#résumé tips

[chillitnz]

Revamp your résumé for interview success

Congratulations, your résumé has opened doors! You’ve secured the interview, signaling it’s time to up your game. As your ultimate secret weapon, understanding how to revamp your résumé for interview success is crucial. This guide is designed to help you wield your résumé to its fullest potential, ensuring you’re perfectly poised for interview success. Step 1: Know Your Résumé Inside and Out No…

[destkelamedia]

Highlight These Often-Ignored Experiences to Elevate Your Résumé

[pompadourpink]

Literal French expressions

À deux - at two

À la + n. - in the style of

À la carte - at the menu

À la mode - in fashion

Amateur - lover

Après-ski - after skying

À propos - about

Armoire - wardrobe

Art nouveau - new art

Au naturel - plain

Au pair - at the peer

Auteur - author

Avant-garde - before guard

Bête noire - black beast

Blasé - jaded

Bon appétit - good appetite

Bon voyage - good journey

Boutique - shop

Buffet - credenza

Bureau - office

Canapé - couch

Carte blanche - white card

C'est la vie - that's life

Chauffeur - warmer (n.)

Chef - leader

Cliché - picture

Clique - gang

Connaisseur - "knower"

Coup d'état - blow of state

Coup de grâce - blow of mercy

Coup de foudre - blow of lightning

Couture - sewing (n.)

Cul-de-sac - ass of the bag

Début - beginning

Débutante - beginner

Déjà-vu - already seen

Dénouement - untying

Dossier - file

Double entendre - double hear

... du jour - of the day

Eau de toilette - washing water

Eau de vie - life water

Encore - again

Ennui - boredom

En route - in road

Ensemble - together

Entourage - people surrounding you

Entrepreneur - starter (n.)

Essai - attempt

Esprit de l'escalier - spirit of the stairs

Étiquette - label

Exposé - exposed

Façade - frontage

Faux pas - fake step

Femme fatale - deadly woman

Film noir - black movie

Fin de siècle - end of century

Flâneur - "stroller"

Femme - woman

Folie à deux - madness at two

Foyer - fireplace, home

Gamine - female kid (casual)

Gauche - left

Gendarme - person of weapons

Je ne sais quoi - I don't know what

Laissez-faire - let (someone) do (imperative)

Laissez-passer - let (someone) pass

L'appel du vide - the call of the void

Lingerie - underwear

Maître d' - master o'

Mardi gras - fat Tuesday

Matinée - morning

Ménage à trois - household at three

Mon/ma chéri-e - my cherished

Montage - mounting

Motif - pattern

Mural - on the wall (adj.)

Né-e - born

Négligé - neglected

Nom de plume - feather name

Parole - word

Petite - small (adj.)

Pied-à-terre - foot on land

Poilu - hairy

Pot pourri - rotten pot

Pourboire - for drink

Première - first

Prêt-à-manger - ready to eat

Protégé - protected

Renaissance - rebirth

Rendez-vous - appointment

Répertoire - directory

Résumé - summary

Risqué - risked

Robe - dress

Rouge - red

RSVP - answer please

Sans-culottes - without pantaloons

Savant - "knower" (n.)

Savoir-faire - know how to do (v.)

Savoir-vivre - know how to live

Séance - session

Soirée - evening

Souvenir - memory

Suite - sequel, development

Surveillance - careful watching

Tête-à-tête - head to head

Touché - touched

Tour - circuit

Trompe-l'oeil - cheats the eye

Venue - came

Vignette - sticker, label

Vis-à-vis - face to face

Voyeur - "seer"

Ballet vocabulary:

Allongé - laid down

Balancé - swinged

Balançoire - swing (n.)

Battu - battered

Brisé - broken

Chassé - chased

Chaînés - chained

Ciseaux - scissors

Coupé - cut

Dégagé - cleared

Développé - developed

Échappé - escaped

En cloche - in bell

En croix - in cross

Entrechat - between braid

En pointe - in tip

Failli - almost did

Fouetté - whipped

Glissade - sliding

Plié - bent

Jeté - thrown

Manège - carousel

Pas de bourrée - drunk step

Pas de chat - cat step

Pas de cheval - horse step

Pas de deux - step of two

Pas de valse - waltz step

Penché - leaned

Piqué - pricked

Port de bras - carry of arms

Relevé - lifted back up

Renversé - titled, bent backwards

Retiré - removed

Rond de jambe - leg circle

Temps de flèche - arrow time Tendu - stretched

Temps lié - linked time

Tombé - fallen

Tour en l'air - turn in the air

Kitchen vocabulary:

Amuse-bouche - mouth entertainer

Bain-Marie - Mary bath

Café au lait - milky coffee

Casserole - pot

Cordon bleu - blue ribbon

Crème brûlée - burnt cream

Crème de la crème - cream of the cream

Crème fraîche - fresh cream

Croissant - crescent

Éclair - lightning

Entrée - entrance

Filet mignon - cute net

Flambé - blazed

Foie gras - fat liver

Fondant - melting

Fondue - melted

Gourmet - foodie

Hors d'oeuvre - out of the work

Légume - vegetable

Liqueur - liquid

Mille-feuille - thousand leaf

Mousse - foam

Pâté - pasted

Roux - redhead(ed)

Sauté - jumped

Sautoir - "jumper"

Soufflé - blown

Velouté - velvety

Fanmail - masterlist (2016-) - archives - hire me - reviews (2020-) - Drive

[jadeleechsupportgroup]

Closet Prison

“And those pitiable robes return once more to their closet prison.”

You get trapped in Malleus’s closet. Well done.

malleus x reader

cw: none

also on ao3

You are starting to wonder how many different job titles you have collected so far in your short tenure at Night Raven College. Even if you gathered several of them under the ‘Janitor’ heading that Crowley had so proudly bestowed upon you on the first day, there were enough now to make for one hell of a résumé: Glasswork Repair Technician, Antique Plumbing Specialist, Magestone Recovery Agent, not to mention every version of the word ‘therapist’ that existed. Now, you suppose, you could add Laundry Cleanliness Coordinator to the list.

“I demand to speak with someone at once! This is an outrage!”

Ah, yes. How could you forget Customer Service Punching Bag.

You peek out to the front reception area, hiding between hanging garment bags and swiping your over-steamed hair out of your face. You could have easily - and correctly - guessed at the owner of the voice for several reasons, primary among them 1. This happens every week and 2. Anyone would know that voice because no one ever gets to stop hearing it.

No one is coming to his rescue, even though you know you are not the only one on a shift today. But you are the closest one to the door. You balance your fingertips on the white paneling and close your eyes, steeling yourself for battle, your best and brightest fake smile serving as both armor and weapon. You tuck your lint brush into your back pocket in case you need something portable that won’t leave a mark.

“Why, Sebek, fancy seeing you here,” you say in a voice not your own. Your Customer Service Voice is a different person. You don’t know her. “You’re looking very well.”

“No, I am not!” he shouts, rattling the change in the tip jar on the counter behind you. Before you can have a chance to react, he shoves a garment bag with a paper receipt into your face. “You have made a grave error, and you must pay for it immediately!”

Your smile wanes, but you stay strong. “Me? In particular? Are you sure?”

“Who else would have committed such an unforgivable act, human?!”

You fold your arms patiently. “Perhaps you could enlighten me as to the error of my ways?”

