i love all the actors from be more chill, gerard canonico, george salazar, eric william morris, katie ladner, stephine hsu, lauren marcus, katyln carlson, and *looks at smudged writing on hand* wall colony
i just had this convo abt resumes where I asked “what experience” a friend had and a mutual friend said “he knows how to throw ballroom parties” and I went “ok so he has organizational and communication experience” and ppl laughed bc “that’s bs”
but it’s not tho that’s what that is.
you ever organize something on even a semi-large scale, got a whole bunch of people to come and had fun or learn a Thing or even in general have an event? that’s organizational experience.
if you had a team of ppl you worked with wherein you delegated tasks to said ppl and make sure shit ran smoothly: that’s managerial experience.
you ran numbers (how much is it gonna cost for space + food + bla bla), scheduled a caterer to come in, made sure to send out invites and all that logistical stuff: that’s administrative experience.
you call ppl up and tell them the shit is happening, or check in on a buddy and make sure they know where to get resources they need, or anything like that: that’s communication
you go on social media and hype a lotta ppl up to come to your event: that’s marketing
yall HAVE this experience. so go put it down on your resume. get those jobs.
some cis pansexuals really like to pat themselves on the back and act like they couldn’t be transphobic bc they’re pan and ‘could date a transgender uwu’ and then turn around and scream at trans people for calling them out on their transphobia
There was always that rush of excitement when summer came—that feeling of freedom and the urge to run wild bursting at the seems. That’s how it was for most people, not you. When the sun shines with no end was something entirely different for you. Summer meant no school, known of those fellow classmates or teachers on your back. Your lively classmates bubbled in anticipation of the bell, the one thing that would free them from this white tiled prison for months. Just one last ring and I’m outta here, you thought. When it finally came you giggled at the students who jumped out of their seats, mostly guys, they huddled together as if they’d just one the state championship. The teacher attempted to calm them but eventually gave up, who could blame them?
“Come on, Y/N!”
Your friends beckoned you to hurry up and follow them out the door, that was currently being bombarded with the whole class. There was no point in rushing, so you told them to go ahead with you. They only shook their heads. You were the resident ‘good girl’ of your group of friends—as good as a high school senior could get at least. As quickly as you could look up you were left in the empty class room, you looked at the reminder the suddenly came up on your phone. You hadn’t received your grade for year yet so you waited around at the main office for them. Sitting on the bench outside, you waited patiently, looking through your phone until your teacher came out.
“Ms. Y/L/N, here you go.” You stood up and grabbed the thin folder from her, flipping through it really quick to make sure it was yours. “Enjoy you’re summer- Oh and congratulations on your graduation.”
“Thank you.” You two exchanged smiles before she scurried back to her office, anxious to leave this place. She was probably happier to be on summer break than the students in this school. If you had to deal with these terrors in a few months you would too, you had to sit in a class room with them but she has to teach them.
Striding down the hall, you looked over the paper, looking over your grades for the past year. One C out of a list of A’s. You glared down at the letter, one project with that delinquent nearly depleted your grade point average—you never forgave him for that and you weren’t planning on it. A few steps and you were at your car, fumbling with your keys to open the car door. You dropped them on the pavement. Just as quick as they fell you bent down to get it but you were stopped as an all too familiar black boot kicked it away.
Jeon Jungkook. He quickly had your keys in his hands. You tried to snatch them back but he only gave you a smug grin as your cheeks were already reddening in frustration.
“What do you want.” You spat crossing your arms, eliciting a snort from him.
Jungkook was what some would call a fuck-boy, a bad boy, a hearthrob; just to name a few. But you had other names for him, a waste of a good looking human being; in short. He did what he wanted and could care less if his stupid decisions affected you or anyone else—he loves himself with no shame whatsoever. His charming glances and charismatic ways of talking may have had everyone at his mercy but he wasn’t fooling you—not for a second.
“Chill, I just wanted to wish you a good summer, what’s the harm in that?” He said
Oh please, you wanted to wipe that grin right off of his face.
