#I was offered this retail job and I desperately need money and my parents are saying to take it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silverlightqueen · 4 years ago

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Blood Lust

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

vampire!hyunjin x human!reader - smutty smut smut lmao, fluff, a little bit of angst ig, fwb type vibe except the benefits include Hyunjin feeding on y/n lol

Word Count: 10.4k+ (I got carried away, I’m sorry lmao)

Summary - Having a part time job whilst at university is standard, right? Babysitting, bartending, retail, hospitality? Well, y/n’s job is a little… different. Or maybe a lot different. Depends on whether you find being a hot vampire’s personal blood bag weird or not.

Warnings: biting, blood, blood consumption, unrequited love, possessiveness, toxicity in a not-relationship, unprotected sex, intercourse, rough sex and softish sex, softdom!hyunjin x sub!reader, very brief sub!hyunjin, very explicit dirty talk, asphyxiation, slight body worship, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), hair pulling, teasing, mouth fucking, begging, praise, hickeys, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, lots of soft aftercare, sexual and non-sexual nudity, I think that’s it but please let me know if you notice that I missed something!

a/n: and here is the fourth (and my favourite) instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I had so much fun writing this absolute filth and I hope you guys enjoy reading it! thank you @silverlightprincess for proofreading, I love you! please be sure to check out the previous parts and keep an eye out for the next parts x

taglist: @kodzu-ken @cloudsgathering @silverlightprincess

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‘Took you long enough,’ Hyunjin says when I answer the door, and I give him an apologetic smile, making my eyes wide the way he can never resist, and I can see him fighting to keep the smile off his face. ‘Sorry. I was just… doing something,’ I say as I move aside to let him in, and he raises an eyebrow, slipping off his shoes. ‘Doing what?’ he asks, suspicious, and I avoid his gaze, locking the door after him. ‘I… um-’ ‘Let me guess. You forgot to have your iron supplements and remembered when I knocked on the door?’ he asks dryly, and I give him a weak smile, making him let out an annoyed huff.

‘y/n, I’m hungry. It’s been over a week,’ he complains, and I roll my eyes, trying to hide how endeared I always get at his complaining – he might be a big bad vampire to his clan, but he’s just a whiny little baby when he’s with me. ‘I’m sorry, Jinnie. It’s hard to remember, because I never used to take them,’ I say in my softest voice, knowing he won’t stay annoyed at me, and he just sighs, heading into the living room of my apartment. ‘And you used to wonder why you fainted all the time,’ he says exasperatedly, throwing himself down on my sofa.

When I first started at university, I was – to put it simply – broke as hell. My student loan funded my school supplies and my travel costs, and the money I earned working at my uncle’s restaurant paid for my driving lessons. I had no spare income to spend on anything else – I was still living with my parents, so I wasn’t homeless or hungry or anything. But I had no money for clothes, or nights out, or… anything other than the basic necessities.

When it got to the start of second year, and my uncle had to close his restaurant because he was getting a few customers a night if he was lucky (at every family gathering, he gets drunk and rambles about how Uber Eats murdered his business), I was desperate; I couldn’t pay for my driving lessons anymore, and I was having to buy a lot more supplies for school. One of my friends, Yeji, knew that I was struggling with money, and decided to confide in me about an arrangement she had with a friend of hers.

Her friend, Chan, was the leader of a vampire clan, she’d told me, and she was his blood donor. They’d meet a couple times a week, and he’d feed on her and pay her for it. I was fascinated – I knew vampires existed, but I never knew one personally, or knew anyone that knew one either, so to hear about Yeji’s arrangement astounded me. According to Yeji, vampires tend to drink from blood bags rather than from humans these days, but they still prefer blood from the source. So when Chan had offhandedly mentioned to Yeji that he was looking for a blood donor, she asked how much he was willing to pay. When she heard, she instantly offered to be his donor, knowing that that much money per feed would fund the rest of her university life after just a couple weeks.

I’d had so many questions for her. When I asked if it hurt, she told me the initial puncture felt a little like an injection, and then after that, she wouldn’t really feel anything other than it being a little uncomfortable to hold her neck at such an awkward angle. It would leave her feeling drowsy and weak, but Chan would feed her a little of his blood, just to strengthen her, and she would feel back to herself within no time. The two little scars on her neck would take a while to fade, but she said they were easy enough to cover up with makeup. I’d heard that being fed on was pleasurable, and almost sexual, but when I mentioned that to Yeji, she grimaced and said that it wasn’t at all like that. For her and Chan, it was a business transaction between good friends, and nothing more.

I was intrigued, to say the least, and I’d gone home that night thinking about the possibility of becoming a blood donor to a vampire. The next day, Yeji had run up to me excitedly, to tell me that one of Chan’s clan members was looking for a donor. Only a week later, I was waiting to meet him at a coffee shop, as though it was a blind date. I felt so nervous, worried that he’d take one look at me and walk straight back out. But the second he walked in and his eyes met mine, my heart stopped.

He was adorable, painfully so – with his soft brown hair falling over his cute glasses, and his light academia boyfriend aesthetic. He looked around my own age, but Yeji had told me that he was, in fact, 318 years old at the time (we celebrated his 320th birthday just a few months ago). He sat down with a shy smile, and I was lost for words. He had none of the pale skin or brooding moody looks or all black outfits – he was quite tanned with a friendly face and dressed in soft neutrals. I couldn’t believe that this harmless looking soft boy was a blood-sucking vampire. There was no way.

He bought us a coffee each, and bought me a caramel shortbread because, he told me shyly, it looked as sweet as me. We spoke for hours, our conversation quickly changing from generic and awkward, to comfortable and deep. I explained how difficult it was to fund life at university without putting pressure on my low-income parents to support me, and he explained his life as a vampire. We left the coffee shop at closing time, Hyunjin insisting on walking me home, and we parted with the decision that I would become his blood donor.

We met again, only a week later, with the same shy smiles and slightly awkward conversation. This time, I’d gone to the house that he shared with some of the clan members, but nobody else was at home. It was just us. We’d slowly worked up to it, and when Hyunjin was stood before me, neck bent so that his mouth brushed against the skin of my throat, I felt relaxed and prepared due to his gentle comforting and support. I tried my hardest not to tense when I felt his fangs puncture my skin, wincing a little at the sharp pain, but before I had time to get used to the feeling of someone drinking my blood, Hyunjin had pulled away, coughing up all my blood over his hoodie.

‘What’s the matter? Are you okay?’ I’d asked, and Hyunjin had wiped at his mouth, face twisted in disgust. ‘y/n, I’m really sorry, but your blood is… gross,’ he’d said bluntly, still coughing between each word. This had hurt more than you’d expect – somehow, it’s not a nice feeling to hear that a vampire finds your blood disgusting enough to cough it all back up. ‘Oh. I’m really sorry,’ I’d said, feeling humiliated, and Hyunjin had waved his hand in the air, swigging down some water. ‘No, don’t apologise. I just… I was just surprised. Do you not know you’re anaemic?’ he’d asked, and I’d blinked at him in surprise. ‘Anaemic?’ I’d echoed, and he’d nodded, an amused smile playing at his lips. ‘Your blood has, like, no iron in it. Drinking your blood was like… drinking bitter coffee. Just how you’d add milk and sugar to coffee, your blood needs iron.’

He’d left me in his room whilst he went to get me some iron supplements, and I’d eaten two of the gummy vitamins when he’d handed them to me. We’d waited for half an hour, and then we’d tried it again, sat on his bed this time. His fangs slid into the two little holes they’d made earlier, not as painful this time around, and he didn’t pull away this time either, instead pulling me closer with his strong arms. It was a weird sensation, not a… nasty one, but just weird. With each hungry gulp he took, I’d felt myself getting drowsier and drowsier, head becoming light, and my eyes slid shut after around thirty seconds.

I’d felt Hyunjin pull away only a few moments after that, and he’d shook me lightly, just to keep me awake. ‘Let me feed you some of my blood,’ he’d murmured gently, lifting his wrist to his mouth and piercing the skin. He’d held his wrist to my mouth then, and I’d gently sucked at his skin, tasting the metallic tang of his blood on my tongue. Seconds later, I felt wide awake, like nothing had happened at all.

For the next year, I went to his house twice a week for a few hours at a time. We’d usually watch a film or play a video game or just sit on our phones together in his room, when he wasn’t drinking my blood, of course. It didn’t take me long to realise he wasn’t exactly the shy soft boy I met that first day. Don’t get me wrong – he was still a little quiet sometimes, awkward and clumsy, a total scaredy cat, and he’d be shy around new people. But after a few weeks, once he was much more comfortable around me, different elements of his personality came out too. He was flirty and bratty and sassy and he could be a total whore – he loved his loose comfy clothes, but he also loved his tighter-than-skin jeans and slightly see-through shirts, leather and silk and expensive cotton blends, in black and navy tones. But he was also sensitive and emotional, thoughtful and sweet. It was soon obvious to me that he was multi-dimensional as a person, complex with so many levels, and I’d wanted nothing more than to get to know them all.

I met the majority of his clan members over that time, and they were all just as nice as Hyunjin. I spent a lot of time with them, because Yeji and our friends were friends with them too. We went to parties together, had a lot of movie nights or ordered takeout together at their clan house, meaning I spent more time with Hyunjin than I did with anyone else, which did nothing for my hopeless crush on him. But I didn’t mind that my attraction to him wasn’t reciprocated because we were slowly becoming best friends.

He was always so careful with me, so gentle, like I was an antique vase or a fine china teacup. He’d hold me close to him with a firm grip, and he’d take slow and steady gulps, never making more than two punctures in my skin when he fed on me. He would never have us sitting in one position for too long or feed on me for more than two minutes at a time – when he was particularly hungry, he’d feed on me three or four times in one sitting, but only for two minutes at a time. When he’d pull away, there was never any blood around his mouth like you see in the films, and no blood staining my neck either. He was clean and careful, always cautious of hurting me, and I was so grateful for that. Sometimes I’d run into Yeji at the house, after Chan had fed on her, and every now and then, she’d have blood all over her neck and shoulder or her clothes and hair would be a mess from Chan losing his composure and being a little rougher with her than usual. I would thank God each time, so lucky that Hyunjin treated me like a fragile doll.

After a year, I’d made enough money from being his donor – or, as Jisung loved to call me, Hyunjin’s personal blood bag – that I could put a deposit down on an apartment. I’d told my parents that I was working as an assistant at an accountancy firm when I didn’t have any lectures or seminars at university, which is why I was making so much money, and that Hyunjin was the only co-worker my own age, which is why I was with him so much. I moved into an apartment block around ten minutes from the clan house, on the same floor as Chaeryeong, and Hyunjin helped me move in. A couple of the other clan boys chipped in too so that, and I quote, ‘you have to let us stay with you when we want a break from the clan’.

Only a month after living at the apartment, I’d woken up in the middle of the night to someone hammering at the door. I’d jumped out of bed, dressed in just a little vest and satin shorts, arms and legs bare, stepping into my slippers as I rushed to the door. I’d had my phone in my hand and had typed in the number for the emergency services, ready to phone them if this was someone trying to rob me, and I’d opened the door carefully. Before I could even process what was going on, Hyunjin had burst in and thrown himself at me, pulling me into his arms and burying his head in my neck, my legs instinctually wrapping around his waist to keep myself steady.

‘Jin, are you oka-’ ‘I’m really fucking drunk, and all I could think about was you, and how hot you are, and how fucking amazing your blood is, and how much I wanna drain you dry, so I ditched the boys because I missed you too fucking much,’ he’d growled in my ear, making my eyes widen in shock and my underwear dampen embarrassingly quickly. He’d chuckled, taking a deep breath, before whispering, ‘judging by the sweet smell coming from your pussy, doll, I think you like the sound of that too.’

He’d kicked the door shut behind him and, with his vamp speed, we were in my bedroom only a few moments later, the vampire boy dropping me onto the bed and climbing over me instantly. ‘Listen, y/n, I’m not exaggerating when I say that I’m really, really drunk. Like… I’m wasted,’ he’d murmured into the skin of my neck, hands roughly trailing up and down the sides of my body. ‘I can tell,’ I’d replied breathlessly, hands tangled into his soft black locks, fluffy and messy around his forehead. ‘Which means… I’m not gonna be able to hold back. I probably won’t be gentle like I always am, because that always takes a lot of self-control, which I don’t… really have at the moment. So if you need me to stop, say… werewolf,’ he’d said against my skin, saying the last word with disdain. The werewolves and vampires had always had a long-standing rivalry, and he was obviously aware that the word would pull him out of any desire-filled reverie.

He hadn’t even given me a moment to reply before he’d sunk his teeth into my neck, rough and harsh, and I’d let out a gasp into his ear, his hands gripping onto my waist. He’d sucked at my neck, drinking my blood desperately, and I could feel it dripping down my shoulder and chest. And usually, when I wouldn’t be able to feel anything because of how gentle he was, all I could feel was pleasure, pure hot pleasure flooding through my veins. It was heavenly, and I’d let out little moans and whimpers into his ear, making him even more desperate, with my hands on his back, nails digging in through his thin white shirt.

It wasn’t long before his big veiny hands were wandering eagerly around my body, one palming at my breast and rolling the hard nipple between his fingertips, the other slipping under my shorts and pressing against my clothed core, my wetness having seeped through my underwear. He’d moved away from my neck and looked down at me with ruby red eyes, his jet black hair a sweaty mess and my blood dripping down his chin in harsh red lines. ‘Fuck, y/n, you’re so fucking hot. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,’ he’d growled, his pointed fangs on full display, making my chest tighten with desire. ‘Can I fuck you, doll? I need you so fucking bad right now,’ he’d asked lowly, hands both stilling against my body, and I’d instantly replied, ‘yes, Hyunjin, please.’

Now, another year later, it’s pretty common that we fuck when he feeds on me. I found out that it was so difficult for him to feed on me as gently as he used to, desperate to just throw me against a wall and drain me of every drop. But when I’d look at him nervously with my ‘big innocent eyes’, he knew he couldn’t hurt me. But that night, we’d found out that messy and rough feeding just felt… so much better. We’d also found out a lot of other things since that night; Hyunjin loves biting me in places other than my neck – my boobs and the insides of my thighs are his personal favourites – and I love it when he’s fucking me and bites me just as I’m about to cum – it heightens the pleasure a thousand times, making me see white and scream his name out like it’s being torn from my throat.

But, to my slight disappointment, sex is all it is. We’re like friends with benefits, but the benefits include feeding on me as well as sex. A lot of other things have changed though. Hyunjin practically lives at the apartment now – he sleeps here 4 or 5 nights a week. It’s like we share the apartment; he’s got as many of his belongings here as I do. I don’t mind it, though. He is pretty much my best friend, so spending time together is enjoyable, even if it means I’m falling more and more for him. Hyunjin’s paid me enough over the past couple years for me to be able to do my master’s degree, and I also managed to get a part time job at the coffee shop where Hyunjin and I first met, so it doesn��t feel like I’m solely relying on the money he gives me (it’s enough to fund me, but I don’t want him to think I’m like his little blood bag and nothing more – I basically am but we won’t talk about that).

This last week, though, I went away with the girls for a little last minute break to Rome (we’d planned to go for two weeks but then we would’ve missed Jackson’s Halloween party in a few days, and it’s already being called the party of the year, so we decided to just go for a week), and so he’s had to drink from blood bags whilst I was gone. He was sending me all these sad snapchats of him pouting with a straw in his mouth, wishing he was drinking from me instead – I think he wanted me to react to it with pity, but instead it was just turning me on. I landed back a couple hours ago, and I forgot to have my iron supplement vitamins when I arrived at the apartment, so he’s right – I had them when he knocked on the door.

I look down at him, sprawled out on his side of the sofa, his black locks a stark contrast against the grey cushions. He looks like such a boyfriend, dressed in a thin white t-shirt and a pair of grey joggers, white socks on his feet, glasses on his face and a silver chain around his neck. He looks up at me with a small grin on his face, eyes scanning my body. ‘You look hot, doll,’ he smirks, and I feel my cheeks heating up. I’m only in comfy travel clothes but he’s looking at me like I’m dressed up to the nines. ‘Thank you, Jin,’ I reply, sitting down beside him and letting him pull my legs across his lap.

‘I’m being serious. You look all glowy. And you’ve tanned a little. Did you have fun?’ he asks, hands skimming up and down my legs. ‘I loved it, Jin. We should go together. Everything was so beautiful. The sights are amazing, the weather is gorgeous, the food is delicious, the people are so lovely. The vibes there are just perfect. You’d love it,’ I tell him, and he just watches me as I speak, a small smile on his plump lips. ‘You’ll have to take me one day, angel,’ he murmurs, and I nod, unable to keep the shy smile from my face.

‘I saw on Ryujin’s story,’ he begins, and I knew this was coming, my heart sinking a little as he continues, ‘that you guys made friends with the people staying in the hotel room next to you. What were they like?’ ‘They were nice. We didn’t actually speak to them ‘til the fourth day, then we had dinner and drinks together on the fifth day, went sightseeing together on the sixth, and shopping together on the seventh. But, yeah, they were okay. They were a bit too… boisterous and noisy for my liking, but the girls got on with them, so I didn’t mind spending time with them,’ I explain honestly, and he just nods, looking like he still has more questions. ‘How many of them were there?’ ‘There were eight boys, and four of them brought their girlfriends. I got along better with their girlfriends than them, to be honest,’ I say lightly, Hyunjin just looking at me unreadably. ‘So you spent a few days in Rome with four single guys?’ he asks, voice tight, and I let out a gentle sigh.

‘Jin, do-’ ‘Answer the question, y/n.’ ‘Yes, we did. Is that a problem, Jin?’ ‘No, y/n, it’s not. Or, at least, it wouldn’t be, if you weren’t covered in a scent that isn’t yours,’ he says evenly, and my eyes widen. ‘I’m covered in someone else’s scent? Well… it must be Yuna’s, because we shared a bed. Or Lia’s – I wore her hoodie on the flight ba-’ ‘No, y/n. I’ve spent enough time with Yuna and Lia to know what they smell like. That’s not the scent on you. You smell like a human boy. So stop lying and tell me why,’ he says, voice tight, and I sigh. ‘Jin, I’m not lying. I didn’t, like, sleep with any of them, if that’s what you’re worried about.’ ‘Then why do you smell like a human boy?’ he asks slowly, obviously trying to keep his composure, and I take a deep breath.

‘I was sat next to one of them on the flight back, and he fell asleep. His head fell on my shoulder a couple times, and I felt bad to wake him up, so I just le-’ ‘You just what, y/n? You let a random human boy sleep on you? Get his scent all over you?’ he demands, hands tightening on my legs and veins protruding from beneath his honey skin. ‘Are you being serious right now, Jin?’ ‘Yes, I am. You can’t just let random human boys get their scent all over you.’ ‘And why not?’ I demand, voice shaky with anger as I take my legs off his lap, and he glares at me. ‘Because I pay you a lot of money to feed on you, and I don’t want anyone else getting near what’s mine,’ he growls, butterflies exploding in my stomach when his eyes glow red.

‘But I’m not yours, Jin. You pay me to feed on me. That’s all. There was no agreement that I would stay away from any other boy!’ I exclaim, shocked at how ridiculous he’s being and trying to ignore how much my body is aching for him, and he scoffs. ‘You don’t need any other boy. I give you all the companionship you need, I fund you so you buy anything you want, and I keep you satisfied. That’s all you need,’ he says simply, and my mouth falls open slightly. ‘What if I wanted a boyfriend? An actual relationship with a boy who loves me?’ I ask, giving him a chance to say what I so want him to say, and his eyes flash momentarily before he says, ��you don’t want a relationship.’ ‘What if I did?’ ‘We’ll cross that bridge when it comes to it. But, for now, you’re mine, y/n, and you know it. I don’t want you getting any other boys’ scents on you again, understood?’ he asks, and I just stare at him in shock, unable to believe how unreasonably he’s behaving.

He gives me a few seconds to reply and when I don’t, he moves so quickly I don’t even realise what’s happened until he’s hovering over me, my back pressing into the sofa, and his hand is pressed to my throat tightly. ‘I asked you if you understand,’ he says lowly, eyes glowing red and fangs glinting in the mellow light of the lamp, threateningly sharp. ‘No, Jin, I don’t. I don’t understand why I should have to stay away from other boys,’ I whisper, heart nearly beating out of my chest, and he lets out a harsh scoff. ‘Because you don’t need them. You only need me,’ he growls, tightening his grip on my throat, and I let out a little gasp of surprise, already feeling a slight dizziness in my head.