Sebek flings down the garment bag in disgust. You catch it, somewhat, but its heft and size make for an awkward movement, something Sebek no doubt enjoys. “Since humans are of such feeble mind, I shall, as they say, ‘spell it out for you.’”

His chest heaves, and you brace yourself for the volume that’s about to assault you and anyone else within a three-mile radius.

“You have misplaced the ceremonial robes belonging to the great Malleus Draconia!”

The urge to beat him over the head with the tip jar strikes you abruptly, but you file it away. Inside, a very small part of you does panic - did Malleus bring some valuable, irreplaceable robes from home? But then you realize what Sebek means, and all you can do is wonder whether you could make assault with a deadly weapon look like self defense.

You put on your Voice again. “Like, his orientation robes? I didn’t even see those come in.”

“Of course not! And now they have landed in someone else’s filthy, unworthy hands!”

“Okay, okay. Sheesh.” You hang up the offending garment bag and check the receipt. Sure as shit, it has Malleus’s name on it. You refrain from suggesting this is all part of an elaborate prank. It would be funny, but you’ve heard enough of Sebek’s voice for one day. “I’ll get it sorted out.”

“See that you do! And that you prepare an apology for Lord Malleus at once!”

You force yourself to take a deep breath and hold it until he storms out the door. The tip jar lives to see another day.

You go over the books and cross-check a few numbers. A simple mistake - someone accidentally skipped a line on one side of the page, so now the entries are misaligned. You check the tag on the inside of the robes and find Leona’s name embroidered on the lining.

The prospect of hiking across campus with a heavy garment bag longer than you are tall is hardly enticing, but you don’t have much of a choice. The last thing you want is for Sebek to come back in ten minutes demanding to know why you haven’t fixed everything by now. You pull on your coat and head outside.

It’s cool and cloudy out - probably normal September weather for some, but you hail from somewhere hotter this time of year, and you’re already cold. The chill hastens your steps as you make your way across the stones and grassy pathways to the Hall of Mirrors. You wish you had a giant mug of hot cocoa or spiced apple cider. One of each, you decide as you step through the Savanaclaw mirror.

The jump still leaves you queasy, but the warm humidity of the pocket dimension embraces you and eliminates the cold clinging to your shoulders. You wander past groups of students, trying to catch glimpses of their faces while avoiding eye contact. You don’t recognize anyone, so with a sigh, you plod toward the main building.

A tall beast-eared student leans against the wall of the entryway like some kind of bouncer. You’re hoping he’ll ignore you, but he stands to his full height and blocks your path.

“You lost?” he asks gruffly.

“I need to give these to Leona,” you say evenly, losing some of the bravado that empowered you against Sebek earlier. “His robes got mixed up with someone else’s.”

He leans in and sniffs the air around you, prompting you to move away, bringing a satisfied glint to his eye. His ears twitch, but he finally backs off and resumes his post. “Go on.”

You find yourself breathing a little more deeply in a vain attempt to slow your heart rate. It would not do to pass out from a panic attack in the midst of all these predators. It occurs to you that you don’t know where to find Leona, but you really don’t want to ask any of these people for directions, so you start wandering. You’re up the stairs and halfway down the hall when a door opens and a familiar head of sandy brown hair ducks out of it.

“…last time I help that guy with anything,” he grumbles to himself. He glances up at you, and his dour expression lifts a bit. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“Hi, Ruggie,” you say, breathless from the stairs. “I have Leona’s robes.” You have to pause for one huge breath. “They got switched around at the cleaners.”

Ruggie cackles. “That explains a lot. I’ll swap ’em out - he just went back to sleep.”

“Thanks.” You hand him the garment bag. He disappears back into the room, then returns with a different bag. Unfortunately, it’s no less long or heavy. You decide to fold it in half, hoping it will be a little easier to carry. “Best of luck with…whatever he’s having you do this time.” You gesture vaguely at the closed door.

“Haha, yeah.”

You’re almost too warm from all this manual labor by the time you re-enter the Hall of Mirrors, but the shock of cold that smacks you full force on the other side of the Diasomnia mirror leaves you instantly shivering. Is it always this cold in here? How does anyone stand it? The fog curling around the clusters of thorns at your feet does not help. Unlike at Savanaclaw, you don’t see any students milling about here. Just a long, lonely stone walkway winding up through the mist to the castle.

You hope just a little that the doors will be locked and you’ll have to leave, but no luck. The massive wooden doors are propped open, though nobody is standing guard here. They probably assume (correctly) that no one would waltz in here without a reason.

You try not to make it too obvious that you’ve never been in Diasomnia before, but there are plenty of things to gawk at in the lavishly-appointed lounge. Fine leather seating, antique wood tables that look like the much nicer versions of the ones in your dorm, expensive imported rugs - yet even with all that, and the flickering green candle flames dotting the room, the whole space feels…vacant. Lacking. And cold. So cold you can smell the stone.

“H- hello?” you call out, losing what little courage you had remaining. You consider leaving the garment bag on the nearest chair and escaping to safety, but a set of footsteps catches your attention.

“Why, good afternoon,” says a sunny, cordial voice completely at odds with your surroundings. He smiles and tilts his head to one side. “What can I do for you?”

“Lilia, right?” you guess, and to your relief he nods in response. “I’m just returning these.” You set the garment bag down, suddenly aware of how badly you were scrunching it. “Malleus’s robes,” you add.

Lilia blinks his bright cerise eyes. “Oh, that must be where Sebek went in such a hurry.” He allows himself a light chuckle. “You didn’t need to come all this way just to bring these back.”

“Yeah? Sebek was ready to burn me at the stake for it, so…” You frown over the state of the garment bag. You didn’t mean to crumple it so badly, but it just got so freaking heavy after more than a few minutes. “Would it be alright if I brush these out before I go? They probably got wrinkled, and I’ve reached my quota of stake burnings for the month.”

“Of course!” Lilia seems a little overjoyed at the idea of a visitor, but at least he is polite and appreciative of your efforts. “Right this way.”

You have to endure another set of stairs, passing by an enormous bat-winged chair at the top that would be practically comical in any other situation. Lilia trots along merrily ahead of you, humming to himself as you study the iron latticework of the huge windows lining the hall. Outside, you catch glimpses here and there of the gargoyles that stand guard along the parapets. The green firelight casts shadows through the grating that appear to bring their carved stone faces to life.

“Do you like architecture?” Lilia asks, bringing you out of your musings.

“Yeah, I guess so. This is all…very different from what I’m used to.”

“Well, you are certainly free to stop by at any time. We love having visitors.”

Lilia stops at a set of double doors and tugs them open before leading you inside. He looks about to say something when his watch chirps at him. He checks it curiously. “Hm? Oh, of course. We have a club meeting - I nearly forgot.” He offers you another kind smile. “I’m afraid I must take my leave, but I trust you can find your way out?”

“Pretty sure.” You balance the garment bag on one arm while you try to open the closet doors with your other hand. There’s an absolutely frigid draft in here, strong enough to disturb the curtains, and you wonder if Malleus is one of those monstrous types that sleeps with the windows open. “Thanks.”

“Oh, and be careful with that door. It can stick a little.”

With that, he bounces out of the room.

You hook the hanger over the closet railing and unzip the bag. The damage is minimal, actually; the robes’ heavy brocade fabric is pretty resilient as long as it’s dry. But you spot a few dozen hairs that must belong to Leona. You’re glad you brought the lint brush now.

