#make resume on iphone

[jypsyvloggin]

How to Create a Resume on Mobile

How to Create a Resume on Mobile In today’s digital age, it’s more common than ever to apply for jobs online. This means that you need to have a resume that is mobile-friendly and easy to read on a small screen. Creating a resume on mobile can be a challenge, but it’s definitely possible. Here are a few tips: Use a mobile-friendly resume builder. There are a number of online resume builders…

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

A Curse [Chapter 6: Tarzana]

A/N: Where has the time gone??? We are officially halfway done with this series! Thank you so much for reading, besties. It has been an honor to curse you all 🥰🪄

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent…at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon’s right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, mentions of sexual content (18+ readers only), age-gap situationship, T.J. Maxx, Chinese food, a phone call from Minnesota, illness, entertainment industry misogyny, Jace is clueless, Becca bakes bread.

Word count: 5.8k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰

🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️

“What happened to your foot?” Baela asks from the kitchen. She’s doing yoga poses in the middle of the floor. Jace is noisily pawing around in the refrigerator. His iPhone is on the counter, and from it emits a horrible throbbing Charli XCX song that sounds like something they would use to torture prisoners at Guantanamo Bay.

“Yeah, I wanna dance to me, me, me, me, me,

When I go to the club, club, club, club, club…”

You are lying across the orange couch with your left ankle elevated on a stack of pillows and covered with an ice pack. You flip a page in one of those heavy coffee table books with lots of pictures from Barnes & Noble; Baela’s parents bought it when they were furnishing the apartment, and again you are reminded—the weight in your hands like solid gold—of how much they believe in her. The book is about the history of Los Angeles. “Becca pushed me.”

Jace gasps and looks up from the refrigerator. “Why would Baela do that?!”

“No, Jace, Becca,” you say. “My agent’s fiancée Becca. That’s who pushed me.”

“Oh,” he says, and resumes rummaging around in the refrigerator until he finds a cannister of Pillsbury biscuits. He cracks it open and begins plopping pucks of dough on a baking sheet.

“Did Becca find out?” Baela asks you as she does the Reverse Warrior pose. “About the…you know…”

You shrug, guilty, defeated. Your swollen ankle pulsates hotly. You are bone-tired and wholly uninspired, a foreign feeling that makes you wonder if the part of you you’ve always assumed was eternal could die after all. “I guess. I kind of tried to confess but she seemed to already have it figured out.”

Baela snaps upright and gawks at you. “Why would you confess?!”

“I thought you said what I did was wrong.”

“Well yeah, it was, but that doesn’t mean you tell his fiancée! You don’t know her! What if she’s crazy? What if she’s like that astronaut lady who put on a diaper so she could drive nine hundred miles to pepper spray her ex’s new girlfriend?!”

You frown morosely down at the book. “You’re right. It was stupid. I just felt bad.”

Jace slides his baking sheet of Pillsbury biscuits into the oven. On the kitchen counter, your sunflowers are beginning to wilt and shrivel in their vase. You have fed them and meticulously trimmed their stems at an angle as Google recommended, but still, they cannot last forever. Perhaps you’ll dry them and they will endure perpetually in some other form, trapped in a pressed flower frame, arranged into a wreath.

Now Baela is sympathetic. “Are you in a lot of pain? Your foot’s not broken or anything, right?”

“It’s my ankle. And according to Google, it’s probably just sprained.”

“Do you want me to take you to an urgent care place for an x-ray? Or get you a brace from the Rite Aid down the street?”

“I really don’t think I need an x-ray…and if my parents see the health insurance got billed, they’re going to freak out and call me asking why I’m burning through even more of their money. But a brace sounds awesome!”

“Okay,” Baela says, and gives you an encouraging smile. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. You’re going to slay the Marvel audition on Friday.”

“How’d you know about that?”

She points to the calendar. “You wrote it on there.” And sure enough, you did: red ink in a small black box labeled Friday, July 11th. That’s two days from now. Baela says to Jace: “Come on, we’re going to Rite Aid.”

He is distraught. “But I have to watch my biscuits!”

She groans. “How long do they need to bake?”

“Fifteen more minutes.”

“We’ll walk fast,” Baela says, and drags him out the door. Blessedly, Jace takes his iPhone and its disturbing Charli XCX music with him, now playing a song that sounds like television static.

As you lounge dispiritedly on the velvet orange couch, you return your attention to the book about the history of Los Angeles. A hundred years ago, Elysian Park was an oil field, lattice-like wooden rigs peppering the hills that now host Dodger Stadium, narrow sloping streets of working-class homes, Aegon’s unpretentious half-duplex, and you wish you weren’t thinking about him but regrettably you usually are these days.

You grab your phone and open Instagram. You are startled to see Becca’s profile picture in the row of stories at the top of the screen. She must have accepted the follow request you sent her weeks ago.

Why the hell would she do that now?

Surely, there are no benign reasons. After a moment’s hesitation you can no longer resist and click on Becca’s story to view it. It’s a photo of her giving Aegon a kiss on the cheek; they’re both laughing, his nose is scrunched up, it’s honestly pretty adorable. You tap the X in the corner of the screen to escape the image as quickly as possible, and yet it remains: red neon glowing on the backs of your eyelids, flames of arson in your throat.

You go to Becca’s profile. A quick browse of her stories and posts reveals homemade baked goods, scenic outings in nature, faux-candid selfies, and lots of home decorating. She has a blog that is linked in her bio—rebeccawilsonwrites.wordpress.com—like she’s freaking Gwyneth Paltrow recommending jade yoni eggs on Goop. She also has three Pekingese dogs, woefully inbred wobbling wheezing creatures, and you are reminded of your mother’s colony of Akitas.

Becca’s most recent culinary masterpiece is apple cinnamon bread. The loaves look flawless, golden brown and scrupulously sliced. Her caption reads: Made with delicious Honeycrisp apples, picked fresh at a local orchard! @superstargaryen loved them! Then there is a series of emojis: apples, hearts, bread, more hearts.

You return to your main feed and scroll manically through the photos and video clips there, desperate for a distraction. You see a post featuring a quote from Robin Williams—I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy—and a foggy memory is evoked like the rippling distortion of heat refraction rising up off a freeway.

You think: Didn’t Robin Williams die by suicide because he had a terrible disease?

You go to Google, conduct some basic research, and confirm the details. Then you search: Viserys Targaryen Lewy body dementia. But you find no relevant results.

