to say about me being a big ol' queer, they make it known that discrimination has no place in our unit.
My best friend in the whole entire world forgets my name and pronouns every day. When the organisers of her therapy group changed "men and women" to "people" and "he/she" to "they" in order to be more inclusive, there was outcry. Everything from the "it just doesn't sound right" grammar-policing nonsense to the "f*cking special snowflakes are offended by everything". She came down on them like a ton of bricks. She said if the organisers hadn't told them that it was changing, that they wouldn't have noticed. She told them they obviously haven't loved someone outside of the gender binary and they were missing out. She then told them how she had seen me grow and develop since I came out, and how in awe she was of the person I had become. No, she doesn't understand it at all, but why should that mean that she can't be there for me and appreciate how happy I am to be able to be me? Why should that mean, because you lot don't understand it, that someone with the same issues as the rest of the therapy group feels unsafe and unwelcome and doesn't get their issues resolved? As a result, a few of them changed their minds, INCLUDING HER OWN FATHER, and the rest at least shut the hell up about it.
ON THE FLIP SIDE...
A queer person who used my correct name and pronouns delighted in making me walk on eggshells, inventing reasons to be angry with me, convinced me I was a terrible person and even went as far as to try and turn me against my own therapist. They tried to tell me that my therapist only said I was a good person because she was paid to, and that because they themselves had a psychology degree that they could tell I had all these complexes and needed to work hard to be a good person, and it was unlikely I'd never get there. (I chose to listen to my therapist and stop being friends with this person).
A queer person who used my correct name and pronouns continued to do things that made me uncomfortable when I asked them to stop. Never said in as many words "you're not allowed to hang out with your friends" but conveniently had an emergency every time I had plans, and accused me of being uncaring if I needed my own space. They knew I had difficulty asking for help, but still got angry with me when I asked because I didn't ask "soon enough".
A queer person who used my correct name and pronouns told me they would look after me and they didnt. .
A queer person threatened to misgender me MORE when I corrected them.
I'm just saying, that if you choose to yeet everyone who doesn't get your name and pronouns right... that doesn't necessarily make you safe. We live in a very binary world. As much as we want that to change, it won't if we ignore or shout at the bits we don't like. (Believe me, I've tried).
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its-time-to-write · 1 year
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Omg I'm loving your response to my prompts!! thank you
I have a few ideas (You don't have to do them all) just throwing them out there to see what sparks ideas!!
I love secret admirer stories (I know its no where close to valentines day but still) maybe Reader is Rebecca's assistant and keeps getting gifts leading up to valentines day but she is pretty sure its like Sam or Isaac and tells friend Jaime (even though its really him) then the day of the grand finale and she comes to the lovely surprise of it being Jaime!
also if you could include Scarlett red roses in it for me (They are my favorite flower and the only flower I'm not allergic to)
So. I liked this one. Maybe too much? It might be the longest one I’ve written so far, so, uh, sorry about that. But I liked it a lot. It might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy. also the gif isn’t Jamie Tartt but it is Phil Dunster so hopefully that’s ok
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honey, i’ll give you all my time
Good god, it’s February all ready. You have a love-hate relationship with the month; love, because Galentine’s Day and hate because Valentine’s Day. You and your friends would go out on February 15th to get discount chocolate from the shops, then return home for an ungodly amount of takeout and a movie. On the whole, you all preferred action movies with a good romance. 
You’re dreading Valentine’s Day because it’s when your boyfriend of two years held your hands in his, and told you he wanted to break up. 
That was a year ago. You’re mostly angry that he’s a dark stain on one of your favorite holidays. You’re absolutely determined not to let him ruin your enjoyment. 
This is also the first year you’re not with your friends. You moved away last March because you realized your ex had been holding you back in far too many ways. 
So. To recap. 
You’re alone. You love Valentine’s Day, despite it forever being the day of your breakup. Your friends aren’t here. You have new friends. There is no one to go to the shops with on the 15th. But discount chocolate is still discount chocolate. 
Your current job is as a personal assistant, something you excel at. You basically anticipate needs, meet them, and just generally make your employer’s life a whole lot easier. The application said the job required a lot of travel, but all expenses (minus some food) were covered. 
You were shocked when you got an interview, then a second, then a third, then were hired. 
Your boss is a woman named Rebecca Welton, and you’re half in love with her, but who isn’t, really?
You swear you’ve never been in such a healthy work environment. You mention it one day, early on, and she says it’s all thanks to their head coach, someone named Ted. 
You meet him for the first time later that day, and you understand. 
It’s impossible not to love him, because he has vision. He knows what he wants from his team, and he knows how to get it. 
He believes the team extends far beyond the players. 
He believes it extends to you, too. 
Ted and Coach Beard steal you from Rebecca as often as they can, claiming emergencies such as “a toxic amount of testosterone from all these boys,” “life-threatening boredom,” and last but not least, “there’s a new pun Ted absolutely needs to test right now and he won’t take no for an answer.”
(You like to give Ted honest feedback on his puns.) 
You also find yourself in their office when Rebecca is out for lunch, eating your respective sandwiches and swapping life stories. 
They remind you a lot of your parents.
It’s mid-June when you mention the Valentine’s Day story. 