The cold draft of air spills over your shoulders and freezes your hands. This is getting downright ridiculous. You step back into the main room and go to close the windows, but they’re already closed. The breeze is just there. You grumble to yourself about having two hot cocoas and two apple ciders upon your return home and go back to your work.

Malleus’s entire room looks like it hardly receives any use at all. Whether due to his position as housewarden or his family name, his closet is larger than what you would expect for a dorm room, large enough to stand in comfortably. (Although, for him, you think, perhaps not, as his horns might brush the ceiling. That would be funny.).

You can hardly concentrate because it’s so damn cold. You finally get fed up with it and pull the closet door most of the way shut behind you, leaving just enough of a gap for light to enter. The relief is instantaneous.

You carefully brush and straighten the robes, ensuring all the stray hairs and lint fluffs are removed, trimming a stray thread here and there. You run your fingers over the specially tailored openings in the hood. They’ve been hand-sewn by an expert, even adorned with their own decorative embroidery. You appreciate the craftsmanship, knowing that few people would notice it, let alone care.

As if enraged by your attempts to thwart its presence, the draft of air returns with a vengeance and slams the closet door. You jump - at the noise, the sudden inky darkness, the freshly chilled breeze - and, feeling indignant about it, you push on the door.

Only, it doesn’t open.

You try again to no avail. Then you try pulling on the door, just in case, but it budges even less. You push against it with your shoulder, wondering if this is Sebek’s magical idea of a joke or a punishment, but you’re fairly certain he would rather die than leave you unattended in Malleus’s room. You listen carefully, but you hear no footsteps or voices. Lilia already said he was leaving.

Okay, calm down. Think. And keep throwing yourself into the door while you do it.

You can’t understand why it’s not working. Maybe there’s a magic seal on it. Or maybe you’re just weak. Weak and pathetic.

Frustration turns into a combination of anger and fear and sad. You hate that you’re not able to open the damn door. You hate that you’re getting so worked up over not being able to open the damn door. You hate that thinking about that isn’t enough to make you stop.

“Hello?” you try calling out, but there’s no response. You yell a few more times and knock on the wood for good measure. It changes nothing.

You slump down to the floor and try to breathe. It’s not the dark or the enclosed space that gets to you. Good thing, too, or orientation day would have been a lot more graphic for your audience. It’s just that the whole thing makes you feel…

…stupid.

Your eyes are adjusting to the dark, for all the good it does you, which is hardly any. And the cold breeze has now permeated the supposedly impenetrable barrier, so you’re shivering now, too. You reach up and feel the hem of the robes that caused you all this trouble.

Well, it hardly matters now.

You tug them off of the hanger and snuggle into them. A gentle, woodsy perfume wafts up from the depths of the silk lining, subtle but strong in the enclosed space. You press the fabric to your face and draw in a deep breath. The smell soothes your nerves - fallen leaves, pine needles, fresh rain, even a touch of mycelium.

You don’t have forests around where you’re from. You’ve been to them a few times, sure, on camping trips and one brief foray into the world of hiking, but none of them smelled quite like this.

You lie on your side and stare up in the general direction of the ceiling. The breeze hits your face, so you pull the hood down to shield yourself. You would laugh at how ridiculous this is, but you’re too worn out to care. You roll onto your side and let your eyes loll shut.

“-classes today?”

You mentally tell the voices to go away. You haven’t slept this well in ages.

“They were adequate. I shall go to the library later to acquire some other materials.”

You don’t want to get up. Even though you’re not really that comfortable…

“Excellent idea, my liege! I shall be honored to acquire all the necessary books for you!”

Your eyes shoot open. You’re not dreaming anymore.

The past few minutes - hours? - come back to you, and you scramble to sit up, fumbling with the robes you were using as a blanket. You’re about to try the door again when the voices come back.

“Do not trouble yourself on my behalf, Sebek. I am quite capable.”

“It’s no trouble, my liege!”

You sink back against the wall and try to control your breathing. You don’t even want to imagine what Sebek will say if he finds you like this. Whatever it is, it will cause permanent hearing loss.

You sit in the dark and wait.

“Very well, Sebek.”

“Thank you, Lord Malleus!”

You grit your teeth in annoyance and wish Sebek would go buy a personality since he doesn’t have his own. No wonder Malleus looks to be in such a dour mood all the time. He must have eternal patience to tolerate someone like that. You wouldn’t last ten minutes-

Light suddenly bursts in front of your eyes and blinds you. You squint and hold up one hand to shield your face against the brightness.

Malleus blinks down at you.

You wonder, briefly, what this must look like to his eyes. You, disheveled, wrapped in his ceremonial robes, on the floor of his closet. You are positive that every blood cell in your body is rushing to your face.

You don’t even have time to stand up.

Malleus steps inside and closes the door, plunging you into darkness once again.

“Wh-?”

“Shhh,” he whispers with hardly a breath of air. A rustle of fabric, and his hand locates yours without any of the blind searching you would have done. He helps you stand.

“Behold, Silver! I have been chosen to accompany Lord Malleus to the library!”

“Sure thing, Seb…”

You giggle before you can stop yourself, then clamp your hand over your mouth in a vain attempt to shut yourself up.

“S-sorry,” you stammer hopelessly. “I didn’t, um. It’s a long story.”

Heat soars to your face when Malleus closes his hand over your mouth.

“Shhh,” he says again. You can’t see a thing in the dark, but you can tell he’s listening. He must still faintly hear their voices. You have no idea. You can’t hear a thing over the fervent hammering of your blood against your bones.

You have no idea how long you both stay like that, unmoving, but eventually he pulls his hand away from your mouth. You take several panicked breaths even though you were breathing just fine.

He seems alarmed. “Have I injured you?”

“No, no. Sorry.” You give up and laugh, first from nerves, then relief. “I’ve just been stuck in here for…hours, I guess.”

A bulb of green firelight winks into existence and hovers above your head, where it casts sharp shadows over Malleus’s features. You think of the gargoyle statues. But rather than fierce and intimidating, he looks amused.

“Lilia mentioned that you dropped by to return my robes,” he says. “Did he not warn you about the door?”

You scoff. “He said it sticks a little. Not that I would need inhuman strength to open it.”

Malleus reaches forward and gently tugs the hood off of your head. You forgot you’re still wearing the robes and start to pull them off, but he stops you.

A smile seems to flit across his face, though it may be a trick of the light.

“They suit you,” he says with a low, delicate laugh that turns your heart upside down in your chest. “At least someone has found a use for them.”

“It was cold in here,” you reply lamely.

He leans in close enough that the heat from his breath dances across your nose. “And now?”

You are certain he can hear your pulse louder than you can. One hand is still holding yours, but the other he lifts to the side of your face, brushing the backs of his fingers over your cheek and ear before sweeping through your hair. You close your eyes and sigh into his mouth.

He holds you as though you are fragile, yet something he does not intend to let go. He mirrors your movements, letting you choose how deep or delicate the kiss, sliding his hand down your back to hold you closer. Everything shows that he wants to be careful with you.

Fireworks burst in your heart and under his hands. You reach up to his face, run your fingers through the liquid silk of his hair. Forest and rain and fresh earth overwhelm you, and you realize faintly that it’s not a cologne or anything artificial. It’s the smell of his skin.

You barely nudge the side of his horn with a fingertip. He laughs against your lips and has to pull away.

“Sorry,” you say breathlessly. “I didn’t mean to…”

Malleus brushes your fingers against his mouth, then cradles your hand to the side of his face. “You simply caught me by surprise. That is all.”