You open your email, and at last you have your distraction: a reply to a message you sent yesterday night, an invitation for an interview.

~~~~~~~~~~

Her office is on the third floor. Early afternoon daylight floods in through the glass walls; there is a large tropical orange flower in one corner of the room, a specimen that could never survive here in the arid Southwest without shade from the sun and religious misting. Marion May Davis, Mari for short, is in her mid-fifties and has lines in her face and natural grey hair cut into a tidy Anna Wintour bob. She looks her age, and she looks real, two things you liked about her when you found her online. Mari is an agent. Maybe she’ll even be your agent soon.

“Oh, I love Maroon 5,” she sighs romantically as she scrutinizes your resume.

“Me too!” you lie, smiling so forcefully your cheeks are beginning to ache. You don’t want to leave Aegon, but you have to. He’s torturing you, he’s killing you. The Marvel audition is tomorrow, and you cannot bring yourself to care about it. There is a pink neon sign on Mari’s office wall that reads in whimsical cursive: good vibes only. Not terribly original, but you appreciate the sentiment.

You tap your black ballet flats anxiously against the bamboo floor as you watch Mari contemplate your resume. You have hidden your ankle brace in your purse. You are wearing a simple sleeveless grey sheath dress that Baela saw at a Brooks Brothers and bought for you—It’s so classic! she had said—and matching cool-toned eyeshadow: sparkly lilac Betrayal by Urban Decay, silver Iced Out by Huda Beauty.

Mari asks: “Did you have any trouble finding the office?”

“No, not at all! But I did have to park super far away because I am awful at parallel parking, and somehow it feels even hotter than usual here.”

“Well, we’re so far inland.”

You are in Tarzana, and it is Thursday July 10th, and you have the sense that time is rapidly ticking down, not just to the end of the year when your parents will summon you back to Minnesota but to September when Aegon is getting married on Turks and Caicos. From outside you can hear cars and pedestrians on Ventura Boulevard, an east-west asphalt artery of shops, hotels, and offices in northwest Los Angeles, the site of a former ranch established in 1919 by Tarzan author Edgar Rice Burroughs.

Mari puts your resume down on her transparent glass desk, naked except for a MacBook Pro. Frigid air pumps out through the vents on the ceiling. “Okay, I’ll take you.”

“Really?!” you squeal; and yet you cannot ignore that this feels bittersweet. Aegon’s really getting married? I’m really leaving him? “Yay!”

“Yeah, I like your energy. And your outfit is great, very European, very chic. The makeup, well…” Mari chuckles. “They’ll do that for you at shoots. But tone it down a bit more for auditions. They want to see you as a blank slate they can scribble all over.”

“Sure,” you agree instantly. “I’ll do anything you say. I’ll be your best client ever!” I won’t even hook up with you and thereby enrage your significant other!

Mari is typing on her MacBook Pro. “Give me a few days to send your stuff out and see what I can find for you. I love that picture of you with the sunflower…where was it taken?”

“The Flower District,” you say, thinking of the day you went there with Aegon and got ice cream afterwards, and he had remembered that you like vanilla.

“Delightful.” Mari is still typing. “I’m also going to email you the contact info for a friend of mine. He’s a plastic surgeon, he’s fantastic, I recommend him to all my clients. I’d like you to do a consult with him.”

You are ripped out of your not-so-distant memories, your effortful enthusiasm, and you have to be intentional to not seem offended. “Thank you so much, I really appreciate that, but I’m not interested in breast augmentation.”

“Oh no, I was thinking of your face.”

You stare at her. Reflexively, you touch your fingertips to your cheek. “My face? You want me to change…my face…?”

“Not change, dear!” Mari says. “Just enhance. Just make little tweaks here and there. I think you could really benefit from a rhinoplasty, and maybe something around the brows too…a lift? John will know when he examines you. He’s a magician! Have you seen the before and after pictures of Blake Lively? Or Mindy Kaling, or Taylor Swift? You’ll still look like you. You’ll just be an even better version of you!”

Outside, some tiny dog is yapping from a stroller or a purse. In this office, icy air blows down from the ceiling vent. You study Mari: undyed hair, no face or neck lift, probably not even Botox or Juvederm. “But you…you haven’t had any procedures done, have you?”

Mari smiles patiently, like she’s trying to explain a hard truth to a child, the fact that parents don’t always stay together or that pets inevitably die. “I work behind the camera, dear. Not in front of it.” Then she resumes typing on her MacBook Pro.

You watch her for a few seconds, listening to cars whooshing by on Ventura Boulevard. Then you grab your black Michael Kors purse—borrowed from Baela’s closet, at her suggestion—and stand up. Your wounded left ankle gives a shriek of protest. “Thank you for your time, but I don’t think this is a good fit. Have a great weekend!”

“What?” Mari says, peering up incredulously at you from behind her laptop, like she’s not used to being the one who gets dumped. You are already at the doorway.

“Bye!” you call with a wave, and sprint to the elevator at the end of the hall. You hammer the circular button and run inside when the doors open. Once you are alone and descending, listening to an instrumental version of Despacito, you take your ankle brace out of Baela’s Michael Kors purse and put it on. Then the elevator doors open again, and you are in another cold sterile hallway, and you hurry through a glass revolving door and escape out onto Ventura Boulevard.

The sun is blinding, the heat like an oven, your heart pounding heavily in your ribcage; your ankle throbs through the dose of Advil you took this morning. You stand on the sidewalk, jostled by women carrying shopping bags and men striding importantly by as they talk on their phones, and you try to remember which direction you came from.

I don’t want another agent, you think dizzyingly, nauseatingly. I want Aegon. But he’s driving me insane, and he’s hurting me, and soon he’ll be gone.

You get your bearings and walk east. It must be a hundred degrees. The palm trees are sparse and very tall and cast almost no shade; sweat drips down your face, your underarms, the ridge of your spine. You can’t tell if you’re panting because of the heat or because you’re freaking out or both. It’s probably both.

Your phone is ringing. You yank it out of the Michael Kors purse and answer in a breathless huff. “Hello?”

“Hi, honey!” Mom chimes. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” you say, although you’re certainly not. The sun is beating down like you’re a lizard under a heat lamp. “I just had an interview with—”

“Listen, we have to get you home for bridesmaid dress shopping,” Mom continues briskly. Ambiently, you can hear Clara chatting away about different fabrics, chiffon and tulle and satin and lace. “I’m looking at flights right now. How’s the first week in August?”

“Well, Mom, I’m really not sure because my schedule is changing all the time and I never know when I’m going to have an appointment or an audition and my manager Josh yells at me when I don’t put in enough hours at Cold Stone and—”

“This is important,” Mom snaps. There is the click click click of her manicured fingernails against her laptop keyboard. “Your sister only gets married once.”

“I know it’s important.” But what I’m trying to do out here is important too. “And I’m really happy for her and I’m thrilled about the wedding. I love weddings.”

“Then act like it.”

“I just honestly don’t have a regular schedule right now and missing a week can make a big difference. Do I have to be there in person for the dress thing? Can I just send you my measurements? You and Clara have a vision for this, so just pick whatever you want me to wear.”

Mom sighs impatiently. “No, we can’t do that! Honey, you know you have difficult proportions. We need to see the dress in person and order any alterations.”

“Okay,” you concede, feeling woozy and leaning against a streetlight that burns your arm. “Fine. Yeah. The first week in August is great.”

“And it’s especially vital that you look your best because you’re going to be the maid of honor. Yay! Isn’t that exciting?!”

You touch your furrowed forehead; it’s slick with sweat. Your period started this morning, and that can’t be helping the situation. “Does Clara want me to be her maid of honor?”

Faintly, you can hear Clara saying something about her best friend Kinsley, and your mother shushes her. “It should be her only sister,” Mom tells you.

“…Is that a no? Because Kinsley can do it, I really don’t mind. If I land a role I’m not necessarily going to be able to fly back for planning and parties and stuff—”

“You will be the maid of honor,” Mom insists. “Your father and I are paying for the wedding. We want you to be the maid of honor. Friends come and go, but family is forever. That’s the end of it.”

“Okay,” you say, and it comes out like a whimper; the heat is overwhelming. “Mom, I have to go, I have to try to find my car. I forget where I parked.”

“I’ll email you the tickets once I buy them.”

“Thanks!” you manage weakly, then hang up and wobble on your sprained ankle in the direction of your Honda, eastward, away from the ocean, back towards the Midwest from which you once made your botched exodus.