‘You only want me, too,’ he whispers, ducking his head so that his soft lips move against the skin over my collarbones, releasing my throat and moving his hand to hold my waist instead. ‘You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know how much you want me, doll? You forget how well I know you, much better than you can ever know yourself. I can sense your every thought, your every feeling – I can smell it on you. The way the serotonin rolls off you in waves when you look at me, the way you drip with dopamine when we touch, the way I feel like I’m drunk on your endorphins whenever I’m around. My presence makes you want me, angel, and we both know it,’ he murmurs softly between gentle kisses, fluffy hair tickling against my cheek, and all I can feel, more with each word, is complete and utter humiliation. Never once has he – or any of the other vampires I see on a daily basis – told me that they can do that – can sense humans’ emotions.

He lets out a gentle chuckle, pushing himself up on one forearm to look down at me with a half-smirk. ‘Don’t be embarrassed, doll. I love it – I really fucking love it – that you want me as much as I want you. As much as I’ve always wanted you, since the first moment I set eyes on you. It consumes me, angel, how much I want you,’ he admits, not looking me in the eyes as his hand slowly makes its way up from my waist to brush my hair back from my face, and the butterflies in my stomach are unbearable. ‘How much do you want me?’ I ask without thinking, the words coming out as a whisper, and his eyes flit up to meet mine, both of us silent as I wait for him to speak, hoping to God he’s going to say he wants me just as much as I want him – more than just sexually. ‘More than you can ever know, princess,’ he murmurs, sparkly brown eyes locking with mine, and my heart jumps at the nickname he so rarely calls me – I’m doll every day, angel when he’s in the mood, but I’m only princess every now and then, when his eyes sparkle the way they are now, like he’s looking at the universe and it’s reflected back in those beautiful brown eyes.

‘Let me… let me show you?’ he whispers, the words coming out slightly questioning, and I can’t help the small smile that spreads across my lips, despite not hearing quite what I wanted to. I slide my hand around the back of his neck, fingers pressing into his soft skin as I pull him down to me, eyes sliding shut as his lips meet mine. I never used to understand the hype over kissing. I never had any of the fireworks, the passion, the clashing tongues and teeth like you read in books and see in films. I only ever kissed one boy, once, and it was quite awkward – he practically tried to suck off my face from the get-go, his hands clamped on my shoulders. But Hyunjin, god, is he good at kissing? I could kiss him for the rest of my life, with his soft plump lips and his hands trailing all over my body.

He barely waits a second before parting my lips with his, tongue sliding into my mouth without a moment of hesitation and his big hand pressing against my waist. I tangle my hands into his hair, soft locks sliding between my fingers, and I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me, as close as physically possible. Before I even have a chance to start feeling uncomfortable, I feel a rush a movement, and not even a few seconds later, I’m on my bed beneath him, our lips still pressed together.

He turns us over, my body laid on top of his, and I forget momentarily that my weight atop him is nothing in comparison to the kind of weight he can carry. I practically melt into him, my body melding into the curves and contours of his body, fitting us together like puzzle pieces. He slides his hands into my hair, the feeling of his fingers against my scalp making me let out a soft whine. ‘You’re fucking perfect, doll,’ he groans against my lips, my entire body tingling as our mouths move in sync, slow and passionate, not nearly as rushed and desperate as usual. His touches are gentle, careful and tender, where he usually holds me in a bruisingly tight grip, rough and possessive.

I slide my hands under his t-shirt tentatively, and he doesn’t even hesitate to sit up, breaking away from me momentarily as I pull the top over his head, throwing it over my shoulder as he reattaches his lips to mine. I slide my hands over his torso, fingers roaming over the ridges of his hard abs, his skin radiating heat. Vampires might have no circulation but the rumour about them being freezing cold all the time is false – their body temperature automatically regulates to the temperature around them, meaning he’s just as hot as I am right now.

His hands slide under my shirt, and we break apart again for him to pull it over my head, instantly leaning down to suck at the exposed skin of my breasts as he cups them, big hands covering them completely. I let out gentle whines, head falling back, and one of his hands comes to rest at the base of my exposed throat, asserting his dominance – I might be on top of him right now, but we both know who’s in charge here.

He doesn’t wait long before turning us over, kissing me for a few more moments before he climbs off me, standing at the foot of the bed. He gently grabs my ankles, pulling me down the bed, and I let out a gentle giggle, a smile on his face at the sound. He pulls off my socks, momentarily tickling the underside of one foot, and a startled laugh is forced out of me as I kick at his hand to make him stop. He reaches for the drawstring of my joggers with a grin, tugging it open deftly and pulling them down my legs swiftly.

My black underwear isn’t anything special, just a plain cotton bra and my high-waisted comfy granny pants, but his eyes trawl over my body like I’m in the finest lingerie, the bulge in his joggers becoming a little more noticeable, making my mouth water embarrassingly quickly – I could live on my knees for Hyunjin if that’s what he wanted me to do. His eyes meet mine, a small smirk on his lips as he drops to his knees, pulling me further down the bed so that my legs are slung over his broad shoulders, heels resting against his strong back.

His hands grab at my pants, ripping them away from my body effortlessly, reminding me again of just how strong he is – he could literally crush my neck without a single hair of his moving out of place. He spreads my legs further, eyes locked onto my core, and he lets out a gentle groan. ‘Fuck, so wet for me, angel,’ he murmurs, running a finger over my slit, a desperate whimper falling from my lips. ‘I don’t need prepping – just want you, Jin,’ I murmur, and he lets out a gentle chuckle. ‘That’s the spirit, doll, but I don’t wanna rip you in half. We’ll see how well you take my fingers first,’ he says amusedly, not giving me a second to reply before he plunges a finger into me.

I gasp loudly, but the pleasure disappears with his finger which he lifts to his lips, eyes locked with mine as he licks his finger clean of my essence. His eyes flutter shut momentarily as he lets out a low moan, my pussy flooding at the sound. ‘You taste amazing, so fucking sweet. This pussy was made for me to eat, wasn’t it, angel?’ he asks, and when I take a second to reply, he raises an eyebrow, prompting me. ‘Yes, Jin, only for you,’ I reply hastily, and a satisfied smile spreads across his lips.

His finger slips between my folds again, and he doesn’t give me a second to react before he adds another, trying to work me open a little. ‘You’re so tight, doll. And you said you didn’t need prepping,’ he laughs, curling his long fingers inside me, making me clench around him. He slowly pumps in and out of me, rocking his hand against me gently, and I let out moan after moan at this completely foreign feeling. He’s always so quick, so desperate to have me fall apart on his hand as fast as I could, but this? This is different, this is slow, heavenly, like he wants me to enjoy this blissful feeling.

He adds another finger, just about fitting inside me, and I throw my head back against the bed, back arching up as I let out a loud moan of his name. ‘Fuck, angel, you’re killing me. Love your pretty moans,’ I hear him murmur, his voice just about breaking through the pleasure that rolls over me like waves crashing, and his thumb appears at my clit, rubbing slow circles that make me whimper desperately. I look down at him, stomach turning when I realise he’s been watching me, eyes studying my face for my reactions as his fingers work their magic, and I can barely maintain his eye contact, hearing him chuckle when my head falls back, mouth falling open in a moan.

His fingers disappear from inside me after a few minutes, giving me a momentary reprieve from the overwhelming pleasure as he moves closer to me, warm breath fanning out over my core. ‘Oh, god,’ I moan out when he licks a long stripe up my slit without warning. My hands instantly reach down to tangle into his hair, tugging at the locks as he sucks at my clit with his plump lips, making my toes curl. He flicks his tongue over my folds, whimpers spilling from my lips as I squirm, and Hyunjin puts one arm over my waist, pressing down to hold me in place.

He pokes his tongue between my folds, gently pushing into my core, and my mouth falls open into a silent scream when he begins to slowly rub at my clit with his thumb, my legs slamming into his back and pulling him even closer, as close as possible, his head completely buried between my legs. Wet and obscene slurping sounds drown out my desperate moans, and Hyunjin begins to let out grunts and groans against me, lapping at me like a man possessed.

I feel myself getting closer, the knot in my stomach tightening as Hyunjin sucks at my clit, pushing two fingers into me and pumping them at a mind-numbing pace. ‘Gonna cum for me, angel?’ he hums against me, and I can’t even muster up the sanity to reply, just moaning out his name, and he lets out a low chuckle before flicking his tongue over my sensitive bud, fingers curling against the spongy spot inside me. I tense up completely, head pressed back into the bed as I call out his name in a moan, releasing all over his hand and tongue. He works me through my orgasm, gently rocking his hand against me as he laps at my folds. ‘God, you taste amazing,’ he murmurs once I’ve come down from my high, licking the last bit of my release from his fingers, and it takes all my effort to lock my eyes with his as he does so, his lips quirking up into a smirk.

And then he lifts his wrist to his mouth, and I know what’s coming, stomach turning with excitement as he bites down into the skin. When he pulls his wrist away from his mouth, I push myself up onto my hands shakily, leaning forward to his wrist that he holds out to me, blood blooming from the smallest little wounds in his skin. I hold his arm to my mouth, sucking at the dots of blood, the metallic taste exploding on my tongue, and not a second after swallowing it down, I feel my energy coming back, regaining my strength quickly.

He pulls his arm away after a few seconds, his focus returning to between my legs, but when he lowers his head, his lips land on my inner thigh rather than my pussy, and I brace myself for the initial sting. His sharp fangs puncture into my soft thigh, the smallest sharp pain making me wince, but it quickly disappears when he hungrily gulps down my blood, messy and desperate. He lets out groans against my thigh, my blood dripping down my skin as he drinks me like a man starved, and I can already feel myself weakening, the pleasure making my head light and dizzy. He lifts his arm up again after a few moments, the two tiny puncture wounds still bleeding, and I lick it up, the weakness disappearing instantly.

He pulls away after around a minute, my blood dripping down his chin in two lines from the corners of his mouth, as though he’s greedily taken more of me into his mouth than he could handle, and he smirks at me as I wipe it up, putting my now bloodstained finger to his lips. He licks my finger in one swift motion, eyes closing as he savours the taste. ‘It’s not fair, angel. You shouldn’t have such a sweet pussy and delicious blood. You’ve got the whole package,’ he murmurs lightly, making me laugh as he rises from his knees, a small smile playing at his lips.

He looks down at me, dark eyes flitting over my body, and I feel conscious under his intimidating gaze. He seems to sense that I want to curl in on myself, shield my body from his view, and he gives me a soft smile. ‘You’re so fucking beautiful, y/n, and you don’t even know it. You’re heavenly, angel,’ he murmurs softly, holding out a hand to me, and I take it, letting him pull me up from the bed and into his arms. He holds me so tenderly, so gently, that I can’t help but bury my head into his chest, his soft and floral scent flooding my senses.

‘Gonna let me fuck you, angel?’ he asks, voice low, and I take a step back from him, a small smile on my face. ‘Wanna suck your dick first,’ I reply, his eyes darkening instantly, and I can’t help the grin on my face when he groans, ‘you’re one of a fucking kind.’ I take his hand into mine, pulling him around to the side of the bed. I kneel on the bed, hands on his shoulders to steady myself, and once I’m comfortable, I pull the drawstring on his joggers open, slipping my hands under to push them halfway down his thighs. He’s wearing a pair of plain black boxers, his bulge straining against the material, but I don’t pull them down just yet, instead moving my attention to his torso.

He’s so perfect, sculpted by the Gods, and I can’t help but admire his body every time I see it, hands running up his stomach and chest, and over his big shoulders. I bring my lips up to his collarbone, kissing and sucking to leave a mark, threading my hands into the hair at the nape of his neck. He waits patiently, hands on my waist, lips letting out gentle sighs every now and then, and I can’t help but respect his self-control. He’s always so patient, putting me before himself, and I can’t even imagine how difficult it must be for him.

I take pity on him after a little while, moving from his neck and looking up at him with a small smile as my hands trail down to his underwear. I slip my hands beneath the waistband, pulling his boxers down just enough for his hard length to spring up against his stomach, Hyunjin letting out a gentle hiss. He’s so long with a perfect curve (he has the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen), and his head is painfully swollen and red, the tip leaking with milky white precum. My mouth waters at the sight.

I lean down and press a kiss to the tip, tongue sliding out to taste some of his precum, and he lets out a shaky breath. I spread his wetness down his length with one hand, his hands coming to tangle into my hair. I place my tongue at the base, licking up to the tip against the vein on the underside of his cock, and he tenses as I do so, gripping my hair tightly. I take his head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him as my hands slowly rub the rest of his length. I look up at him through my lashes as I take him further into my mouth, feeling him hit the back of my throat, and his head falls back, a soft moan falling from his lips.

I gradually build my pace, steadily bobbing my head on him and taking him as far in as possible. ‘Such a good girl, doll,’ he groans, gentle moans falling from his lips more and more often now, and I know it isn’t going to be long before he loses all control. I’m just beginning to adjust to having him hit the back of my throat with each bob of my head when his hips start twitching, and he begins thrusting into my mouth, controlling my head movements with his hands fisted into my hair. All I can do I grab onto the backs of his thighs as he fucks my mouth, my eyes beginning to water. His tip hits the back of my throat harshly, and I gag around him loudly, making him curse as he bucks into my throat.

‘Swallow,’ he instructs, voice not nearly as gentle and soft as a few minutes ago, and I try my best to do so, my throat contracting around him in noisy gags. ‘Come on, doll, you can take me further than that,’ he says teasingly, before pulling my head forward, his cock pushing down my throat and my lips wrapped around the base of his cock, and he can barely thrust back and forth because of how tight my throat is around him, desperately gagging to push him back out. Tears stream down my face, saliva running down my chin, and my choked gags and desperate breaths mingling with his soft grunts and whispered words of comfort in the air.

I can feel him getting closer, his cock twitching in my throat, and I ready myself to feel his hot release hit the back of my throat, but he pulls me off him with a loud sigh, looking down at me with tender eyes. He wipes the saliva from my face with gentle fingers, tilting my head up to kiss away the tear tracks that stain my skin, hand stroking my hair soothingly. ‘Always so good for me, angel. Gonna let me fuck you now?’ he asks, our eyes locked together, and I nod eagerly. ‘Please, Jin, want you,’ I breathe out, throat hoarse, and he grins, pressing his lips to mine in a brief kiss.

‘Lie down for me,’ he says, and I do so, watching as he pulls his joggers and boxers down his legs and kicking them away impatiently before he joins me on the bed, hovering over me. ‘You’re still in your bra, doll. This won’t do,’ he grins, slipping a hand beneath my body to expertly unclasp my bra. I pull it off me quickly, throwing it off to the side as Hyunjin ducks his head, flicking his tongue across one nipple as he rolls the other between his fingers, toying and tugging at it gently. I let out a gentle whimper, tangling my fingers into his hair, and he lets out a gentle chuckle. ‘Want me to bite you, angel?’ he asks teasingly, and I let out a low moan as confirmation, feeling his sharp fangs slide into the soft flesh of my breast not a moment later.

I gasp loudly, pleasure flooding through my veins as he swallows down my blood hungrily, the heady haze of bliss settling over me more and more with each gulp. Whimpers and moans fall from my lips every few seconds, my hands in his hair pulling him closer and closer, one of his big hands gripping onto my waist, fingers rubbing against my skin comfortingly. He doesn’t drink a lot this time, having had more than enough from my thigh, so I don’t feel too weak, but he still feeds me a little of his blood when he’s done, making me smile up at him.

‘Are you sure you still want me to fuck you? Have you got enough energy?’ he asks softly, brushing my hair back from my face, and I nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. ‘I want it, Jinnie. I want you,’ I whisper against his lips, and I feel him grin, resting on one forearm as he rubs his head against my folds teasingly. ‘Jin… please,’ I breathe out, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and he lets out a low chuckle. ‘I like hearing you beg, doll,’ he murmurs, smile playing at his lips as he continues running his head up and down my folds, tapping the tip against my clit every few seconds, the wetness gushing from my core soaking him. ‘Please, Jin, need you to fuck me, fill me up with your cock, bite me and drain me dry, need it so bad,’ I plead pathetically, and his eyes darken at my words, the boy letting out a gentle ‘fuck’.

He sinks into me slowly, and I gasp as he inches in, enjoying the burning stretch and gripping onto his strong shoulders as I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me with my ankles locked together. He lets out a low groan when he bottoms out, our bodies lined up perfectly, and he brings his hand up to my mouth, slipping two fingers past my lips. I roll my tongue around them as he gives me a moment to stop clenching around him and adjust to the stretch. He pushes his fingers a little further in, making me gag around them, and I shoot him evils, Hyunjin trying to look apologetic, but failing miserably and looking amused instead.

‘Can I- fuck, angel, you gotta stop clenching, gonna make me cum. Can I move? Doll, please, I need to move,’ he pleads, the words coming out as a low whine, and I feel a thrill in my stomach. I can’t help but feel pride at being able to make Hyunjin – someone so dominant – whiny and submissive because he’s that desperate to fuck me. I hum out permission around his fingers, and he pulls all the way out before pushing back in, slow and deep, the drag of his cock against my walls making us both moan. ‘Fuck, so tight, angel. So wet and tight. Fucking love this pussy, doll,’ he growls as he fucks into me, dark eyes locked with mine as I moan around his fingers.

‘How’d you want it, y/n? Want me to fuck you slow, doll, or so hard you can’t walk tomorrow?’ he asks in a low voice, hips stilling as he pulls his fingers out of my mouth, and I let out a gentle whine, not quite sure what I want. ‘Anything, Jin, just need you,’ I whisper breathlessly, and he grins a cocky grin, his ego satisfied. His hand comes to the base of my throat, pads of his fingers resting against my blood vessels, and he pulls out, leaving me feeling empty, before slamming all the way back in, knocking all of the air out of me in a desperate moan, his balls slapping against my ass.

‘You were only gone a week but, fuck, I missed you so fucking much. Missed your sweet pussy and your sweet blood, angel. Couldn’t stop myself from jacking off to the thought of this tight, wet little cunt, doll,’ he growls against my ear, his hand at my throat tightening just a little, and I let out a pathetic whimper in reply, his words sending a fresh wave of arousal gushing out of me, coating his thighs and abdomen. ‘So wet, doll, gushing around me. Did you miss my cock, angel?’ he asks between thrusts, my hands tangling into his soft locks, gripping tightly. ‘Missed your cock so much, Jin. Wanted you so fucking bad while I was gone. Never wanna leave you again,’ I try to say, half of it coming out as garbled nonsense and moans, and he lets out a low groan, his thrusts becoming even harder and deeper, his silver chain brushing against my chin with each thrust.

His hand tightens even more, completely cutting off my airflow, and my head instantly starts to become light, the pleasure increasing endlessly with each second. ‘More,’ I barely manage to breathe out, and he lets out a gentle chuckle, doing as I say, fucking me so hard that the bed creaks with each thrust. ‘My dirty little girl. Can’t even handle what I’m already giving you, and you’re asking for more. You forget how strong I am. I’m gonna tear you in half as this rate, angel,’ he murmurs against my ear, hand still tight at my throat, silver rings digging into my skin, and I don’t even feel fear, like I probably should. All I can feel is pure, hot need.

He moves one of my legs from around his waist, bringing it up between us so that my ankle rests on his shoulder, the new position allowing him to go deeper, so much deeper, and his tip scrapes against the spot inside me that makes me scream. He reaches down to rub at my clit, bringing me closer to my climax, and I can feel my vision beginning to go blank when he ducks his head to suck at my neck with his plump lips. The mixed sensations of his hand at my throat, his cock filling me up perfectly, his thumb at my clit and his mouth sucking marks onto my skin makes my eyes flutter shut, the pleasure overwhelming me.