“You first.”

You catch sight of his grin before he snuffs out the green flame. “I only wish this had happened sooner,” he says, wrapping both arms around you. You do, too, though what he next murmurs against your ear suggests that his reasons differ slightly from your own. “What a marvelous hiding place.”

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 3.4k ❧ warnings: cursing, drinking (reader gets a bit tips), vomiting ❧ genre: fluff, angst?, friends to lovers, fake dating at the office holiday party trope, reader is stupid (beloved) ❧ extra info: title taken from merry-go-round (christmas edition) by astro my loves ❧ author’s note: idk what it is about kun and christmas and cheesy hallmark movie premises that gets me going but i hope yall r liking all these lmao

“I’ll do it.” Kun immediately offered.

“Huh?”

“I’ll be your fake boyfriend for the night.”

“I lead a cursed existence,” you declared as soon as Kun picked up, slamming your front door closed behind you.

“Uh, why? What happened now?” Your friend’s voice was concerned.

“Jangwook wants to meet my boyfriend at the office Holiday Party this Friday.” You threw your house keys onto your kitchen table and stalked into your bedroom.

Kun knew exactly who you were talking about, your coworker who had been not-so-subtle in his advances towards you, crossing the line on more than one occasion. “I thought you reported him to HR.”

“Yeah, I did.” You kicked your shoes off and into your closet.

“And he still works there?!”

“Uh-huh,” you scoffed, putting him on speakerphone to start getting changed out of your work clothes. “That’s unfortunately usually how that goes.”

“God, Y/N, I’m sorry.” Kun’s voice was sincere. “You’re looking for another job, right?”

“I just started, do you know how bad it looks on a résumé to only work somewhere for less than six months?”

“I think quitting is pretty justified in these circumstances.”

“Well, I’m not. So now I have to find a fake boyfriend in the next two days or it’s going to get worse.”

“I’ll do it.” He immediately offered.

You stopped in your tracks as you were grabbing your pajamas from your dresser. “Huh?”

“I’ll be your fake boyfriend for the night,” Kun reiterated. “Come on, who else would you have asked? Yangyang?”

“Sicheng, maybe, if he wasn’t too busy.” You referenced another mutual friend of yours.

“He’s working.”

“Oh.”

“Come on, I’ll do it.”

“Alright, thanks, Kun,” you agreed. “I’ll owe you one.”

Two days later, you stopped Kun outside the event venue where the Holiday Party was supposed to be happening. Everything had to be perfect tonight, you two had to be convincing. In order to distract yourself from that idea, you readjusted the neckline of Kun’s turtleneck for a moment and smoothed over the lapels of his suit jacket.

“Okay, there you go,” you smiled at him nervously, then fidgeted with the hem of your outfit. “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful,” he assured you, offering his hand out to you. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you sighed, lacing your fingers with his, ignoring the sparking along your skin where it touched his.

Walking into the party, you immediately wanted to leave. The venue was abuzz with chatter from all your coworkers, and Christmas music blasted from speakers somewhere. You spotted the bar in the far corner, and pulled Kun over there.

“No fucking way am I doing this sober,” you muttered to him, earning a laugh.

“Go for it,” he rubbed your back as the two of you sidled up to the bar. “I’m driving.”

After ordering your drink and Kun’s soda, you turned around to the rest of the party, eyes searching for somebody pleasant you could talk to. You finally spotted one of your work friends and led Kun over to her table.

“Hey, Sookyung,” you greeted her brightly.

“Y/N!” She threw her arms around your neck. Already tipsy. “There you are!”

“Here I am!” You chuckled, hugging her back. “How are you?”

“Great! Great!” She beamed at you as you pulled away, inquisitive eyes finding Kun next to you. “And who’s this?”

“Sookyung, this is my boyfriend, Kun.” You hoped your voice didn’t squeak too much over the word boyfriend. “Kun, this is Sookyung, we work on the same floor.”

“Nice to meet you.” He went to offer his hand for a handshake, but she just squealed and hugged him anyway as well.

He looked over at you in confusion, and you mouthed ‘drunk hugger’ to him. He made an ‘ahh’ sound, gingerly patting her back before she let go of him.

“So I get to finally meet you!” She was beaming at him. “When Y/N would talk about you and talk about her boyfriend, I always thought you were two separate people! And I felt bad for her boyfriend because I sort of thought she had a crush on this Kun guy. But you’re the same person! That makes so much more sense.”

“You’re not driving home, right?” You asked her pointedly, feeling your skin grow hot with embarrassment and needing to divert from that information as soon as possible.

“Nope!” She giggled. “My girlfriend’s here somewhere. She doesn’t drink.”

“Good, good.”

“Speaking of, there she is!” Sookyung took off into the crowd.

“And there she goes,” you shook your head, watching her disappear between other bodies.

You fortunately didn’t have very long alone with Kun to address what she had just said, as another coworker appeared at your table. Unfortunately, it was the exact person you’d hoped to avoid for as long as possible.

“Y/N,” Jangwook set his drink down, already far too close for comfort.

You instinctually backed away from him, right into Kun. Before you could apologize, though, Kun wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you even closer, letting his hand settle on your hip.

He offered his other hand out to your coworker. “Qian Kun, I don’t think we’ve met.”

Jangwook shook his hand, and you could see his face contort with pain for a brief flash before he took his hand back. “Lee Jangwook.”

“Jangwook, this is my boyfriend, Kun,” you made introductions awkwardly. “Kun, Jangwook and I are on the same team at work.”

Your coworker seemed to be sizing Kun up for a moment, appraising him and the hand he still had on you, and Kun met his gaze, unwavering. Before you could attempt to continue the tense small talk, a hand grabbed your elbow, and Sookyung was suddenly at your side again.

“Y/N! The girls are doing shots, come on!”

“Sook, I don’t want to—” You were cut off by her insistently tugging you out of Kun’s grasp.

“I’ll be fine here,” Kun reassured you with a dazzling smile, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead before fully letting you go. “Go have fun.”

“O-Okay,” you replied, your voice higher as you were a bit stunned.

Needing no further prompting, Sookyung yanked you off towards the bar. You let her talk you into doing one shot with her and some other female coworkers of yours. It was your usual after-work drinks crew minus a couple men.

You set the shot glass back down with a heavy thunk on the bartop. “Alright, that’s it for me.”

A chorus of disappointed groans came at that, but you stayed firm on your decision as they all got another round, and you watched them, sipping on your cocktail you’d gotten earlier.

“You and your boyfriend are so cute, Y/N,” another one of your coworkers gushed, squeezing your forearm. “I saw you two walk in and I was just like ‘ugh, I need to find somebody who looks at me like that!’ Where did you get him?”

“Oh, we met in college,” you explained vaguely. “Friend of a friend.”

“Then why have you never brought him before?”

She was talking about the other monthly events that your workplace puts on for the employees and their significant others to socialize. You’d gone stag to the other five.

“He’s busy. He travels for work.”

“What does he do?”

“Structural engineer. So he has to be on-site for a lot of builds and stuff. He just got a promotion last month, though, so he doesn’t have to travel as much anymore.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“So when—” Sookyung was cut off by a hiccup. “When is he going to, you know? Pop the question? If you’ve been together since college?”

You felt your skin get hot again, and looked around the room as you tried to come up with an answer. “We haven’t really talked about that. We’re fine where we are, you know?”

“Of course, of course.”