It doesn’t hurt as much when it’s punctuated by Ted’s “he didn’ts” and Beard’s perfectly-timed gasps. 
You find yourself laughing halfway through, unable to stop. 
“And anyway,” you finish, cheeks painful from smiling so hard, “that’s why romantic love is a joke and I am drowning myself in platonic love forever.”
Ted and Beard share a look. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Beard says. 
You shoot him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”
“Well sweetheart,” Ted says, “between the two of us collectively,” here points between him and Beard, “we know of at least three of the boys on the team who are madly in love with you.”
“What?” you gasp, “How did you- where did you- who??”
Ted zips his lips and Beard tips a finger to him. “We know of five if we count Rebecca’s intel.”
You’re sitting cross-legged on the edge of Beard’s desk, in shock. “Rebecca knows about this??”
Ted and Beard shrug in unison. “We all have our opinions on which one should shoot their shot, but that’s neither here nor there,” Ted says. 
“Coincidentally, it’s the one thing we unanimously agree on,” Beard nods. 
You’re cut off from saying anything by the door opening. One of the players stands in the doorway. 
“Excuse me, coach,” he says, accent thick. 
Ted motions in a you have the floor type of way, and the footballer turns to address you of all people. “We’re all goin’ out tonight, and Keeley sent me to invite the new girl. None of the lads have really met you yet, just seen you ‘round. Thought it might be good for team bonding, or something. I’m Jamie, by the way.”
“Oh,” you say, taken aback. “I guess- yeah, I guess I haven’t really met them. I mean, I see you guys around and stuff and I’m at your games, but I don’t really know you. Are you sure you want me to come?”
Jamie shrugs. “Coach is always on us about bein’ a team or some shit. And, havin’ a girl around makes the lads look good.”
You think that makes sense, and then find yourself agreeing to go out that night with a group of footballers you don’t know, and (thank god) Keeley Jones. 
You’re going to figure out which five before the summer’s over. 
You have nice time out with the lads. They go to a bar and cram into separate booths. You’re wedged in between two who have introduced themselves as Isaac and Dani, and across from Sam, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas. Roy, Richard, and a few others you don’t know are milling about, and you see Jamie and Keeley at a table, surrounding by giggling girls. The sight is so absurd that you catch yourself smiling and turning back to whatever conspiracy Bumbercatch is telling you about now. 
You put Sam at the top of your list as soon as you get home. The man wears his heart on his sleeve, or maybe in his eyes, but you’re positive that he’s one of the five Ted and Beard referred to. One down, four to go. 
— 
It’s the end of July, and you begin to become friends with the team. You know for an absolute fact who is not interested in you, Jamie being one of them. Coincidentally, he’s the one you become closest to. You think it’s because you’re not worrying about sending mixed signals or leading him on. You dropped public hints about not really looking for anything romantic, just to be sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone. 
As it is, Jan Maas and Dani have made the list. Jan Maas, because he stifled his Dutch bluntness for you and Dani, because he openly declared he was madly in love with you in front of the whole team. 
Isaac makes the list in December. It had been in between him and Bumbercatch, but Isaac was the one who walked you to your car every night and the first one to say hello to you every morning. 
You’re not gonna lie, it was cute. 
You shared some of this with Ted and Beard, who remained impressively stone-faced. Rebecca proved to be equally impervious.
You shared all of it with your lunch-buddy-turned-work-bestie, Jamie. 
You ate with him because Rebecca was constantly in lunch meetings these days, and Ted, Beard, and Roy were always revamping their football strategies.
Jamie would plop down at your table and say, “What’s the news, Amy Hughes?” in his perfect Mancunian accent, and then listen/add commentary to whatever you had to say. 
You explained to him that the reason you wanted to know who liked you was so that you could be extra careful with their hearts. You knew what it was like to be led on, and you did NOT want to do that to someone else. 
Jamie nodded thoughtfully at that and then said, “We’re all footballers though, ain’t we? We get the shit end of the stick all the time, hearts broke by models and whatever. Even ends up in the fucking press. Everyone here’s has their heart broken before, and we all know you aren’t doing it on purpose.”
You wrinkle your nose at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s short end of the stick, Jamie.”
And thus begins your lunch hour of bickering. 
No one has made a move on you yet, and you don’t have a read on number five. You still think it may be Bumbercatch, but in reality, it slips from your mind. Sam’s moved on, Jan Maas has accepted defeat, Dani swears he will love you until the day he dies, and Isaac stays, well, Isaac. Still sweet. Still walking you to your car, coming round extra early in the morning with a coffee or a water, depending on which “looked less like shit.”
Really though, you don’t think about it until February first, when you walk into your office to a small box on your desk. 
At first, you think it’s a box of Ted’s biscuits. 
Then, you notice a small, scarlet-red rose taped to the top. There’s no note, and all that’s inside is a tiny paper heart. 
It’s folded with extreme care, and you place it on your shelf, smelling the rose. It smells amazing and you make a mental note to figure out where the heck it came from. But for now, it’s time to work. 
You don’t mention the gifts until February third, because now there’s been one a day. Each one with a scarlet red rose, and a different gift. Yesterday was an incredibly expensive bar of chocolate (it was life-changing) and today is a tiny gold bracelet.