‘Look at me, angel. Wanna see those pretty eyes while I fuck you,’ he growls, cock dragging against my walls, and it takes all my energy to open my eyes. His jaw is clenched, sweat dripping down his face, lips swollen, eyes dark and dilated, glinting red every few seconds, his chain dangling in my face. He looks like sin incarnate. ‘Fuck, you’re so pretty. So fucking pretty,’ he groans, releasing my throat from his tight grip, and I take a deep gasping breath, not even realising how much I needed to breathe. He holds his wrist to his mouth, biting at it again and pushing it against my mouth. I lick up the small drops of blood, quickly regaining my strength, and he presses his lips to mine once I’m done, in a brief passionate and sloppy kiss.

He breaks away from me with a grin, continuing to fuck me hard and deep, swollen tip scraping against the spongy spot inside me, and I let out desperate moans and whimpers of his name, Hyunjin grunting and groaning sinfully softly as tears stream down my face, blurring my vision. I clench around him sporadically, knowing my high is nearing, and he knows it too, his hand slipping down to my clit and rubbing slow circles with his thumb, making me call out his name. ‘Gonna cum for me, doll?’ he asks, and I can’t even bring myself to reply, just nodding along with loud moan, and he grins, his cock still hammering into me.

‘Want you to cum for me, angel. Cum on my cock, y/n, soak it up like a good little girl. So good for me, angel, wanna feel you cum around me,’ he prompts, pushing me closer and closer, the knot in stomach becoming tighter and tighter, and I’m so close, practically there, hanging on the precipice of my high. He grins at me, his lethal fangs sliding out and his eyes glowing red before he ducks his head, biting into the soft flesh of my neck and pushing me over the edge. I scream out his name as he gulps down my blood, numbing bliss flowing through me like morphine, his cock still rocking into me and his thumb toying with my clit. My vision is completely blank, neither white nor black, just… blank, pleasure exploding within me, and I feel my consciousness slipping away until Hyunjin’s finger slips between my lips. He must have bitten it because I taste his blood on my tongue, bringing me back to this moment with him.

He breaks away from my neck when I’ve come down from my high, lips and chin covered in my blood and his eyes still flickering red as he grins, both hands digging into the mattress on either side of my head, the pace of his thrusts increasing once more, his cock slamming into me as he chases his high. I wrap my legs around his waist tightly, arms around his shoulders and nails digging into his skin, hard enough to leave marks. I try not to let the overstimulation stop me from getting him to his climax, my pussy clenching around him with sensitivity, and when I feel his cock twitching inside me, desperate moans falling from his lips and face scrunching up with desperate desire, I know he’s about to cum. I dig my heels into his back to hold him deep inside me, and his head drops down to my neck.

‘Cum in me, Jin. Wanna feel you cum in me, please. Fill me up, Jin. Cum for me, baby,’ I murmur into his ear and he does as I ask, moaning my name loudly against my neck as his entire body tenses up. He bites into me again as he releases inside me, his hot thick cum painting my insides as he slowly moves his hips against me, leisurely sucking my blood. He gently rocks into me until he’s finished and I’m completely out of breath, both of us covered in blood, sweat, tears and cum.

‘God, you’re so good for me, angel,’ he murmurs gently after pulling away from my neck, his fangs retracting before he presses kisses to the skin he’s just bitten, sucking and nipping to leave marks. I play with his hair, body still tensing with aftershocks, and he runs his hands up and down my body, caressing my sweaty skin. Every movement, every action, every featherlight touch of his is so comforting, so tender, that I feel like I can stay here with him forever, letting him worship my body so gently like this, my hands playing with his soft, fluffy locks.

But after a while, I can feel myself drifting away, and I know I can’t sleep like this – covered in various… liquids, with completely soiled sheets and a vampire practically drunk on my blood lying on top of me. ‘Jin… I gotta get up. Clean myself up before I sleep,’ I murmur, and he whines, making me smile at his bratty behaviour. ‘No, wanna stay like this,’ he mumbles against my breast, having ventured down to leave marks on the soft flesh beside my nipple. ‘We can after. Just let me have a quick shower and change the sheets,’ I say softly, and he sighs, waiting a few moments before he pulls out of me and gets up off me, standing up beside the bed.

‘Wait here a second,’ he says before heading towards the bathroom, giving me a view of his cute little ass as he goes. I lie there in silence for a couple minutes, focused on the feeling of his thick cum trickling out of me, before he reappears with a smile, making my heart stop momentarily. His hair is pasted to his forehead with sweat, the bottom half of his face is covered in blood, his lips are swollen and his eyes are lidded with the drunken tiredness of being full on blood, but he looks like the most beautiful man in the world to me.

He scoops me up into his arms, bridal style, and carries me into the bathroom, my eyes on his face the entire time, a small smile on his lips because he knows I’m watching him and admiring him. When we walk into the bathroom, my eyes flit to the bathtub, which is now full. I realise he’s drawn me a bath, my heart swelling when he gently puts me down, not letting go until my feet are firmly on the floor. ‘Go to the toilet first. Don’t want you getting a UTI,’ he says, and I let out a bratty whine, making him raise an eyebrow. ‘Toilet. Now,’ he says, and I pout, stomping to the toilet. His eyes stay locked with mine as I piss, and I let out a laugh after a few seconds – the fact that he’s stood there naked and covered in blood watching me as I wee naked and covered in blood is just so funny to my sleep deprived and jet-lagged mind – and he just rolls his eyes with an amused smile.

Once I’m done washing my hands, I practically bound to the bath eagerly, and he helps me to climb in. I sigh happily as sit in the tub, the temperature of the water perfect to cool down my burning hot skin. I lean back against the edge, my eyelids drooping with tiredness as I watch him wash his face in the sink, cleaning away all the blood. ‘What a waste,’ he murmurs as he watches the red-tinted water wash down the sinkhole, making me let out a little laugh, and he smiles softly at the sound. He climbs into the shower and I watch as he turns the dial, the glass fogging up as the water rains down over him, soaking his honey skin and his pitch black hair.

I love watching Hyunjin do anything, my eyes not leaving his face as he gently scrubs at his skin with my passionfruit-scented shower gel, but I’m so tired that, without even realising it, I fall asleep after a few minutes. Hyunjin wakes me with a tender smile, once he’s out of the shower, wearing fresh underwear and joggers, his chest bare and a towel around his neck to gather the water that drips from his dark hair. I’m too tired to even speak as he washes me, soft hands rubbing gently at my skin, cleaning away the sweat on my body, the blood stains around where he bit me, the dried release around my thighs and the echoes of tear tracks on my face. Neither of us speak the entire time, but we don’t really have to – his touches on my body say everything he wants to say, and my gaze locked onto his face says anything I want to say.

He drains the bath, drying me carefully and carrying me back into the bedroom once he’s done, redressing me in a clean pair of underwear and a soft t-shirt of his that I’ve claimed as my own. He must have changed the sheets whilst I was asleep in the bath, and we climb into my bed together, his arms holding me close. I almost fall asleep the instant my head lands on the pillow, eyes fluttering shut as my body lines up with Hyunjin’s, his front pressed to my back and his arms around my waist. I stay awake just long enough to hear him whisper something, something that sounds suspiciously like what I’ve wanted to hear from him for nearly as long as I’ve known him, but sleep takes me before I can reply.

When I wake in the morning, the other side of the bed is empty, and his bedroom is empty too. And when I see that his shoes are gone from beside the door, I realise he must have left whilst I was asleep. I practically turn the apartment upside down, but he hasn’t left me a note. I check my phone, but he hasn’t texted or called. I can barely make it back into bed before I dissolve into tears, sobbing as though my heart would break.

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vithyahairandmakeup · 5 years ago

Text

My Decade

My 2010 started with me finishing my one year diploma at London College of Fashion. I was so excited to start my new career with this prestigious qualification at one of the World’s top fashion institutions, but the makeup artist I used to look up to so much then, told me that I would not last long in this field. She broke my heart. And not because I thought I was doomed, but because of how discouraging and mean she was.

Up until that moment I thought I had to prove something to my family, but then quickly realised that I am leaving one pack of wolves - my family of course - to walk into another - this industry!I swore to myself then, that I would encourage and support any other makeup artist along my journey and not be like her. I would like to believe that I stayed true to that to some extent. Whatever she had told me did place some doubt in my heart. Just as a precaution I thought I better apply somewhere and work part time at least. So I applied at MAC cosmetics, who had actually rejected me. They then gave me a call a few months later and asked if I could cover during their busy christmas period. Once I started at MAC, they kept me on and I worked for them for another 3 years. They even offered me the managerial position, the irony.

During the three years at MAC, I was so unsure and so confused in what direction I wanted to go in. It was a part time position, so it didn’t pay well, and I was desperately trying to freelance on the weekends. I would get a client once every few months, who wouldn’t pay me much. Without a car, without a proper makeup trolley, it was agony carrying my suitcase up and down underground staircases and holding onto it with my dear life during packed train journeys. I can assure you, it was not a pleasant experience at all.I tried being part of short movies, worked with the National Portrait Gallery, the Arcadia group (who own Topshop, Dorothy Perkins etc.), fashion shows for Nintendo, and even a shoot for British Airways. But all were unpaid and definitely got me nowhere except for a few phone pictures to add to my Facebook Page.

I would come home after a long day of standing and lugging my suitcase around, and my parents would look at me with judgemental eyes wondering why a science graduate who landed a very well paid job in a huge marketing company, would give it all up to do makeup on people for minimum wages and be treated like a servant?I honestly never ever regretted my decision. Yes it was tough not making money, and spending all my earnings on building a better makeup kit or on my travel, but it gave me life; it brought me happiness, it made me want to get out of bed, and it definitely distracted me from my anti depressants and suicidal thoughts. Being a makeup artist brought me back to life.

In 2013, I quit MAC and took the brave decision to go self employed. I registered my company officially. My freelance work had picked up, and I wanted to free my weekends from working in retail. I wanted to explore more and try out new things.I still remember I had hit 10K followers on Instagram after joining in 2012 and more and more people started to get to know me around the world. Instagram opened up a lot of doors for me.Having lived in Germany most of my childhood, my parents were ok with me travelling to Europe for bridal jobs because I was able to stay with family. I think I was the first Tamil makeup artist back then who travelled to neighbouring countries for work. That was probably one of the best decisions I had made. Travelling around Europe and doing makeup got me exposed a lot more and people who were not on social media knew of my existence.

And as per usual I would still collaborate and work for free with anyone who contacted me. I wanted to get out there and try everything new. During exactly one of these collabs, I was asked to come early morning one day, to do makeup on a male model for a music video shoot. When I arrived that Monday morning I nearly fainted at the sight of Simbu, a very famous Tamil Actor. I was getting my station ready when the makeup artist who was hired for the entire movie did end up coming for this music video shoot. I was gutted. I thought I won’t get a chance to work with him and was prepared to pack up and leave. But the organiser was adamant that I stay and help out. I asked the makeup artist if I could do touch up makeup at least for a few scenes, and she kindly let me. The pictures I took of that moment went viral in South India, and that was the first time people in India started following my work on social media or even knew of my existence.It was also the first time a lot of makeup artists noticed me and can I just say they were not happy with this newbie getting to work with celebrities.

It got worse in 2014 when I was asked to do makeup for another famous Actress, Sneha, for a Wedding Exhibition. To be honest I was very overwhelmed. I did not think I was cut out for the job and kept asking the organisers why not pick some of the more experienced makeup artists. I really was not ready for such a big job. I wasn’t confident.However, the organiser told me that out of all the profiles she had sent Sneha, Sneha herself picked me. That was all I needed. I spoke to Sneha on the phone a week before her arrival, and met her a few days before the show, to discuss the looks and make sure she was happy with everything.Working with her will forever be one of my most cherished moments in my career. She believed in me and trusted me. However a lot of people were absolutely angry at the thought of me doing makeup on someone as famous as her. They could not comprehend that someone as inexperienced, nor established as myself would bag in a job like this. I did understand their disappointment, but was sad that no one seemed to want to support me.

Later that same year, I was asked if I was interested in being a production assistant for two songs from the movie Nanbenda; it was a Red Giant Production acting Udhayanidi and Nayanthara, line produced by Kavino from MYA Media. Of course I know nothing about production, but did not want to turn down this opportunity, so took 9 days off and decided to help out. The shoot took place all over Great Britain with a huge budget and an experience of a life time. I got to personally work with Nayanthara and saw what happened behind the scenes. I made great friends during that shoot, even had the responsibility of finding a castle and two horses for one scene, but went home having to deal with a divorce. Even though career-wise 2014 was a great year for me, but on a personal level I had to deal with a lot of heart ache. And no, it had nothing to do with my career, it was simply bad timing.

The following few years just had me on a rollercoaster to be honest. I tried numerous new things; being a TV host, a judge for dance competitions and beauty peagants, modelling, acting in commercials which never made it on TV, makeup for adverts, short films, magazine shoots, editorials, none were paid of course, until I found a new love for teaching.

I started teaching one-to-one tutorials in 2014 and remember I couldn’t even get two students that December. The following year it grew to 10 students, and in 2016 I had back to back students who were willing to pay whatever I quoted. That I when I made the decision of doing a Masterclass after seeing Mario (Kim Kardashian’s Makeup Artist) do these around the US. I had no guidelines nor knew how to start. Masterclasses were unheard of in our community. I was the first.I hired a small gallery space, and rented 20 chairs. I had my cousins and friends help me set up and we bought a Kettle and paper cups to serve tea and coffee for everyone. I thought the day went so well, and absolutely enjoyed the teaching, to get a call at the end of that day from my mum crying down the phone telling me that our house got robbed. Well we quickly found out that nothing was actually stolen, but the house just go trashed. A lot of us that night stayed up thinking someone did not want me to do these classes. My high ended with such a low, and got worse when I woke up to a lot of emails from our students complaining about numerous things in regards to my Masterclass. Today, I have taught 16 classes all over the world now with as many as 80 students, and for renowned makeup brands such as Bobbi Brown and Nars Cosmetics. So don’t ever let anyone or anything stop you from what you love and what you are meant to do.

Anyway, the following years have definitely been the best; from campaign shoots for Pothys, being flown out around the world for Bridal jobs, being a panelist and being a Keynote speaker for American Express, working with South Indian Movie celebrities Amy Jackson, Bharathirajah, the beautiful Sneha again, and Meena, being in charge of Makeup for Anirudh’s Concert in London and Paris, interviewed on mental health and published in Huffington Post, and my YouTube journey with my Saree draping video amassing nearly 6 million views. I know this is not work related but me marrying the most amazing human being in New York almost 3 years ago definitely was a huge benefactor in my career too. Happiness does wonders, I tell you.

Either way, none of it came easy. Yes it was hard work, but no one ever publicly or openly talks about the politics and the drama that happen in the industry behind closed doors. How not only do you have to deal with your nerves when working on a big project but you probably have to pray all day that no one tries to sabotage this opportunity for you; that no one talks to the organiser and pays them off to drop you last minute (has happened to me countless times), and hope that no one talks behind your back and invents rumours about you. The best rumour was that my ex husband left me because I was having a relationship with Simbu apparently. When my Bride told me that, my answer was “I wish”. We had such a laugh that day.

My last 10 years taught me so much. I grew on a professional and personal level. I think maturity and experience has helped me deal with a lot of it, and face a lot of it.I have some amazing friends also who are in the same field as me, and I have never stopped encouraging, teaching, or inspiring others who are entering this industry. I want to be that someone I never had 10 years ago. Jealousy, competitiveness, and hate does nothing but destroy. It ruins, and it causes nothing but pain. Fame can be another culprit too. It’s great to want to grow on social media, but do not lose your morals, values, and principles along the way. Once you lose respect, it is very hard to earn it back.

How does one deal with all of this? I used to wonder why some people were so horrible, but then gave up trying to figure out what their reasons were. I still get hate or have situations were other makeup artists try and make it very difficult for me, but the first step was to block a lot of words and people on social media. Of course we want to be liked, and we want to be a good person and set a good example, but do we really need to prove something to someone who does not know you nor like you? No matter what line of business you are, there is going to be competition. There is going to be people around you who are going to watch you like a hawk and copy every single thing that you do. But let that be a positive thing. Let that challenge you to do better, and be better, and get outside of your comfort zone. Focus on your own path and cut out anything or anyone who stresses you out or causes negativity. It really is as simple as that.Comparing yourself to others is the worst thing you could do to yourself. Insecurities do not get you anywhere. Have the right people around you who feed your soul with positivity and happiness. And definitely stay away from those who like to gossip about others in the industry. Never healthy I tell you. Trust me, I have been there, done that.

My testimony is to help you see the non-glamorous side of my job, but also see how it has never been easy and still isn’t for any of us. In 2007 I tried to take my life. If anyone had told me then, that in 2020 I will be writing a blog about how to deal with negativity, I would have laughed in their face. But here I am today, doing what I love, loving life, and not being the slightest bit deterred by the few who will always try and bring you down. I have an amazing support system of family and friends, and there are hundreds of thousands of you who support me, so surely that has to count for something too. I am so ready to take on the next decade. Are you?

