and then i remember your smile

Blue Scarf

Summary: Her scarf flies into Tom’s face and as if the awkwardness that followed wasn’t bad enough, he walks into her work too.

Pairings: Reader(?) x Tom Holland

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Some swearing.

A/n: Roses are really expensive, you guys. Who knew? But yeah, I don’t know how I feel about this piece tbh. Let me know what you think so I can make up my mind about whether I like it or not lol. And I know this one isn’t very Tom heavy but I promise my next one will be :D


The wind blew furiously today. She tugged her coat tighter around her and hunched her shoulders to protect her exposed ears from the chilly assault. Her face was numb; she couldn’t even feel the pain of the wind whipping her cheeks anymore. As she reached to grab the purse swinging wildly at her hip, a gust of wind caught the end of her scarf, blowing it behind her. Because it wasn’t wrapped around her neck, the force of the wind simply yanked it free, and suddenly her scarf was flying through the air.

She gasped and spun around trying to locate her neckwear. She caught sight of it zigzagging through imaginary obstacles. Its bright blue allowed her to track its path as she gave chase. She ducked and weaved past the people, finally coming to a halt as she witnessed her scarf get blown right around some poor, unsuspecting pedestrian’s face. She watched as they stopped mid-step, frozen for a millisecond but clambering to free themselves immediately. She rushed up to them, apologies on the tip of her tongue.

“I’m so sor– “

She cut herself off. Words simply left her brain as the stranger pulled the scarf down. Her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

Wow, you are gorgeous!

“Um… thank you?”

“Huh?”

“You, uh, you said I was gorgeous,” she heard him say, registering the eloquent British accent.

As if he wasn’t stunningly attractive, he had to sound like that?

How is that fair?

“How is what fair?”

The perplexed expression on his face pulled her out of her reverie.

“What?”

“You said ‘How is that fair?’ What were you referring to?” he repeated.

I said that out loud?

“Yeah, you did,” he said, puzzlement becoming bemusement.

Oh, shit.

“I – I was referring to… Um, see, what I meant was –,” she scrambled to come up with an excuse. Her mind failing her, she shifted her gaze to the floor, a blush creeping up her face.

An agonising, awkward silence followed.

“Uh, anyway…,” his smile faltered, the odd conversation losing its charm.

“Here’s your scarf,” he said as he looped it around her neck. “Now you won’t lose it, again.”

Pursing his lips together in a polite smile, he moved past her and continued on his way. She stood there, dumbstruck.

What just happened?

She turned around, catching a glimpse of his slicked-back curls.

“Thank you!” she called out. He kept walking though, not hearing her.

*

The bell on the corner of the door rang as she opened it.

“Morning,” her friend called, not looking up from her flower arrangement. “We got to get that Truscott Gala order done by four today. Are you okay to work register while I work on that?”

“Oh, morning, Stel,” she responded, coming out of her thoughts. She had been replaying her brief encounter with the pretty, British man in her head, feeling more and more stupid each time.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” she said, pulling off her coat and exchanging it for her apron. She kept the scarf on.

“What’s up with you?” her friend finally looked up, giving her a questioning look.

Crossing the too-long apron strings, she pulled them in front of her and tied a bow.

“You would not believe what an idiot I am, Stel,” she replied.

“I would, but go on,” her friend prompts.

“I was walking to work today and you know how it was really windy? Well, my scarf blew away and it landed on this guy’s face,” she recounted as she walked over to the window, flipping the ‘Closed’ sign to the ‘We’re Open’ side.

“And Stel, oh my god, this guy was so hot. Like, crazy, too-beautiful-to-be-real, smoking, kind of hot. And –,” she paused, “He was British!”

“Let me guess. You totally embarrassed yourself, right? Am I right?” her friend guessed.

Sighing in defeat, she looked at her friend. “Yes.”

“Oh, it was so bad. The first thing I said to him was ‘Wow, you’re gorgeous’. I mean, what kind of creep says that to a stranger they literally just met?”

“Uh, you?”

“I know,” she cried. “It just got more awkward from there, and I think he got a little freaked out because I was being so weird.”

“Well, duh.”

“But then he did the sweetest thing. He wrapped the scarf around my neck and goes ‘Here’s you scarf, now you won’t lose it again’,” she finished, imitating his accent. She snuggled into the scarf, recalling the way he had leaned in to place it around her. She could still vaguely remember his cologne, something classy and subtle.

“Okay, you weirdo, you can keep dreaming about all the different ways you should have handled that situation, later,” Stel pulled her back to the world. “Right now I need you on the register, paying attention. I’m going to the back to finish these flower arrangements. Call if you need anything.”

With that, Stel collected her tools and tulips and disappeared into the back room.

Smiling at her friend’s words, she went about preparing for the day ahead.

*

“Have a lovely afternoon,” she handed the bouquet of carnations to the man, just as the doorbell chimed again.