It’s a simple enough chain, but it is absolutely breathtaking. There is no mistaking the fact that it is not cheap, so you take it and march straight to Rebecca’s office.  
“Rebecca,” you say, hands outstretched, “look.”
She does, smiles, then says, “It appears you have a secret admirer.”
“But I don’t want that!” you cry. “I don’t even have time for that! I don’t even like anybody right now!”
She peers at you over her glasses. “Don’t you?”
The sheer weight of those words is enough to physically knock you back two steps. 
You don’t, you swear you don’t, you’re absolutely sure. 
What about Vienna? a voice in the very back of your head nags.
You reply, out loud, “We don’t talk about Vienna,” and Rebecca just shrugs. 
“Have it your way,” she replies in a tone that means this conversation is over, but you’re the one ending it.
You turn on your heel and find yourself taking the route to Ted and Beard. 
You burst into their office in such a flurry that the entire room turns to look at you. “Close the door,” you say with such urgency, that Trent hurries to comply. Beard even shuts the blinds. 
“What’s on your mind, Ollie Cline?” Ted asks. 
“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. You point to Roy. “Do you want to be here? It involves feelings.”
“Fuck no,” says Roy, “thanks for being fucking considerate.” He follows it up with a pointed glare at Ted, then goes into his office and firmly shuts the door. 
“Can he be here?” Ted asks, tilting his head toward Trent. 
“I don’t care, he’s probably a good one to have around for this because look!” You present the three collected roses and the bracelet. 
“Someone’s started leaving me gifts, and I’m pretty sure it’s a Valentine’s thing because of the roses, and it was fine for the first two days but this is expensive, and I can’t accept this!”
Ted and Beard share a look. You hate it when they do that and leave you out. 
Ted sighs. “Listen, do you think this about Vienna?”
You fix him with a glare. “No. We are not talking about Vienna ever again.”
Trent pipes up, “What’s Vienna?” and you wheel around on him, taking your glare with you. 
“Vienna," you spit, like it’s poisonous, “is a terrible, awful place where people think terrible, awful things. I never want to talk about it again and I never will.”
Trent nods. “Noted.” 
You turn back to Ted and Beard, pleadingly. “What do I do? Tell me what to do.”
Beard gets up and puts his hand on your shoulder. “Kid, if you want my advice, take the damn roses and wear the damn bracelet. These boys make more money than they know how to spend, so just let it go. They all know how you feel about dating, so if someone’s shooting their shot, they know the stakes.”
You shake your head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll let it go.” 
You decide to tell Jamie on day five, because it’s a Friday and you’re dying to get his take. You tell him everything, show him the roses in your office (hanging upside down to dry), and then hand him the notebook that was in today’s box. 
“Jamie,” you say, “this is an expensive notebook. There was a typed note inside that said, ‘for your drawings.’ How did this person even know I like drawing? I never talk about it!”
Jamie looks at you and laughs a little. You’re very flustered for something most people would enjoy. “Dunno, love, but we’ve all seen the sticky notes you leave Coach. That might be it.”
You groan and flop down into your chair. 
“At least tomorrow’s the weekend,” you say.
Jamie’s phone dings at 9:00am on Saturday with a text from you that says, what the actual heck and a picture of a brown bag at your doorstep. Inside is a plastic box of your favorite lemon muffin from a local bakery. He emphasized the image, then waits for your response. 
It was still warm, you write. It was someone who knows where I live and knows what time I leave to get breakfast.
Jamie grins and sends you a shrugging emoji, and you respond with an eye roll and a you’re no fun.
Jamie reads that and privately disagrees. He thinks he’s lots of fun
You’re pretty sure it’s Isaac. After all, he’s the only likely candidate. He’s one of the few who knows where you live and knows your routine. Not in a creepy way, in a we’re-good-friends type of way. You bring this up to Jamie, after personally banning all talk of this with Ted, Beard, and Rebecca. Stupid Vienna. You should never have told them. 
Jamie shrugs for the millionth, infuriating time. He’s been noncommittal this whole time. You’re over here pouring out your heart and soul, considering whether you like Isaac romantically or not, and all he can say is, “I dunno?” 
This is not the Jamie Tartt you’ve become best friends with. 
That Jamie would be down to hunt this secret admirer with you. That Jamie would be helping you figure out if Isaac had a chance with you. That Jamie would be way more engaged than the one sitting in front of you right now. 
But, you suppose maybe that Jamie died in Vienna, so you stop bringing it up.
It’s day ten. Valentine’s Day is in four day, and you’re nervous. 
You’ve decided you don’t like Isaac like that, mainly because it shouldn’t take you that long to decide if you like anyone. There has to be an initial spark, and you shouldn’t try to manufacture it. 
Still, you’re not sure it is Isaac, so you’re not going to say anything about it. The scarlet red roses hang on your office wall, permeating the room with their scent. 
You feel like you’re dying. 
This is a cruel joke and you’re dying. 
The building is basically empty right now. Rebecca and Higgins have some meeting, the team is on the pitch (including Will) and various other staff are somewhere far away from you. So, you jump a little when Trent Crimm comes tripping into your office. 