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geektech713 · 4 years ago

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My Bipolar life & Struggles

My Testimony! living with bipolar & healed of bipolar in 2017 about my 2008 story I am disabled by federal government and state because of my bipolar disorder . I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder after I started my business outside of high school ..I been fighting for my life since 2001 when I was diagnosed ..I started Digitalrao dba on december 15th 2001 and then I was diagnosed by doctor in March I was on medication . I was only 18 or 19 when I started my business straight out high school I was about about to start find funding and everything ..but High school friends and bullies at school were making making me fight for get be left alone ..I was throw in ISS most the school year and everything I eventually left I went to Private Christian school in my town to get school . I am always learning because of my disorder makes me hard to concrete . I am not the violent type of bipolar you hear about ..I like to take care of my issue ASAP before it gets worse , find the doctors to help .I am forced to take medication for my survival and I won’t be able to destroy my life or online rep . For all those who don’t know my testimony . Bipolar Disorder is Mental Illness , I believe it because I gave up on life with my Bullied bad in high school and standed up against them . I was in school for almost 4 -5 years because of other issues and then Private I tried to finish early but I took college Computer Networking class at another High School in our District for extra credit an Air Force ROTC . I flew once behind the control of small plane too . I have decided to follow Jesus with everything after finding an youth group called Portico at Old lakewood church campus before the moved into stadium ..Lakewood church ..Joel Osteen before that was John Osteen before he went up to the lord . well I was fighting to get my life on the straight path because I was fighting things unseen I don’t want to talk about it was battle over my soul after I got out the hospital and doctor visits and court from trans passing at my high school I went too .after couple months of dealing with State over my condition they dismissed my charged I was set free and I came running to God/Jesus because .I know medication and doctors wouldn’t be able to heal me . Bipolar disorder was called Manic Depression . yes I suffer from depression I haven’t been depressed in couple of months It is getting better. Bipolar is very serious mental condition . it destroys life’s left and right ..I am restart my life after relapse 2 years and took me 2 years of Hard work to get back where I am now but I had to fight for my life in everything I believe in and test my thinking and mindset and friends . I do my business because it is my dream and It is accident in 2001 Google came out and was just a start up and I heard about I google how to start a business and researched how to get into it ..I am just dba doing business as One day I will have enough money to Corporate it and just watch it grow and let some Jesus let MBA older person lead the company .well i was saying . I was starting to building up on my own feet with no partnerships or anything I am boot stamping Digital Rao right now But I have partnership with Business Remedy my first independent contract . well one with my story I was engaged to some girl that I though would be the one well I thought she was real christian and changed but I was wrong ..short story she left me after one of my business owner friends told me she was using me or cheating on me . I was heart Broken . I tried to get computers jobs to keep afloat I was working at Kroger and moved up 3 positions in 9 months of being their from sacker to dairy department but I was asked to be Kroger Department manager because I am career driven . I told other store manager NO because some off the wall . my X fiance parents and her was telling to say NO to the offer because some stupid reason . but my personal reason was because I wanted to be in computers not retail environment I left to Truckstop to work the cashiers and learn to run a store at night ..well I was working on my business running , taking calls and going to work at night 10-6am and then I would take calls from my ad’s in yellow pages and online and talk with vendors and so on …Lets say I almost had it but then how my story gets sad and depressing ..well I said my X fiance . I wanted to go Trade conference in Dallas,TX an Technology conference I was invited to go as local business I was so happy and my fiance wasn’t I was preparing to go a room at hotel some far to save on gas and food and all expenses just getting ready and then bam . I wanted to go San Antonio or Round Rock,TX aka HQ of DELL , I looked at my checking and asked her if wanted to go micro-vacation she told me NO . I said I need to get away from all the stress I am under and get new prospective I was trying to find my balance because I felt unbalanced and drained . we kissed each other bye and I made to San Antonio and to get some gas and food and my personal checking account bounced on me , came back on me I was denied it was 2 hours after that i got to San Antonio from Houston area . I was at McDonald’s and realized I was broke I was cleaned out ..I had credit balance 500 dollars or more on my personal side and i tried every credit card I had I think .. receive well my other story began I ran out of gas just under the under pass at one dell way under the highway I stalled their and one dell employee put 10 or 20 dollars in my tank I was thankful but after driving short distance wasn't enough to get me to back home I went to find the Dell Diamond ..then I ran out of gas at night by some homes ..and then I started to walk like Jesus and find someone to help me . I was desperate I went to walking to 7-11 and asked for job application I wanted to work In Round Rock to get some money . I had crazy idea’s after failed attempts I talked couple what happened to me and everything and I went walking to church for help just stay the night or anything it was Sunday night as I was about step on the crosswalk of the church the Round Rock Police pulled nearly arrested me . i told them what happen with me and took me my Chevy Tahoe , and the mental people checked me out for the County and said you are good to go not going Jail for the Night since you are small business owner from not our area . I was thankful the round rock county took me to Red Roof Inn and then I tried to call parents and KSBJ to let them pray for me I used Google 411 to make calls out area because it was source to talk to KSBJ prayer volunteer to for my safe return home I was KSBJ Special events volunteer and Share-A-Thon they knew me if i emailed them or anything well long story short I lost everything my Chevy Tahoe and nearly my business nearly went bankrupt but I am fighting that I want to share more but I need to write a book I am looking for someone to tell my whole story about my life , I was in mediation and i heard a voice say Write a book . I meditate every now and then I have found an Android app to help enter in God so close to hear loud as thunder and everything I know what his voice sounds like ..I want to finish this up my ending but I need to do other stuff . well my ending I had bitter-heart and nearly went back into the world and go back into all the wrong stuff , not drugs or anything just wrong people and everything . I tried to go back to church but it didn’t work . I ended up asking Jesus/God to break me down until the bare bone which I asked God to make life hell for me and He did because I asked I need to be broken so I can return back back my where , I had find my bottom my valley ..well 4 months ago I am God Broke me down I had no friends and everything was hell I was broke ..no Job or computer jobs or 2nd jobs to get by ….I had one of my medications Lithium nearly kill me . .it had poisoned my blood steam I was very sick , so sick ..after I realized it was medication I called my doctor told what was happening, throwing up ,stomach pains ,extreme migraines and it was hell . I was depressed and lonely and out of hope and grace I felt but I wasn’t God was close or nearby I didn’t see him or anything but something snapped in my brain I heard his voice say Fight for you life or Come back one of the two it isn’t your time yet I am not done with you yet i believe . I said OK lets fight for my life and I live with my parents at 29 because I lost everything I asked my dad to take me to the hospital he didn’t I begged and pleaded with him I was in no condition to drive to my Hospital ER in Sugar land for treatment I didn’t think of 911 and deal wit the police and EMS people and causing the whole street getting blocked off because of sickness I was dealing with ..so I went to bed and fought my demons and sickness and asked God to help me get out of sickness I was tired of being sick for 3 to 5 months at all at once .. well I asked I asked God in my room after listening to KSBJ.org I was doing anything to try to get back to God after 2 years being in the wildness I am back to God I am getting praise and thanksgiving every second I have with God .. God and Jesus and Holy Spirit ..I know the trinity .God is Love and God is grace and God is restore and many things ..I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me.. Not by might nor by power my but my by spirit says the the lord Almighty .. I have many verses on my heart they will come to me …. 2012 update here is my update I dated the wrong girlfriend she wasn’t Christian then i fell from grace after that months later I got Baptist at The 429 and made friends with wrong people and left church for awhile i didn’t even realize i was blind and isolated to the point I didn’t have any friends to say ..in the process i lost everything again my grandma’s car broke down and won’t turn over and i lost my 2nd business Digitalrao Solutions . A couple days ago i went to see one of my Christian friends at her Christian resale shop called by Faith and she was in bad shape but had positive outlook on where she was going and had faith of mustard seed i see God flowing out when we were talking , she said alot of things i been dealing with myself one thing i said i had doubt , then slowly God started to turn on the heat on me to point i was crying and asking for forgiveness and then i got invited couple weeks ago before that Go back to church with old jr high school friend and God was talking to me thru sunday and service . I did fall from Grace ..i wasn’t the best example but I have turn from my old ways . Got right with him .. well to continue my story i was getting hell from church members calling my business line at the time i just was start up with Digitalrao Solutions,dba maybe my 3 year as start up and then Dealing with G-watts BBQ Pit i was doing all kind programming and setup Comcast Business internet for him and then they got the wrong tablet for square i told them go get ipad they did i did more programming even paid for fake charities he had too ..one time i found the owner coming out of BBQ pit with red eyes he was doing some kind of drugs i caught him even partner too .. i asked do you gamble too then Micka forgot to pay my invoices they're protesting my invoices when i did 2 free jobs and then almost 3rd one ..then they hire a The Church volunteer member was volunteering lot with him i was made MVP once during winter times no one else couldn't handle Texas blue Norther's like me so i was only one doing traffic and setting up stuff to get attention of drivers then i was dealing dealing FBI/CIA/NSA even caught Spy Satellite in the sky on my horizon then falling off into distance because I called Obama out on what he is doing and i said i know what your planning to do ..i think you know who i am on twitter ..so i was being then i got a call from mexican women not saying where that they're going to kidnap me this was Mexican drug cartels after me too then my dad started to get bitter about me approved for cars left and right but kicked to the road and walking took me off insurance he just had big anger issue since i was apart of GOP Harris county Liberty Freedom Caucus he refused to take me GOP events or go so they fired me , then one of the Rosenberg Cops told me ya ur getting watched by cartels we see cars driving by i am not giving locations of cameras lol anyway then 2 days later i had panic mode fearing from everything around me that they might shoot up the place but then did something stupid ..later realized it was setting up for Success when i got to Group home my dad wouldnt let me come home , anyways i was in group home for 3 months then i didn't start to go back to Church of Living Waters until 6 or 8 th month because i was afraid of church who i would run into or accuse me again sometimes i run into accusers at Church of living waters they dont say anything to me . i am am slowly going back to Church of Living waters Darren Frank seen what i been thru sometimes i txt him too much , or quit anyways , Jimn Kyles had nothing to do with me but Pastor Darren Frank took me under his wings and protected me and even prophecy saying i will have no friends ya that is where i am at now . back the story I was going around town causing chaos when one time i went Mexican restaurant saying i did Youtube video of this place y'all are made here but they called the Police on me Kicked me out anyways the most famous restaurant located by the place now they're up for sale back to story i was saying Rosenberg Police Sargent called me criminal over my bipolar i finally gave up my secret i was one filing FBI IC3 reports they didn't know who it was ..then Assistant Police Chief got caught now facing charges anyways .. now i am giving member of Church of Living waters in Rosenberg ..i don’t give to buy out God i give to because i am generous giver, I got healed of Bipolar disorder in July ,2017 still going thru process dealing with Therapist and Family doctors that don't understand what happen to me . 2020 update my Pdoc at Texana took myself off Deproke , i haven’t had depression in 3 years so i am off my depression med , just taking 1 medication If Technical side like my Businesses use [email protected] until i can buy back my domains back ! i do need money to live ...I want to INC up ASAP .

#Bipolar Struggle healed

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auroreswritings · 5 years ago

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Chazuke for day 4! And obviously I had to do a rewrite because that’s just who I am as a person! Reimagining the story, Atsushi meets Chuuya instead of Dazai (but somehow doesn’t end up in the mafia because he’s just too pure and I can’t do that to him!! Chuuya can’t either)). The title is obviously based on the first episode of BSD~

There’s some fluffiness happening, the ending is kinda sad, but it’s like... Not angsty or whatever.

It ended up lot longer than originally planned (over 5,000 words), but I like what the story has become ^^ Hope you’ll like it as well!!

It’s on AO3!

Of the Impredictability and Mutability of Fortune

All he could think about was Chazuke. The sourness of the pickled plums. The saltiness of the slivered nori. The chewiness of the left over chicken from dinner. The fluffiness of the rice. All of it doused in piping-hot water and sprinkled with salted kelp. How much he enjoyed his nightly trips to the kitchen, sneaking about so no one would see him. He had made it some kind of ritual, preparing his bowls in the utmost silence, putting the ingredients in one by one, almost religiously. Atsushi’s mind was fixed on his memories of Chazuke bowls, his mouth watering as the ghosts of the food’s flavors were teasing his taste buds. His stomach produced the loudest growl he’d ever heard, bringing him back to reality.

He was standing in a dark alley in between warehouses, close to the harbor. He had been walking all day, trying desperately to find a bit of food, but none had come his way. If things kept like this, he would end up dying of hunger. He collapsed to the floor; his strength was leaving him slowly. Memories of his time at the orphanage were invading his mind: the yelling, the beating, the incessant humiliations. Screams of “Good-for-nothing!”, “Just die in a ditch!”, “No one will ever want you!” were bouncing around his head. He shook himself violently, erasing the voices slowly. Now that he was out of this place, he had to do his best to live and prove them all wrong!

But what could he do to get his hands on even just the smallest bit of rice to get in his stomach? Should he try to rob someone!? The thought had crossed his mind several times today, but he had shaken it away each time: being in a dire situation didn’t mean he had the rights to go against the law, and the poor person he would take their money from didn’t deserve to be robbed; who knew what they were going through themselves? However, this seemed like the only viable option left for him; he was getting desperate. He looked around but couldn’t spot a single soul. He stood up and walked down the alley, reaching a bigger paved road. He scanned the area in search of a victim. A beggar was sitting with his dog at the corner of a warehouse: definitely not someone Atsushi could get money from. A little farther up the street, two police officers were guarding the entrance to a high security building: that wasn’t an option either.

Atsushi let out a deep sigh and turned around. As he was just about to give up, he spotted a man a few meters away from him. He seemed quite small, was wearing a long black coat and a hat. Maybe he could try getting something out of him. The young man slowly approached the person, trying his hardest not to make a single noise. Just as he arrived behind the dark figure, he reached his hand out, targeting the coat’s left pocket. Before his fingers could caress the fabric, a strong hand grabbed his wrist forcefully and a powerful hit took the air out of his lungs. The man’s knee sent him flying up in the air before he collapsed on the floor, face first in the dirt. As he tried to breathe in again, Atsushi couldn’t help but think that this was it, this was the end.

Chuuya looked at the form lying in front of him. It was a young man with weirdly cut silver hair falling all over his face. He was wearing greyish rags; he almost looked like he had broken out of prison. A groan of pain left the man’s lips, his arms wrapping against his stomach, eyes looking back up at the Mafioso. Chuuya’s breath stopped in his throat: deep pools of purple and gold were fixing him, their shading mimicking the setting sun around them. He blinked a few times, trying to register what he was seeing. The young man was getting back up slowly, supporting his body as best he could on his knees and elbows. He coughed a couple times, eyes looking back at the floor. The disappearance of his gaze brought Chuuya back to reality.

“-Oi, boy, what were you trying to do there?” He tried to sound as annoyed as possible, hopefully hiding the flutter that had taken over his chest. It seemed to have worked as the other man replied with fear laced in his voice:

“-I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to attack y-you, it’s just-” Before he could finish his sentence, his stomach emitted yet another loud growl. He let himself collapse on the floor. “hmmmm I’m just so hungry…”

At these words, Chuuya let out a sigh. The deplorable sight of this young man was stirring something in him; he couldn’t really explain the feeling, but he felt the need to help the poor person in front of him. Another sigh left his lips as he stretched out his hand for the silver-haired man to grab.

“-Get up, boy, today’s your lucky day!”

This may have not been a good idea after all. Chuuya was watching the silver-haired man before him munching on his food, bowls after bowls of Chazuke piling up in front of him. It’s not that he lacked money or was tightfisted, Chazuke wasn’t expensive after all, but it looked like the young man was never going to stop shoving bowls down his throat, and as a mafia executive, he couldn’t afford to appear so generous, he had a status to uphold. He took a sip of his green tea, dark glare fixed at the young man in front of him.

“-You said you’re name was Nakajima Atsushi, right?” The younger man nodded.

“-Atshushi, yesh.” His mouth was full of rice. Chuuya closed his eyes, frustration sipping in his veins; how could he be so cute while doing something so disgusting! The Mafioso let out yet another sigh, his grip tightening around his tea cup. The clinging of chopsticks being put down and bowls pushed away called his attention back to the present. Atsushi was reclining on his chair, rubbing his stomach, a look of utter bliss taking over his face. Fourteen bowls were piled in front of him.

“-I’ve had enough Chazuke for the next ten years!” The tone in his voice was the happiest Chuuya had heard since he’d met him a few hours ago. He only hummed in response, not sure if he was amused or annoyed by what the man had just said. “I am really thankful, you know.” The tone in his voice changed, the atmosphere becoming a lot more serious. “Chuuya… you’ve just saved my life.” Their eyes met, both gaze locked into the others, unwavering.

Atsushi started explaining his story: how he had been kick out of the orphanage because of food shortages, how he had roamed around in search for shelter and food, how he had ended near the harbor’s warehouses, almost starved to death, and how he had decided to rob Chuuya in a last effort towards survival. The Mafioso couldn’t help but emphasize with Atsushi’s struggles: he too had a rather harsh life before joining the Port Mafia; he didn’t know his parents and didn’t have much clues on how he’d ended up being experimented on by the government or how he got his ability. Hearing the hardships the young man had to go through were pulling at Chuuya’s heartstrings: he wanted to protect this man, to make sure he wouldn’t have to suffer needlessly again. He couldn’t understand why he was feeling so strongly about this, but seeing the gentle smile on Atsushi’s lips was enough for him to take his decision: he would help this young man no matter what he needed.

After a lot of coaxing and arguing, Atsushi had finally agreed to spend the night at Chuuya’s. He hated to be so dependable on him right now, and he was starting to owe the man a little too much for his liking, but he didn’t have much of a choice: although he had told him about his story, he had left quite a big detail out of his retailing, the tiger. The beast had been chasing after him since the orphanage, and even though he wasn’t too pleased to stay with the red-head for the night, at least it would provide him with shelter away from the beast’s claws and fangs. As they entered Chuuya’s place, Atsushi couldn’t help but let out a yelp. It was a huge apartment, with a window wall on one side overlooking the city. The furniture looked expensive, the rugs even more pricy. The whole place looked so elegant, Atsushi didn’t know what to do with himself.

“-What did you say you’re job was again?

-I didn’t say anything. Now, come here, you can take the spare room close to the kitchen. There’s a bathroom attached to it.” Chuuya pointed at a door at one end of the living room, right next to the open kitchen. “I’ll get you some pajamas, just make yourself comfortable. If you’re hungry, there should be some food in the fridge or cupboards, feel free to have a look around. I have to leave early tomorrow so I probably won’t see you, but you can stay here as long as you need.” The red-head started walking up the stair leading up to the mezzanine.

Atsushi carefully walked to the door Chuuya had showed him and opened it, only passing his head through the small opening. The room was rather big, with large windows on one side. The bed was huge and seemed to be covered with silk sheets. Everything looked as expensive as the rest of the apartment. The young man didn’t know what to feel about this; on one hand he needed a place to stay and Chuuya had kindly offered his spare room, but on the other hand Atsushi felt completely out of place here, all this luxury was too much for him, what if he ended up dirtying something or even worse, breaking one of the ornaments; he would have to repay it one way or another! The weight of a hand on his shoulder made him jump.

“-Here you go, pajamas. Have a good night, Atsushi.” Chuuya shoved the clothes in the young man’s arms and left him standing there, unaware of the internal struggle he was suffering from.

Eventually, Atsushi entered his room; after all he had been through, maybe he deserved to indulge himself little. He would not come across such an opportunity again any time soon, so he just had to make the most of it for as long as it lasted. He took a long, hot shower, the water running down his skin melting away all tensions and stress. He stepped out of the bathroom with reddened skin, the soft glow of joy and sleepiness oozing from his entire being. The fabric of the pajamas was smooth against his skin, and as he slipped in the silky sheets of the bed, he could feel the comfortable hug of sleep surrounding him. He had never felt so satisfied in his entire life.

Chuuya woke up with a start. A quick glance at the clock by his bed told him it was certainly not a time to be awake. He turned around, trying to find a comfortable position when the noise of glass breaking echoed through the whole apartment. He shot out of bed and ran downstairs in nothing but his pajama bottoms. The sight he was met with stopped him halfway through the stairs: the glass coffee table in the living room was shattered, huge gapes were revealing the stuffing of the leather armchairs, the floor lamps were lying on the floor, all cables out, but most surprising of all, a huge white tiger was standing in the middle of his kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards.

Chuuya closed and opened his eyes a few times, trying to make sure this was really happening and he was not still dreaming in his bed. He walked down a couple more stairs. The tiger’s ears moved at the slight sound his feet made, but stayed with his head in the piece of furniture. The Mafioso jumped down the last few stairs remaining, making the tiger turn back for good. The feline recoiled, readying his body for a jump. Chuuya fixed him intently, his body already glowing red from his ability, waiting for the big cat to make his move. They looked into each other’s eyes for a while, and the red-head could swear he had seen this gold and lilac pattern before. The white beast didn’t give him much time to think about it as it pounced on him, all claws out and mouth wide open. Chuuya stood still, only stretching his arm in front of him. His fingers met the tip of the tiger’s nose, and before the animal could close its fangs on him or sink its claws in his skin, a red glow took over its body and slammed it on the floor forcefully. The tiger let out an angry roar: it couldn’t move anymore, intense gravity keeping it glued to the floor.

Chuuya let out a deep breath in relief and looked around to assess the damages, only now realizing the guest room’s door was missing. He ran to it, hoping the young man he had rescued earlier was still alive. He was met with another scene of chaos. The room was completely trashed, bed turned around, mattress destroyed, curtains and bedsheets ripped apart. The rest of the furniture was in the same state of disarray. The red-head looked around, looking for a sign of Atsushi, but found nothing, not even a trace of blood. Could it be…?

He stepped out of the room, coming back to the tiger. The creature was still on the floor, growling menacingly. Chuuya knelt down next to it; grabbing its head and meeting the animal’s furious gaze. Was this why he seemed to have recognized the tiger’s eyes earlier? Was this Atsushi? Chuuya gently called the man’s name. The tiger’s ears moved towards him as if he was setting all his attention on the red-head, his eyes were focused on Chuuya’s; the man could feel something human hiding in them, behind the beast’s anger. He softly patted the animal’s head, whispering Atsushi’s name from time to time, hoping this would calm him down a little. The creature stopped his angry growl, relaxing a little under Chuuya’s touch.

The man hummed to himself, trying to think of a solution. If this was really the young man he decided to help today, why didn’t he say a thing? Could it be that he didn’t know about his condition? He suddenly remembered a conversation he’d overheard at the Port Mafia’s headquarters: Mori had asked Akutagawa to search for a beast, a white tiger that was running havoc on the farmlands nearby; a rich client was ready to pay an extravagant sum of money to get their hands in the animal. Chuuya’s heart tightened in his chest; he couldn’t hand him over to the mafia. He shook his head at the thought: he was part of the mafia, why would he go against orders for someone he’d only met a few hours ago? His hand reached deeper into the tiger’s fur, scratching behind his ears. The beast relaxed more under his touch, letting out a loud purr as Chuuya’s finger were rubbing his head from side to side. He was still maintaining his ability’s grip on the beast, one was never too cautious, but he had diminished the force of attraction pulling him down, giving the tiger a little more freedom in his movements. He ended up resting his head on Chuuya’s lap, and the red-head eventually fell asleep there, his hand on the tiger’s head, forgetting all about the tug of war going on between his mind and his heart.