Her eyes scanned the small shop, looking to see who she would next offer her help to when she spotted the newcomer. His back was to her but she recognised his slicked-back brown curls. She froze.

“Oh no,” she whispered under her breath. She quickly ducked beneath the counter, trying to think of an escape route. She whipped her head left and right, racking her brain for a solution. Stel was in the back, if she could just get her attention, she could make her deal with him instead. He wouldn’t even have to know she was here.

Dropping to her hands and knees, she slowly crawled across the floor towards the doorway connecting the shopfront to the back room. It was situated several feet to the left. Keeping against the wall, she prayed he wouldn’t notice her when she was no longer hidden by the counter. As she reached the edge of her protective wall, she hesitated before taking a deep breath and continuing out into the open.

“Please don’t see me, please don’t see me,” she muttered. She was almost there, only a few more inches.

“Excuse me?”

Hearing the familiar voice behind her, she squeezed her eyes shut.

Shit.

She inhaled and stood. Her back straight and chin up, she pumped herself to turn around and face him. There was nothing else she could do at this point. This was it; she had to answer to the humiliation.

Oh, god.

But then at the last possible second, she squeaked, “Be right back,” and darted through the doorway.

Leaning against the wall, out of sight, she exhaled.

Phew, that was close.

“What are you doing?”

She jumped.

“Jesus, Stel! You scared me,” she whisper-yelled, hand over her heart.

Stel raised her eyebrow at her.

“Shit, Stel, it’s the guy! The British guy from this morning, he’s out there right now.”

She peeped around the doorframe. He was looking at the roses.

“What? Where? Let me see,” Stel exclaimed, scrambling to peer into the shop as well.

“Shh, he’ll hear you.”

“Oh man, you weren’t kidding. He is gorgeous.”

“Right?” she asked in agreement.

“Well get out there.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“No… now’s your chance to go show him you aren’t a total weirdo and get his number,” she stated, matter-of-factly. When she was met with an astonished expression, she nodded her head in encouragement.

“I don’t think –,” she began to protest but Stel shoved her out the door and into the shop. Her stumble caused him to turn towards her. She glared back at Stel before putting on her best customer service smile and walking behind the counter once more.

She could see the recognition dawning on his face and she cursed mentally. She was hoping he wouldn’t remember her but clearly he did. She could sense Stel in the other room, waiting to hear his reaction. She prepared herself for the worst.

“May I get a dozen red roses, please?”

“Huh?”

Wait, maybe he didn’t recognise her after all.

“A dozen red roses?” he repeated, “Please.”

Oh.

He really didn’t remember her.

She moved to where the roses were located, stepping past him. She caught a whiff of his cologne and was surprised to realise she was disappointed. He was probably buying the roses for his girlfriend. Why would he remember some random girl he met in the street when he already has a beautiful one to buy a dozen red roses for?

Picking out twelve of the best flowers, she returned to the counter. She bunched them into a bouquet, very aware of him watching her. She suddenly felt very warm, uncomfortably warm. Placing the roses down on the countertop, she unravelled her scarf. She put it by the register and continued the order.

Tying the bow, she looked up at him and plastered a smile on her face.

“That’ll be $38.95,” she said.

They completed the transaction and she handed him the bouquet.

“Have a lovely day!”

“Thanks, you too.”

He took the flowers and walked out the shop. She watched him go, sadness overcoming her. Stel came out and stood beside her.

“Man, I can’t believe he didn’t remember you.”

“Yeah.”

She began to clear away the scraps and cut-offs. Hearing the bell chime again, she looked up to greet the new customer. Her fake cheeriness dropped, replaced by shock, when she saw who it was.

“My mum won’t mind if I only give her eleven roses.”

He held out a single red rose, one she had wrapped into his bouquet, only moments ago. He also held the receipt, on it was scribbled some numbers.

She looked at him, bewildered. She tentatively reached out and took the rose and piece of paper.

“I – I thought you didn’t –,” she stammered.

“How many cute girls are there in this town who wear bright blue scarves?” he grinned.

“I…”

“Call me.”

Then he left. She was dumbfounded. She looked down at the receipt in her hand. There was a name alongside the number.

Tom.

Japanese laughing onomatopoeia 擬声語(gi-sei-go)

Even if they are similar events, different quantities or qualities produce different sounds.  As another example, let’s take a laughing onomatopoeia 擬声語 (gi-sei-go) sound.

When a man laughs uninhibitedly, it’s a loud laugh: ゲラゲラ(ge-ra-ge-ra)

Women could laugh this way, but in Japan where male chauvinism is still rampant, they may be frowned upon by both men and women.  Also, this sound should not be confused with the sound of someone vomiting: ゲロゲロ (ge-ro-ge-ro).

A young woman laughing ケラケラ (ke-ra-ke-ra) is a sign that she’s having a lot of fun talking with you.