“Vienna,” he says, no greeting. “If you didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t have told anyone. I’m assuming you do want to talk about it, but you don’t want judgement from the people you love. I’m here to offer my services as a neutral party.”
You look at him. “Trent. You are a journalist. Your whole job is writing down people’s secrets. Why on earth would I talk to you about the worst day of my life?”
Trent shrugs. “I’m good at keeping secrets. This would be off the record. I’ve never lied to people about off the record, also. I consider it bad journalism.”
You consider this for a moment, then sigh. 
“Alright,” you concede. “At least if this gets out, I know whose head I’m shaving in retaliation.”
Trent looks at you in surprise, seeing you in a whole new, slightly threatening light.
“It happened two months ago. It was around Christmas, and I didn’t have anywhere to go…”
Your family all had their own separate plans that Christmas. Plans that didn’t really involve you. Same with your friends. You said something casually to Rebecca, and the next day she told you she had booked you a trip to Vienna. Call it an early Christmas present, she said. It was at the Aumaris Vienna, and it was gorgeous and ridiculously out of your budget, but she said you worked hard and gave her peace-of-mind, and you can’t really put a price on that, can you?
So you went. 
But here’s the thing. 
Someone else didn’t have Christmas plans. 
So when you brought up your trip at your daily lunch, said someone else casually asked, can I come? 
You almost choked on your sandwich. 
Because here’s the other thing.
You were, maybe, kind of, possibly just a little bit head over heels in love with this someone else.
You’re not sure when it happened, really, just that it was probably in August and that it was soul-crushing because you knew for an absolute fact that he did not, and never would, feel the same way. 
You didn’t tell anyone except Keeley, but under the condition that she just let you say it and that she never, ever give you a response to it. Just listen. 
She did, but you were pretty sure she almost combusted. 
But who are you to say no when Jamie Tartt invited himself on your luxurious Christmas vacation saying, I’ll pay extra to get a plane ticket next to you? 
You were doomed from the start. 
To make matters totally and impossibly worse, he couldn’t find another room. 
He had his tickets, but the hotels, he said, were packed. 
It was Christmas, after all. 
So that’s how you ended up in a luxury hotel with Jamie Tartt for a week and a half, one day of which was Christmas. 
You know the, “there was only one bed” trope that everyone thinks is so cute?
It was that, but only if you add deep, shattering heartbreak to it. 
Because every night, you had to listen to Jamie say, “goodnight, love,” and then get into that giant, soft bed as far away from him as you could manage. 
Every morning you woke up to the pillow barricade long gone, one of his arms thrown around you. Or one of your legs on top of his. Or a million different scenarios where you end up literally asleep together, some weird gravity pulling you to each other. 
You were falling so hard and so fast, that you felt like the air was knocked from your lungs when Jamie started talking about the girl he liked. 
“She’s just so fucking beautiful,” he’d say, staring at an Alpine mountain. Or, “Swear she’s the smartest fucking person I’ve ever met,” while traipsing through the city. Or, “Pretty sure she’s ruined me for everyone else,” while getting facials at the hotel spa. 
To be fair, you were the one who teased him into admitting he liked someone. 
You just didn’t expect it to hurt so much. 
The entire trip felt like heaven and hell had simultaneously converged on you, and you never wanted to leave but also desperately counted the days till it was over. 
You came back and broke down in Rebecca’s office. Ted and Beard were there. The whole thing came spilling out, about how you loved the trip so much it felt like your heart would explode but that Jamie loved someone else. 
They all exchanged looks amongst themselves and did their best to comfort you. 
You pulled yourself together and they promised never to say anything to anyone. 
“So that’s Vienna,” you finish. 
Trent is just staring at you, mouth slightly agape. 
He finally says, “My god, that’s fucked,” with such emotion that you decide right then and there that you like Trent Crimm and his rainbow mug. 
Now, you just shrug. “I did it to myself, honestly. That’s why I’m tripping out about this secret admirer thing. And god, Trent, the roses. They’re so beautiful and it’s so romantic, and whoever it is obviously knows me well so there’s a part of me that wants to like this person, but…” you trail off. 
“But there’s a part of you that’s hoping against hope that Jamie’s behind it all,” Trent finishes. 
You let out a little laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”
Trent looks at the roses, then at you. “Maybe you should talk to Jamie,” he says, gently. 
You reply with a forceful, “No,” and then follow up with a small, “That’s what Ted and Rebecca say, too.” 
Trent stands up, shrugs, says with a small smile, “Just a thought,” then he’s out the way he came. 
It is Valentine’s Day. And it’s a Sunday, which means you are legally required to stay in bed until 10, at which point you will get out only to make yourself decent enough to go buy a good cup of coffee and maybe (definitely) something to eat. 
You’ve just finished putting on your shoes, when there’s a knock at the door. 
You take a breath, and get ready to let down your secret admirer as gently as possible. 
You swing open the door to reveal- 
“Jamie! What are you doing here?”
Jamie Tartt is on your doorstep, hands behind his back, looking shyer than the day you first met. 
He opens his mouth and says the last thing you’d ever expect:
“D’you remember Vienna?”
Your heart, which had already been going fast because his dumb floppy hair was all dumb and floppy in his stupid, cute headband, is now working double time. You manage a nod. 