The sun rays were entering the room through the gaping holes in the curtains, softly shining over the carnage in Chuuya’s apartment. He blinked a few times; his back and legs hurt, he could feel pins and needles in his feet. His hand clutched around something soft and he turned his gaze down, only to realize it was resting in Atsushi’s hair. Said man was lying there sleeping, his head on the Mafioso’s lap. Events of the night came back to him, and it seemed that what he had speculated was true: Atsushi was the white tiger. He tried to move his legs to get some blood back into his feet, which only served to wake the younger man up. He propped himself on one elbow, looking around with a confused look. As his eyes fell on the disaster that was spreading across the room he jumped up, scared gaze frantically searching around.

“-Th-the tiger, it was here, wasn’t it? Where did it go? I have to leave before it finds me and eat me!” He kept on looking around, panicked. Chuuya let out a painful groan and stood up as well. He grabbed the other’s shoulders and shook him lightly.

“-Calm down, Atsushi, the tiger won’t eat you.” The silver-haired man looked at him nervously; he didn’t know if he could believe the man or not.

“-How can you be so sure!?” Chuuya took a deep breath in; he had to break out the news to him, and the faster the better.

-Because you are the tiger!” Atsushi looked at him for a few seconds, not a single expression visible on his face. He suddenly exploded into a nervous laughter, as if he had finally processed the words he’d just been told.

“-Thank you for trying to reassure me, Chuuya, but that’s not possible, that tiger has been chasing me since the orphanage, I would know if-

-Exactly! Don’t you find it weird that it had followed you since then?” Atsushi’s gaze turned to the floor, the gears in his brain visibly working as he was trying to process what was happening.

Chuuya, his hands still on his shoulders, turned him around and pushed him towards the sofa, sitting him on one of the small portions that hadn’t been touched by the tiger. He sat there as well, careful not to fall in the unstuffed hole in the middle of it. He cleared his throat and recounted to Atsushi the events of the previous night: how he had apparently devastated the whole apartment, how Chuuya had found him ransacking his kitchen, how he had managed to take him down. He purposefully left out the part when the Mafioso had ended up petting him to sleep, Atsushi didn’t need to know that. The younger man had his eyes fixed on his hands, a look of horror glued to his face.

“-So… What you’re saying is I’m the one who destroyed your place?” He could already see it, the bill he’d have to pay to reimburse Chuuya. How would he ever be able to gather that much money, he had no idea. The fact that he turned into a tiger at night didn’t seem to have reached his mind yet.

“-If you’re worrying about paying me off, don’t. We have more urgent problems to deal with right now.” Atsushi looked up at him, confusion on his face. “Let’s go out and get some breakfast, okay?”

Chuuya had lent some clothes to Atsushi; he couldn’t let him walk around in the rags he had kept from the orphanage. The young man was now wearing a simple white shirt with black trousers; he had insisted on adding a tie and other accessories to the mix, so he wouldn’t look to unsophisticated next to Chuuya. The red-head had been able to suppress the blush creeping up his cheeks at the comment and had let the tiger look around his drawers in search of anything he liked.

They were now walking around town in search for a place to have breakfast. Chuuya had called Mori to let him know he wouldn’t be able to come in today: a pipe had broken in his apartment and he had to replace most of the furniture there, he had to take care of that today. This excuse, as well as their outing for food, were just pretexts to get away from everything and have a little time to think of his next course of action. He needed to deal with this whole human-tiger problem, and fast. Atsushi’s excited voice brought him out of his reflection.

“-Chuuya, let’s go here, I’ve heard they have the best Chazuke in the area!” The red-head couldn’t help a frown to cross his face.

“-Chazuke again? Didn’t you say you’d had enough for ten years yesterday?

-But that was yesterday!” He grabbed the frowning man’s hand, pulling him towards the restaurant’s entrance. “Come on, let’s go!” Chuuya let out an amused sigh and let the other man pull him inside.

They spent the day out together, exploring the city. Chuuya often found himself staring a little too long at Atsushi, who was always giving a warm smile in return. The Mafioso ended up spoiling the other man a little, indulging him in all kinds of food and drink, even offering to buy him some new clothes, which the tiger had categorically refused: Chuuya was already spending way too much money on him, he couldn’t possibly accept to take any more. The red-head had eventually caved in; he could get some clothes for him another day, when he wasn’t around to scold him. They went back to Chuuya’s place as the sun was falling. The place was still as trashed as it had been in the morning, and reality came crashing back down onto the two men.

Chuuya couldn’t believe he had let himself get so distracted he hadn’t even spared a thought to that situation all day. What was he going to do with the tiger-man? Atsushi, on the other hand, couldn’t help the guilt gnawing at his mind: he couldn’t believe he really was the cause of all this destruction. How could he apologize to Chuuya properly? It was with grim looks on their faces that they went to bed that night; Chuuya insisted on having Atsushi in his room, to keep an eye on him, and the poor tiger could only accept, seeing it as they only way to avoid destroying the apartment more. They were now both upstairs, Chuuya in his own bed, Atsushi cuddled up in a few blankets on the floor.

“-So, Chuuya… You’re an ability user, right?” His voice was soft and sleepy, hardly soaring from under the covers.

“-Yes, I told you so, why?

-Are you part of the Armed Detective Agency?” His tone was sheepish, like a little child’s asking Santa for presents.

“-What? No! Why?” Chuuya couldn’t help the curt tone sipping in his voice.

-Oh nothing, I just thought… since you seemed really powerful, I thought you might be one of the detectives. I heard they would take on jobs even the police or military couldn’t handle, so if you managed to take care of the tiger with just one finger last night, it means you’re strong enough to be one of them…”

Chuuya didn’t know how to react to this: on one hand, Atsushi was complimenting him for his strength, which he couldn’t help but feel flustered about, but on the other hand, he was comparing him to those damn detectives… As if he was comparable to that stupid Dazai! He simply huffed and turned back in his bed.

“-Well, I’m not one of them.” Atsushi hummed in response, dropping the subject at the somewhat irritated tone he could hear in Chuuya’s voice. He fell asleep quickly after, the activities of that day weighing on his limbs, all the food he had eaten weighing on his stomach.

The tiger didn’t wake up that night. The next day, Chuuya had to leave Atsushi alone in his apartment; he couldn’t stay away from the mafia for too long, it’d be suspicious. The young man took this opportunity to clean up the red-head’s place as much as he could, gathering the pieces of glass scattered everywhere, putting away the stuffing of the sofa – he had tried to put it back in but it didn’t fit anymore – and setting the furniture in order as best he could. Of course, because of the damage, he realized most of it had to be changed, but he could at least make the rooms a little less messy, as a way to apologize to Chuuya.

A few more days went by like this, with Chuuya leaving in the morning and coming back at night, and Atsushi cleaning up the apartment; he had even taken upon himself to mend the curtains, a skill he had developed at the orphanage where he would often help the younger kids with holes in their clothes or favorite toys. The two men would eat dinner together, more often than not going out for Chazuke at Atsushi’s special request. The tiger didn’t make an appearance until the fourth night Atsushi had spent at Chuuya’s. Once again, the Mafioso had to use his ability to tame the beast, and once again he spent the night scratching his ears, keeping the tiger calm and purring on his lap. This time however, Chuuya couldn’t fall asleep. His mind was racing, ideas and thoughts bouncing around in his head, each of them contradicting the previous one. As time passed, one idea seemed to keep nudging at his mind more and more often.

The thought had been eating at Chuuya’s mind since Atsushi had first mentioned the Armed Detective Agency: if he wanted to keep him safe, he had to hand him over to them. He couldn’t possibly let the Port Mafia get their hands on him, and as much as he hated to admit it, the ADA was the only organization capable of rivaling with them. He had heard from Mori that the head of the Agency possessed an ability that would help Atsushi with his own, that would enable him to control the tiger inside of him. The more Chuuya thought about it, the more it seemed like the only viable choice he had. He had to make his move the next day; the faster the better.

Once again, Atsushi found himself in a dark alley close to the harbor. This time however, he wasn’t starving, and more importantly, he wasn’t alone. Chuuya had taken him here, saying he would introduce him to someone that could help him. They had taken a lot of detours to get where they were now, hiding from plain sight as much as possible; the tiger didn’t really know why, but the red-head had told him it was necessary, that they had to be careful, and he had trusted him. The sun was setting around them, casting its orange glow all over the city. Everything looked just like the day they had met, hardly a week ago.

As twilight was approaching, a tall silhouette appeared at the end of the street. The shadow walked to them, revealing a middle-aged man in a green kimono. His look was serious, almost stern. He got closer until he was facing the two younger men, eyeing the red-head severely.

“-You have requested a meeting, haven’t you?” Chuuya nodded.

“-Yes, I hope you kept your word and didn’t inform Mori of this.

-I am a man of my word.” The man took a quick glance at Atsushi, who hid a little behind Chuuya. He couldn’t help but feel intimidated by this person. “Is he the one you wanted to talk to me about?” Chuuya nodded once again.

“-He’s an ability user. A powerful one, at that. I want you to take him with you, to make him join your agency. I’m sure he wou-

-Why would I do this for a member of the mafia?” The man cut him unceremoniously. Chuuya cleared his throat. He was obviously annoyed, but had to keep calm, for Atsushi’s sake.

“-You’re gaining a strong ally, and now a mafia executive owes you a favor, I think you are benefiting a lot from this situation.

-And what’s in it for you then?” A frown accompanied those words.

-I just… I just want him to be safe, okay? He’s not the kind to do dirty jobs, and I won’t be able to protect him if he stays with me anyway. Fukuzawa…” Chuuya’s voice broke, but he quickly regained his composure. The tall man could see the distress in the Mafioso’s eyes. “You know what Mori is capable of, and the other ability users under him are no better. Myself included. I’m just trying to keep this kid away from all that. My only condition is that no mention of me helping him is ever made to any member of the mafia, is that clear?” His tone hardened as he said these last words. He knew he was in no position to threaten Fukuzawa, but he felt like a cornered prey under the older man’s strict gaze and he didn’t want to show any weakness in front of him.

Fukuzawa stayed silent for some time, deep in thoughts. Atsushi was still hiding behind the red-head, not sure what was going on. What were they talking about? What were these talks about the mafia? What agency was this man from? And who were these people they both seemed to know? One thing he did understand was that he was in a dangerous situation; he had no idea how he’d ended up there, but now it seemed like there was no escaping it. The taller man turned his gaze to him, locking eyes as if judging if he was worth anything. The tiger kept his head high, eyes unwavering despite the intensity of the man’s gaze. Fukuzawa eventually looked back to Chuuya, nodding his head subtly. The Mafioso understood the message and turned to Atsushi.

“-I think it’s time we say goodbye. Next time we’ll see each other, we’ll probably have to fight.

-Wait, what? I don’t understand-

-Atsushi!” The red-head cut him before he could ask anything. “Promise me you will take care of yourself.” The young man nodded. “Promise me you will fight your hardest to stay alive and safe, no matter what happens.” He nodded again. The concern and hurt in Chuuya’s eyes were unmissable. The red-head’s lips curled into a smile. “Promise me you will eat as much Chazuke as you possibly can, whenever you can.” Atsushi nodded again, letting out a small chuckle.

“-Of course, I will!”

“-Good. Now go, there’s a new family waiting for you.” Chuuya pushed him towards the tall man and turned around, standing straight, his shoulders tensed. He couldn’t help but question his decision. What if Mori was to learn he had betrayed the mafia and given over the man they were looking for to an enemy organization? He shook his head violently. It was too late now, and it was all for the good of this man he had ended up caring so profoundly for, without understanding the reason why.

Fukuzawa took Atsushi with him, walking down the street slowly. The tiger turned around a couple times, hoping to meet Chuuya’s ocean gaze one more time, but the Mafioso was stubbornly keeping his back from him.

The next time they would meet again, they would be fighting each other indeed.

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luminousalicorn · 6 years ago

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Y Couchinator

Crossposted to Less Wrong.

There are a lot of people - there are probably incredibly tragic mountains of people - who just need one or three or six no-pressure months on someone's couch, and meals during that time, and then they'd be okay. They'd spend this time catching up on their bureaucracy or recovering from abuse or getting training in a field they want to go into or all three. And then they'd be fine.

There are empty couches, whose owners throw away leftovers they didn't get around to eating every week, who aren't too introverted to have a roommate or too busy to help someone figure out their local subway system.

And while sometimes by serendipity these people manage to find each other and make a leap of trust and engage in couch commensalism a lot of the time they just don't. Because six months is a long time, a huge commitment for someone you haven't vetted, and a week wouldn't be enough to be worth the plane ticket, not enough to make a difference.

I think there might be a lot of gains to be had from disentangling the vetting and the hosting. People are comfortable with different levels of vetting, ranging from "they talked to me enough that it'd be an unusually high-effort scam" through "must be at least a friend of a friend of a friend" through "I have to have known them in person for months". And you can bootstrap through these.

Here's a toy example:

Joe barely makes ends meet somewhere out in flyover country but in between shifts at his retail job he's doing well at self-teaching programming and seems like he could pass App Academy.

Norm has a one-bedroom apartment in San Francisco and doesn't really need his couch to be empty, nor does he need to rent it out for money to someone desperate enough to pay rent on a couch, but he's not ready to give some dude on the internet a commitment to providing shelter for the duration of App Academy.

Tasha has a house somewhere in visiting distance of Norm, maybe even several different people like Norm, and she too has a couch, and is willing to host an internet dude for one week based on a sad blog post. During this week, Joe and Norm meet, and Tasha evaluates Joe's suitability as a guest, and Norm decides he can commit to have Joe as an occupant for the duration of App Academy.

My household has been informally couching (or bedrooming, as the case may be) itinerants for a while. Sometimes they get jobs and move out, or get jobs and don't move out. Sometimes they find other households they fit into better and move into those. Sometimes they wind up staying for a while and not really improving their prospects and going back whence they came; this is just the sort of thing that happens sometimes.

And I think more people could accommodate this fine from the hosting end, and just don't have the networking to find would-be couch occupants on a routine basis.

I propose a minimum viable product, low tech, Y Couchinator, to gauge demand and work out kinks before I try to make a technical person build me a website and expose us to liability and all that exciting stuff. Here's how I'm imagining it will work.

If you have a couch, you tell me about your couch. Is it available for a specific week in June for people you talk to for two hours first and like a lot? Is it available for one month to nonsmoking vegetarian afabs who your landlord might believe are your cousin? Is it available to anybody for any portion of the academic summer as long as they can walk your dog and don't seem inordinately sketchy to me when I hear about them? Is it available for six months if they can cover groceries and get a reference from somebody who has hosted them for at least a fortnight? Please be prepared to really maintain these boundaries when you need them even once you are presented with an actual couch occupant who has a sob story, even if it's a really sobsome story. We've never had a serious problem with this, but it's the sort of thing that could happen. (Of course, distinguish "not enforcing a boundary" from "liked person more than expected, happy to keep them longer than I committed to based on less information".)

If you need a couch, you tell me about your couch needs. Does it have to actually be a bed, not a couch? Do you need to bring your gerbil? Are you deathly allergic to peanuts/children/cats/country music/Brutalist architecture? And you tell me about your plans for your couch time. This is a somewhat constrained offer, so there do have to be plans. I want to match people whose couch needs are plausibly likely to be self-limiting and don't come with a need for cash in particular, at least unless I find that there are many more couches than occupants under this condition. Do you have a prospect for getting some kind of job as long as you can park in the right city for a while to attend interviews? Do you have a plan for some kind of job training, like the example of App Academy or something less classic? Are you pretty employable already but only when you have your mental health under control, and just need some time not relying on your parents for survival in order to get there?

I collect couch needers and couch havers. I match people who can be straightforwardly matched, and I do my best to line up dominoes when several couches have to be strung together ("Bill, you can stay with Haley for a week, and she'll introduce you to Penelope, and if Penelope likes you you can stay with her for three months, and if Penelope doesn't feel comfortable with that then Wilbur is willing to subsidize you in REACH for a week and a half until Leroy's place opens up, which is yours for two months as long as you do dishes and sometimes give him rides to the airport").

I want to emphasize here that there do exist people who have couches they would be willing to offer. This came up in a Discord chat and two people I didn’t even know about before mentioned that under certain constraints they could offer couches. My own household (which currently contains three different people who have at different times lived with us, paid no rent, and stayed on to the present day, and that's if you don't count my toddler) can fit people short-term, medium if we really click.

How to get ahold of me: You can put out initial feelers via Tumblr ask (I will assume this post is not getting enough circulation until at least 3 depressed anons have wondered at me whether they really deserve couches) but it is a bad way to do anything long form. My email address is alicorn at elcenia (dot com). If you share any Discord servers with me, Discord works great too.

#who told you I had a life

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acklest · 6 years ago

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Time for a rant

It’s about time we stopped this “you’re not as valid or successful if you didn’t go to college” bullshit. This attitude is practically quaint, and I’m gonna tell you why.

It’s okay to go to a community college.

It’s okay to go to a vocational school.

It’s okay to get into an apprenticeship situation where a professional trains you to work in a specific trade. In fact, we need to get back to that system.

It’s okay to get specific certifications for the field you’re interested in.

It’s okay to be self-educated. That’s what I had to do. After years of food service, phone banks, retail, clerical work, and various temp assignments, I was able to secure a decent-paying job that put food on the table. But it took me well into my 30s to get there. For the first time in my life, I had health insurance (lolol America). Now my husband is disabled and I support us. I’m extremely privileged to be able to do that.

It’s okay to be someone who dutifully works a job and then just goes home. If you’re happy enough, if you have what you need, who gives a shit? Learn from my bad example: Don’t define yourself solely by your job and how flattering it might be that your manager depends on you. it’s just a job. The days of working somewhere for 20 years and collecting a pension are a thing of the past. A corporation isn’t going to be loyal to you, so don’t be loyal to them. If you see a better opportunity, take it. At the first sign of danger to the bottom line, the corporation will put you up against the wall. They may even feel apologetic about it. But you don’t owe them shit, so be a mercenary.

Here’s how I got my first job: At age 16, as a legally-emancipated minor, I walked into a McDonald’s without an appointment. I was given a paper application. I sat at one of the booths and filled it out, then handed it to a manager, who interviewed me a few minutes later. Because I was able to deal with a human being, I was able to make a personal appeal to prove I was motivated. By the following Monday, I had a job there and was scheduled to work 30 hours a week. Was I anything special? No. I was a traumatized teenage dropout who barely had a GED via a correspondence course who had three roommates in a shitty apartment, where I was about to be kicked out if I couldn’t chip in my share of the rent, groceries and utilities. Were my answers somehow more persuasive than someone else’s would’ve been? I seriously doubt it. It was the human aspect that made it work.

This doesn’t happen anymore.

Here’s how it works now: You see a “now hiring” sign in a company’s window that instructs you to go to their website and submit an application, where countless others will join you. An algorithm scans your resume for a predefined set of keywords that no one bothered to tell you. You may have already lost any chance at the gig, and not only was no human being involved in that decision, but you have no way of knowing if you’re still in consideration. If you make the first cut, you might get a perfunctory interview where a distracted manager asks you some rote questions that they printed out, who only half-listens to your answers unless you drop one of those keywords. This manager will mark you off the list for almost any superficial reason, because they know there are dozens or hundreds of others who are also vying for the same gig. If you make that cut, you’re presented with the job as if it’s an amazing gift. And then you’re expected to give $20/hours’ worth of effort for a $7.25/hour job, or they’ll just go out on the street, throw a stick, and hit a person who’s probably just as desperate for work. On top of that, some of these jobs will expect you to have a bachelors’ degree and immediately exclude you if you don’t.

I lost a receptionist gig because I didn’t have a bachelor’s degree. A receptionist gig. “Thank God I have that Communications degree or I would NOT know how to answer these phones.”

(Don’t even get me started on unpaid internships. If you get some college credits out of it, fine. “It’ll give you something to put on your resumé” is the same as “we’ll pay you in exposure.”)

How can anyone, unless they have grants/scholarships, or a financially-secure family that’s willing to help them out, afford college without going into crippling financial debt? Spoiler alert: Most of them can’t. Back when I was being encouraged to go to college, when it was quite a bit cheaper than it is now, there was never going to be any way I could afford it. The prices have only skyrocketed since then. But here’s the gist of the problem: Millennials are being pressured into getting college degrees, and the college is so prohibitively expensive that most of them are going to be in debt well into their 30s. Oh, by the way, the book for only one of your classes is $150. The one you bought used is the previous edition. It’s all a big shakedown.