But do not mix this up with a similar sound ケロケロ(ke-ro-ke-ro), because if she laughs like that, she is in fact a frog in disguise, not human!

A little girl chuckles silently クスクス(ku-su-ku-su), that’s cute.

A young man laughing ヘラヘラ (he-ra-he-ra) is not very agreeable.  Depending on the situation, it’s a bit unnerving.  He could be also slightly drunk.

It’s even worse if someone is laughing エヘラエヘラ (e-he-ra-e-he-ra).  If this is your teenage son,  you should smack his head.  He needs to be more serious, show more respect!

It’s a big hit if someone laughs ヒーヒー (hih-hih) at your joke with tears coming out from his eyes. It’s so funny he can barely breathe!

If you are smiling ニコニコ (ni-ko-ni-ko) all the time, it’s impossible for anyone to hate you.  Such a smile is highly infectious.  The best kind of smile!

If my friend is grinning ニヤニヤ (ni-ya-ni-ya), I might feel a bit uncomfortable, because he may be secretively laughing at something about me.  But then again, he may be just remembering a fond memory from his last date.

ニタニタ (ni-ta-ni-ta) is a rather obscene way of grinning.  Certainly gentlemen will not smile ニタニタ (ni-ta-ni-ta)  in front of ladies.

Now, in the last three smiles ニコニコ (ni-ko-ni-ko), ニヤニヤ (ni-ya-ni-ya) and ニタニタ (ni-ta-ni-ta), these people are not really making any sound as they smile in these ways.  They are all silent smiles.  But Japanese can hear them!  As I write below, Japanese have developed highly sensitive ears so that they can hear the would-be sound from almost anything!  Namely, Japanese language answers  what kind of sound they would make if they could!

Send me an ACOTAR emoji with or without the caption!

🐺 : Remember that you are a wolf. And you cannot be caged.

😳 : I want to start talking to you but I’m too scared you’ll reject my mating bond.

🌿 : You’re gentle and sweet like Elain. You’ve made me smile before.

✨ : There you are, I’ve been looking for you and now I’ve found the perfect blog.

🌡 :  Your lips are looking as pale as Kallias’ lips. Want me to warm them?

💯 : I would trek down Prythian just to find a perfect blog like yours.

👏 : Feyre would be proud! Your theme is awesome!

💤 : GO TO BED CASSIAN.

💞 : Talking to you or seeing you on my dash makes me feel better.

🤷‍♀️ : Your hair is… clean.

🌚 : Whenever I see you on my notifications, I want to pull an Azriel and disappear into the shadows.

👠 : You seem sad. You’re welcome to throw your shoe at me if it’ll make you feel better.

🏡 : I’d love you even if you’re human.

🌌 : I would have waited five hundred more years for you to follow me. A thousand years. And if this was all the time we were allowed to have… the wait was worth it.

🤝 : You’re loyal like the Inner Court. I can always rely on you to like/reply to my personal posts.

🌗 : You’re sweet, but I want to get to know the real you behind the shadows.

🌳 : You must work as hard as Alis to keep your blog amazing!

🛫 : You’re from the Winter Court and I’m from the Autumn Court, but I still want to make this relationship work.

💐 : I don’t want to ever ACOMAF Feyre upset you.

🐱 : You’re cute like Bryaxis!!

🥊️ : You seem unhappy. Do you want to spar it out with Cassian?

📲 : Keep winnowing into my notifications! I like it.

🌙 : You deserve a Rhysand.

👩‍🌾 : Elain encourages you to go out more and garden instead of being online all the time.

⛰️ : I would go Under the Mountain to save you.

🐶 : If you were a cute/scary creature, I would adopt you.

🥓 : We’re BFF’s like Cassian and Azriel.

🦊 : I would be the most loyal friend to you Lucien style.

🏃 : I would trek through the human lands to get to the wall just to save you.

🍲 : This is the soup I would make you!

💎 : I’m secretly jealous of you! (in a good way)

🏖  You need to chill out Tarquin style.

💃 : I wish I could take you out to Rita’s.

🏩 : Are you Thesan? You’ve healed my heart with your beautiful posts.

🏇 : Against all hope, despite all odds, please don’t unfollow me.

🤗 : Whenever I see you on my dashboard, I feel like Mor when she saw Vivianne at the High Lords meeting.

👑 : You’re so beautiful I want to rule a court of Prythian with you.

⚔️ : You would make the greatest Commanding General of Armies (even better than Cassian tbh)

🚣 : I would gather ships and sail to save you.

🦇 : I can’t believe I haven’t been following a perfect blog like yours but now I will to every court of Prythian.

💥 : You do not fear. You do not falter. You do not yield.

💘 : I know we’re mates just from following your blog alone.

👭 : I would love to give you some sisterly advice.

🌞 : You shine like Helion aka the sun.

🎨 : I want to draw or paint you!

🔥 : Your fashion sense is on point. Rhys would be proud.