Suddenly you feel violently ill, and your vision begins to go dark, and you know you need to sit down before you pass out on the sidewalk and roast to death. You dart into the nearest building, a T.J. Maxx, and flee through throngs of shoppers to the furniture section. You collapse into a leopard-print armchair and sit there slumped and gasping, glistening with sweat, the room spinning around you. There is a fawn-colored shag rug on the floor that reminds you of one of Becca’s Pekingese dogs. You lean over and vomit the contents of your stomach onto it: a piece of toast with a teaspoon of peanut butter, a banana, some red grapes, a lot of Diet Coke.

Oh God. Oh no.

You look around to see if anyone has noticed yet; it doesn’t seem like it. Then you quickly roll up the shag rug and shove it under a dresser. You return to your leopard-print armchair and cover your flushed face with your trembling hands, your blood like boiling water beneath your skin.

Do I have to change my face to be an actress?

You shake your head, trying to expel this thought like seagulls from a picnic, sharp bold beaks pecking mercilessly for crumbs.

I have to get out of here. I have to get back to my car.

Your 2003 Honda Accord is parked no less than a ten-minute walk away. You wait a little while to give yourself time to cool down—a T.J. Maxx employee asks if you need assistance and you politely decline, then he frowns down at the floor as if he’s thinking: Isn’t there supposed to be a rug here?—and then you venture back out into the heat. Immediately upon leaving the shade and air conditioning of the T.J. Maxx, your nausea returns with a vengeance and you stumble as the sidewalk sways beneath your black ballet flats. People laugh at you like you’re drunk or high. You retreat back into the T.J. Maxx and seek refuge in the leopard-print armchair.

What am I going to do?

You fumble your phone out of the Michael Kors purse and go to call Baela…then you remember she’s currently on a transcontinental flight to Paris to film Yorgos Lanthimos’s new movie. You call Jace three times, but he doesn’t pick up. Maybe he’s in class. Maybe he’s asleep.

Aegon?

“No,” you mutter to yourself. “No way.” Out of ideas, and not able to think all that well anyway under the present circumstances, you call Mason. He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey!” he says excitedly. “You back in Minnesota?”

“No, sorry, I’m in L.A.”

“Oh.” There’s a pause. “How’s that going?”

“Actually, not that great at the moment.”

“Yeah, you sound weird.”

“I’m really sick. I think it’s the heat. I’m trapped in a T.J. Maxx and I can’t get to my car, and even if I could I’m worried I’d crash while driving home.”

“Damn, that sucks,” Mason says distractedly, and you can hear that he’s typing two thousand miles away in his Minneapolis office.

“What should I do?”

“Call an Uber?”

This is sensible, and yet you moan helplessly in your armchair. A T.J. Maxx employee is sniffing around the dresser where you’ve stowed the soiled shag carpet, grimacing. “A ride all the way down to Harbor Gateway is going to cost over a hundred dollars. And my parents will see the charge on my card. And what if I pass out and the Uber guy robs me?”

“Call your agent?” Mason suggests. “He probably won’t rob you.”

“I can’t call him.”

“Why not? Isn’t that his job, to take care of you?”

You blink dazedly at a rack of baby clothes, sailboats and elephants and ladybugs. “It’s complicated.”

“Well I can’t drive to L.A. to pick you up, so you gotta figure something else out.”

“Okay,” you surrender. “Thanks anyway. Bye.”

“Bye. Let me know next time you’re home for a visit!”

“Totally.” But you have no interest whatsoever; you can’t even envision kissing him. You are, to your misfortune, very much so a one-dude kind of girl, as Aegon put it.

You stall for a moment, opening random apps on your phone, scrolling blindly through Instagram. Now you feel less sick and more exhausted, like you could fall asleep and never wake up, although you’re developing a powerful hammer-like thudding just above your left eye. Another T.J. Maxx employee asks if you need help finding something, and you pretend to be considering buying the leopard-print armchair. A manager is using her radio to ask if anybody knows where the shag rug went. Out of alternatives, you call Aegon.

“Hello?” he says when he picks up, like he’s surprised to see your name on his screen.

“Hi,” you reply miserably. “I’m dying.”

He snorts a laugh. “You’re not dying. Where are you?”

“I’m stranded at a T.J. Maxx in Tarzana. I think I have heat sickness or something. Every time I try to walk to my car I almost pass out.”

“Yeah, you’re not used to temps like this, are you?” Aegon sounds kind, gentle, wise, and you hate how much you want to like him again, to be friends, to be more than that. “Well, you’re in luck, because I’m just finishing up a shoot in Studio City and I can probably be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Cool!” you cheer feebly.

“A T.J. Maxx, right?”

“Yup. On Ventura Boulevard.”

“Okay. See you soon, I’ll let you know when I’m close.”

“Thanks,” you murmur drowsily.

“No problem,” Aegon says, and hangs up.

You drag yourself to the bathroom, splash cold water on your face, gulp some down to clean your mouth out and immediately throw it up into the sink. You hide in a stall and rest your head in your hands for a while—ankle throbbing, skull aching, cramps in your lower belly—and only leave when Aegon texts you that he’s two minutes away. As you stumble past the leopard-print armchair now damp with your sweat, you see an employee discovering the shag rug under the dresser and unrolling it. He recoils and shouts: “What the fuck is that?!”

Just outside the T.J. Maxx, Aegon is double-parked and receiving jeers and honks from his fellow motorists. He ignores them. Aegon has closed the top of his Chrysler Sebring convertible and inside the air conditioning is on full blast, an Arctic tundra, the ice cream freezer at Cold Stone Creamery. You throw yourself limply into the passenger’s seat and pull the door shut, which feels like it takes immense effort. Then Aegon surges into traffic and barrels down Ventura Boulevard. You rest your head against the car window and close your eyes.

Aegon prods you with a large chilled bottle of blue Powerade he must have grabbed from a 7-Eleven or something.

“I can’t drink that,” you say dimly.

“Yes you can.”

“Do you have, like, a sugar-free version or—?”

“Shut up. Drink the Powerade.”

You take the bottle, twist off the top—again, this seems to take far more strength than it should—and swallow several gulps, hoping they’ll stay down. Almost immediately, the hammer strikes just above your orbital socket begin to dissolve away, and you feel a little more alert, and your nausea does not make another appearance.

“Better, right?” Aegon asks.

“Yeah,” you admit, touching your skull in dull amazement.

“It’s the magnesium. It’s good for headaches. And the salt helps you rehydrate. What the hell are you doing all the way up here in Tarzana, anyway?”

You sip your Powerade as you stare out the window, watching buildings and palm trees soar anonymously by. Aegon gets on the 101 heading east towards Elysian Park. You know that’s where he’s taking you without needing to ask. “Do you think there’s something wrong with my face?”

“What?”

“My face. Like my nose and my eyebrows. Do I have weird eyebrows? Is that why no one thinks I can be an actress?”

“Your eyebrows are fine,” Aegon says, glancing over at you, confused. He’s wearing the black suit that he dons for film sets, a skinny tie, a half-untucked white shirt. He notices the brace on your left ankle. “Damn, Sunshine, you’re a mess today. What happened there?”

You drink your Powerade as you debate whether to tell him about Becca. You decide against it. “I tripped and fell because I’m an idiot.”

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“So my new agent will take me seriously.”

Aegon must be startled—he turns to look at you, then back to the rushing five eastbound lanes of the freeway—but he stays calm, dispassionate, like he’s trying not to scare you away. “Is that who told you to cut up your face?”

“Turns out I don’t like her, so. Never mind.”

“Guess you’re stuck with me,” Aegon says, sounding a bit relieved.

“I am.” And maybe you’re relived too. “For now.”

“You down to get lunch?”

“I don’t want to vomit in front of you.”

He smiles. “I’ve seen worse things, I guarantee it.”

“What about my car?”

“Where exactly did you leave it?”

You have to think for a while, finishing the Powerade and letting your mind become useful again, and then you recall that you parked on a side street by a dog daycare, Dog-E-Dayz or Dog-E-Den or something like that.

Aegon picks up his phone and calls his receptionist Brandon. “Hey, Brando! Listen, your favorite client left her car in Tarzana. Yeah, I know. Way out there. So it’s parked near a dog daycare about a half-mile from the T.J. Maxx. Can you look up the address and get a tow guy to pick it up and take it down to the garage at her apartment building? Great. You have the model and plate number and everything? You’re a genius. And I’ll pay you extra for the inconvenience. No, no, I insist. Talk to you later. Bye.”

Then Aegon plugs his phone into the aux, and for some reason he puts on an Eminem playlist, and you doze against the cool clear window until you get to Chinatown.

The waitress Lanying asks Aegon about his siblings—“How is Aemond? What about Helaena? Okay, and what about Daeron?”—and Aegon smiles and nods and patiently reiterates that they’re all fine. You are led to the usual spot by the fish tank, massive black-and-orange oscars floating behind the glass and glowering at you, their bulging eyes reddish and hostile. Soon the table is cluttered with a tea kettle and two cups, wonton soups, your moo goo gai pan, Aegon’s boneless spare ribs. You eat cautiously, each bite slow and groggy. A family seated nearby has a baby girl, and she giggles and smacks the table with her tiny chubby hands each time you wave at her. Aegon watches this, oddly wistful for someone who admittedly has never wanted children.