If you were able to go to college without working a part- or full-time job on the side, without going into crushing debt, have the decency to admit that you’re one of the privileged few. I’m not saying you didn’t work your ass off to get there and to get your degree. I’m saying that the experience is no longer typical, and for most people in the current generation, not viable.

That’s why I don’t have much tolerance for the whole “lol Millennials/Generation Z haha so dumb” thing that a lot of people in my generation have. AMERICA IS NOT THE SAME CULTURE OR ECONOMY THAT IT WAS, so we can’t judge the current generation by those factors. Technology has changed everything. Corporations have gotten more cold-blooded. Everything is more expensive. The banks are fucking everyone in the ass without even offering to buy dinner first. It sucks and people are out there like “you just need to get a STEM degree.” Are you gonna pay for it, Grandpa?

My son is a millennial. He still lives at home. Most of his friends still live at home. He’s getting a programming certification, and he’s only able to do that because we’re lucky enough to be able to help him pay for the individual courses. All of his friends are in the same boat, working part-time jobs, and in some cases, helping their parents pay the bills. But they’re sneered at by the previous generations because they’re being judged by a standard that’s no long valid. “Where’s your house? Why aren’t you investing in a money market portfolio? Where are your 2.5 kids? You should travel more, see the world. Why are you killing the [blank] industry?” Fuck off.

What we really need is a revolution. This is getting out of hand. We shouldn’t have almost an entire generation that’s struggling this hard. It means things are out of whack. It means there are problems we need to fix.

When I was growing up, a person who worked an entry-level construction gig and another person who worked as a Wal-Mart checker could, in their mid-20s, conceivably buy a small first home and consider starting a family.

Now, we have people who can barely afford to pay rent even though they have three roommates (and the more roommates you have, the more statistically likely it is that you want to bury one of them in the woods), forced to make horrible decisions like “Well, if I eat only one larger meal in the middle of the day, and then go to bed before I start to feel hungry, I can pay rent this month.” I’d move back home, too.

Just because someone is selling you a Big Mac and you have a degree does not make you better than them. Better educated? Sure. But a better person? No. Go fuck yourself.

People have their own baggage, demons, and challenges to get through. They don’t need judgmental fuckery on top of everything else. Assume that everyone you meet is doing the best they can to muddle through. It’s that general “try not to be an asshole” thing.

All I have is a GED and a give ‘em hell attitude and some coding books I read, and through sheer luck, a few years of established work experience that might open the door to some better job down the line. But I still get that little patronizing “oh” when someone finds out I don’t have a degree. I dare anyone, on any day of the week, to tell me I’m stupid because I didn’t go to college.

A good place to store that elitist attitude is directly up your ass.

Get it up there nice and snug, too.

Anyway, I probably went off track several times and it’s after 2AM so it’s entirely possible that parts of this don’t make sense. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. (Do people still say that? I’m old.)

#generation z #millennials #college #rant #this started out being a rant about people thinking dean winchester is stupid #and morphed into this #how does this keep happening to me?

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nyruratchet · 6 years ago

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Notes: 1 - Two Things (again)

Well, I’m back to trying this blog thing. I started this blog after college to share how my life was going/changing and my struggle with homosexuality. I remember having big dreams when I packed ONE suitcase and made my move to the bronx with no money, no job, etc.

I hit the streets everyday I could, to audition and submit resumes (I had no money, so had to sometimes chose between taking the subway or buying food from McDonald’s dollar menu, (EVERYTHING was a dollar on that menu at the time.) In between auditions, I would walk down Broadway dreaming about one day performing on those stages. I would spend time in COLONY music honing my sight-reading trying to make sure I didn’t lose what little skill I had acquired while completing my music minor (I eventually lost it). Then when it started getting dark unsafe to hang in the parks, I’d head home. Once, a guy even tried to rob me when I was walking home from the 2 train on Gun Hill road; But I had NOTHING. So, he let me go.

In the midst of all this, I tried to have sex. But, I didn’t have a smart phone in the big city so it was honestly hard to get anyone’s attention. And when I did, they were horrible experiences. I had a hook-up with this guy and when I got tested a month later, I found out he gave me an STI. But, I had done everything right?! Condoms, no swallowing, no drugs, etc. Then after I was treated and I told him that he infected me, his response was “Don’t bother me with that; that’s YOUR problem.” I should have known RIGHT then no one could ever be trusted.

A couple years passed and I had ran through my savings and the little xmas money my parents gave me. I HAD to find a job. Desperate, I went on craigslist applying to shady “help wanted” ads. Of course, there were guys soliciting me for sex, drugs, “modeling”, “personal” assistant work... Right when I was about to consider selling my ass for cash on RentBoy, a small company looking to open a retail pop-up in Times Square messaged me for an interview. I got my first job. There was now a light in this very long tunnel. I was thankful for anything, I couldn’t sleep amongst mice and roaches any longer.

Since then, I have had several retail jobs that I held down while auditioning, writing, and recording. After years on the grind...I couldn’t do it anymore. I had got my foot in the door company managing off-broadway shows. But after being mistreated by one of the theater managers, I realized I was not supposed to be here, in this place, at this moment. So, without any real plan, I quit. There’s more to that story but I digress.

Again, I found myself without health care, without money, on unemployment but getting side work where I could ushering for Broadway shows. It was literal torture having to watch these performers every night KNOWING I was every bit as talented as them, but could not get out of this space I was in. But, destitute, about to be cut off of unemployment, needing to pay rent, I applied to become a Flight Attendant. In hindsight, I can’t blame myself for doing it. Growing up, I was always taught to do what you had to survive. There were times when we had to share a bed (me, my mom, and sister), sleep on the grandmother’s couch, sleep backstage in the auditorium at school...my life is not what people think it is. So when I saw a chance to have a bit of security, I jumped at it. But now, I’m living a half-life. I don’t want to get up anymore. What I do for work brings NO joy to me. But, the benefits are more than I’ve ever had. Knowing I couldn’t live like this, last year I took a chance and put myself out there for studio work. And someone actually likes my writing!! Problem, it takes money to do studio work. I’ve offered to sing on artists tracks for free just to get free studio time; but the music business is just not what it used to be. So, I work and work hoping to save enough money to get my next single done.

But here goes “God”. Worked my ass off Christmas, but my company decides not to pay me for the promised hours I’m supposed to have. Had a hook up with a guy on grindr. I go to the bathroom and come back to walk him out afterwards; I notice my credit cards are missing and cash I had left poorly hidden was stolen. Then my car gets towed...again. (No, it wasn’t a tow away zone this time. They should have just put a ticket on my car; but I digress. The City does WHATEVER they want.) After racing to work, I notice my practically new tire keeps going flat and I have to get it repaired. Another hundred bucks. My phone keeps cutting itself off, so I was saving to get a new phone (I’ve had mine for YEARS). I recorded a new single (actually 2...) and paid for these industry known producers. Well, come to find out...they do BAD BUSINESS. basically, I’lll have to pay them another $500 before they will finish my song...I’ve already had 2 sessions with them and they are holding my stems.

And the newest situation, my $2000 cashier’s check (which is how I’ve been paying, on time, for like 6 years) gets lost in the mail. For anyone who doesn’t know, in order to get a cashier’s check replaced, you have to wait 90 days. Yes, YOUR money, YOUR bank...but you can’t get the check stopped and replaced until its been missing for 90 fucking days! Naturally, its not my landlord’s fault. So, he’s expecting his money. And I don’t make that much money to simply shell out another 2K, so...here I am praying that I don’t get in trouble for the post office losing my check. Also praying my phone holds on for dear life until I can afford a new one.

So, I’m stuck. Have cried so much the last month. My love life has more to do with that...I’ll write about that next time though. Honestly, if I could abandon this job, abandon NY, live a simple life while making music people WANT to hear, and sharing a life with someone I’m head over heels with, I would do it in a heartbeat. But every time I try to make a change or work to get myself out of a hole, I get dragged right back down.

I’ve only ever wanted two things from life. Love & singing. Don’t need a big house, fancy car, billions in the bank, tons of people around me, tons of clothes, no. Never. Just wanted to be happy. Just gimme a stage and a man who loves me. That’s all I need.

#blog #blogger #life #music

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haltquirk · 6 years ago

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It’s something you don’t comprehend from a young age, a distance between yourself and others that you recognize but fail to comprehend. Your parents name you, but the sound of that name twist your gut in discomfort- it’s ill fitting, same as the dresses they sometimes give you to wear or the words they use to address you.

Bringing up the discomfort earns you nothing but harsh words, something you’re all too accustomed to by now. It’s tough love, they say, with more of an emphasis on the tough rather than the love. Your parents address you with kindness only rarely, and those rare occasions drop to none when your Quirk manifests and their disdain for you turns to loathing.

If there was a word for it, that deep sense of wrongness you feel, you’d never heard it, and you wouldn’t for several years yet. For now you obscure it beneath dark, baggy layers of clothing and a careful neutrality. It’s easy, when you hold everyone at arm’s length- ‘Aizawa,’ you insist. ‘Don’t call me by my given name. Call me Aizawa.’

You give yourself a new name in middle school, a safe distance from the one your parents threw at you, and write the characters of it only in a journal that (you hope) they’ll never see. Shouta, you remind yourself every time the sound of your given name rings in your ears. I am Shouta. There’s nobody to call you by this name, but clutching it close to your heart buys you a few moments of warmth in the unbearable chill that clings to you.

It clings to you like the new layers of fat that gather at your hips and chest. Your clothes become darker and baggier, hiding this betrayal from those around you. Your voice deepens, but it doesn’t deepen enough, not like the other boys in your grade. It’s only by chance that you learn the vocabulary for what you feel- dysphoria, transgender. Your efficient, clinical mind wastes little time grappling with the ramifications of understanding. These words match your feelings, almost eerily so, and there’s no need to dance around this discovery. At the same time, though... who would you tell?

Nobody. Not until you go to high school. For the first several months all you feel is the crushing guilt of failure, your inability to join the hero course that you so desperately wanted to. Your second chance comes and you seize it with both hands, and surprisingly, it earns you admiration, the kind you aren’t accustomed to. The boy who attaches himself to you is called Hizashi, and the girl who joins and apologizes for him is Nemuri.

‘I’m not here to make friends.’ That’s what you told yourself, and it’s what you told them. Friends come with too much discomfort, too much responsibility, too much risk...

They insist, of course. You aren’t in the habit of lying, and so it isn’t long after you learn to accept their overtures that you tell them. ‘My name is Shouta.’ Saying those words aloud, in the hearing of another human being, feels both like releasing a breath you’ve been holding in for too long and like inhaling to hold another.

The fear doesn’t last long. Hizashi’s face splits into that all too familiar grin, while Nemuri rests a comforting hand on your shoulder. Things are different, after that. You have help- you aren’t alone in a home that refuses to accept any aspect of your being. There are a myriad of offers- would you like to cut your hair? Do you need better fitting clothes? A binder? The answer is no to all of these- you like your hair, your clothes are fine, you already have one, but thank you.

Their support means it doesn’t feel so much like a mistake when the words spill from his lips, a smack in the face to his parents as they watch him with varying degrees of anger, shame, embarrassment, grief. It’s a fight to convince them to let you pack a bag, but you manage in the end, bringing as much as you can carry fit before turning your back on that home.

Two years crawl by, painfully slow, but freer than you ever thought you could feel. There’s fear, of course, and rightfully so. The people you meet on the streets aren’t always good people. There isn’t always a place for you to sleep- Hizashi and Nemuri offer often, but you try to hide the full story from them, and you refuse to depend on two people who have already given you so much. You learn a new vocabulary, a way to defend yourself, both acknowledging and denying the atrocities that surround you, seep in through the cracks of your walls.

You get a job at some ramshackle convenience store. You save up. When you’re old enough to do so, you put money down on an apartment. The new home you’ve made is bare, empty of everything but the essentials, and at first even missing a few of those, but it’s better than nothing. You would know.

Graduating supplements your income with the hero work you’re now allowed to do. You can save up for more things- you start taking hormone replacement treatment, tolerating the teasing from your friends as your voice cracks and breaks and steadily drops. The damage to your lungs can’t be undone, not after so many years of binding so much, but at least you halt it when you scrounge together the money for top surgery. Those are two scars that you’re proud to display, even though you know there’s some embarrassing video of you out there, high on pain medication and responding to Hizashi’s nonsense in kind.

You’re normal now, in most ways. Hero work gives you enough stability to leave the retail job you’d been suffering under. You might even dare to say you’re thriving. Nemuri’s insistence that you join her in a teaching position isn’t nearly as terrifying as it could have been, and you accept it, though how she convinced you is a mystery. The freedom here surprises you as well.

There is no question- not from the students, not from the ones who don’t know you from before. Those among the staff who recognize you offer nothing but congratulations, and though it isn’t said out loud, the way they say your name makes you think it’s for more than just your new job.

When you notice glimpses of yourself in your students, you find the words to say, ones you wished you’d been able to hear sooner. You learn their names, their real names, not the ones they wish to bury. You teach them your language, defend them from the language of others, rewrite your childhood.

Your name is Shouta. When you ask people to call you Aizawa, it isn’t out of an ulterior motive, not anymore. Those who ignore this request... you suppose you can tolerate it. Even after so many years, that name still makes you warm.

#Reflecting one's true character. (headcanons)

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rametarin · 4 years ago

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Petty, vindictive bitch.

Every so often I think about the thousands of dollars my mother has extorted from me since I was born, just in the form of birthday cards from grandma and grandpa.

Then the graduation gift from grandma and grandpa of $2,000.

Then the $1300 someodd I made from working that shitty under-the-table job in my teen years, that I hoped would net me enough for a car but turned out to be a lame duck job that was just the lowest hanging branch on the tree. Thanks dad&dad’s girlfriend. You helped a lot.

Well. She has always, always hated ME having money that she couldn’t take from me, or control in some way. So, when I tried to use MY money to buy MYself a computer, she intervened.

She offered to pay a dollar for dollar when I was 17 ansd trying to buy myself a desktop. I didn’t have a credit card yet, and basically she was just as controlling and oppressive financially as now- she just had the added benefit of doing it to a minor.

Anyway, buying and assembling a computer was out of the question. She would not allow me to order parts and let them arrive at the post office box/by mail. So, I had to get something retail, or not get anything at all.

So, I get a computer at best buy. And I’m thinking, this is it. Finally. I’ll be able to play with a desktop in my room. I’ll be able to study in private. No more sharing space, no more sharing the computer, no more of that selfish fucking cow just throwing me off the computer because she feels like it, just for arbitrary turn-taking.

And on the way home, in the car, she announces that she’s “so glad I helped buy a new FAMILY computer.”

And right then, I realized, I’d been suckered into basically donating two years worth of income so that FUCKING monster could continue to vindictively dictate when and how I could be on the computer. She just had to have that upper hand. She just had to have that legal possession of that thing I worked that shit job, under the table, for so long, so hard. She just had to be able to bar me from it just to keep control over me, by proxy of control over my environment and the possessions I could use.

And it was then that I knew I conservatively guessed right. That this exact scenario was exactly how she intended to treat my possession of a car. She proved my suspicions completely right when she did this. That she wanted me to buy the family a car (or rather, funnel her the money so “we” could buy a car while I was a minor- and keep possession of it in her legal name, to let me “use” it, when she decreed was okay.), be subject to The Family (her)’s needs in its use, and basically just be a chaffeur that pays her to drive her car for her.

I was so fucking mad, you can’t even understand. She was confirming to me what I suspected but was ambiguous. Because women have this thing about them. The power to sit in ambiguity and get the benefit of the doubt UNTIL they expose themselves. Only then are you allowed, socially, to think the worst of them. And even then, they can pull the, “Oh I was so very stressed and desperate at the time that’s not the real me :^(” shit.

I’d worked for two fucking summers because she’d spent literal years leading up to that carrot-on-a-sticking me with witholding funds for anything, and then being like, “WHEN YOU’RE WORKING YOU CAN BUY ALL THE CRAP YOU WANT! UNTIL THEN, NO!” So all finances were cut off to non-essentials, except what she wanted to buy for me to have, when she wanted to buy it. I was promised financial freedom to go with the burden of having no money from my family.

I thought that was fair. My family wasn’t going to support me for anything beyond not even basic, but rudimentary and minimalist necessities? Fine. But my family also was going to get similar from me.

Come to find out that disgusting cunt thought MY money was, “our money.”

Okay, I thought, that must mean I get some say in the “family financing.” Since, y’know, it’s FAMILY financing.

No, I was told, “YOU DON’T TELL ME HOW TO SPEND MY MONEY!”

So the scenario she painted and I learned to read by examining the negative spaces and dead ends (because god forbid she take the responsibility of laying out what “family finances” really entailed, where mine began and hers ended) was shown to just be her being a petty, vindictive, negligent, extortionist. Money exchange within the family was completely for HER convenience and deliberately done to inconvenience and control me by the absence of agency.

If she couldn’t control her son by rules and demands that required compliance, she’d simply control the purse strings to cow obedience and compliance and cut me off if I said no. Or threaten me with police. She’d simply justify taking away any money I produced and then threaten financial and environmental abandonment/using the state to remove me, unless I complied.

In deciding to do this she made it financially impossible to use the family to my advantage. In any capacity. She inadvertently laid bare that she expected to retain absolute control over me via controling my finances and access to anything. There would be no time to utilize any resource, there’d be no hiding anything in my taxes from her, and if she found I had anything that wasn’t accounted for, then would come the pressure to take it from me (if she was aware of it) or kick me out of the house.

It stopped being a ‘family’ at this point and revealed itself to just be a prison and a slave owning household with a fancy label. ‘The Family’ as a laughable entity only existed to make me work, cover only my necessary expenses like uninsured medical and dental problems myself, while any dollar that wasn’t spent keeping myself from dying or paying off a family car would be misappropriated and used by that psychotic, selfish bitch.

And if I didn’t like it, I could fucking move out. With no credit, no savings, existing health conditions I still haven’t been able to diagnose, no property in my name, nowhere to go and no security whatsoever.

She effectively wanted me to spend the time it’d take to pay off a car, giving her access to the vehicle, maintaining the vehicle under my own finances, shoveling her snow, doing this, doing that, until I could GRADUATE to being homeless and maybe allow me to keep the car I’d paid for, “because she’s nice.” The singular advantage would’ve been a beat up old shitbox she’d spent years driving into the ground (and she is notoriously hard on her vehicles)

And I just can’t think of a more hateful, premeditated and manipulative way to deliberately set someone up to be used and then abandoned, while minimizing any advantage they have, specifically to destroy them when you set them free.

A lot of people just go through the motions of being a parent, but she couldn’t even do that. Parenting to her was about expressing her petty desire for control and then making sure if you didn’t obey, the punishment was gravity. I just cannot imagine her motivation was anything other than somewhere between malicious spite and selfish, uncaring greed. If she was only just a bit less stable, I think she would’ve tried to kill me and get away with it. But she’s more cautious than that. She did nothing that could really implicate her beyond the ambiguous “she’s probably just a stupid bird brain bitch” thing.

Every single avenue as a mother she could’ve done to fuck my future up without making it wholly look like it was specifically for that, she took.

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years ago

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LIKE OPEN SOURCE, I DON'T THINK WE CAN GET MUCH MORE SPECIFIC WITHOUT STARTING TO BE MISTAKEN

Palo Alto, the original ground zero, is about thirty miles away, and the average level of what they're writing, as you might develop muscles, through exercise. I desperately needed on stuff that I didn't. That was a big problem for me when I had no idea what that meant until I did it.1 94 x 1. Our fathers weren't that stupid. In another year you'll be making $4. More precisely, the hypothesis was that success in a startup, we would never have taken funding from an incubator. Then I'm worried. Kids are less perceptive. If investors get too involved, they smother one of the commonest forms of corruption.2 We may not be as corrupt as it seems; those VPs' cushy jobs were probably payment for work done earlier.3 But what is a novelist to do?4

43, meaning that deal is worth taking if they can improve your average outcome for you to break even? That way we can avoid being discontented about being discontented. Just ask any teenager. In some countries this is the result of a deliberate policy. Our ancestors were giants. A country that got immigration right would have a huge advantage. Y Combinator offers to fund you in return for 6% of your company if what you trade it for improves your average outcome by more than 6.