🛩 : I wish we lived closer to each other and not in different Courts.

💌 : I want to join your Inner Circle.

💐 : I may have a 500-year crush on you.

🖤 : You’re shy like Azriel, but I really like you.

😚 : We have a great friendship just like Lucien and Feyre.

 💙 : It’s more than love. We’re mates.

sweet medicine (ray/saeran x mc)

rating: all ages (very tiny v route spoilers)

notes: i finished v route a couple days ago and i’ve been thirsting for fluffy ray/saeran content like no one’s business ever since. i asked a friend for a prompt and so this sickfic was born. i hope it’s fluffy enough because apparently ‘my soul is most at ease when i make my readers weep with angst.’ LOL. anyway, it’s my first time writing ‘ray’ so i hope people enjoy. ;;

Keep reading

Sovreignty (for queennymeria)

commissioned by the lovely @queennymeria - her arianne cousland and alistair!
art by @noctuaalba - fic by me

The meeting had gone on far longer than expected. The sky was growing dark by the time the Banns took their leave, and there were many irritated whispers about the late hour as they filtered slowly out of the throne room.

Some dawdled, hovering around in the hopes of requesting some favour from the crown, but the royal steward dutifully ushered them out. Eventually he too departed, leaving the King and Queen alone in the high-ceilinged chamber.

Keep reading

4

“Promise me you’ll always remember: You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”

Mel @dinglehorton  your sweet nature and generous heart are part of what makes you a very special person to me and so many others. I want to wish you a fantastic birthday and a year of pure happiness. Thank you for making the world a better place. I wish you the world, coz that’s what you deserve! May your birthday and every day be filled with the warmth of sunshine, the happiness of smiles, the sounds of laughter, the feeling of love and the sharing of good cheer. Love you girl ♥♥♥ Stay as wonderful as you are!

Eros - Bar AU [Season 2] Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: THIS PIECE IS A MYSTIC MESSENGER AU.  IT IS HEAVILY INSPIRED BY THE AMERICAN SITCOM CHEERS, A SHOW CENTERED AROUND A BOSTON BAR CALLED CHEERS AND IT’S REGULARS.  EVEN THOUGH I HAVE TRIED TO KEEP AS MUCH OF CANON PERSONALITIES WITH ALL THE MYSTIC MESSENGER CHARACTERS JUST REMEMBER THAT IT IS AN AU AND A FEW THINGS MAY BE DIFFERENT THAN IN GAME OR YOUR HEADCANONS. THIS HAS BEEN FUN TO PLAN AND I HOPE YOU FIND A BIT OF JOY READING IT!  

PG13+ FOR SWEARIN’ AND BOOZIN’.

[Season 1]

[Season 2] | Prologue | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 |


Keep reading

2

Dear Rowie, 

I am terribly sorry we never got in touch with you before you left London. Mabel was ill in bed when you wrote, and I confess I misread your letter in a great hurry and remembered the wrong day you put down, and when I was away at Arundel last week, I suddenly was reminded of your letter and of course it was too late by then!

The baby is wonderful - good as gold, trying to sit up and weighing 15 lbs 12! He smiles and giggles at everyone, and makes everyone happy! Charles I’m thankful to say, is better but very frail as yet. I hope we see you when we return in October.

- Letter written by Queen Elizabeth II on Aug 5, 1964 to midwife Helen Rowe. 

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-4865282/Letter-Queen-midwife-unearthed.html

I’m having the hardest time putting into words how I feel. I knew there was something wrong when I last talked to you and I don’t think you would’ve told me even if I pressed you for it and that’s ok I’m not mad. I’m sorry I didn’t make it to your shows or your party but we always tell ourselves next time this and next time that and I wish I planned better but I am working on that but that doesn’t help us now does it? I’ll miss the jokes and getting too drunk to remember buses or show eachother a new song or band we like. You had an infectious smile and how welcoming you were when I first moved to Oregon. You really were one of the first people I met up. I missed talking to you then and it’s really hard now not to I keep thinking it’s some bad dream I wanna wake up from and hit you up letting you know I’ve been thinking of you. I don’t know what you went through and it seems desperate to ask now but I hope you found some peace and if there is an afterlife I hope you got a porch to drink on and play your renditions of songs we sang to get the party going. You’ll be more then missed and I’ll see you soon to give you a temporary goodbye cuz I’ll see you again and ou better have beer when I do. Sleep well Kayla

4

I know we all appreciate when Jack gushes over games, but honestly there’s something so special and so pure about watching a musician in his element. Music is such a personal thing for a person, and how it affects us all is different. From someone who relies heavily on music and who has dabbled with instruments and knows that personal energy and freedom when you get a song down, thank you for sharing this video with us. It’s amazing to see him so happy and at ease in his own element – I can’t wait for more.

Viktor Nikiforov is ABSOLUTELY the kind of person to wake up from anesthesia after dental work and remember the exact base score value of a quadruple toe loop, but not his own husband’s name.