“Anytime you try to talk to me, you mean harm. Jungkook, I don’t have time for this.” You attempted to snatch the keys once again but he blocked your attempts by putting his hands far from your reach. “Give me my keys back!” You crossed your arms, waiting for him to stop being childish and hand them over.
“Come on, are you serious?” He laughed. “You’re panties are still in a bunch about that-…what was it again?” He tilted his head in thought, “Collaborative project.” He signed quotation marks with his fingers.
“Since you obviously don’t have the best of memory, I’ll remind you of what you did to me. While we were supposed to be finishing the project the night before. I hadfinish it by myself. While you decided you’d go roof topping with your friends, on the school, during an open house—which, by the way has to be one of the stupidest ideas you’ve ever had. You could’ve been arrested, not that I would care.” You huffed, already feeling yourself getting heated by the combination of the pounding sun and your rising anger. He was sporadic and impulsive, he said what he was thinking and went with the moment—all the time, and it was annoying.
“But did I get caught? No, I didn’t- And you were a doll for keeping your lips shut about it, baby girl.” He tapped the bottom of your chin and you jerked back, smacking his hand away. You hated when he’d call you that, it was a nickname he came to like because of one incident. There was a tornado warning in the area, when it touched down you sat in the corner of the room, you closed your ears he could’ve sworn he saw tears.
The day before the due date you got hit with a bad virus and couldn’t take in the project so you gave the responsibility to him—bad idea, a horrifyingly bad idea. He never came to your house to pick it up—he didn’t even go to school that day, your teacher was convinced that Jungkook got you to skip school until you explained to her that you were bedridden. To this day, you still don’t know where he went, and you really don’t care anymore.
“I kept my lips shut because I wasn’t going through that for you. When I texted you to tell you I was sick, and politely asked you to pick up the project and turn it in you left me on read! And never freaking showed up. Honestly, how rude can someone be…”
“Ok, and? You stress over ever fucking little thing, it was one project.” He retorted, those distinct eyebrows taunting you with every little facial quirk. You snatched the keys from his hand, getting in to your car and slamming the door.
He knocked on the window—your stupid self actually let it down.
“What.” Your hands firmly on the wheel as you were getting ready to pull out.
“You never gave me back my headphones, the ones I left at your place. I need them back.” You had to laugh, you know he doesn’t think your just gonna hand over his stuff after all the things he’s put you through. He’s not entitled to anything that has to do with you.
You had something he wanted. You smirked, the tables have finally turned.
“Ah, you mean the black ones with the blue on the sides?” He nodded, “Yeah, no, I don’t know what you’re talking about, you must be thinking about another girls house, I know you probably lose count.” You cooed, close lipped grinning like the petty person you were.
“I know you have them, quit being petty and hand them over.” His attempt to push you in a corner was working to him but in reality it was failing miserably.
“Now i’m definitely not giving them to you, even if I did have them, which I don’t, you won’t be seeing them anytime soon.” You could tell by the way his tongue protruded against his cheek, he wasn’t happy with you. You assumed he would escalate the argument but he only laughed, you frowned. “Why are you laughing?”
“None of your damn business.” With that he walked back to where he left from and you willed yourself not to pay him any mind. You get a whole three months free of him, annoying classmates and the school in general.
and the awful thing is, there is somebody walking these same streets that i am who knows your side of the story better than i do. i bet she thinks i’m crazy, thinks i walk through that park near your house every night, thinks i drink poison from bottles with your name on it. i don’t get to talk about this, do i?
and the awful thing is, there is someone taking your father’s dinner plate to the sink for him, helping your mother clean off the table and borrowing your sister’s makeup remover. and she probably makes your bed just the way you like it, and she remembers you like your towels warm when you get out of the shower. and she probably washes your hair and scrubs your back and doesn’t care if you use two-in-one shampoo and conditioner.
and the awful thing is, i am that easily disposed of. i am that easily replaced. and you are not unlike everyone else i’ve known. this is not an acquired taste, it just keeps getting bitter until it hurts to swallow. it hurts to think. it hurts.