“Here,” Aegon says, offering you a forkful of his boneless spare ribs. “Eat.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“You look droopy. You need fat and sugar and deliciousness.”

You acquiesce and let him feed you the morsel of pork, sweet and fatty and rich and sublime. You chew very slowly, and still it’s gone too soon.

“You have to eat more,” Aegon says. “I think that was part of the problem today.”

“Thank you for rescuing me. I’m pretty sure it was just the heat. And I was kind of upset about the appointment with the agent lady, and my mom called and stressed me out about Clara’s wedding. And oh, by the way, I got my period so no need to worry about that. Whoo hoo.”

Aegon doesn’t seem to appreciate the joke. He gazes at you thoughtfully, then uses his fork to point at the baby girl at the next table. “Do you want kids?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. I love kids. But I have like fifteen more years to reproduce, and if I want to be an actress I kind of have to do that first.”

“I figured. You worked at summer camps in Watts, right?”

“After-school programs. All the other employees hated me, I never wanted to yell at the kids or tell them what to do, I’d just get down on the ground and play with them. I’m so great at Uno.”

Aegon smiles. “Yeah?”

“And Sushi Go, and Scrabble, and Apples to Apples.”

“Apple girl from Appletown,” Aegon says, skimming the zodiac calendar written in red ink, twelve animals and their descriptions, attributes, shortfalls, perfect mates. Then he taps it. “Which one are you?”

You flinch, cave in, feel tremendously low. He really doesn’t remember. It didn’t matter to him, I didn’t matter to him. You stab at your moo goo gai pan with your fork, looking down so he won’t see how upset you are. “You are so fucking mean.”

But Aegon is bewildered, like he’s not sure what he’s done wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Monday, July 14th, and you are ringing up a Gotta Have It-sized Cookie Doughn’t You Want Some for a Los Angeles Southwest College student when Aegon walks into Cold Stone Creamery, the string of metal bells jangling against the glass door. You go to meet him by the ice cream freezer, where Aegon scans the menu of Signature Creations. He is carrying a manila folder and wearing a yellow t-shirt with a tan jacket thrown over it, dark jeans, and white-and-gold Nike Killshots. He seems confused.

“You don’t want an Our Strawberry Blonde like last time?” you say. You haven’t seen or heard from him since your Marvel audition, which was pretty dismal. Aegon stood in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest, and even though he put on his black sunglasses and grinned at you when it was over, you could tell he didn’t mean it.

“Oh yeah,” Aegon says. “Yeah, I do, thanks. That’d be perfect.”

You make his ice cream, Aegon pays in cash, and then you ask Josh if you can take your fifteen-minute break now. Aegon evidently wants to talk to you; he sits at the table by the window and watches you expectantly. Josh reluctantly agrees and you take a seat across from Aegon. He holds out his spoon and won’t speak to you until you take a bite. Eventually, you do: chunks of fresh strawberries, sticky caramel, rich fluffy whipped topping, jarringly sweet and cold and perfect, even if it’s not what you’d usually order.

“Well, you didn’t get the Marvel job,” Aegon says.

“I’m not shocked. They barely looked at me.”

“But I might have found you something else.”

“A dog food commercial? A brief and soulless flashback of somebody’s dead wife?”

“A feature film,” Aegon says, and you stare numbly at him.

“What?”

“Indie, Sundance. Starring role. First billing. I got you an audition.”

You snatch the balloon down just as it begins to float away. You’re trying to prepare yourself for disappointment. “They’re not going to like me.”

“They might,” Aegon says. He lays the manila folder on the table and slides it over to you. “I’m not supposed to let this out of my office, so don’t lose it.”

“It’s the script for the audition?”

“It sure is.”

This can’t be happening. “How did you get them to agree to put me on the list?”

Aegon shrugs. “I didn’t do anything. They reached out to me.”

You place your palm on the folder to make sure it’s real. “What’s the movie about?”

He smiles as he licks strawberry ice cream from his spoon. “Vampires.”

“It’s horror?”

“Kind of horror. Kind of romance. I think it’s just right for you.”

“When’s the audition?”

“This Saturday.”

“Okay,” you say, savoring it, this liminal hope you can’t stop yourself from feeling. You’ve always been an optimist. Perhaps no number of curses can change that. “Okay. I’ll be ready, I promise.”

“Don’t forget about the charity gala,” Aegon reminds you. “It’s Saturday night, the same day. But there are like ten hours in between so it shouldn’t be a problem, even if the audition runs late.”

You peer through the window at pedestrians walking by outside. It’s twilight, and streetlights are turning on, and neon tubes glow with cold chemical fire. “I don’t think I want to go to that.”

“You have to. It’s work. I can introduce you to industry people.”

“Is Becca going to be there?”

“Of course. But she won’t bother you.”

Why does he cheat? you think forlornly, and then you remember something Aegon said the day you first met: Life is short. I try to keep it delicious. “I’ll go,” you agree under duress.

“You sure will,” Aegon says, and scrapes the last of the ice cream from his bowl and gives it to you, his plastic spoon heavy with melting pink magic.

When you return to your apartment well after 11 p.m., Jace is sprawled across the orange couch in his pajamas and watching Blade. He is noisily slurping Pad Thai from a takeout container. You kick off your work Sketchers and remove your ankle brace. It still twinges, but you’re healing.

Abruptly, you recall Aegon’s paranoia concerning Jace’s presence at your 4th of July festivities. “Hey, Jace?” you say, getting an idea.

He glances lazily over at you. His dark hair falls in chaotic curls around his face. “Yeah?”

“I have to go to a charity gala on the 19th. That’s this Saturday. It’s very fancy and very formal, and I don’t really want to go alone and have no one to talk to. Do you want to go with me?”

You had imagined this might take some convincing, and yet Jace is immediately amenable and has only one question. “Will there be free food?”

“Yeah, I assume so. Probably an open bar too.”

“I’m in.” Then he winks and makes a joke. “It’s a date.”

[joker-daughter]

Wait can you give us a lil story time about that 2019 thing you‘re talking about😭

I wasn’t a Tom or tomdaya fan back then and now I‘m curious what you mean and which picture😭

Alright, this was after the first part of FFH promo which happen right after Tom wrapped CW reshoots, remember the Disneyland(?) outing (plus the crotch accident 😬) and Jimmy Kimmel? so after that there was a bit of a pause before press would resume in Bali and the night/early morning before Tom left for London for his break he was at the Euphoria set (they were doing night shoots at LA Union Station) and a crew member posted a story showing the set and this was the first screenshot that surfaced

as you can see it wasn’t the best quality and you all gotta remember, these were different times so we couldn’t just be like oh yeah, that’s definitely him like we could now and back then I was also somewhat playing detective when it comes to euphoria filming and I was able to find the story without knowing the source and then I provided this clearer screenshot that confirmed it was him (shoutout to my old iPhone 7+ which still works btw!) and send it to a friend of mine who was well connected in the fandom

and how did we know he was leaving that very same day? well, he posted a story basically telling us and he announced a social media break (two weeks back then were long for Tom to not be active btw 😭)

he also posted this

at the time we didn’t think much of it bc we were like yeah he filmed tdatt, almost right after it he had to do the reshoots that also lasted like 2-3 weeks and then do some promo, no wonder he wants to go home for a bit but in hindsight some of us speculated that that day it wasn’t the only break he decided take or should I say make, if you get what I mean 😀 hence why I called this the beginning of the end lol

[ladylooch]

Bones - Part 1 [Mack x David]

A/N: It's here!!!! It's finally, finally here!!!!!! I am so excited and proud to start posting Mack and David's series. I cannot put into words how much fun it is for me as a writer to bring these two to life. We have over 20 chapters in the works for these two.

The series officially begins after this part: How Country Feels

Word Count: 3.8k

“Fuck.” Mack mutters in Swiss German as she whips her fresh shirt over her head. She looks down at the toilet paper holder in the stall that holds her buzzing iPhone. She grabs it as the picture of her and her older sister disappears. Mack stabs at the phone button, then taps her name, calling her back.

“Hey!” Her older sister answers brightly. “Are you in a cab yet?”

“No. My flight was late.”

“Oh shoot.” Lucie trials off. “Okay, well we will see you soon?”

“Yep.” Mack tries to be nice, but she hates being late and her sister’s unnecessary phone call grates at her worn nerves. 

“Give me the phone.” Mack hears her boyfriend come over the line suddenly. “Honey?”

“Yes, babe?”

“We will see you when you get here.” Mack stops stuffing her plane shirt into her backpack. She grins, biting her bottom lip. “Travel safe, eh?”

“Thank you. I can’t wait to see you.” 

“Miss you something bad pretty girl. Hurry. I’ll hold Lucie’s phone until you get here so she quits calling.”