“How are you feeling, Vitya?”

“WHO ARE YOU?” Viktor’s mouth is, of course, full of cotton balls, so it comes out as “WOO ROOO???” but Yuuri’s been married to him for three years. He gets the gist.

“I’m Yuuri.” 

“ARE YOU AN ANGEL?”

“No, I’m your husband.”

“NO WAAAAAAY.” Viktor smiles so wide that a cotton ball and some spit come out of his mouth.

“Gross, Vitya.” Yuuri leans over to wipe his chin. “You’re worse than Makkachin.”

“Whoooo?”

“Your dog.”

“I HAVE A DOG?!” Viktor tries to put his hands on his heart–he ends up just grabbing one pec in each hand, effectively groping himself. “THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.”

I am in my own Harry Potter AU hell.

And just because I can:

“Dad…” 

Malfoy looked up from his desk, quill poised over the parchment as his son hovered by the study door. Aware that he was frowning, Draco lifted his expression into something more neutral. He was vaguely aware of his own father always frowning whenever he’d tried to talk to him as a boy, and he didn’t want Scorpius to one day think the same about him.

“Come in, come in. Shut the door, you’ll let the heat out.” 

The Greengrass estate was a crumbling ruin compared to Malfoy Manner, with only half the library and none of the artifacts Draco had spent the last few years archiving and putting safely away behind spelled glass. But for now it was home, chilly stone walls and all.

“Did you want something?”

“Yes.” Scorpius replied, pausing to tug at the hem of his dark shirt. There’s still a bruise under his eye, faded to be sure, but the mere presence of it made Draco’s heart skip a beat. When he’d seen Severus Potter crawling out of the rubble, face covered in blood and no sign of his own son, he’d known terror like no other.

And Draco Malfoy was intimately familiar with the machinations of terror. He’d been hugged by it once.

“Well,” he prompted, setting aside his work entirely and giving his full attention to his son. “What is it?”

“I want my friends to come visit.”

Draco blinked. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. “Your…friends?”

“Albus Potter and Rosie Granger-Weasley. I would like them to come stay.”

Draco blinked again. Later he’d laugh—somewhat despairingly into a decanter of fire brandy—at the absurdity of the notion that his boy, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, was best friends with a Potter and the hybrid off-spring of a Granger Weasley, but the threat of impeding hysterics was quelled under the defiant gaze of his son, narrow chin lifting at some unspoken challenge. 

“I see. For how long?”

“A…a week…maybe two…They’re going to France for the Quiditch Cup Primaries…” he glanced down and Draco spied the curled up parchment hidden up his sleeve. “So it wouldn’t be for long.”

Draco glanced at his desk, to the fireplace, then back to his son. “I don’t…”

I want my friends…friendshow often had Astoria lamented his lack of playmates as a child, how often had she fretted that Scorpius’ only interaction had been with adults—or books, or enchanting his own toys for someone to play with. And how quickly had Scorpius’ face crumpled at the utterance of two simple syllables. 

“…know if two weeks would be wise, given your mother’s health. She’s still recovering from the move. But I shall discuss it with her, and see what can be done.”

Scorpius stilled, the beaming smile on his face reigned in to something calmer, even now, not wanting to get his hopes up too much. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, we will be good.”

Draco snorted at that, remembering the last time a Malfoy, a Potter and a Granger and a Weasley had been together at their age. “Somehow I doubt it. Go on off you go, go see what your mother is up to. She’s enjoying having you home.”

“And I am enjoying being here,” Scorpius replied, in that curiously courteous and stiff way of speaking he’d always had, even as an infant learning his words. “I am happy to be here, with you, and mother.”

“I’m…very glad to hear it.” Draco replied, unsure what else he was supposed to say to such an open admission said so politely like one was discussing the weather. “Now go on, off you go, I need to finish this manuscript before I lose the thought.”

“You’ll talk to mother though, wont you?” Scorpius pressed from his space by the door. “You’ll ask…”

“Yes, yes.” Draco waved a hand, “I’ll ask if the Potter spawn can come stay with us. Just for a little bit. To say thank you for…everything.”

Reassured, Scorpius left, closing the door behind himself with a firm click. 

Draco waited several more moments, counting to a hundred before opening up the top desk of his drawer and pulling out his correspondence folder, flipping through them until he found the appropriate manila envelope, writing the address of the Ministry Neatly to the front. 

Clearing his throat politely, he composed himself, then tapped it to life with his wand.

“Hello Potter,” he spat with a vicious familiar glee, unable to keep from laughing, “I’m not sure which one of us is going to be more surprised by this turn of events, but I swear to gods if you break my son’s heart by saying no, I will personally send you a red Howler on the hour every hour till the day one of us dies. Now, about dates, the last week in June works well for us…”

What’s on my mind is

that scar on the left side of your face,
right below the sharp edge of your jaw,
how it looks like an arrow. How I wish
I were brave enough to trace my finger
like a road on a map until I hit somewhere 

to call home.