After a little while longer, you excused yourself from the women to find Kun again. He had disappeared from the table you’d been at before, and you peered around the room curiously.

“Looking for someone?” A familiar voice came from beside your ear as an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Oh, Kun,” you breathed a sigh of relief, turning around to see his familiar smile. “There you are.”

He rubbed a hand up and down your exposed arm. “You’ve got goosebumps. Are you cold?”

“It’s a bit chilly in here,” you agreed casually, not even noticing due to the alcohol buzzing through your veins and warming you from the inside.

He slipped his suit jacket off, draping it over your shoulders before pulling you close to him again. “Better?”

“Much, thank you.” You pulled it tighter around you. “Are you having a good time?”

“I am now that I’m with you again,” he leaned in to whisper. “That guy was a real asshole.”

“Wow, shocker.” You rolled your eyes.

Kun snickered. “Are you having a good time?”

“Yeah, it’s alright.”

“Just alright?”

You shrugged, leaning back against him. “Guess it’s better now that I’m with you.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now let’s get you some food.”

Sat down at a table with Kun and a big plate of food, you happily munched away as he kept a casual hand on your thigh, and you tried not to think about his casual hand on your thigh. You were on your second drink already, taking a big gulp every time your eyes happened to stray to Kun’s hand so very casually just on your goddamn thigh.

“So what did you guys talk about?” You finally asked him. “You and the asshole?”

“Oh, you know, what I do for work, education, where we met, how long we’ve been together, that kind of stuff,” Kun shrugged.

You felt your eyes widen immediately. “Do you think he knows?”

“No, baby,” he chuckled, wiping your mouth with a napkin. “He doesn’t know shit.”

“How can you be sure?”

“He felt the need to warn me about the late nights you two do at he office sometimes. He was testing me, like he was going to pull a gotcha on me.”

“We only have to stay that late because he sucks at his job, and as the new person, I’m first on the chopping block for staying late!” You ranted. “And I swear, he does it on purpose just to try to get me alone!”

“Yeah, he tried to make it sound very… scandalous,” Kun shook his head, lip curling with disgust. “I was just really casual and said you make sure to tell me when you stay late so I don’t get worried about you coming home safe. Oh yeah, we live together and we’ve been together since college. That work?”

“Y-Yeah, that’s fine.”

“And I made him promise not to tell you, but—” He had a mischievous grin on his face as he added lowly, “I’m thinking about proposing.”

You almost spit out the bite of food in your mouth as both you and Kun burst into laughter, you slapping his arm with your breathless laughs. He squeezed your leg and rubbed your knee as he half-heartedly tried to shush you.

“Please tell me he looked fucking pissed,” you begged, grabbing his arm.

“He did,” Kun confirmed with a nod.

“Best Christmas present ever, Kun. Thank you.” You wiped at a tear in the corner of your eye, grabbing your drink and finishing it off in one go. “Ahh, I think I want another one, actually.”

“How are you so good at this?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

Kun had loaded a rather tipsy-you back into his car later in the night, and was now taking you back to your apartment.

“What? Driving?” He chuckled. “Been doing it a few years. They gave me a license and everything.”

“No, being my fake boyfriend.” You asked the one thing that had been nagging at the back of your mind the whole time. “You don’t feel weird or anything? Because we’re friends?”

He side-eyed you. “You’re too drunk for this conversation.”

“I’m not drunk!”

“You’re not sober enough for this conversation,” he corrected himself.

“Is it because you like me?”

“Y/N, let’s just focus on getting you home, okay?”

“Because Minji said you looked at me like… you know…”

“And Sookyung said she thought you had a crush on ‘that Kun guy,’” he retorted. “Like I said, let’s save this conversation for when you’re stone cold sober, Y/N.”

“So you don’t like me…” You mumbled dejectedly.

“That’s not what I said.”

You looked out the window, feeling the heavy pout on your face. “But you want me to be sober when you let me down easy so I don’t cry or something.”

“Y/N...” He sighed, looking over at you as he pulled to a stop in front of your apartment. “Oh, jeez, are you crying right now?”

“No…” You sniffed, wiping at a tear.

“Yes, you are, you liar,” Kun said gently.

“Okay, maybe I am.”

“Y/N, I’m not going to let you down easy.”

“You’re going to be mean when you reject me?!” You looked over at him with wide, horrified eyes.

“No, no, what? I’m not going to reject you,” he promised, offering his hand out to you. You cautiously put yours atop it, and he gently squeezed your hand between both of his. “Jeez, Y/N, I’m in love with you. And I wanted you to be sober and not crying when I told you that, but there goes that plan.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ll even let you in on a secret.” He shifted forward conspiratorially. “Sicheng didn’t have to work tonight, I just couldn’t stand the thought of anybody else being your fake boyfriend.”

You sloppily wiped at your wet cheeks with your free hand, whispering back, “Here’s my secret: I was only going to ask him because I knew you would’ve said yes and I thought you didn’t like me like that, and it would’ve sucked to be your fake girlfriend for one night when I wanted you to be my real boyfriend forever.”

“Forever?” He repeated with a giddy grin on his lips.

“Or something, I don’t know, I’m drunk, Kun, remember?” You pointed to yourself zealously.

“I thought you weren’t drunk? You were very insistent—”

“No, I’m sooo drunk, actually. And sleepy! You should cuddle me to sleep.”

“I’ll sit with you until you fall asleep,” he promised.

“But aren’t we for real dating now?” You tilted your head, pouting again.

“We’re going to have this conversation again when you’re sober, okay? Then we can decide if we’re for real anything.”

“You are mean.”

“The meanest, for sure,” he agreed placidly, giving your hand a final pat before reaching over to turn the car off.

Kun helped you up to your apartment, get everything ready for bed, and stepped out of the bedroom while you changed into your pajamas—you had just enough body coordination left to do that on your own. He made you drink some water and take a few pills before finally letting you crawl into bed. As promised, he sat up at the head of your bed next to you as you curled up under the covers.

“Kun?” You sniffled, looking up at him as he rested a gentle hand on your hair.

“Yes?” He looked down at you tenderly.

“Do you really like me?”

“More than.” He patted your head.

“For how long?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Months, years, who’s to say?”

“Oh. I’m sorry...”

“Why?”

“That I didn’t—” you let out a loud yawn, struggling to keep your eyes open. “That I didn’t see it sooner. I just thought you were a really nice guy.”

“I am. I’m a really nice guy who’s in love with you.”

“I don’t know if really nice people go around saying they’re really nice all the time...”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, Y/N. I didn’t tell you.”

“I know, but—”

“You should go to sleep, Y/N.”

“But where are you going to sleep?”

“The couch. I’m staying with you until you fall asleep, though. Remember?”

“Okay...” You yawned again. “If you... If you get cold out there, you can come in here, you know?”

“Right. I’ll keep that in mind,” he agreed, humor in his voice.

“Because it gets really cold in my apartment at night, you know? Sometimes… Sometimes I’d imagine you were with me on really cold nights, cuddling me to sleep.”

“Really?” He questioned, intrigued now.

“Or… other stuff…”

He burst into laughter, stroking your forehead. “You definitely should go to sleep, Y/N, before you say stuff that you’ll have to kill me for knowing.”

“Mmm, okay.” You rolled over, finally letting your eyes flutter shut. “Goodnight, Kun.”

You were asleep before you could even hear his response.