Jamie takes this as permission to continue. “D’you remember how I couldn’t get another room, no matter how hard I tried? That wasn’t true. I could’ve.” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue. 
“And d’you remember when we met, when I told you Keeley told me to invite you out? That was a lie too.”
You tilt your head, confused. He keeps going. 
“Look- I fucked it. I fucked it a million times and I told Ted and I told Beard, but they kept helping me un-fuck it and giving me chances, and then Rebecca bought two tickets to Vienna and slipped me the other one, and they all told me I had a perfect shot.” 
You’re still not understanding what he’s saying. He might as well be speaking another language. Jamie sees the confusion in your eyes, takes a breath, and tries again. 
“Keeley told me to invite you out, but only because I’d seen you around and thought you were fit. Then Isaac and all the lads thought the same thing, so I didn’t even get to fuckin’ sit with you. And then you started sayin’ things about not bein’ ready for a relationship, so I tried to let it go. I really fucking tried. But I just couldn’t. Your eyes are too sparkly and your laugh is too fucking cute and I couldn’t let it go, so I started eating lunch with you and you fucking let me. I knew the moment I said anything about liking you, it was over.”
Comprehension has started to dawn, but you push down hope until Jamie’s done speaking. 
“Everyone told me to shoot my shot in Vienna. We shared a bed, for fuck’s sake.” Here, Jamie looks bewildered. “But I dunno, I didn’t want to make shit weird. So when you asked if I liked anyone I said yeah, and started fuckin describing you, but you never fucking picked up on it. That’s when I got the idea to try one more time. All by meself, no help from anyone else. So…yeah.”
Jamie Tartt is standing on your porch confessing his love for you on Valentine’s Day and it is not a dream, because if it were your teeth would be falling out and his hair would probably be neon pink. 
“I’m an idiot,” you breathe. “You like me? Like, like-like me?”
Jamie quirks a smile at that. “Not quite, darling. Pretty fucking sure I love you.” He pulls his hand from behind his back to reveal a bunch of scarlet red roses. The same from each gift. 
“Got these for you,” he says. “D’you know how hard it is to get red roses in February?”
You don’t answer him because you’re leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve thought about doing every day for what feels like forever. He’s kissing you back, hand with the flowers pressed against your back, other hand in your hair. 
“I love you too, Jamie,” you whisper against his mouth. He smiles and pulls you in again. 
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thewriterg · 11 months
Text
𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭
pairing(s): earth 42! Miles Morales x fem!reader, Miles Morales x poc!reader
summary: Overworked and burnt out was an understatement everything was going so well with your internship until you were forced with schedule you could barely handle and Miles is there to take pressure off your shoulders
word count: 1.1k+
request: hi! if requests are open can i pls get one w earth 42 miles who he’s comforting after a long shift they had??
warning(s): Miles is about 18 senior in this, rusty spanish, reader is ready to drop dead, mentions of blood work, child labor?, pet names, kisses, and language
A/n:—GIFs; @lekeyeh24 & @jthmstims—
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You stood outside the door of your apartment taking your badge and putting it against the door when you didn’t hear the usual ‘click’ you did it once more the line of thin rope it was on from the retractable keychain until you finally noticed you were home
It was very rare to get the internship you got as high schooler you’d been hoping for since your freshman year and when you application got accepted to work in a phlebotomy lab to get your CPT and make very decent money to be a senior you along with everyone who knew you personally was ecstatic
Your mom and dad had threw a celebration party on your rooftop inviting a few good friends, family members, and of course Rio and Miles the boy couldn’t be more proud of you showing you with more than enough gifts to last you until holiday season
The sudden urge to bash your head against the door was very prominent as you realized you were home and not at the lab as you fished through one of your many unnecessarily full bags to grab your keys unlocking your door one of the biggest gifts Miles gifted you had been the apartment he saw you looking at over your shoulder one day switching between the housing app and your Pinterest board for home inspiration
You deemed the second biggest gift both of your parents allowing you to move in together as high school seniors even if you were legally adults
But thankfully Rio and your parents agreed after much pleading and convincing that it would be a good thing for the both of you and the start of your adulthood even if they threatened you with everything under the sun if you made them grandparents
As you entered your home Miles was up from his position on the couch taking your bags from your hands and arms scolding you as he shut the door from behind you with a grunt
“¿Por qué no me llamaste? Te hubiera ayudado. Give me these” You would gladly let him knock himself out as you took off your work shoes which were just an older pair of Jordans beside the door not having enough energy to put them on the rack before going to sit down on your couch you just needed to sit for a few minutes
You suddenly were aware that your scrubs were on your brand new couch causing you to groan before you put your head in your hands screaming at yourself internally to disinfect the whole thing when you were to get up
“What’s wrong mi vida? Nah uh uh, we’re not doing that, what’s wrong with my baby?” He crouched in front of you now his hands were on your arms his braids falling to his shoulders dismissing the excuse as you hit him with the ‘nothings wrong’
“Its just hard handling school and work and then the family is still up on me about the move and making sure I finish school I’m just ready to quit” Miles knew you weren’t just talking about your new job or school he’d liked to think of himself as a bit brighter than that as he rubbed his hands up and down your arms