When you drank your first beer, did you
pretend to feel the buzz just to make the
cool kids stop calling you a fucking loser?
Or maybe you were the cool kid. Maybe you
pressed cheap alcohol into the palms of kids
like me. Careful kids. Color in the lines kids.

Also, key lime pie. Specifically, my mom’s.
Would you eat it? I know you hate pie, but
how many girls’ moms’ pies have you eaten
just to please some girl’s mom? A lot, I’m sure.

Too many. But I like you. Even though you are
a raging republican. Even though you practice
dinner party talk in my bed. (Especially because
I think that’s you trying to impress me.) And

sometimes, when we dare to let the silence sit,
I wonder if the first people to get married
regretted it. Did they lie side-by-side five years
past their vows and rearrange letters of the
alphabet just to find the right word: Done.
Damaged. Different. Devoid. Divide. Divorce.

Yes, they thought, as they unlinked their hands.
Divorce. Because it burns something ugly on the tongue.
I wonder if we’ll ever get divorced before I remember
that we aren’t married. We aren’t anything. Then,
of course, I wonder, what the hell we’re doing.

And on that note: Hell.
Do you believe in it?
Because I do. I think I do.

At least I might.

Or do you make up stories about the girl over there
nose deep in the Bible or the man with no hair
who keeps nodding off. The people on subways and
street corners, half-awake. When you guess at their lives,
are they happily ever afters with green grass lawns
and dogs who don’t bark? Do they believe in hell?

And even if they do and you do and suddenly you see some
small fragment of yourself in the glass of her eyes, does that
mean you won’t bury her jagged pieces so deep she loses her
sharpness? And when she exhumes that grave and slips
idiosyncrasies back under her skin like splinters, will you stay
for something beyond the guilt? When she finally cracks open
her mind just to let you peek at the bone and raw edges,
will you even remember asking for all of this in the first place?

No. Of course you won’t.

So I smile. I stretch. You hold me like a question mark, quiet
and careful and waiting. There are things you’d like me to say,
but the silence is so much sweeter. Stranger hands wander down
my waist, and you ask, once more, “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” I say. “I was just falling asleep.“

You sent your CV and got a call back? Congratulations. But now you’re facing the most frightening part of the job: the interview. 

No honestly, I’m joking, this isn’t as bad as we were told. And here’s what I learnt from it.

1. Stay NATURAL

You almost have the job. Don’t try to impress them too much, just stay faithful to who you are. Wear casual clothes, not a lot of make up, tie your hair (or at least brush it) and if you are wearing nailpolish, check that it isn’t cracked. Honestly, wearing cracked nailpolish during an interview just says that you’re messy and not organised. Don’t forget to smile, no one would like to hire someone always grumpy!

2. Do your homework

Remember the description of the job? Well that’s very important, state all the criterias that was asked in the description and make sure to tell your interviewer that you’ve got all the qualities the job requires. 

Learn about the company, when was it created, do they have other shops, what do they sell/do, what are the prices and what type of people will you have to face. Google is your best friend for that.

3. Get ready to answer questions

It’s D-Day, you’re sat at the table and the interviewer is here. Get ready for the questions. Nothing exciting to be fair. “Why do you think you’ll be good at this job?” “What brought you to apply to this job?” “Did you know about *the company* before?” 

And then they will ask you about your skills. Learn your CV and don’t hesitate to repeat it and add more details. For exemple: “I know how to work in a team very well because ….*add previous experience*”. They sometimes ask you how people would describe you or what are your flaws/qualities. Be honest. 

If you don’t have any experience, put everything on your skills and link them to school. Interviewers know if you have experience or not. They will also understand that you’ve been focused on your studies and that’s okay. Don’t try to hide it, be proud of it.

4. Interview your interviewer

Your interviewer will ask you a lot of questions but at some point he will ask you if you have any questions. And now, honey, it will be your time TO SHINE. Fire away, honestly it’s very embarassing to have nothing to say, it’s a bit like “oh well, just taking the job, not really fussed about anything”. Find something! Are you allowed nailpolish, do you have a uniform, what time do they open, are they closed during holiday, what will be your salary, do you have days off, will you have a training session, etcAsk everything on your mind, it will show your interviewer you’re at least interessed by the job.

5. Don’t rush anything

The interview is almost over. The interviewer might ask you when you can start. Never say “right now”. Say “tomorrow” or “next week” instead. Wait a bit, talk to your family/friends about the job to make sure you’re making the right decision. If you can, wait until you can have at least a glimpse at the contract because sometimes the interviewer doesn’t tell you everything about the job (how many hours, how much you’re paid). Wait for them to call you back. And when leaving, you can mention “that you’re looking foward to hearing from them again soon”!!!