Google is a better model. 167. The basic idea behind office hours is that the cycle is slow. But aside from that, I now actively avoid stuff. No, it turns out, the earth is not the center of the solar system. Most successful startups make that tradeoff unconsciously. But the problem is more than just that some startup might have a problem to explain: why are unions shrinking now? And it's not just that I accumulated all this useless stuff, but that they lack examples. As you've probably noticed, they have a lot in common. One thing we were curious about this summer was a spirit of independence.5

The whole summer was full of surprises. Since this is in effect the company's profit on a hire, the market will determine that: if you're a founder, here's a deal you can make with yourself that will both make you happy and make your company successful.6 In industrialized countries the same thing; if you win an Olympic gold medal, you can be fairly content, even if they never actually got the money. It's significant that the most famous recent startup in Europe, Skype, worked on a problem that was intrinsically international. Silicon Valley is too far from San Francisco. Every person has to do their job well. And he could help them because he was too young. We overvalue stuff.

Next time you're in a moderately large city, drop by the main post office and watch the body language of the office is replaced by wicked humor. As in software, when professionals produce such crap, it's not saying much that America is the perfect place for startups.7 In our case the distinguishing feature is the ability to reason. For example, suppose you're saving a piece of cake in the fridge, and you come home one day to find your housemate has eaten it. As Galbraith said, politics is a matter of choosing between the unpalatable and the disastrous. This turns out not to be the growing gap between them. So difficult that there's probably room to discard more. If you don't have to buy a drink, and they pay it to the big company.

I think one of the founders said I'd read that starting a startup molds you into someone who can handle it. People whose work is to ask yourself, before buying something, is this going to make my life noticeably better? But my main conclusion from the summer is that there's less room for people in a company financed by selling a VW bus and an HP calculator. Amateurs I think the big obstacle preventing us from seeing the future of business is the assumption that it's all about us. Lately companies have been paying more attention to open source. This works in America, at least in technology. Even in the US, and good high schools and bad universities, like the US, the most efficient plan would be to discover each person's station as early as possible, so they have to deliver every time. When I say business can learn about new conditions the same way a gene pool does.

The Germans invented the modern university, and up till the 1930s theirs were the best in America, because the remaining. A sinecure is, in the long run, of the forces underlying open source and blogging both work bottom-up often works better than top-down. So let's look at Silicon Valley the way you'd look at a product made by a competitor. Users don't switch from Explorer to Firefox because they want to win.8 Startups happen in clusters. If I want to spend money on some kind of zenlike detachment from material things. Gradually it will re-emerge.

More precisely, the hypothesis was that success in a startup depends mainly on how smart and energetic you are, and much less on how old you are or how much business experience you have. For example, the president notices that a majority of voters now think invading Iraq was a mistake, so he makes an address to the nation to drum up support.9 Except books—but books are different. Half the people there speak with accents. A more important source, because it's more personal and comes earlier in the process, is money from individual angel investors. We worry about that, but probably hurts. Basically, unions were just Razorfish.

Notes

Nat. For example, the work of selection. Though most VCs are only partially driven by people like them—people who get rich by preserving their traditional culture; maybe people in Bolivia don't want to believe that successful founders is exaggerated now because of some brilliant initial idea. For example, probably did more drugs in his twenties than any of his professors did in salary.

I realize a I have no idea whether this happens because they're determined to fight. No central goverment would put its two best universities in the aggregate are overpaid. This essay was written before Firefox.

The threshold for participating goes down to zero. I've become a function of the reasons startups are possible. Macros very close to 18% of GDP, despite dramatic changes in tax rates will tend to focus on building the company down. I'm not saying all founders who continued to live in a reorganization.

But the time it included what we now call science. 32. This seems to set aside for this is mainly due to fixing old bugs, and partly simple ignorance. Ironically, one could aspire to the year, but simply because he was a sudden rush of interest, you can't tell you that if you have 8 months of runway or less constant during the entire period from the example of a rolling close is to protect against truly determined attackers.

They don't know enough about the subterfuges they had first claim on the parental dole, and the editor written in C, which handled orders. Why Startups Condense in America. The two are not more startups to be low. This is a negotiation.

But it's useful to consider behaving the opposite way from the moment the time it filters down to you. In any case, as on a form that asks for your middle initial—because it aggregates data from so many others the pattern for the first type, and help keep the number of big corporations.

In a series.

On the face of a running back doesn't translate to soccer. There's not much to generalize. As far as such things can be and still provide a profitable market for a sufficiently good bet, why are you even be working on some project of your last round of funding.

It seems likely that in three months we can't figure out what the rule of law. Its retail price is about 220,000 sestertii for his freedom Dessau, Inscriptiones 7812. And maybe we should work like casual conversation.

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ledenews · 4 years ago

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Kris Galmarini: Channeling a Free Spirit

The youngest of three children, Kris (Warfield) Galmarini has always been a bit of a free spirit. Growing up in Wheeling during the late 90s, she had a penchant for music and creativity, but also adventure. Going with the flow and conforming are not in her wheelhouse. She met young Bob Galmarini at a Young Life retreat while in high school. She felt a strong connection early. Naturally, Bob hailed from Cleveland. Far from ideal, but they managed to stay in contact via letters and phone calls. While her friends gathered at the lunch table, gabbing about the day’s events, Kris stood in the hallway by the pay phones, talking to the man who one day would become her husband. Why? She had a feeling. And when Kris gets a strong feeling, she runs with it. It’s character trait that’s served her well throughout her life. She graduated from Cal-State Northridge in 2003 with a double major in business and music. She was soon married and the two moved to Charleston, S.C., where they still have a home. After the birth of their second child (of three), both Kris and Bob were yearning for a creative outlet and came up with a clothing line named after their two children (Neve and Shepard Hawk). Neve & Hawk was born. It’s grown from offering children’s clothing only to multiple lines, two production facilities and a flagship store in the charming town of San Anselmo, California, mere miles from the Bay Area. It does more than $1 million annually in sales. Not bad for running with a feeling. That same energy and sense of spirit encompasses the Galmarini family. They live free, channeling the parents’ sense of adventure. That same feeling is represented in each piece of clothing they sell.

What started as a children's clothing line has expanded. Kris takes painstaking steps to ensure the quality of her clothing lines, not only in design, but also material.

What inspired you to go into this industry, not only in general, but to also offer the handcrafted, exclusive items that comprise your line? Each piece seems unique; where does the inspiration come from?

In 2010, after I just had my second baby, my husband and I would create together at home when the kids went to sleep. We desperately wanted to find ourselves again in the haze of a newborn and a three-year-old, yet didn't have the finances or the time to get that fulfillment outside of the home. So, we decided to tend to our passions inside of the house- playing music, sipping wine, and creating at night while the kids slept. My husband, Bob, is an artist and I had a passion for clothing design and so we combined our arts. What started as a t-shirt line quickly turned into more. And, here we are, 10 years later with a full clothing brand and flagship, all items produced in San Francisco and Peru. I think that at each stage, the concept and design is the focus and we haven't strayed from that. The design and ethical ethos behind our brand are what is important to us and what will be most important to us as we continue to grow.

The front of the Neve & Hawk flagship store in San Anselmo, California is pictured.

How has the business progressed from inception to where it stands today, not just in location and volume, but in how spread out the customer base is. Do you find you do more business at the flagship store or online? Also, any additional plans for expansion, both in locale or offerings?

Our brand started as a kid's clothing brand and was solely that for over five years. We only were direct to consumer (online) and in other stores (wholesale). We were doing great, but I wasn't happy. I didn't like being behind a desk, chasing money and dealing with stores. The creative part was secondary, and I began to hate my work. So, I started to figure out exactly what I wanted. And, it was a space to both sell and create in a world in which I wasn't managing accounts. So, I stopped all wholesale immediately and started the search for our first brick & mortar shop. When this happened, I decided to begin women's clothing and it quickly grew legs of its own and kind of dictated our direction. That was 2016. We have now had our store for almost four years. And, while our shop carries home, women’s, kids and men’s, our brand is 99% women’s. As for the percentages of sales online and in store- we used to sell more online. But we now are pretty even, doing almost $1 million a year in combined sales. As for expansion, in December we opened a craft coffee shop inside our flagship, partnering with an amazing woman owned, San Francisco-based coffee brand Lady Falcon Coffee Club. It has brought life to our store and has been so fun. And, ironically, has kept us alive during this weird time with Coronavirus. We are hoping to take this flagship model of store & coffee house and open another location in Charleston, South Carolina in the next year as we still consider Charleston home and still have a place there as I didn't want to fully let go.

One of the newest additions to the flagship location is the coffee shop, which wound up playing a huge roll in bridging the financial gap during the heart of the pandemic closure.

As a business owner, how has the pandemic affected you differently than the average citizen? You have a brick and mortar store to contend with, and employees? What affect has it had on them and how difficult was it to make the decisions you had to make?

The past three months been hard. I am not sure which has been more difficult, the emotional toll or the drop in revenue. The first few weeks were about fighting for my employees, coming up with a plan and doing hours of paperwork to get a PPP loan. We were unable to open at all and our production was shut down immediately in both countries so there was a lot of confusion with how to proceed. I am happy to say my full-time employees never missed a paycheck. And, they have been rock stars. It has been a delicate balance of making sure my employees are safe and figuring out how to make money during this time to make sure we survive. A whole lot of pivoting. That coffee shop we added the end of last year? Turns out it is what has saved us in many ways as were able to open curbside and also began a coffee delivery program locally, so people did not have to leave their homes during this time. Those things have kept us alive. We also did a pre-sale for clothing items that were in production when everything shut down and our customers really supported us in that release. We are so incredibly grateful. Now, we are open curbside most days for retail and coffee as well as coffee delivery and subscriptions, just trucking along and learning a lot along the way. We also took the first month off to get our whole flagship online- every brand and artist we carry in our physical location is now on our website too. It’s something we have wanted to do for years but never had the time. There are silver linings in this craziness. I have to focus on that, or I will just cry.

On your website you do a lot to mention and promote other small businesses in your community. On paper, it seems like a nice little town full of a variety and yet close enough to a major metropolitan area like San Francisco. Is it the perfect mix?

I love where we live--San Anselmo, California. It is the best little town and the community is wonderful. So many great restaurants and stores not only in our town but in all the other small surrounding towns in Marin. It is only 15 miles from San Francisco, right over the Golden Gate Bridge. It really is such a great mix and I feel so lucky to live here. As for other small businesses? YES! We must all support one another. The idea of us all being competition is sad to me. We are stronger together. Why feel threatened?

It's not uncommon for the Galmarini family to set off on an adventure. That freedom of spirit is what makes them who they are and its encompassed in the Neve & Hawk clothing line.

You met your husband in 1996 and you’ve been on this incredible journey together. You work together, play together, have three children. And you’re successful together. Given how other families struggle to make their lives work, do you ever have to sit back and pinch yourself?

I met my husband, Bob, in 1996 at Young Life camp. I used to call him from the pay phones in the North Commons and we wrote letters back and forth and dated on and off until 2001 when my mom passed. It was at her funeral that we reconnected and were married in 2004. We have lived in San Diego, LA, Charleston, and the San Francisco area. We have three kids—Neve (13), Shepard (9) and Sebastian (3). We came to San Francisco for his job, yet my work started to boom once we came. I think the key is that we have always been supportive of one another. I do pinch myself, all of the time. But it isn't always easy. Trying to navigate his crazy job (he is senior director of brand design at Slack) and my business, as well as the kids and their activities and school isn't always pretty. Sometimes it is an exhausting struggle. But we are both all in and that means everything. We also both are adventure driven so we are constantly dreaming up scenarios for our lives and then sometimes we just do them, even if it isn't the smartest investment. We are dreamers and also doers and those things combined can be amazing, and dangerous. I think the hardest thing is to make sure we carve out time for ourselves so Bob can surf, and bike and I can run or pretend I am running and read a book with wine in my hand. Whatever it is, we need to escape to it to fill up to be better for our kids and each other. Do we still want to punch each other sometimes? Of course. That is marriage and parenthood. Anyone that says otherwise is lying. Read the full article

#calstatenorthridge #Cleveland #krisgalmarini #neveandhawk #sananselmo #wheeling #YoungLife

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jinjikook · 8 years ago

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Capture The Moment | 1 |

word count: 4.4k

genre: fluff (slow burn); idol-verse!

pairing: reader/seokjin

summary: because of certain circumstances, you’re faced with the opportunity to help run a fansite focused on jin of bangtan sonyeondan. despite not knowing them well, this opportunity starts to bring a new light to your eyes as you get to know the boys through the lens of a camera, your eyes constantly on their oldest member.

a/n: i know absolutely nothing, outside of a couple of articles & speculations, about fansites and how they’re run so most of this will be made up, with a lot of common sense being the grounds of my assumptions.

masterlist

Another day, another dollar.

It was a simple philosophy, one that had been drilled into your mind seemingly since birth. Your parents had always worked hard for their money, as did their parents and their parent’s parents.

You had taken after them all, putting your mind to any task put in front of you and working diligently to become the best, even if it was something as menial as fetching coffee for actual important people of the world.

Which was what you were currently doing.

Sure, your desk job had its perks: You got an hour long lunch break every day, it didn’t require you to be up very early—never any earlier than 9 AM on most days—and you had nice coworkers, for the most part. Minus your arrogant boss and his associates, but you only had to deal with them when he had you working as his assistant from time to time, though you’re happy that you’re better at being a secretary while Mei Qi was more qualified for the assistant role. You two typically switched off whenever he’d request for one of you, but usually Mei Qi would be kind enough to fill for you if you weren’t up for it. She had a natural knack for that sort of thing and you weren’t about to shine down on her talent; not like you could anyways.

Unfortunately, Mei had gotten some time off to take care of her niece while her sister was in the hospital. She was having another child, a son if you remember correctly. While you commended her ability to be so sweet and drop everything to take care of her adorable bumbling niece, you still wished she could manage to come in even if it was just an hour, just to ease you from the growing tension you felt burning every time you stepped within feet of your boss.

“Y/N! About time, I hope that coffee hasn’t grown cold with how long it’s taken you!” He bellowed, his big belly jutting out past his belt and straining the lapels of his suit jacket. You forced a smile on your face, feigning a small laugh and nodding, knowing that if you spoke you’d only dig a hole for yourself. His associates laughed with him, the oldest looking one and closest, smacked him on the shoulder.

“I hope mine is cold, considering I ordered an Iced Americano!” Another round of loud, raucous laughter and your stomach churned from the amount of unattractiveness there was in one room. You swore that being in their presence alone made you and every other woman drier than the Mojave Desert. Shuddering off that visual, you continue to keep your pinched smile painted in place as you round about the table the sleazy men were seated at, dropping off each drink for each man.

It was when you reached the last man—your boss—that you felt that small thread of patience being pulled unbearably taut; it felt like an elastic band, stretched to its limit with the tension begging for it to snap in half.

He reached for the drink as you set it down in front of him, his hand grazing yours while his body leaned back to un-stealthily check you out from behind. It was disgusting, and not the first time he’d done it.

But you needed the money and like you’ve said countless times before: this was the worst of it. The job itself was decent otherwise and you had finally had a well-paying job that wasn’t in the food industry or in retail, the true representation of Hell on earth.

“I can tell you’ve been making use of that company gym, Y/N. Wouldn’t kill you to spend a few more hours there though,” He brushed off his comment with a sip of his drink, not realizing it was indeed still piping hot and the scalding coffee instantly burned his tongue, the flinch he tried to cover up not going unnoticed by yourself. You stifled some laughter and thought the word karma was best fitting for this moment.

Saying your goodbyes, you gracefully bowed out and got the hell out of there before they asked you for anything else or for them to make any more jokes at your dispense.

You blew a stray strand of hair out of your face before tucking it behind your ear, trying to hurriedly walk down the empty corridor back to the elevator in hopes you could escape the hallway with your life.

Unfortunately, your boss had other plans for you.

“Y/N! Dear, it seems that Mr. Kim doesn’t like his coffee that much. Would you be a doll and just go down and grab him a regular hot coffee? I told him to stay away from the iced drinks, but does that old fart ever listen to me?” He waited for you to respond with some sort of witty banter or to laugh or something positive but you just stood there, forced smile back and pinching at your features as you awaited for him to reach a decent punchline for once. When that never came, he just chuckled to himself and tossed you his credit card; yet another way he thought would charm you into swooning at how much money he had to toss around, when in reality you saw it as a desperate attempt to try and get into your pants. Or skirt, whatever.

Simply tailoring your expression into something that resembled joy, though it most definitely never made it up to your eyes, you headed back for the elevator at a much slower pace now that you were already caught in the spider’s web.

Once inside the metal box, you punched the close door button and hit the ground level, foot tapping impatiently at the prospect that you had gone all the way down from the forty-ninth floor to the first, walked all the way to the quaint little coffee shop on the corner of the street, walked back, went up to the fiftieth, only to return and practically retrace your steps back. In heels, no less.

Whoever said high heels were perfect for professional wear was truly a menace. If only it was common law that sweatpants and sneakers were appropriate for work attire, the world would be a better place. But then again that’d mean you’d see your disgusting boss and his “friends” in the same like-wise ensembles and the image alone made you gag, already thankful for the inventors of suits and jackets and all things formal.

Making a steady break for the coffee shop, you briskly brush past the hordes of business workers that loitered in the lobby, a sea of black and white sans the few colorful ties some of the men wore or the navy blues and beiges that women chose instead of their usual crisp white blouses. A few smiled in your direction, even fewer waving.

This wasn’t exactly a friendly business to be in but you had no qualms with anyone and you were decently known for working so close with their superiors, so it wasn’t unheard of for a few to know your name or for you to spend your lunch break with them every now and again.

Finally making your way out of the stuffy building, you step out into the brisk air and your heels click loudly on the pavement as you set out on your journey for the second time today. A food vendor nearby waves at you, recognizing you passing by once more and you gave him an exasperated sigh, shrugging and he laughed, seeming to understand your pain. It brought a genuine smile to your face and you made it back to the café in record time, feeling bouncier than before despite all the extra exercise you were putting in.

You placed your order with the lady up front; she gave you a strange expression to which you reassured her that she wasn’t having déjà vu or seeing double and that you had, in fact, returned for another order. She sweetly smiled and offered you a free pastry for your trouble, having seen you plenty since this was the go-to for most of your business’ caffeine needs.

It seems like other than your boss’s associate’s ill choice of drinks, today was going swimmingly well. You chose something filled with a fruity paste and covered in powdered sugar and you stepped off to walk to a nearby seat, wanting to eat the small snack before the order was due to be finished.

Spotting an open stool by the counter that was bolted to the large windows leading to the streets outside, you maneuvered your way around people and tables to the seat, only to be nudged by someone pulling out of their chair at the wrong moment, sending you toppling into another patron.

Apologizing profusely, pastry long forgotten on the floor, you look at the young man whom you bumped into and he smiled, saying that no harm had been done and he made sure you were well before heading out.

It was strange, how nice and cool-headed he’d been. You swore you spied some of the powdered sugar from your pastry on his clothes, too much of a bright contrast on his dark clothes to not be noticed. So why hadn’t he been at least a small bit upset?

The lady who had caused the incident tapped you on the shoulder, a petite woman no older than probably 26 or 27. She had her short brown hair clipped behind her ears and a clean white mask tucked under her chin as she spit out apology after apology. You told her it was fine, that the man hadn’t even been the least bit upset with you, oddly enough.

“Was he really okay with it? I saw he got dirty from your food though?” You nodded and agreed, saying how weird it was that he hadn’t even reacted to the mess you two caused. “No matter, I’m really very sorry. I wasn’t paying attention, I should’ve looked before I pushed my chair out like that. I’m glad nothing major happened, I couldn’t forgive myself if you had gotten hurt from an incident like that!” She gestured down at your feet, “In such high heels like those, you could’ve easily twisted or broken your ankle with my carelessness!”

You reassured her that all was well, it wasn’t much of a big deal. Either way, she still offered to buy a pastry to replace yours, despite the fact you had told her you had gotten it for free from the sweet owner.

“Even more of a reason that I should replace it! It was a gift, a kind and generous gesture from Mrs. Son and we shouldn’t disrespect her kindness by letting her food lay in waste. We should compensate by buying another!” While her logic didn’t make complete sense to you, unfortunately your protests fell on deaf ears as the woman wormed her way back up to the counter to ask for the same pastry you had chosen.