“This is our last year, I know you’re gonna finish out strong ‘cause that’s just you. You’ll complain and whine ‘bout it but I know you’ll find a solution to… accommodate everything. Eres súper mujer mami” Miles stated carefully trying his hardest to not come of too insensitive never taking his hands off you before you finally uncovered your face he was quick to wipe under your eye before a tear could escape it muttering something below his breath that you barely caught
“Too pretty to be cryin’ over this shit”
“And tell them to lay off you ‘fore I have to come up there and kick somebody ass” That caused a chuckle to slip past your lips while Miles face broke into a beginning of a small smile
“Go get in the shower aight’? I got the rest.” You sighed before coming to a stand Miles did the same giving you space to move around the half decorated unfinished living room giving you creative freedom to do whatever the hell it was you wanted to the apartment with a simple ‘you do you princesa’
The toffee skinned boy began to order takeout over his phone as you walked further into your home not wanting to worry yourself with cooking anything for the either of you making sure to add a little extra of everything when he heard the water turn on he grabbed his car keys out of the bowl that sat by the door on the decorative table before slipping out the house into the streets of New York
💌💌💌💌
Miles wasn’t the least bit of surprised when he heard the water still running as he returned to your home he made the run as a quick as he could in New York traffic one hand full with two Chinese takeout bags and another with some of your favorite flowers trying to make sure not to crush them as entered through the door
He sat down the flowers on the dining room table before unloading all of the food from the bags and sitting it on one of the trays you had got on a trip to the thrift store and when he questioned what the hell the wooden mini trays were for he was in for an ear full that summed up one statement
“When we’re not eating at the table nobody’s fucking up my couch”
“Oh Miles” Fifteen minutes later you we’re finally out the shower treading back to the living room before you were stopped in awe looking around your living room some of the candles that were placed in various places were now lit, there was food on the table, Corpse Bride one of your favorite movies was paused at the beginning on the Tv, and your boyfriend stood presenting flowers in his hand to you
Without another word you pressed a kiss to his plump lips before engulfing him which he returned with a small chuckle pressing a kiss to your forehead
“Haré cualquier cosa por ti eres mi mundo lo sabes” He pressed one more kiss to your hairline before he urged you to sit making a mental note to put the flowers in a vase as you both made your way to your couch you picked up one of to go boxed along with a pair of chopsticks that Miles didn’t know how the hell you ate with before playing the movie
A little while later You looked up to see the boy beginning to massage your legs and feet as you went to protest about him needing to eat he brushed you off shushing you
“Let me take care of you mami” And so you did
💌💌💌💌
short and sweet domestic earth 42 Miles because I said so 🙀
I’ve deleted like 90% of request from my request from my request inbox
I just need a little creative freedom right now
you’re still welcome to request because I will get to it eventually just not as fast 😊
stay safe writers!
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confusedemiposts · 6 months
Note
Hi! How are you?? I hope you are okay! Are you still taking requests? If you are, I have a request: What if s/o is Oda Sakunosuke's little sister/brother and s/o REALLY looks like Odasaku(Oda Sakunosuke) Their hair colour, eye colour is the same as his And s/o joins to Agency. What would ADA would do? If you aren't taking requests, you can ignore this! But if you are taking requests and if you do this, it would make my day! Thank you!!
I'm on the floor I loved this! I hope you don't mind I did a small drabble for the whole agency as one at the start but only went into details with characters that knew Oda and added Ango. I didn't know what s/o was till half way so this could be seen as platonic or romantic. I hope you liked it and feel free to tell me if there's anything I'm missing
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Familiar Faces 𓇢𓆸
Includes: Fukazawa (platonic), Ranpo, Ango, Dazai x Oda's younger sibling
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort
Notes: Dark Era and season four spoilers!!! Slight Beast! mention but no spoilers (Fukazawa), Probably oc, not proofread, bad grammar, gn reader, reader is unaware that Oda was in the mafia, reader is implied to be over 18
Format: Headcannons/ Drabbles
Summary: Being Oda's younger sibling
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The Agency
You suprisingly grew up a very normal life thanks to your older brother. You knew he had a dangerous job and admired him greatly, after all who wouldn't? He took in orphans and visited them daily, bringing you along too. It became your whole life.
The day everything changed left an indescribable ache in your chest, like a piece of your world vanishing, leaving behind a void filled with quiet memories. You had just finished up school that year but your whole life was gone, everything you had was gone and you didn't even know why. It took you a few years till you decided to use your abilities for good and find out what happened.
You ended up joining a detective agency filled with ability users who are all very helpful and kind. It felt so welcoming that you genuinely enjoyed working here..but however, you couldn't help but notice three who looked at you with a certain, almost sad familiarity—as if they knew you. You hadn't met them before but they knew you- or at least some part of you that you didn't know how, they knew him. It's unnerving because how do they know?
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Fukazawa Yukichi
He'd recognise you immediately
Well at least who you're related too
He only met Oda once as a teenager
I don't think he met him again so I doubt he knows what happened (tell me if I'm wrong)
Might've heard that he wasn't an active assassin anymore
Definitely on guard when he meet you
Like a relative of a former assassin willing applying to be a detective?