I hope this masterpost was helpful and that you’ll nail your interview. If you have any other questions, you know where to find me! Reblog to help your fellow friends if you thought this was useful

Check out my other masterpost on how to improve your résumé or my masterposts.

- Aly xo

(°Ø💋Ø)(o☕️ô)

I’ve been thinking a lot about @black-nyanko lately; Nyan & their sans Ccino have such precious personalities, they can make your bitter coffee sweet just my smiling at it.

IT’S GETTING KINDA HOT IN HERE

*I wrote this with the sun and mars signs in mind*

Aries: It was a cool summer night. “You’re crazy.” I said as you pulled me towards an abandoned building. “Don’t be scared, I just wanna check it out.” We wandered through the decaying concrete, graffiti on every wall possible. I was so scared but I was trying hard not to lose my cool. After all you were absolutely loving this. There was a loud creak and I jumped, grabbing your arm. “Babe calm down, look at me.” You said soothingly, rubbing my shoulders. We made out there in the middle of the building; in the middle of the night. Your kisses enthralling, and for a moment I forgot about everything else. The creak came again but louder, “Okay, fuck this.” You laughed, grabbing my hand and we ran as fast as we could out of there and into the summer air.

Taurus: It was pitch black, our kisses growing more urgent as you fumbled around trying to undo my buttons. “I can’t see anything.” you chuckled. I sparked my lighter and you looked around for a candle, finding one and lighting it with my flame; never taking your eyes off me. You undid my pants quickly with a smirk on your face and threw them dramatically across the room. Your lips finding mine again, making up for the loss of contact. “You are so fucking hot” you whispered, running your hands down my body, a trace of goosebumps forming on my skin. You pushed in slowly, moaning as you felt my heat. You buried your face in my hair I lost all focus. I just held on for dear life as the candlelight flickered erratically on the ceiling.

Gemini: Your bedroom was covered with so many posters I couldn’t see what colour it was painted. You had not one, but two lava lamps, one purple and one orange. We were laying on your floor, listening to Frank Ocean on vinyl, “Sometimes I think about faking my own death, and leaving the parts I don’t like about myself behind.” you said somberly, drawing lazy circles on my stomach with your finger. “Where would you go?” I asked. You propped your head up, your adorable face flushed purple in the light from the lamp. “Anywhere but here,” you said pulling me even closer, “only as long as I could take you with me though.” I ran my finger across your bottom lip and you bit it, we giggled quietly, then sighed. You kissed me so deeply, like an ocean tide that ebbs and flows. We made love, slow love right there on your bedroom floor. Every now and then, when things are quiet, parts of that night come back in flashes when I close my eyes.

Cancer: Snow had been coming down like crazy all day and everybody was staying inside. We had made the heroic journey to the store to get the bare necessities. Popcorn, paprika Pringles and those fruity toffees. Now we were cuddled in an abundance of duvets and pillows watching Spirited Away. “Are you cold?” you asked softly. “No I’m actually really warm.” I said adjusting the pillows behind me. Your eyes shot around the room, you bit your lip as your gaze landed on me. “What?” I asked when I noticed you staring. You grinned, “I’m kinda cold.” I couldn’t help but laugh as I lifted my blanket and pulled you into my cocoon. Your hand slipped under my shirt as you got comfortable. “Oh my god, your hand is freezing.” I shrieked. “Warm me up then.” you teased as you kissed me gently.

Leo: “You are such a goddamn hypocrite, why are you being so possessive?” I yelled at you. “Because I fucking love you!” you screamed even louder. My eyes shot wide as the words left your mouth. I felt like I was about to faint. Like everything I’d known for the past two months had been wrong. I put my hand on my forehead and slowly sat down on the sofa. “Since when?” I asked warily. You sat down next to me, leaving a little space between us, not wanting to scare me away. “Since the day I met you.” you said more gently. I shook my head in confusion. All these months I’d been crushing on you, telling myself I was a fool for thinking you could ever feel the same. “Look, I should go.” you said standing up, I grabbed your arm quickly and pulled you to me. I kissed you with my eyes open, I didn’t believe it but my eyes couldn’t lie. You picked me up and put me in your lap. “We can’t do this.” I whispered into your neck. You grabbed me even tighter, not ready to let me go. “Tell me to stop,” you breathed kissing down my collarbone, your finger toying with the band of my panties, “just tell me to stop.” Your eyes searched mine for an answer. Your finger inching further, grazing down the lace in front. I moaned into your mouth, giving you the answer you needed. The one we both needed.

Virgo: My phone buzzed next to my laptop. It was almost midnight and my chemistry notes were making less sense than ever. “Hi baby.” I half sighed as I answered. “Where are you?” you asked. “On my bed, what’s up?” I could hear your breathing through the phone, “Nothing, just thinkin’ about you. ‘Bout us.” you said cheekily. I closed my eyes as that familiar lightness hit my stomach. “Oh really, what are we doing?” I teased. You half groaned on the other line, “Thinking about your skin, running my tongue up your spine, and swirling it around your-” Now I was the one who moaned. “Can you come pick me up?” I panted. You laughed, “Thought you’d never ask.”