You slinked up next to her, sputtering wildly, “Really, it’s okay! I’ll pay for it, don’t worry!” As you spoke, you reached for your boss’ credit card where you had tucked it into your skirt. It wasn’t very noticeable there but the gold that shone off the edge tended to catch the light every now and again. But unfortunately, clothes for women rarely ever came with any sort of option to keep things, pockets practically nonexistent just so purse merchants would have boosted sales.

Feeling around the band around your waist, you realized there was no hard plastic under any of the spots you touched. Panic crossed your features as you hurriedly patted down your skirt. You couldn’t have lost your boss’ credit card, you’d be so dead and so fired.

Feeling sweat bead at your hairline, you tell the lady to wait one moment as you walk back to where you fell. Maybe it had slipped out when you tripped, probably kicked under a table or something. Giving up your dignity for the time being, you got down on your hands and knees and looked under the tables around you, trying to check under people’s shoes to see if maybe it was hidden under there. You were absolutely freaking out, people giving you strange looks from all angles and the woman returned to your side, grabbing your arm and tugging you back upright.

“Dear! Get off your knees, the floor is dirty and that certainly isn’t very ladylike to do in a skirt!”

“I don’t care! I can’t find my boss’ credit card! It was here,” You pointed at the part of your skirt you had tucked the card into, “And now it’s gone! I swear I had it when I came in because I paid for the drink and then I made it over here and it must’ve slipped out when I tripped and…” You mind raced at a million miles an hour, trying to figure out where it could’ve gone.

The same thought hit the both of you in the same moment and you share incredulous looks, eyebrows furrowing.

“You don’t think…?” You said, worry evident in your voice.

“He was so casual about it all… could he have stolen it?” The woman spoke, her voice small and weak as the two of you realized how you were part of a great swindle.

“Fuck!” You cried under your breath, hands coming up to cradle your face as you felt tears begin to prick at your eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening, to me of all people! It’s not even my card—oh my god, I am so fired.” You cried into your hands, feeling practically miniature from how low of a blow this was.

“I am so sorry, this is all my fault! M-maybe your boss will understand! Where do you work, I can try and help you explain? He can call the credit card company and have them freeze the card, track its whereabouts and—” You shook your head from where you had it in your palms, speaking through your fingers.

“It’s no use, he’s still gonna fire me for being so irresponsible.” You tore your hands away to sniffle and wipe at your nose, not caring how ugly your crying face must look.

The woman looked on the brink of tears herself, not wanting any of this to happen in the first place. “This is all my fault, I can’t believe I did this to you. Please, let me help any way that I can.”

You let out a bitter laugh, taking the napkin she handed to you as you wiped at the smearing makeup under your eyes.

“Unless you could get me another decent job that isn’t around food or selling clothes in the next day, I don’t think you can really help.” Scoffing at the request, you submitted yourself to defeat. You’d have to trudge all the way back to the tall office building, make it past all the smiling faces that chattered wildly, probably have to ride up to the top floor with some other annoying chipper people with no sense of personal space and have to face your boss, probably hear him chew you out about how irresponsible you are and how he should’ve never given you a chance. The idea of being confronted like that made you want to cry again, but you heard the woman next you whisper something, more so to herself but you were still curious.

“What?”

“You could work for me…” You gave her a strange look, feeling a little uneasy about her sudden offer to work under a complete stranger, albeit a completely nice and harmless looking one so far. Then again you thought the boy you ran into was sweet until he turned out to be a dirty thief.

“I’m sorry? Work… for you? How?” You indulged her for the moment, a twinge of desperation coloring your features as you gave into your curiosity.

She gestured to her laptop that was sitting on the table she had been seated at, opening the lid and keying in her password, the small chime telling you she was logged in. Once in, she clicked away at folders on her desktop before she arrived to a page with hundreds of folders, all with different numbers as titles. She clicked on the first one, revealing even more files inside, all pictures. Clicking once more, an image is brought up to full-screen, in high definition.

It was a picture of an idol at a fanmeet.

To be more specific, it was a picture of Kim Seokjin from Bangtan Sonyeondan. BTS for short. One of the biggest up and coming K-Pop groups of this time.

“I run a fansite for Bangtan, for Seokjin specifically. I’ve been running it since I came to know them during their Danger era. I wish I had cared for them when they debuted but I’m happy to be following them now. It’s a hard job, keeping up with them and trying to get the best angles, especially with so much competition. Despite Jin being one of the lesser stanned members, he still has plenty of other fansites covering his every move and BTS is growing every day in popularity. It’s hard for a woman my age to keep up, especially with all these young girls sprouting out with cameras from their parents and a hell-driven tenacity to capture their favorites.”

You nodded aimlessly as she spoke, trying to keep up with everything she was saying. This was nice and all, but where would you come in? Not like you knew the first thing about fansites or idol groups. Sure, you liked some of the music and you knew who BTS were, but you weren’t avidly following groups due to how busy work kept you.

Plus your parents tried to keep you from being one of those girls that fawned over them and became, ironically enough, a person who would willingly follow them around and obsess over them.

“You could be my helper, I’d lend you a camera and you could help me get pictures of Jin. We can also split up and buy albums in different locations so we can try and get into fanmeets all over. It’s tiring for one person to do; it’d been easier when they weren’t as popular. But I’m happy they’re gaining more fans, even though my wallet isn’t.”

“I’m sorry, but if you’re struggling to pay for the expenses of this job, how are you supposed to pay me?”

“Well the pay isn’t anything crazy or amazing, but it’s decent. Plus I make a lot when I sell goods, the photocards alone make a good amount. But when I make seasonal photobooks and goodies, you better believe that’s when we start bringing in some real money.” She smiled, her sour mood gone as she began to reminisce how big her last pay-out had been when she came out with a photobook a few months ago for the winter.

“Please, it’s the least I can do. The job can be hectic and at times, dangerous, but I promise it’s worth it. You’ll make a living and it’s honestly so exciting to be so close to celebrities, they’re just like us but with a crazy amount of talent.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been one to follow these groups, either online or in real life.” You shrugged, feeling your face grow sort of sticky from the salty tears that were beginning to dry and tighten on your skin.

“It’s easy once you get the hang of it. I promise I’ll guide you every step of the way, and who knows? You might end up liking it. Just don’t leave me to become my competition,” She finished with a wink, smiling in a way you found sort of cute and endearing, though you’re sure there was some promise held to her words. After all, she had been talking about being overwhelmed with others who were as passionate as herself.

“I’m in no way the best fansite to ever exist, I slack off at times and I don’t have as much money as some of the others but being a Jin fansite has its perks, especially since I’ve been around for longer than some of the others. Their most recent comeback, I Need U, has really brought in more fans and when people look for Jin, my pictures are some of the firsts they’ll find.” She beamed with pride, pointing at the watermark she cutely edited into the picture of Jin holding up a bubble blower in a pose meant to manly, you assumed.

It read: “Capture The Moment” in pretty calligraphy, the right amount of swirls and bends to look professional yet it had its own charm to it.

“Why’d you choose that?” You asked, once more letting your curiosity peek through. Your lack of a straightforward answer to the woman’s offer pleased her, feeling like she had you hooked already. She smiled, her pearly white teeth showing in a straight array and you noticed that she truly was a beautiful woman, idol obsessed or not.

“A lot of fansites choose English names, it’s easier for international fans to find. Some like to include the idol’s name, like JINISM or Dream Jin, but I preferred something more sophisticated, so I chose a play on the fact I take pictures. They’re known to ‘capture’ things, and in this case I ‘capture the moment’ with Seokjin.” You were intrigued, if you had to be honest. How does one petite woman handle all of this, manage to run back and forth across the country to buy albums and visit fanmeets and talk to idols and know their flights and…

You felt dizzy.

“I don’t know if I could ever handle any of this, it seems like a lot of work. And like I said, I have no experience in a field like this.”

“No one really does when they first start. Unless they were fans of a different group beforehand, they usually have to go into it blind. It’s a risky business but lucrative when you put enough heart into it. The idols appreciate good fansites because it’s what helps get them popular, puts their pictures up on billboards and subway station walls. It’s because of us that they get so many international fans, and for that they’re thankful. I’m just glad that we also band together to keep some of the more… immature fans from making fools of themselves and a mockery of what we do.”

You knew what she was talking about, the sasaeng fans that had no limits. They’d enter bathrooms with idols and try to sneak pictures, they send them disgusting personal items or try to hurt them or scare them in hopes that their precious idols remember them, no matter that it’s because of a bad experience.

You still felt uneasy about the entire situation. You really didn’t know if you could put in the passion some of these people had for the group, you barely knew names with faces if you had to be honest.

Sensing your uneasiness, the woman gestured for you to take a seat in front of her laptop—the same seat that caused all of this in the first place—and you sat, watching as she set up a several folders for you to go into and scroll through each individual picture.

Yeah, Jin was handsome, no doubt. But you didn’t think you should base your future and your ability to pay rent based on the fact that he was good looking. You huffed, choosing to think it over as you casually kept clicking picture after picture.

Jin was smiling cutely with heart stickers on his cheeks in one, there was one with him in a flower crown and one where he was giving a piggyback to another member, though you couldn’t recall his name. You were about to ask about him but the woman beat you to the punch, pointing to him as she explained his name was Jeongguk and he was the youngest member.

“He’s cute right? But he’s just a baby, so we all want to keep him safe from the crazy ones.” You nodded along and kept looking at some more pictures, not paying attention to the fact that daylight was slowly slipping away from you and your boss was more than likely wondering where the fuck you had gone. “So? What do you think?”

You pursed your lips, letting out a long sigh.

“I need to think it over, honestly. It’s a big change, and I do have rent to worry about and I don’t know if I’m in any place to take a risk like this.” Seeming to understand, the woman nodded and let you out from the seat.

“Well, I’ll leave you with my name and number then, you can call me tomorrow with your thoughts. But trust me, it really is a good life, once you get down to it. A little wild, yes I will admit, but what’s life without a little spice?” She winked once more before scribbling out her name and number on a spare napkin in a cute little purple pen she pulled out from the bag she had sitting on the table behind her laptop.

“Jung Yeji?” Testing out her name, short and sweet. Oddly enough, just like her.

She nods happily, packing her things away in a far more chipper mood than you can honestly handle at the moment.

“Please think it over… um?” She stood static, eyes boring into your own. It took you a second to realize she didn’t know your name.

“Oh! Sorry, my name is Y/F/N [your full name].” You two share a formal handshake, despite it being a little late to have introductions. She shares that she has to leave, knowing that Bangtan is due to go on an evening broadcast tonight and she didn’t want to be late. Waving goodbye to you, she shouted for you to think about it once more before leaving the café with the small chime of the door.

You stood there, in awe that this just happened to you.

Forced to start over, you were faced with the choice of having to look through meager jobs and most likely work where you hated most, or start fresh in the work of assisting a fansite owner. Both had their pros and cons but honestly, it was too early for you to decide on anything.

Right now, you had to face your boss and tell him the bitter truth.

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sconesteaandmysteries · 7 years ago

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The Eye on the Sparrow, Chapter Four

Next chapter. That will probably be all for this fic this week. Hopefully, I’ll post more of it next week.

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three

Summary: Sid meets up with an old friend...

Chapter Four

The rain that lasted most of the day eventually gave way to a cool, crisp twilight. It was the sort of evening that felt perfect to Sid for a night out to himself. Thus, after he drove Lady Felicia back home from the Bolton’s party, he stopped by his caravan, changed out of his chauffeur’s uniform, and headed off to the Red Lion.

He had about the uninvited guests who dropped by the party from Lady Felicia as he drove her home. From what she said, it sounded like something Sid almost regretted missing. Almost. After all, there was the consolation of hanging around the kitchen and having all the leftovers he wanted. As well as getting to know the Bolton’s newest maid.

Sid walked up to the bar and ordered himself a beer. He had hoped to run into his new acquaintance at the pub tonight. Although, he also knew that that was dependent on whether or not she could get her share of the cleanup from the party done early enough. He took his time drinking his first two beers and listened in on a few conversations to pass the time. Not only was it mildly entertaining, but he never knew when something he heard could prove useful to the Father during an investigation at some point.

He hung around for a couple of hours, but saw no sign of the girl he had planned on meeting. Disappointed, Sid started to head for the bar again to get one more for the road before heading back to his caravan for an early night for a change.

“Sid Carter…and here I thought I’d never see you again.”

Sid turned from the bar to see who had spoken to him and was stunned by what he saw. The man behind him had a tweed suit and a mustache and had aged a few years since he had seen him last. It took him a few seconds to get past these superficial changes, but once he did, a huge grin appeared on his face.

“Nicky? Nicky Anders? Is that really you?” Sid walked over and shook Nicky’s hand and patted his arm. “I don’t believe it. Look at you. Looks like you made out all right.”

“And you’re still here in Kembleford,” Nicky said, patting Sid’s shoulder. “Somehow, I always knew you’d end up staying here. And what about that priest? Father Brown? Did he get back all right? And what about you?”

“Yeah, he came back just before the war ended,” Sid replied. “As for me, there’s not much to tell. I still do odd jobs and handyman work. On top of that you can add being a chauffeur for a lady.”

“Sid Carter, going straight and doing honest work?” Nicky said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Well, mostly honest work,” Sid chuckled. “But what about you? I never did hear what happened to you after you got out of Kembleford.”

“Honesty, I’m sorry about that,” Nicky said. “I really am. I was just so desperate to leave, I suppose I took that out on you. And then I got so busy with my new life, the years just sort of slipped away. You are right though that my fortunes have definitely changed.”

Nicky walked over toward the bar with Sid walking alongside him. “Before I get into that though, I’m feeling rather parched.”

“Sure,” Sid said. He waved to get the attention of the bartender. “Two beers.”

“And I’m buying,” Nicky said, holding up a ten shilling note. Sid grinned back at him.

“Well, I’m not going to argue that,” he said. “So come on, what did happen?”

Nicky held up his hand to wait until they had gotten their beers and he had paid for them. Then they moved to sit at one of the tables near the back.

“I got a job,” Nicky said, sipping his drink. “A proper one. You heard of Andrew Carstairs? The retail mogul?”

“Yeah, Lady F…I mean, Lady Felicia…she’s the lady I work for,” Sid said. “She mentioned he showed up at a party I took her to earlier today. From what she said, he sounds like a real piece of work.”

“Well, I can’t agree with you too much there,” Nicky chuckled. “Because he’s my employer now.”

“You’re kidding,” Sid replied, smirking. Nicky took a long drag on his beer before laughing again.

“It’s true,” he insisted. “You’re looking at Mr. Carstairs’ personal assistant.”

“Right,” Sid chuckled. “And how did you swing that, eh? Whatever it was, it must have been a whopper of a scheme.”

“It was nothing as underhanded as you’re implying,” Nicky smiled. “He happened to know my previous employer, who recommended me for the job.”

“Maybe so, but you don’t exactly strike me as the typewriter and shorthand type,” Sid countered. “So what are you doing for him?”

“All sorts of things,” Nicky shrugged. He gulped down most of his beer before continuing. “I look after things for him. Check up on the other people who work for him to make sure they’re doing their jobs. When he’s thinking about making a business deal with someone, I go out ahead of him to get the ‘lay of the land’ so to speak. And, of course, I do any other odd jobs that need doing.”

“And he pays you pretty well for all that then?” Sid asked.

“Enough to keep my comfortable,” Nicky said. “For now anyway.”

“You thinking of making a change in the near future?”

“Let’s just say that I always like to keep my options open,” Nicky said, finishing his beer. “It’s no good to let yourself stagnate. Right?”

“I guess,” Sid shrugged. “You never were one for letting the grass grow under your feet.”

“That’s why I was always the one who was better at spotting opportunities,” Nicky laughed. “Especially when we were working together.”

“Hang on,” Sid said, sitting upright in his chair. “I was the one who told you about that Davers job and how loose the old man was with his money. And that was one of the best jobs we ever pulled. Oh and what about that woman with her music box collection. Or did you forget about how I had to hang around and listen to all those blinking music boxes for a week so we could work out a plan?”

“You’re forgetting though that I was the one who made all those plans run smoothly,” Nicky argued. “That’s why we worked so well together. I was the brains. You were the brawn.”

“Funny, I don’t remember it like that,” Sid smirked.

“You always did have a bad memory,” Nicky smirked back. “It’s why you need someone to keep you in line.”

After that, the conversation moved between playful bickering and fond recollections of the various schemes and mishaps the two of them had gotten into as boys. It felt a bit odd to Sid to be able to laugh so much about those times now. Back then, Nicky was facing poverty and he was still dealing with the loss of his parents and then with Father Brown leaving Kembleford for the war. But somehow, the passage of time had smoothed away most of the unhappy parts of that time which allowed the good memories shine through.

Or maybe it was just easier to remember the good times while things were currently better in his life.

As they downed some more beers, Sid also contemplated the sense of relief that he had over seeing Nicky again. He had always wondered what had happened to him after they had parted ways. Nicky was clever, of course, but he also had a tendency to get more than a little shortsighted in his quest for more money. Sid worried that that aspect of Nicky’s personality could get him mixed up with the wrong people and that that could lead to Nicky spending a long time in prison…or worse.

Instead, it looked as if Nicky had charmed and conned his way into a prosperous and, on the surface anyway, legal way of life. Sid was happy for him as he remembered how much hardship Nicky and his family had suffered.

On a more personal level, Sid was also pleased that their friendship had not been broken beyond repair. Nicky had been one of the closest friends Sid had ever had. It felt good to reconnect with him, especially now that neither of them was doing badly in life.

Sid finished off his latest pint and let out a loud burp before leaning back in his chair. “So, how long do you think you’ll be in Kembleford?”

“I don’t know,” Nicky said before draining what was left in his glass. “A week at least. Mr. Carstairs is looking at some business opportunities around here. Says that there’s real potential out in these parts.”

“Good luck to him then,” Sid nodded. “In the meantime, maybe the two of us could meet up again. I know a place where you can get the best shepherd’s pie in all of Kembleford.”

“I’d like that,” Nicky said. “And perhaps I can offer something to you as well. Like a chance to do some high-paying work?”

“Sounds promising. What kind of work did you have in mind?”

“Too early to say,” Nicky answered. “It’ll depend on what my boss wants done. But when something comes up, I could put in a good word for you. Who knows? It could lead to something more permanent. We could be partners again.”

Sid smiled at him. The prospect of working with Nicky again and making a good living while doing it did appeal to him. However, the vague way Nicky talked about it made Sid wonder if what they would be doing would be entirely legal. Not that that alone was enough to deter Sid, but these days it did give him some pause. Plus, a permanent position could mean having to leave Kembleford which he also wasn’t sure about.

“Yeah, let me know,” Sid said. “And I’ll be sure to think about it.”

“Well don’t take too long to think about it,” Nicky cautioned. “If something does come up, you won’t want to let it pass you by ‘cause you might not get another opportunity.”

Sid nodded again and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. He wasn’t all that sure about his chances to work with Nicky again long term.

However, he was determined to not let his chance to mend their friendship slip by him.

Later that night, after the moon had started to wane in the sky, a figure dressed in black snuck onto the Bolton estate.

Slowly and carefully, they crept up to the main house and managed to slip in through an open window near the foyer. They had to wait patiently whenever a servant appeared nearby, but their patience paid off as they slipped past all of them and managed to make it over to the study. They opened the door and made sure to close it with great care so it wouldn’t creak.

Then the figure walked around the room, as if to admire all the lavish furnishings and large inventory of books. It wasn’t long though before they walked over to their intended destination: a small stand next to the oak desk that sat in the back of the room. The stand held a small collection of crystal bottles, including one that held some whiskey.

They opened a window and dumped the remainder of the whiskey into the bushes outside. Then they pulled another bottle out of a pouch that was slung around their shoulder. The contents were poured into the now empty container and appeared to be identical to what had been in there before.

Soon, the bottle was filled and returned to its previous spot on the stand. The empty bottle that the figure had brought with them was put back into the pouch. Then they climbed out of the window and dashed off into the night, quickly being swallowed by the darkness.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow their mission would be complete. And Alistair Bolton would pay for what he had done.

#father brown #fanfic #my father brown posts

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