When you woke up for the first time, it was still dark out. Your head hurt, and you chugged the rest of the water on your nightstand before grabbing the cup and shuffling out to the kitchen to get more. As promised, Kun was asleep on your couch, features illuminated softly in the moonlight streaming through a gap in the curtains. You refilled your cup of water, chugged it again, refilled it again, and shuffled over to the living room.

Standing over Kun, you pushed on his shoulder gently. He stirred, opening one eye to look up at you in confusion.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” He murmured, his voice thick and foggy with sleep.

“I’m sober,” you deadpanned. “My bed’s cold.”

He blearily scooted over to make room on your tiny couch, pressing himself into the back cushions. You crammed yourself on mostly on top of him, burying your face in his neck as his arms encircled you. Neither of you said another word as you both drifted back off to sleep.

“You’re in love with me?!” You repeated for probably the fourth time that morning, as Kun held your hair back and you clung to the bowl of your toilet.

“I don’t know how else to phrase this to make you believe me,” Kun sighed as you leaned forward to retch again. “You didn’t hallucinate last night in a drunken stupor, I really do have feelings for you, you also said you have feelings for me, I put you to bed alone and went to sleep on the couch by myself, then in the middle of the night you said you were sober and cold and joined me on the couch.”

You wiped your mouth with a wad of toilet paper he handed you, more memories of last night coming back to you. “Did… Did I say anything else?”

“Like…?”

“About it being cold?” You winced.

“Yeah, you warned me that your apartment gets cold.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“And that sometimes when it gets cold you imagine me—”

“Ah! Stop it!” You shoved him away from you as he burst into maniacal laughter. “You’re the worst! You’re mean and I hate you!”

“But what if I told you that I also imagined holding you on cold nights sometimes?” He scooted back over next to you, draping an arm over your shoulders. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear as he added, “Or… other stuff?”

The bile that rose to your throat was completely coincidental, but certainly not a good look as you apparently hurled at the idea. Kun continued dutifully holding your hair and rubbing your back as you puked.

After flushing for the umpteenth time that morning, you turned back to him incredulously. “Seriously?”

“Is there something about me that gives off the vibe that I’d lie about this?” He rebuffed.

“Well, no—” You stopped to spit into the toilet. “But I feel like there’s plenty about me that would be conducive to that hypothesis.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Kun, we’re having this conversation while I puke my brains out, for one.”

“And what about me would make you think I’m that judgmental?” He snorted. “You do remember the night I successfully defended my thesis, right? Because I don’t.”

“You weren’t that bad.”

“And you weren’t that bad last night either,” Kun brushed a piece of hair from your face, his gaze tender as he looked at you. “Nor are you that bad now either. And even if you were— I’d still love you.”

You felt your eyes water, and not from the burning in your esophagus this time. “Okay…”

“Okay?” He confirmed.

“Okay,” you nodded, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Thank god, I feel like I just defended my thesis again,” he joked, kissing the top of your head.

“You’re so mean to me…” You whined, burying your face in his shirt. “I don’t know why I ever thought you were a nice guy.”

“I’m plenty nice,” he retorted. “You’re just too hungover to notice.”

“So are we like… for real dating now?” You mumbled.

“Yeah, probably.”

You let out a choked laugh at that. “Good to know.”

⤷ 2023 hallmark movie marathon | blog masterlist

[lightwing-s]

hi! this might be a little self indulgent (and it's okay if you don't want to write about it♡) but i was thinking about how jason would comfort reader after she lost her job? or maybe him comforting her in any stressful situation

With a heavy sigh, you threw yourself on the sofa, sitting right beside your boyfriend, who curiously looked up at you from his phone.

Jason noticed your saddened eyes, burning so much from holding back tears, and the pout adorning your lips accompanied by your trembling chin.

“I got fired,” you said softly, answering the question he did not need to mouth.

Throwing his phone on the side table, Jason immediately engulfed you in a tight, long hug. He caressed his hands on your arm, giving you extra warmth as he peppered kisses on top of your head. “Oh, baby! You’ll be alright.”

You held on to him tightly in return, burying your face on his neck and letting a few tears slide. You were not going to cry over this, you were not.

For what might’ve been either hours or just a few minutes, Jason embraced you silently, letting you adjust and understand your emotions before speaking up.

“Do you have any plans?” he asked. Being your answer yes or no, he was already plotting a plan of his own. You gave your answer by shaking your head, not daring to lift it from its position. “Alright, we’ll figure things out. I’ll help you with whatever you need until then, okay?”

He pulled away, forcing you to look up at him. He looked at you with soft, careful eyes, eyes that brought you more warmth than his arms ever could. In it, he hoped you’d see that by whatever he meant everything. Everything you needed he’d do it for you.

He’d help you type and edit your résumé, making sure it looked appealing to whatever jobs you were after. He’d take you to all your interviews, always arriving early because it would leave a good impression of you. If you didn’t have much money saved, he’d have you eat at his house, shower, god damn it he’d even let you move in if it meant you wouldn’t worry about money.

He’d ask Bruce for tips to help you get hired, and if your job was something available within Wayne Enterprises, he’d quietly let Bruce know he should consider offering you a position (perhaps threatening him a little just for fun with a gun and full on Red Hood gear).

He’d be the best boyfriend ever because he’d make sure you were cared for during this period, feeding you, treating you to gifts and little outings to forget about job hunting just for a while. He’d also make sure you’d only accept a spot that he saw as valuable, not filler jobs just for the sake of it, but one that could really offer you a good opportunity, career growth and a nice future.

And when the day you arrive home, all happy and excited, rambling out words to let him know that you’d gotten a new job, he’d let out some tears. Proud of his girl, proud of you for never giving up.

[mariacallous]

Over the past few weeks, Vice President Kamala Harris and former president Donald Trump have both made some huge plays to attract specific groups of men: young ones, in Trump’s case, and white ones, in Harris’.

Harris’ supporters have been hosting huge Zoom calls organizing “white dudes,” while Trump’s made appearances on a wide assortment of fratty podcasts and livestreams. The campaigns’ strategies with these voters are completely different, and they’re each creating their own vision for what masculinity could look like in their parties.

Let’s talk about it.

How Trump and Walz Are Redefining Masculinity

Before this week, Adin Ross, the 23-year-old streamer, had been known for playing NBA 2K, allegedly inadvertently tipping off authorities about accused rapist and human trafficker Andrew Tate’s plans to flee Romania, and getting kicked off Twitch for spewing slurs and hosting the white nationalist Nick Fuentes. This is certainly not the best résumé when applying to become a political commentator, but it was enough for Donald Trump to stream with him for more than an hour at his Mar-a-Lago home on Monday in what equated to a virtual campaign stop, complete with Ross apparently committing a campaign finance violation by gifting Trump with a gaudily-decorated Cybertruck.

The Ross stream is just the latest in a series of streams, podcasts, and TikTok appearances Trump has made with a specific subset of hypermasculine creators who cater to an audience of politically disaffected young men. Trump has long catered to this group, acknowledging their support across fringe parts of the internet in the run-up to his election as president in 2016. But this cycle, he’s engaging with them more directly—appearing, for example, at UFC events—in the apparent belief that this will help turn out younger voters.

The partisan gap between young men and women voters has nearly doubled over the past 25 years, with men growing increasingly more conservative, according to recent polls. With these numbers, you’d think Trump would have little to worry about with this demographic, but some experts suggest that despite this growing divide, the likelihood of young men between the ages of 18 and 29 actually going to the polls might be low.