“I’m worried about her!” Lucie insists. “And I miss her too! I miss you, Mackie.”

Mack chuckles, realizing her sister sounds about two glasses of wine deep into the annual welcome back party with the Rangers. She wishes she was glasses deep into alcohol too. With that, she resumes stuffing her shirt into her bag.

“I’m hanging up now. I’ll see you soon.” Mack reiterates. David bids her another goodbye, then they both click off.

Mack flies out of the stall, rushing through washing her hands then hoofing it to the ground transportation area. Luckily there are cabs awaiting. She pops in one then gives the address of a building she’s never been to by David’s apartment. Connor and Lucie arranged the party for the team the last few years, but have been rotating it around different event venues in their neighborhood. Their condo isn’t big enough to house everyone, plus a catering staff for all the food and drink options. The team has expanded a lot the last two years with most of the guys having significant others now.

Mack nibbles on her bottom lip as the cab maneuvers out of the airport. She doesn’t know why she is so nervous about this party. It’s been keeping her up the last few nights, making it difficult to sleep along with the broken air conditioner in her hotel room. She rubs under her eyes, collecting a dusting of black that had smudged off during her in-flight nap. 

If Mack has to pinpoint it, she is worried about meeting all these people as David’s girlfriend for the first time. Some of the girls know her as Lucie’s sister, but this is different. She knows from Lucie that David has been a hot commodity for the girls to set their friends up with. David has always politely declined, but Mack can’t shake the sense that she is walking into a blinding spotlight of scrutiny. 

As the car crosses into the correct neighborhood, Mack’s phone buzzes in her hand. She looks down at a text from David. 

You here yet 😉

Yeah, you don’t see me?, she teases back.

Her leg begins to bounce as she turns her attention back to the city buildings passing on her left. Mack is a little nervous about seeing David again. They have been talking every day since they both left Iowa, but spending so much time apart makes her worry. What if he’s lost interest? Or what if the chemistry that has been building evaporated with the warm summer heat?

All those what ifs vanish as they turn the corner on the street for the restaurant. Outside, in a blue and grey flannel is David Carlson. His hands are tucked into his dark jeans, brown boots planted firmly on the sidewalk. His hair is cut into a fade with longer, tousled strands on top of his head. His eyes watch every cab that slows, looking into the back for her. She grins as its her cab’s turn. His grin magnifies the night and he pulls the door handle open before the car even stops. He leans in, kissing her deeply, long mustache tickling her nose. The sensation is welcomed and reminds Mack of home. Her hands go to his big shoulders as he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He takes out some dollar bills then hands them to the cabbie.

“Thanks, man.” David murmurs, then wraps Mack into his arms to pull her out.

“I can walk.” She reminds him.

“For now.” He smirks, then leans in for her bags. He shuts the door then swings her bags over his shoulder in one hand. The other weaves around her lower back, guiding her into his body. “You look so good.” He can barely keep his smile off his lips long enough to kiss her again. Mack’s eyes drift closed. What was she worried about? “You ready?”

“Mhm.” She acknowledges. He slides his free hand into hers, leading her to the door. 

Mack follows David through the restaurant to a separate event space. Her eyes skim the restaurant, noticing the attention he demands because of his tall, big body, and gorgeous features. He oozes confidence and assurance. They turn down a hallway and David stops, nudging Mack into the brick wall. The stone is cool on her back as David gives her a searing kiss. Her fingers trail up his shoulders to rub at the freshly cut hairs of his face. 

“Wanna blow this damn party off, but your sister will throw a fit.” He mumbles. His lips pucker on her mouth, then begin to kiss her jaw bone. 

“I know. I want you so bad.” She sighs, turning to nibble at his ear lobe. Having him inside her is about the only worthy thought that crossed Mack’s mind on her trip home.

David lifts his head, scanning the hallway. He sees a door, trying the handle to find it unlocked. Inside is relatively empty except a few plastic cups and table linens. He tugs Mack inside then shuts the door behind them. Mack grins, collecting him into her arms as he lifts her up, pinning her against the cool, black metal. 

“You wanna?” He checks in with her, pulling away to see her face.

“Yeah. Bad.” She nods as she says it, breasts heaving with heavy breaths. 

“That’s my girl.” He bites her bottom lip, then puts her feet back down. Together, they work off one another’s jeans. Mack is only able to step one foot out before David is hoisting her back up. In his mouth is a condom, she takes it from him, then maneuvers her hands to his cock, rubbing the latex down. David takes his shaft in his hand when she is done, balancing her weight with the door. He fists himself, dragging his swollen head through her slick folds, then posies at her entrance. Mack sinks herself down, pressing her hips until she swallows him fully. 

The stretch is divine. Not painful or intrusive, just full enough to have her buzzing. She bucks her hips, making the door rattle behind her. 

“Fuck.” She whines when he pulls out then thrusts back in fully. “Yeah, that the whole time, babe.” 

Without a word, David continues, his lips drink hers up, unable to drift long away from hers like a magnet connects them. His strong hips pump fully into her, increasing the tempo the more she moans. Her pussy grips him like a vice, collapsing with each deep thrust into her. David pulls away from her mouth as Mack begins to shake in his arms. He tightens his grip on her thighs, finger prints transferring into her tanned skin. 

“Look at me.” He gruffly demands, face hovering over hers. Mack’s eyes open. “Watch me while you come. Want you to see what it does to me.” Mack whimpers, eyes wanting to roll back, but she forces them open. Her face scrunches, she inhales deeply through her nose, eyelashes fluttering as her orgasm grips her then rips her off the cliff. 

Mack watches David like he demands, seeing his pupils explode in his green eyes. His jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth together. A groan expands his throat and his red, puffy lips fold together until the color bleeds away from the pressure.

“Fuck.” He collapses forward into his orgasm, his hips press up into her, chasing deep into her core with his last few jerky presses. Mack drifts her hand down to his ass, feeling the powerful muscles turn to stone with his rocks into her. 

“Mmm, wow. Yeah. Really, really missed that.” She drags her nose across the soft flannel on his shoulder. David’s head falls to the crook of her neck, cheek feeling slightly damp against her bare skin there. Her finger nails scrape at his scalp, lips plumping into his temple every few seconds. 

“It’s wild the things you make me do, Mack.” Her cheeks spread wide as he pulls back. He looks drunk from his afterglow. His lips pucker. She leans forward, squeezing his cock in her as he does. “Ugh.” He groans blissfully. “We are making this the shortest party ever.” He says it without room for her input. “Gotta get you back in my bed.” 

“Can we go to my place?”

“Yeah. I stopped by earlier. Your plants are still alive and there are fresh condoms in the bedside table. We are set.”

“The essentials, plants and condoms.” Mack giggles as David pulls out of her. He takes the condom off and ties it off, then helps her pull her pants and underwear back up. After, he tucks himself into his jeans and closes them up. 

Mack steps to the side as David pokes his head out, looking both ways down the hallway. A giggly bubble fills up Mack’s chest as he reaches his hand back for her to take. With her bags slung over his shoulder, he leads Mack back out of the closet. 

They almost make it the whole way out before Connor Wood exits the event space, catching them. Mack purses her lips, closing her eyes for what she knows is coming. 

“You two fuck in that closet?” Connor smirks so wide it may as well be grin. David laughs. Mack punches at his kidney lightly.

“David!”

“It’s pretty obvious, honey. No need to lie to Woody.” 

“Welcome home, Mackie.” Connor says, holding the glass door open to the event space for her. 

“Go in. I’ll be right there.” David says from behind her.

“You guys were safe. We love to see it.”

“Yeah, we don’t need another unplanned pregnancy.”

“You need a new joke.” Connor gruff at Mack, stepping in after she walks through the doorway.

“Why? That one’s still funny.” 

“Is it?” He tilts his head at her, nose scrunched up in annoyance.

Mack’s reply is cut off by a screaming Lucie. She brings all her bubbly, happy captain’s wife energy and attention over to her younger sister. Mack opens her arms, then all the air whooshes out of her lungs with how hard Lucie runs into her. Lucie doesn’t seem to notice as she wraps herself around Mack’s shoulders, swaying her harshly left and right then straight up shaking her.

“Mackie!!!!!!!! I’m so happy you’re home!!!!!!” Mack looks over Lucie’s shoulders at the curious group of onlookers. The entire team watches them in a casual way. A few of the girls Mack recognizes from last season wave in a greeting. Mack smiles back. “Mmm, I love you. But I hate how tan you are.”

“Next time you should come with me.”