But you were different
He could see it in your eyes that were full of emotions,loss and compassion
Unlike those eyes he saw years ago
You have never killed
It was a bit unsettling though
He needed to know of your intentions
He glanced at you and then back at the application form. He knew he recognised that name, he knew that tinge of red hair and those empty brown eyes that mirrored the features of that boy—an exact replica. To him it made sense to have this interview in the cafe instead of his office.
But the eyes he was looking into were different this time; instead of being void of any emotion it glinted with loss and nervousness. This was an interview, of course you were nervous as the older man continued to keep silent, you felt like he was judging your very soul but in reality he was wondering something else.
Finally he puts the sheets down and clears his throat "What motivated you to apply for this job?". He was curious, you were undoubtedly related to the assassin so why are you applying to be a detective? What were your intentions?
Trying to calm your nerves, you took a deep breath. "I want to do good. I want to help people, like my brother."
He didn't react, but it was evident he was waiting for further explanation, especially regarding the mention of your brother. The silence hung in the air, prompting you to delve into the details.
Hearing your explanation of Oda surprised him
He didn't know any of this (I think)
To know that kid changed into a caring young man and raised his sibling and the orphans
Those eyes that were once lifeless, with no care for his life or anything, had changed
Said he must've been a good man
I think Fukazawa would've tooken Oda in like Ranpo back then :( maybe that's what happened in beast
He gave his his condolences when he found out he died
The waitress in the café came and asked if you two were ordering
Fukazawa ordered something small
You ordered a curry, spicy specifically you said
Fukazawa officially hired you when you passed your entrance exam
He knew you were a good person
I'd like to think later on he might tell you that he met Oda when he was a teen
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Edogawa Ranpo
He met Oda twice
First as teens
And last in passing as adults
He tried to stop him :(
When he first met you he instantly knew you were related
He also knew that you were trying to find out how everything happened
I don't think he'd tell you at first for your sake
But as you get closer as friends maybe he would
Somewhat guiding you into figuring it out yourself
Ranpo doesn't act like it but I think he cares
You're having a bad day and about to snap?
You find a sweet you don't remember putting in your pocket
It's very small acts but it comforts you
Alone at your desk, with everyone gone home , and you asked if you could stay over a little to longer to finish something you'd been working on for months– finding out what happened that day.
Coming home from school, you headed to the curry place where you and your older brother always ate, where the orphans were cared for. Instead, you found chaos – police, bystanders, and a devastating revelation from an officer.
Devastated, you waited in grief for your brother, only to discover he was gone too. Everything you knew and loved vanished, leaving you desperate for answers.
You've been building up this personal case for months, you weren't that suprised to find out Oda was a mafiaso and former assassin but god still not knowing why everything happened still gnaws at you, Your world was taken, and the lack of understanding weighs heavily on your chest.
You groan and slump against the desk, the frustration of not knowing amplifying the ache in your chest. You felt like you were getting nowhere.
You felt a tug on your shirt and you lift your head up startled to see Ranpo leaning behind you. He doesn't bother asking why you're still here because he already knows but when you're about to ask him the same question he shushes you with his finger and pulls out a bag of sweets "I left these behind". That's a lie- unless he really wanted these specific sweets that he so happened to leave behind.
He pulls up a chair beside you, the wheels squeaking from only slight movement and plopping himself down.
Silently he offers the bag of sweets, you presume he wants you to open it and you do, going back to your papers after but he offers you the now open bag again, a silent invitation to take one.
You mutter a quiet thank you and take a sweet. It's silent as you both eat the sweets but it's a comfortable silence.
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Osamu Dazai
Oh my god
I can't
You knew Dazai back when Oda was alive
When he came to the house or orphans
I'd say you got along
Oda definitely told Dazai to refrain from mentioning the mafia to you
And he kept to that no matter how many times you asked Dazai about how he knew your brother or what his job was
You were probably somewhat friends :(
Didn't see each other for four years until you joined the agency
At first you didn't recognise him
He's wearing less bandages
But he certainly recognised you
An exact image of your brother
I feel like there's two ways this could go
1. He completely ignores, distancing himself from you
2. He's completely all over, absolutely protective of you and making sure your okay at all times
I think it be both
You found that everyone was quite welcoming at the agency and you got along with everyone... although there was one who always avoided you no matter what.
And that was Osamu Dazai.
The moment you stepped into the office his heart dropped as if he seen a ghost, his facade halting only for a moment before he picked up his usual demeanor again. Quietly slipping away before you see him
He'd be stupid to think you wouldn't recognise him but he ignored you anyways. Oh you're coming back from a case? Where did Dazai go? He suddenly vanished (sarcasm). You try to approach him? He is sprinting the other way.
He cannot look at you at all without thinking about Oda, he will not let you close to him again because everything he never wants to lose is always lost and he doesn't want to lose you too.
He is trying to distant himself from you, he doesn't want you to get hurt, he wants you to be safe, he wants you to live the normal life that Oda tried to give you, he wants you- your gaze, your words, your touch-and it scares him, everything worth wanting is lost the moment he obtains it, that is the life of Osamu Dazai.
Though he ignores you directly, he watches over you through other means, making sure in any plans your safety is first, that your teamed up with someone dependable and your getting home safe after work.