“He’s trying to pull out base intensity. These young men often don't vote, especially the newcomers to the field,” says Rachel Kleinfeld, a fellow at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. “Getting them to care enough to come vote—it's easier if it's something more emotional. All politics runs on emotion.”

She continued: “Most cultures have rites of passage to grow up. It's not an easy thing to do, and we don't in America. And we lost, for a generation, a lot of traditional role models … What we got in their place were these internet influencers and celebrities whom a lot of people aspire to be now.”

Democrats are attempting to create their own contrasting vision for masculinity in light of Trump embracing these creators. Last week, Mike Nellis, a Democratic digital strategist, helped organize the White Dudes for Harris organizing call, where dozens of white male politicians and celebrities spoke to thousands of their white male counterparts about voting for Harris. Throughout the call, many of the speakers—including Harris’ veep pick, Tim Walz—made the case for these same disaffected young men to abandon the Republican Party.

“I think that there are millions and millions of white dudes in this country who are sick and tired of MAGA politics and who reject Project 2025 and need a model and permission structure for something else, and so that’s what we’re doing with White Dudes for Harris,” says Nellis.

Nellis saw Harris’ decision to bring Walz onto her ticket as another play at attracting white male voters. “The guy's a father, and what would be like a ‘real man’ on paper. But here he is supporting and advocating for women's rights. He's campaigning for a woman of color for president. He's talking about ending gun violence,” says Nellis. “There are new models out there, and so I think that there's a fight over what it means to be a man.”

“We've had a cultural problem with young men for a number of years that is now becoming a political problem, and both parties are recognizing it,” says Kleinfeld.

Back in 2019, I profiled a YouTuber named Joey Salads who was running for a Staten Island House seat against Nicole Malliotakis. He never stood a chance at winning, but his Instagram model girlfriend, nice cars, and 10 million followers convinced him he had a shot. Salads admired Trump, seeing him as someone for whom the rules also did not apply in the pursuit of money and success.

4chan incels and hypermasculine YouTube pranksters had been viewing Trump as a role model even before the former president was elected. In 2024, those influencers and brainrotted forum posters have more influence than ever, and they’re paying it forward to the man who made it all possible.

“In a way, they’re kind of like post-incels, having overcome some of their inceldom with fame and followers but retaining the resentments and insecurities that get expressed in bizarre ways,” Jack Z. Bratich, a communications expert and professor at Rutgers University, tells me. “It’s possible Trump’s campaign is trying to extend their reach with these types, or else they are just seeking to increase the voting numbers of young men and happen to have stumbled upon this new mutation of online youth.”

Around 49 percent of young white men voted in the 2020 election, according to data from the Center for American Women and Politics. That’s a nine point increase from 2016.

[firespirited]

I can't believe I'm the one to have to say this as I'm not keen on cabaret culture but Le Crazy Horse is not some random gentleman's club or nudie bar, but a prestigious Cirque du Soleil style dance troupe. The dancers are prima ballerina-like athletes who happen to perform near nude. We're talking a-cups and a full 8 pack of abs to even get an audition. It's considered an honour to perform there, quite a few cross over from ballet.

I happen to believe that strippers and exotic dancers are skilled performers who do a physically taxing and emotionally intelligent job so I consider some of the Atlanta strip clubs on the same professional level as a Vegas revue.

But seeing the parisian Crazy Horse described as similar to the red light district Amsterdam Bananenbar feels iffy given the cultural cachet given to getting to perform there as a musician, magician or dancer. It's regularly sponsored by Louboutin and very expensive lingerie brands. I don't mean to insult the Bananenbar ladies either because woof that must take quite some skill but it's not going on bold on your dancers résumé in the same way.

Inviting people to Bananenbar is a bachelorette party/hen night kind of vibe, inviting someone to Le Crazy Horse is considered classy and fancy, especially if you're into dance. I imagine Bananenbar ladies make more in tips but Crazy Horse ladies (it is not a well paid gig at 30k a year) get to cash in on prestige for future jobs.

[ingravinoveritas]

Follow-up to this post and a point-by-point recap of last night's events:

- Definitely thought I would be nervous, but as soon as I saw Neil waiting backstage from the vantage of my fourth row seat, all that went away.

- The event was a tribute to Ray Bradbury, with Neil and several actors reading different short stories and Neil talking about them in between. He started off the night by talking about being a TikTok meme ("Neil Gaiman, why are you in my falafel?") and how his time as a meme was almost up.

- There was an after party in the bar following the show, and the ticket I had purchased allowed me to attend. I didn't even realize Neil was there yet because he was so low profile and just chilling while a line began to form at his table.

- When I went up to him, he was very smiley and kind and soft-spoken. I mentioned really enjoying the Bradbury story he read ("The Homecoming") because it felt like an allegory for autism, for an autistic person in a family full of neurotypicals, and it really resonated with me. So we talked Ray Bradbury and writing and it was lovely. - I also mentioned the tweets from a few years ago (here and here) that involved him commenting on a photo of me in a red bikini and me offering to cook him dinner if he came to New Jersey, and he remembered! Haha. He also still seemed very interested in the offer and said, "It's a date" and "We'll do dinner." Oh, Neil... - At the end, I somehow finally remembered to tell him my name and said "I'm Amy" as we shook hands. To which he replied, "It's lovely to meet you, Amy. I'm Neil." - After we took the picture, I wished Neil a good flight (the venue staff said they were trying to hurry up the queue because he had an early flight today) and safe travels, and he said "Thank you!" and was again so sweet and lovely and just a person. - Didn't talk to Neil about anything Good Omens, but I did end up chatting with a woman who knows Rob Wilkins (someone waiting in the queue asked Neil how to get in touch with Rob and he pointed to this woman, so that was how I first became aware of her). Later on in the evening, after Neil left, we were on the other side of the bar and struck up a conversation about all things GO, Terry Pratchett, fandoms, Michael and David's chemistry, and much more. She also told me to follow her on Instagram and message her if I ever needed tips for navigating the overwhelm that is NYCC. A totally unexpected and thoroughly enjoyable conversation overall. - Also got to talk with Yetide Badaki (who was in American Gods and one of the actors who performed last night) and she was beyond lovely. I complimented her performance and said how it was "like Siri, but less creepy" and she burst out laughing and asked if she could put that in her résumé. Haha. The topic of autism came up and she said how it was so important to her and how there needs to be more awareness. I mentioned being a professional speaker and that I've done a TED talk on autism, and she said she wanted to watch it. Again, completely unexpected interaction, but so delightful and so much fun.

My overall thoughts and takeaway from this is that real life is very, very much different and not the same thing at all as online fandom. It was incredibly refreshing to see Neil and talk to him in a non-fandom context, and to see how gracious he was with every person in line (adults, kids, couples, all of it). He signed books, took pictures with people, and hugged fans who seemed to be sharing particularly emotional moments. I feel like the fandom tends to treat Neil like some kind of god, but for me, I truly enjoyed seeing and getting to meet him as a person--charming, intelligent, funny, polite, and just a bit awkward...

[tinyfurysandwich]

Muse.

the color of your tiptoes are underlined in pain

wearing

same mistakes again

and again

and

again .

questions are answers you barely know

slipping outside of your window ,

truth escapes your roots

and it hurts to press it

while it still blows .

oh , what a foolish and pretending man you are ,

like a cover of a résumé ,

distinguished , yet afraid

to touch the tip of my lips

without letting my grip slip ,

tone out of reach ,

with a husky , voice deep ,

haunting , inspiring and neat

like a pleasing feeling

tickling me , kissing my fingers

- you're art , unavoidable , breathtaking

tearing everything apart , a daydreamer .