“I will.” Lucie nods, then takes her wine glass back from Connor. “I am going to get you some of this wine. It is so. Good. SO good!” Lucie claps. “Come with me. I have things for you!”

Mack glances over her shoulder, seeing David come in eases her nerves before she follows her sister over to a table decked out in Red, White, and Blue. She zeroes in on a heavy duty, clear bag with Carlson and the number 14 stitched into it.

“So I got these bags for the arena.” Lucie starts off. “Then we have a phone case, and a lanyard for our passes. Then I found this adorable little shop at the farmer’s market that made us all necklaces with the boys numbers and then engraved their last names onto them too. Look!” She points to the one she is wearing. It’s gold and dainty with Wood etched into the bottom of the 2 of his number, 23. 

“Oh I like it.” Mack nods. 

“Yes. Oh we should get yours out. It would look so good with your outfit.” Lucie rummages through Mack’s bag, pulling out the velvet blue bag. She reaches her fingers in, then twirls her finger for Mack to turn. She does, gathering her hair into one hand as Lucie clasps it together. Mack brings her fingers up to touch the cool metal. “Oof, you should take a peek at how that man is staring at you right now.” Lucie murmurs. “It’s steamy in here.” Mack looks over her shoulder at her boyfriend. His green eyes blaze with clear desire as he nurses a new beer. He brings the bottle to his lips, smirking at her before taking a long pull. “Careful, Mack. You’re looking at him like you love him.”

Mack rolls her eyes.

“Show me what else is in here.” She changes the subject.

Mack and Lucie continue to go through the bag until another woman comes up with a separate bag. Mack recognizes her as Melinda. Her husband is a veteran center. 

“I’m so glad there is finally another girl to share all this stuff with. Lucie, your sister is stunning. Like, wow. You just got off a plane and you’re this gorgeous?”

“Never underestimate a sink shower in the bathroom.” Melinda laughs.

“Oh and she’s funny! No wonder she snagged David.” Her thin eyebrows raise, then she leans closer to Mack and whispers. “Good for you.” Her gaze is pointed, lips pursed as she nods in appreciation. Mack’s mouth drops slightly open when she catches on, then red steaks up her neck and cheeks.

The attention moves from David’s eggplant size to the contents of her bag. Melinda has a dozen different t-shirts and sweatshirt with David’s number on them. 

“We used to order for every boy’s number regardless of if they had someone or not. For so long all the boys were single and we got a better deal by ordering extra than just ordering what we needed. So take whatever you want, if it doesn’t fit just get rid of it.” 

Mack’s eyes widen at the amount of stuff laid out in front of her. 

“This was my favorite shirt.” Melinda points to the gorgeous blue crew neck. The Rangers logo rests on the left part of the chest, then the number 14 is sticked into the sleeve on the right like a dainty tattoo.

“I loved this one but it got ruined when Stella was sick once.” Lucie pouts. 

“We should do something similar for playoffs.” Melinda suggests to Lucie.

“Yes! Oh I love that! Something we can wear for away games to save our jackets for home?”

Mack looks between the two women, then drops her gaze back to the pile of clothes. She should feel grateful, but instead an overwhelmed wave crashes down on her as she takes in everything with David’s name and number on it. 

“Are we giving Mack presents?!” Another girl asks, reaching for a similar black bag to Melinda’s. “I have tons of jewelry and stickers and water bottles.” Then she pulls out a replica jersey mug with David’s number and last name on it. “Truthfully, I got this last year hoping he would date my friend Holly…” She trails off. “But she turned into a backstabbing bitch so I’m glad that didn’t work out. I’m Jade.”

What the…? Mack smiles politely, then shakes Jade’s hand. A silent look passes between the two Hischier sisters. Ah, that Jade. The one the other wags groan when she shows up every year still with her boyfriend, Tucker.

Lucie begins folding up all of Mack’s items, trying to fit them in the WAG issued bag for this year. It won’t all fit, so then they load up Melinda’s bag with Mack promising to bring it back to her at the next team outing. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Melinda waves her off as David comes up behind Mack. His hand grounds her as it slides into the back pocket of her jeans.

“What is all of this? Y’all are gonna have her running back to the Caribbean if you don’t quit giving her shit.”

“Yeah, that’s gonna make her run.” Melinda jokes. “Not those white sandy beaches and turquoise waters. Oh! Mack! We have to pick your brain for the Allstar trip this year. We need ideas. Tulum is tired and boring.” 

“Oh yeah. It’s better to go to Cabo these days.” Mack agrees. “It depends on what we want to do there?”

“Drink and fuck.” Jade fills in for Mack.

“Damn…” David snorts. 

“Ah, okay.” Mack chuckles. “I can put together a list.”

“David, you have a good one. Don’t fuck this up.”

Mack doesn’t need anyone on this team’s approval, but damn if it doesn’t make her chest swell with pride at how well this is going. Mack and David mingle together for the rest of the party, which admittedly isn’t long. She tries to hide it, but David can see how tired she is. Her blinks start to slow down and she may have closed her eyes until her head bobbed when they were talking with a new rookie on the team from Austria. He played for SC Bern in the Swiss league before signing his rookie contract with the team. He switched to Swiss German with her and although she is used to this dialect from her dad, her tired brain is having trouble switching from English back to her native tongue.

“Okaaaay.” David chuckles, wrapping an arm around her back. She crashes into him, off balance, then nuzzles into his chest immediately. “Time to get you home.” He murmurs to her hair, kissing her afterwards. Mack nods limply. 

David collects all her bags, the ones she came here with and was gifted during the event. Mack quietly says her goodbyes to her sister and brother-in-law, then David is guiding her to the parking lot where his SUV waits. He opens her door for her, then places her bags into the trunk. Mack kicks off her boots, curling her legs up in her seat. Her cheek rests on the headrest, facing David. His big hand comes to her face, rubbing at her cheek bone with his thumb. Tiredly, Mack opens her eyes. 

“I’m so glad you’re home, honey. Can’t even tell ya how much I missed ya.”

Mack doesn’t respond, but she grabs his hand from her face, folding it into hers so she can hold his hand the whole drive to her apartment. 

Ron beams excitedly when he sees her and David walk through the apartment lobby from the underground garage. 

“Well if it isn’t the perfect couple!” He exclaims. “Welcome home, Ms. Hischier.”

“Thanks, Ron.” Mack mumbles, waving to him around David’s big body. “He is so nice.” Mack sighs, leaning into David’s chest in the elevator. “Do you need help with any of that?” She looks down, seeing David gripping the four bags in one hand.

“No.” He assures her. His lips brush her forehead. She tilts her face back, presenting her puckered lips. She sways slightly into him as the elevator stops at her floor. “Gotta get you to bed, sleepy.”

“ ‘M crashing.” She mumbles then yawns hugely.

David leads her down to her place, then removes his hand from her to search for her keys. 

“In my jacket.” She murmurs, lifting her arm so he can reach into her pocket.

“Thank you.” He politely responds, then flips her lock. He opens the door for her and they step through the threshold together. 

Mack starts to make a beeline for the couch.

“Baby, baby, no. Just go to bed.”

“No. Too far!” She wails, then collapses onto the couch face first. David chuckles, dropping her bags off to the side of her entry way. He kicks his shoes off, then flips the double locks on her door. Mack smiles to herself. He’s staying. Good. She hoped she wouldn’t have to ask. 

One of his hands slides under her, flipping her to her back so he can collect her into his arms. Mack hugs herself to his chest with her arms around his neck. She nuzzles her nose into the dip of his neck where it meets his chest. Her lips kiss there. 

“I’m leaving again this weekend.” Mack says quietly. She’s known this since before she came home, but has been worried to tell him. 

“Okay, honey.” There is no anger or disappointment in his voice, only a kindness that Mack leans into. 

“Thank you for understanding.” She says as he sets her on her bed.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. I know it’s hard to be apart.”

“I’m also leaving next week. Not fair for me to get upset over that if I’m doing the same thing.”

“Yeah.” She answers. He gets it. And her. There isn’t anything more to discuss, but Mack couldn’t if there was anyway. She’s so tired. 

David holds up two pajama options to her. She picks the lighter set, knowing her personal furnace is gonna keep her warm enough under that comforter. Mack struggles out of her clothes, then allows David to help her step into her sleep shorts. Before he puts her t-shirt over her head, he kisses across her breasts until her nipples tighten into pointed peaks. 

“Like the look of that.” He grins, then puts the hole of her shirt over her head. “Gonna have to have you a lot before we leave each other again. Wanna memorize those nipples.”

Mack smirks. He pulls the covers back for her to climb under, then he strips himself bare. Mack notices his thickened cock bobbing as he kicks his pants off. She wishes she had the energy to take him into her mouth and suck him off. Sensing her struggle with her competing needs, David cups her chin to kiss her fully.

“No need to force it, honey. We got plenty more nights just like this together.” He reminds her. 