But Dazai can't run away from ghost's forever, not when that ghost is at arms length. He always manages to slip away when you try to even speak to him but not this time- you got him cornered, he has no choice but to see his past once again.
I don't know how to write confrontation so just wheater you argued or broke down crying
He will realise he can't keep you away
Perhaps he'll let you close again
But not too close
He knows very well that you see his facade
Being with you he doesn't have to keep his bubbly mask on
You'd both sit silently together by Oda's grave
The silence is not deafening with you, it's calm, a silent mutual understanding between you
He would definitely have nightmares of losing you too
Too the point I don't think he'd leave your side
Constantly hovering around you, partnering up with you everytime so he knows your safe, knocking at your dorm in the dead of night because of a nightmare
It's silly he thinks but still it worries him deep down, after all he is human
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Ango Sakaguchi
I know he's not part of the agency
But I think he helped you get into it
I think Ango would've taken care of you:(
Not directly but from afar
He'd feel too guilty
Finding out that you were looking for a job involving where you could get hurt he immediately directed you to the Agency
Partially because of Dazai
He knew he would watch over you no matter what
And you'd have each other :(
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I said I wasn't going to get started on the topic of Aveline ruining Carver's chances with the guard but I lied okay, it's Carver Hawke defense hours.
Here's the thing; it doesn't matter if you believe Carver was or wasn't fit for the guard. That's a different debate that I'll get to. What matters is Aveline's in no position to tell the guard not to accept his application. Why does she think that's her right to judge whether or not he's fit?
Carver should've had the chance to prove himself one way or another. If it turns out he's not a good fit, then let him fail. Let him learn from it.
"Oh but failure could mean lost lives-"
Aveline doesn't get to talk shit about failure and the people. Plenty have died on her watch yet she still believes she's a good guard and Guard-Captain.
"maybe Aveline's protecting him, Carver could die while on patrol-"
Carver could die working in the Bone Pit, or serving as a templar, or when he's running around with Hawke. Carver could trip and fall down a set of stairs and die. In fact, he can die in the Deep Roads, somewhere he wouldn't have to go if the Hawke's weren't desperate.
Either Carver fails as a guard, or more likely, he succeeds and proves himself worthy of it.
But let's be real, Carver probably kept getting rejected due to being a Fereldan with a past of smuggling/mercenary work and Aveline only reaffirmed the decision, either because they asked her what she thought or she stuck her nose in unprompted.
But what irritates me is that she admits to telling them not to accept his application, and then has the balls to call Carver too proud to take up a trade or find another line of work.
Carver tells her, "And who would take on a Fereldan apprentice? Maybe in another year I could work my way up to pissboy." He has a good point here. Aside from the guard, the only other place Carver could work and use his skillset is with the Templars. Or go back to mercenary/smuggling work.
And Aveline doesn't even have a real answer for him. No suggestions, no encouragement, nothing. Just "Fine, let's crawl down some holes. Good bloody luck for your sake."
Also, if you do the Mark of the Assassin DLC in Act 1-
Aveline: You should see if any of the noblemen are looking for new men-at-arms. Carver: Are you trying to get rid of me? Aveline: It's a role with some autonomy. A good fit with your training and... tendencies. Carver: After serving King Cailan? You want me to suffer some poncy git who needs two servants to wipe his own ass? I'll find my own way, thanks. Aveline: I wish you would.
You wish he would?? Aveline, he was trying to find his way into the guard, a position he'd make a good fit for, and you helped deny him of it because YOU didn't think he would be good enough, I just-
If I haven't made it clear yet, I firmly believe that Carver would've made a great guard. He wants to help people, to be a protector. He's loyal, and despite what Aveline claims, he can follow orders and take his duty seriously. We see him do incredibly well with the Grey Wardens, after all. If he were a guard, he wouldn't have to go down into the Deep Roads with Hawke, and I think he would've been okay with that! He's so hurt and bitter when you leave him behind because that effectively tells him, "I don't need you." Carver's spent the whole first act telling you he wants to go on the expedition aka that he wants to be needed.
But if he were a guard, he would be needed elsewhere. He'd be in training as a recruit. He'd look after Leandra while you go. He wouldn't be backed into a corner with no income and only the templars left as his chance at forging his own path and providing for his family.
He doesn't get that opportunity, though.
By the way, if he becomes a warden, you can get this banter:
Aveline: I'm glad you found a place with the Wardens. Carver: Well, it's not the city guard, but it'll do. Aveline: Carver... it wasn't the place for you. Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I? Aveline: Well...
This banter makes me want to scream.
Aveline's just... she's so insistent that she's right. She's someone who will double down rather than entertain the idea that she's wrong and it's not just with Carver and the guard, it's with everything. The "my beef with Aveline" list gets longer and longer every time I replay da2, I swear.
Say what you will about Carver, whether you think he would've been a good fit or if Aveline's right and it wasn't for him, he was denied a chance and it cost him so much in the end. He either dies, or he joins the templars where he deals with Chantry's bullshit trying to brainwash him with "mages aren't people" and "magic is a cancer in this world", or he's infected with the blight and becomes a Grey Warden, forced to serve the rest of his life fighting darkspawn, tormented by voices and nightmares.
I will never not be bitter about this.
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