-t.f.s.

[chillitnz]

Is Your CV Costing You Interviews? 5 Common Mistakes to Fix NOW

We’ve all been there. You spend HOURS crafting the perfect CV (or résumé, if that’s your preferred term!), hit submit, and…crickets. It’s frustrating! Often, it’s not about your experience; it’s small mistakes that send your application to the digital trash bin. That’s why I’ve created a FREE “CV Mistakes to Avoid” checklist. It pinpoints the most common issues that can sabotage an otherwise…

[01zfan]

cracking my knuckles ok thought long and hard about my 01zfan top 5 list (i have so much time on my hands now post grad LOL),, this was so hard to consolidate into just 5

1. understanding my faith: the religious imagery and the sinful subversion of such metaphors nobody’s doing it like you 😭 i remember reading pt 2 for the first time and feeling like my world shifted on its axis good lord

2. your birthday: and where are the eunseok girlz at. i fawking love this one bc eunseok is put in his place lowkey in like an endearing way. big fan of him being a needy ass man subtly written through him wanting to move in together, visiting u at campus, etc. idk what it is but this piece is so magical to me like when he’s almost jawslacked to see yn in lingerie 😭

3. trigger finger: if tf has no fans then i’m dead. “i’m better than that” “he’s captivated by the way you dumbly nod your head”, the overstimulation, and so on and so forth. i think We All™️ love the idea of down bad sungchan flipping a switch out of nowhere!!! the aftercare…i will combust

4. savior: idk how the filming/crew industry works but if you ever had to submit any of your pieces as a résumé of some sorts it would 100% be this one!!! this was truly otherworldly and the imagery intertwined with religion to explore both sexuality and guilt wow wow chefs kiss

5. miss you more: the details in this my god. picking at the bed sheets. the memories. eunseok trying to steal a glance the whole time. “i think i was made for you” PEOPLE DIED BFNSHDHBSJS…. this was every bit heart wrenching as it was optimistic

honorable mentions: bike peg (her crown tipped just a bit right after i finished miss you more but this one still eats),, three’s a crowd (started getting into my fujo bag after challengers), the whole sacrilegious series again just love the themes of temptation and exploration of sexuality in vastly different ways, and how you portray it bc tbh a lot of people just write “lol sex in a church” for the sake of writing like a sexy religious bastardization piece which is fine but this series has so much depth and rich emotions i would fawking love to see each piece as its own separate episode in an anthology like omg?????

OMGGGG I WAS WAITING TO SEE YOUR TOP FIVE. our lists are kinda similar you just get my eunseok fics like this man is a big softie no one understands…also i remember vividly seeing you reblog umf with your tags and i was like yeah maybe this IS really good. ALSO TRIGGER FINGER BRAHHHHH sometimes i go back and reread that one just for funsies. thank you for supporting the sacrilegious series so much im glad you enjoyed it as much as i liked writing it😭 i really appreciate you🫂🫂🫂❤️ my fujo sister🫂🫂

[ccfever]

I’m so bored by the angel vs Caitlin stuff even if it is good for the league bc I do not enjoy watching angel or sky play except for when Chennedy is going off and even then I don’t really watch. Sky v fever games are fun though. I’m looking to the future which is Aja vs Caitlin but even Aja didn’t have to beat maya at prime goat status because maya quit the race man. and also as for paige vs Caitlin which moves me a bit bc it’s for the new gen and something cute for the younger TikTok viewers I need Caitlin to dead that shit once and for all when she gets to the league because even final four did nothing bc it was really Hannah’s game. I am so annoyed at UConn fans STILL going off even after that embarrassment of a game saying wait till paige reminds you her injury made yall forget… like forget WHAT I remember watching Caitlin her freshman year with a lame ass team (I love yall) or aari McDonald both deadass have just as good of a season if not a better season than paige and I remember even lamecocks complaining that paige got all the coverage and Caitlin got none in comparison. Hilarious to think about now

first of all thank you for the essay second of all i agree 👍

the sky do not play a style that moves me but carter going off especially against the aces was entertaining. that’s the only sky game i watched that’s not against the fever and i did just because i found it interesting that they were leading. i’m always on fraud watch for top teams

that being said yeah i don’t really care for any of the ROTY stuff anymore because they set angel up so bad by making her out to be this generational player that’s gonna be the magic to caitlin’s bird when in truth caitlin is magic and bird combined. she’s jordan, she’s lebron, she’s steph. just one of those undisputed great players that you can’t help but tip your hat to. now we have people undermining both these rookies’ accomplishments just to one-up the other when it was never really like that.

as for paige... her fans have bigger fish to fry. sorry but that debate has been over for years. if she goes off then good for her. but my rook is in a different stratosphere now and i don’t really care if her fans want to say she’s a better player. if she is then good for you. but if you want to compare college career résumés, the data is there. next year she’ll get drafted to the wnba, and y’all can compare her numbers to caitlin’s numbers this year if y’all want.

but idgaf. my sights are set on this offseason and the moves we can make to get this team rolling because i genuinely believe with a defensive guard and some 3&D wings we can make a finals push next year.

and, of course, with a good head coach lmfao

that’s where my mind’s at right now. idgaf about all that other shit, but hey. good for them ig

[icedmetaltea]

Oooooh

I’m sorry I’m replying so late to a question from days ago.

The way to get experience for jobs is to do volunteer work and job shadowing. I think there’s also internships to get at some places depending on what type of job you want.

You can make a résumé now that tells what you’re good at and your accomplishments along with a few hobbies and just add to it as you see fit. It will cause less stress in the future.

A single job is not a lifetime commitment. Also don’t sign contracts that legally bind you to the place, it causes too many headaches and stress.

The two weeks notice is just you being polite it’s not mandatory.

Do not go unpaid for working even if it’s away from work. You’re using up your free time for nothing that way. Do not do extra work for a long time without a pay raise cause they’ll see you as free labor that way and work you ragged.

Lastly if you start a business make sure it’s an LLC so that you don’t lose everything you work so hard for.

An LLC is a Limited Liability Company and it makes sure you can’t be sued out of house and home.

Thank you, these are really great tips!!

[shriekingpotatos]

Okay everyone I’ve been MIA for a while since I haven’t been working and there’s no tales from the sales floor if I’m not on the sales floor BUT

I have an interview this Saturday at a really nice restaurant for a server position ($10/hr plus tips on plates that average $45 a pop? Say less)

So please send me all the good vibes.

Im nervous.

I haven’t had an interview in 5 years lmfaooo

P.S. I asked @mylifeasaserver to look over my résumé and let me know if it looked fine (since I haven’t written one in like 10 years) and he sent back, uh… interesting changes.

If anyone wants to see it, I’ll block out my info and post it 😂

He is a menace to society. A menace to me, at least

[ao3cassandraic]

I know you work in a college - do you have any tips for people applying to graduate assistantships while getting their MLIS?

It's pretty much like any other job application. In your résumé, highlight relevant knowledge (especially important for teaching assistantships), skills, and experience. Write a good cover letter (MLIS degree seekers tend to be verbally skilled, so you have a leg up there).

You are not necessarily limited to assistantships offered in/by the department your library program is in. If you can math, or Spanish, or organic-chemist, or Python/Java program, or write real good, look for TAships in the appropriate departments too.