His big body climbs in under her feminine, white comforter. Mack yawns, letting David collects her in his arms. She curls into him like a cat into a warm, sunny spot in the winter. His fingers play with her hair, then trail a path down her arm to her wrist. He repeats the motion continuously.

Mack falls asleep missing him even though he’s right there in her arms.

She knows Lucie was right tonight.

She’s in entirely new territory.

Love.

Read more Mack and David here.

[saharasawicki]

As the afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating the cozy living room, Daiyu lounged on the couch next to Sage, their feet resting comfortably on the coffee table. The familiar sound of TikTok videos filled the air, punctuated by their laughter as they scrolled through the latest trends and hilarious memes. It was their perfect post-shift routine, offering a welcome escape from the day’s hustle.

But today felt different for Daiyu; her heart raced with anticipation. This was the moment she had been waiting for. Taking a deep breath, she shifted her focus from the screen and turned to Sage, who was chuckling at a particularly outrageous video. “Hey, Sage,” she said, her voice a mix of excitement and nerves. “Can I show you something?”

Sage paused the video, his eyebrows raising in curiosity. “Sure! What’s up?”

Daiyu grabbed her phone, navigating to the cloud where they had shared files. With her heart pounding in her chest, she pulled up her manuscript file. “I finally finished my book!”

“What? Really?” Sage exclaimed, his voice full of genuine excitement. “That’s amazing! Seriously, Daiyu, I’m so proud of you!” He leaned closer as she opened the transcript, their eyes widening at the sight of the completed novel displayed on the screen.

There it was: her title, bold and daring at the top of the document—"The Cowplant Mother-In-Law." She couldn’t help but grin, unable to contain her enthusiasm. “I’ve been working on this for ages, and I typed ‘The End’ just last night! It’s all here!”

Sage’s eyes sparkled with intrigue, and a teasing grin spread across his face. “Okay, I have to know—what’s ‘The Cowplant Mother-In-Law’ all about?”

Daiyu chuckled, feeling a mix of excitement and wicked delight at the premise she had crafted. “It’s a horror-comedy about a woman who discovers that her new mother-in-law is not only a bit demanding but also a literal cowplant—an evil, carnivorous plant that can eat people! As she navigates the chaos of family dinners and overbearing in-laws, she also has to deal with the shocking realization that she may be the only one who can tame the plant before it devours everyone.”

Sage burst out laughing, clapping his hands in excitement. “What? That’s brilliant! A horror-comedy about a cowplant? You’ve truly outdone yourself! The over-the-top familial dynamics are a perfect backdrop for some good scares and laughs!”

“Exactly!” Daiyu said, her eyes sparkling with passion. “I wanted to mix humor with supernatural elements—like how the protagonist has to endure bizarre family traditions while also figuring out how to keep the cowplant happy. It’s all about finding balance between family expectations and your own sanity!”

“Wow! I can’t wait to read this!” Sage said, looking at her with admiration. “I mean, ‘The Cowplant Mother-In-Law’ sounds like a wild ride, and I already love it. You’ve put so much creativity into this.”

“Thanks! I really did pour my heart into it. It’s been a crazy journey to write, and I’m so glad I can finally share it with you,” she replied, feeling exhilarated.

Sage leaned back, resting his head against the couch. “Well, I definitely give you honest feedback once I read it. Just make sure to prepare for some critique—especially if it turns out I’m a cowplant too!”

“Deal! But you better make sure to bring your A-game for this book release party we’re having,” Daiyu said, smirking. “And I'll provide the popcorn!”

“Perfect!” Sage laughed, shaking his head in mock seriousness. “I’ll make sure it’s gourmet or else ends up the cowplant!”

As they resumed scrolling through TikTok, Daiyu felt a comforting warmth in her chest. No matter the challenges ahead—whether it was feedback on her novel or life in general—she knew she’d face them with Sage right beside her, ready to support her every step of the way. "I'll have to go soon baby, I promised Fang I'd take her to see dad." Poses By: @starrysimsie ✨Precious Memories (iPhone Version) - Pose Pack✨

[mightyflamethrower]

SANTA MONICA, CA — A local man was tragically rendered unable to brush his teeth after he mistakenly neglected to pay the monthly subscription fee on his smart electric toothbrush.

"Toothbrush functionality disabled," the toothbrush had chirped loudly after a payment was declined. "Please update your method of payment to continue brushing your teeth."

"This is awful," said Jake Brown, owner of the toothbrush. "Things have just been so busy with the holidays and everything going on, I forgot to make this month's payment on my subscription for my OraDent Max, and now I haven't been able to brush my teeth for weeks! No one in my family wants to be anywhere near me. This is terrible!"

Brown had been the envy of many of his family members and friends earlier this year when he became one of the lucky first owners of the OraDent Max smart electric toothbrush, which features full Bluetooth capabilities, iPhone integration, the ability to sync with the user's contacts list and online music library, and more. "It's the future of toothbrushing," said OraDent spokesman Neil Prince. "No one is going to settle for an analog toothbrush anymore when they can have the world at their fingertips with a smart toothbrush. Cutting-edge oral hygiene will only cost you a $9.99 monthly subscription!"

By failing to keep his subscription paid up, Brown was left without the ability to maintain any level of oral hygiene. "I can't go back to using a regular toothbrush," he said. "What am I, some kind of caveman?"

At publishing time, Brown was reportedly hoping one of his friends would give him an OraDent Max gift card that would allow him to resume brushing his teeth.

[randamhajile]

Interview + Resume Guide from a Hiring Manager in Tech

Writing this because I am losing my MINDT at how BAD the entry level candidates I am getting are interviewing. I have done over 100 interviews over the last several years and this is just my experience, which is tailored for tech jobs, but most of these principles would apply to everything, I’d think. There are also some tips in there on how to make a good resume and cover letter + how to follow up on applications (yes you can do that and sometimes it DOES work… got me a job offer once!). Also if you are in the DC / Baltimore metro area, have reliable transportation, and want to break in to IT Systems Administration as a career, hmu lol

Contents:

Basic Do’s and Don’ts

Types of Interviewers

How to Control an Interview (Key Goals of an Interview)

Interview Follow-Ups (How to Write a Thank-You Email!)

Resume / Cover Letter Tips

1 - Basic Do’s and Don'ts

Do:

Be on time! 5-10 mins early is usually best for virtual interviews, 15 mins early for physical

If there are delays or issues, COMMUNICATE that to the recruiter

If virtual, test your audio / video equipment beforehand! 

Please dress professionally. Clean, UNWRINKLED clothes. No anime t-shirts!!! I once interviewed a guy in a Sasuke t-shirt on his living room couch from a handheld iPhone. He did not get the job

VISIBLY TAKE NOTES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Have questions for the interviewer!!!

Feel free to reference notes you may have pre-prepared! Make a show of it. It demonstrates you can record information efficiently and can self-structure, it’s NOT cheating, it’s GOOD! 

MAKE SURE YOU CAN TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING ON YOUR RESUME IN DETAIL! If it’s there, it’s there for a reason! 

Thank the interviewer for their time!

SEND A THANK-YOU EMAIL!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh my God like NOBODY does this anymore… super easy way to distinguish yourself here, seriously

Make sure you know the key requirements of the job description so you can talk about them and how you fit them!

Might be overkill, but never hurts to look up the interviewer on LinkedIn to understand their background

Research the company you are trying to work for! Don’t need an essay here, just a basic understanding of what they are about

If you have unemployment gaps, make sure you have a good story to explain them that shows you were doing something meaningful with that time

Don’t:

Don’t be late or unkempt! Please bathe… 

If virtual, don’t worry about taking an interview while working – If you have to take an interview from a break room or your car, you can always spin that positively – mention how you are taking the interview while on break, and how you are excited for the opportunity and did what you could to accommodate the interviewers. We know sometimes it just be like that

If virtual, don’t have a messy background!!!! [damn bitch you live like this meme]

DO NOT DO NOT DO NOT derail a question! If there’s one thing that is just AWFUL it’s when someone asks you a question you don’t know the answer to, and you derail it to something you DO know… incredibly annoying and you WILL end up rambling

Don’t say you don’t know something and just leave it at that! It’s always okay to not know something – admit it, and say how you will fix that knowledge gap

Don’t wildly guess answers to questions! If you have to guess, say that you are doing so. There are few things as damning as guessing incorrectly with confidence

DO NOT RAMBLE! Keep your responses short and to the point!!! Don’t talk for more than 1 minute, 2 minutes straight at MAX