Libra: It was my first birthday in the new city and I was feeling more homesick than ever. You knocked on my door and told me to get dressed while you poured two shots of tequila. You took me on an adventure, stumbling through a regal museum slightly tipsy. I was laughing at this modern piece, you asked why I didn’t get it, I said the shape was a bit funky. From behind you wrapped your arms around my waist, pressing yourself up against me, “I think it’s a quite stimulating.” you whispered with a sly grin, and my entire body shivered. Then you took me to dinner, your eyes staring into mine the whole time and I could hear my heart beating in my ears. It was like moving between worlds, reality changing from hour to hour. I don’t even remember what we talked about, only what I was feeling. We couldn’t even last until desert, our minds running away from us. As soon as I opened the door to my place your lips crashed onto mine, and for the first time that night I felt like I could breathe.

Scorpio: “Do you wanna wrestle?” I asked you with a wicked grin on my face. “I’m not gonna wrestle you.” You said not taking your eyes of the TV. I jumped on you and the Xbox controller went flying. “You asked for it.” You growled as you started fighting me back. I knew I had no chance, I just wanted to get you all fired up. Before I knew it I was on my back, hands pinned down above my head and your strong thighs straddling my torso. “Who’s the winner?” you demanded. “You’re the winner daddy.” I purred, reaching up and biting your lip. Your expression shifted, your eyes going from that watery blue to devilish dark in a split second, and I knew I was in for a ride.

Sagittarius: It was 3 a.m. I knew I had school in the morning but at this point I didn’t care. Cruising around the city in your parents BMW, the bass in the sound system making our blood vibrate. Like it hadn’t been already. We didn’t say anything, we couldn’t. We couldn’t afford to lose control. Then L$D by A$AP Rocky came on. My hands were shaking in my lap, your knuckles white from squeezing the steering wheel so hard. The engine purred as you drove faster, now with a purpose, pulling into the beach parking lot. The car came to an abrupt stop and I couldn’t take this any longer. You moved your seat back as I jumped over the console. You kissed me like you were drowning and I was air. All that tension finally snapping like firecrackers as the music pumped through our bodies. Your strong arms lifted me up and pushed my dress up my thighs, the windows fogging up. I could feel your biceps trembling under the palm of my hand, and thought how could something that felt so right be so wrong?

Capricorn: The whole day had had a weird, electrifying feel to it. Now I knew why. We were standing out there on the balcony, face to face in the middle of the crowd. “Kiss me.” you said nonchalantly. “You kiss me.” I incited. You took a long drag of the joint, gently pressing your lips to mine as you blew the smoke into my mouth. I just stared back at you, blowing the smoke out again calmly, your fingers still caressing the back of my neck. You almost smiled but stopped it midway by biting your lip. I grabbed your shirt and pulled you to me. I kissed you like it was the last time. You pulled back slightly to catch your breath, “Wanna get out of here?”

Aquarius: The night I first met you. I didn’t wanna go out but my friends convinced me. The bar was so packed but somehow I got to the front of the stage. There you were, and that cherry red guitar, in your own world. I remember I couldn’t take my eyes of your fingers when you played. I didn’t even notice you were looking at me until the song was over. You laughed and playfully tugged on your shirt. I didn’t get why but then I noticed we were both wearing the same Led Zeppelin shirt. When the show was over you found me so quickly I knew you had been watching me. “I feel like this was meant to be.” you said leaning up against the bar. I took you in, your knuckles had little cuts on them and your black jeans were splattered with green paint. “I’m not really in the mood to make friends tonight.” I said, taking a sip of my beer. You ran your hand teasingly through that dirty blonde DiCaprio hair, “How ‘bout we just stay strangers then?” I knew I’d already lost this fight. The next thing I remember is literally falling into your foyer, your lips on my neck as I moaned in your ear. You held me so tight, pulling my shirt up ever so slightly just to put your skin on mine. I pushed you down, taking my shirt all they way off while I straddled your hips, and you looked at me like I had just discovered fire. When it was all over you grabbed my face with both your hands, “What’s your name?” you breathed. I smirked as I put my clothes back on, “I thought we were gonna stay strangers.” I was halfway home when I realized that the shirt I was wearing wasn’t mine, it was yours.

Pisces: The record had finished all the way through. That needle scratch sound from the record player filled the silence in the room. I was in your arms, tangled in bedsheets and your sticky bodyparts. You grazing my back lightly with your fingers. “I need to pee.” I said trying untangle myself limb by limb. Your arms tightened around me, “No, you can’t go.” you pouted. I giggled and wiggled around in your embrace. “I have to pee, I’ll be quick.” You pressed your forehead against mine. “Promise?” you said softly. I pecked your lips three times. “I promise.”