With that, DON’T LIE ON YOUR RESUME!!!! DO NOT! LIE! ON YOUR RESUME! DON’T! You WILL end up looking a fool. Sure you can embellish a bit, but if you put down that you know Python and all you’ve done is one class project from 3 years ago, YOU DO NOT KNOW PYTHON!

Okay admittedly an addendum to that – if you ARE going to lie on your resume, don’t go in empty-handed!!! Make sure you are prepared to bullshit!!!!!!!! Seriously there have been soooo many times I’ve asked people about impressive, top-billed resume items and the answer is ‘uhhh yea I did that like once 5 years ago’ or ‘I once shadowed a guy who did this’

If you are going to lie about a key item on your resume, you better be prepared to put in the legwork ON YOUR OWN to get up to speed on it ASAP if you are hired. Do Not Fuck Up That Part. Otherwise you are just setting yourself up for stressful, miserable failure

2 - Types of Interviewers

Different people have different approaches. Some interviewers just want to see what vibes you give off, others have highly-structured interviews. Also in all honesty, a lot of interviewers might not know how to run an interview in a way that gets them the key info they need. It’s an art form. Once you understand the level of structure the interviewer is approaching the interview with, you can adapt.

You need to assess what kind of interviewer you have, and be prepared to control the interview in a way that works best with them. Have a few pre-prepared personal stories about your hobbies, working accomplishments, challenges you’ve overcome, etc. that you can easily launch in to while you’re figuring out what the interviewer is like.

3 - How to Control an Interview (Key Goals of an Interview)

Key Goals of an Interview:

Give off good vibes

Demonstrate how you fit the key requirements of the job description

Differentiate yourself from others

Do this all in a very limited amount of time

For 1, good vibes: you want to be attentive, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Ultimately a hiring manager will be looking for one HUGE thing – will you be EASY to manage? As in, do you have the skills, and the wisdom to use them, or learn them? This is why visibly taking notes is really great – shows initiative and organization. You don’t necessarily need to be a social butterfly either, but you have to at least attempt a friendly demeanor. If you are super nervous, it’s also okay to admit that! You can always spin it to say that it’s because you are just super excited about this opportunity, and want to make sure you have a good conversation that demonstrates the value you’ll bring to the role.

For 2, fitting the job: this is where knowing the job description and a background on the company helps. There are soooo many people I’ve interviewed who had essentially no plan for the interview – they are just rawdogging that call. You need to be able to toot your own horn – make sure you have talking points for the top-billed parts of the job description, and that you know what your best features are and how to explain them. 

For 3, differentiating yourself: this is like your Jeopardy post-commercial quirky story. You don’t need much, just maybe one or two things that make you unique. If you look up the interviewer’s LinkedIn beforehand, you can perhaps even specifically appeal to them. Standing out is a huge challenge, because the interviewers usually have onslaughts of applicants.

For 4, time control – this is where everyone fucks up lol. You usually have 30 minutes or an hour to plead your case, and that time will FLY BY. This is where understanding your interviewer is critical.

If your interviewer is UNSTRUCTURED: you will need to take a lot more control of the interview. Your interviewer might get sidetracked talking about personal stories or one specific job topic, and will miss hearing out about how you fit others. You will need to segue to other key points in the job description – you can also be totally honest, if you are going down one rabbit hole and missing another, you can straight up ask the interviewer if you can change subjects, because you want to make sure you talk about everything in the job description in your limited time. If you are polite about this, it’s fine! The interviewer will most likely appreciate your focus and direction. Make sure you also leave time at the end to ask the interviewer questions.  

If your interviewer is STRUCTURED: this is a bit easier. Follow the structure, but keep an eye on the clock – if you are nearing the final quarter of the interview and haven’t hit your key points that demonstrate why you fit the job description, it is also perfectly acceptable to ask the interviewer if you can speak about a few key things you feel are relevant to the job. Just say you want to respect their time, and would like to make sure you communicate what you can bring to the table. Don’t worry about being humble lol this is your time to shine. 

4 - Interview Follow-Ups and Thank-You Emails

SEND THANK YOU EMAILS!!! SEND THANK YOU EMAILS!!!!!! SEND THANK YOU EMAILS!!!! This is not a bootlicking thing this is a cool and sexy lifehack because seriously, no one does this anymore. You WILL stand out if you do so. Writing a thank-you email is exceptionally easy too. I always follow the motto “Too Short To Suck” – keep it very simple:

Subject Line: Include A Thank You and The Name of the Role

Hello [Interviewer(s)],

Thank them for their time and talking with you about the job. Include ONE sentence (okay, maybe two short ones) about why you are excited for this opportunity, because of XYZ thing you have that adds value to the role. Final sentence re-iterating your excitement for the role, and that you look forward to hearing back soon.

Signature

Example:

Subject: Thanks for Talking About The Tech Analyst Role at Company Inc.!

Hello Interviewer(s),

Thank you for taking the time to speak with me today about the Tech Analyst Role with Company Inc! It was a pleasure talking, and after learning more about the job, I am quite excited for this opportunity, as I know my organizational skills and experience with Microsoft Azure will provide a good framework for me to grow and contribute to Company Inc’s success. I am looking forward to hearing back soon, and thanks in advance for your time and consideration.

Thank you,

Tumblr User Randam Hajile

FOR FOLLOW UPS: if a week goes by without hearing back, feel free to email the recruiters / interviewers again and politely ask for an update on your application. If they don’t respond after that, unless it’s a job you REALLY REALLY REALLY want and think you are a shoe-in for, it may not be worth it to bother them again. Give it another week or two and then send a second email for an update.

If several months+ have passed and it’s still a place you really would like to work for, you can also email those contacts again asking if any new roles have opened. You have to understand that these recruiters are going through massive piles of same-looking profiles in SmartRecruiters or something like that, so having anything to differentiate is helpful.

ALSO – HOT APPLICATION TIP !!!!!!! if you send out an application and hear NOTHING back, but it’s a place you really want to work for, here’s an awesome tip that actually legit led to me getting a job offer recently: crawl the company website to find a PR or HR email address, and send a polite email mentioning you applied for [specific role], and that you would like to know if they are still hiring for it or any similar roles, as you have not heard back and are still highly interested in working for the company. Chances are they can get in touch with Recruiting to forward your inquiry.

5 - Resume / Cover Letter Tips

RESUMES: For the love of God, put some effort in to your resume. Do NOT use the default resume that Indeed or LinkedIn pisses out for you… I hate that so much. Maybe that’s just a me-thing, but I honestly think those don’t present your information very well.

The secret to writing resumes is that there really isn’t a secret – there’s no MLA format or one-size-fits-all template that works. You need to put some thought in to it to understand what you are trying to communicate, and here are some tips to do so:

Save it as a PDF!!!! This way you can be 100% sure it formats correctly when opened by the recruiter / interviewer

Format it correctly!!! Make sure there are no sloppy mistakes

I can’t believe I have to say this, but please, please have a professional-looking email address. AnimeLover2005@hotmail.com won’t get you hired

Add some class with a nice template. Find something a little snappy looking – anything other than a wall of barebones Calibri font

If you are artistically inclined, have some fun with it. My resume and cover letter are obnoxiously 1970s themed as a statement piece about myself, plus it stands out in an ocean of samey-looking resumes lol. Where’s that Jack Sparrow meme where he’s like ‘but you HAVE heard of me’ – that’s my principle, people will either love it or hate it, but they WILL remember it

Include your LinkedIn URL at the top of the page with your basic contact info! Also, have a nice LinkedIn page!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Don’t put your home address on it. You can just say like “DC Metro Area” or something like that

Unless you have impressive references, or are working in an industry like Security where you know you’re going to get background-checked, just say ‘references available upon request’ at the bottom, and have those at the ready just in case

It doesn’t have to be one page! It can be up to two – if printing it physically, you can have a nice two-sided cardstock resume, but make sure the most key things are on the first page

If a cover letter isn’t requested, you can use that second resume page to include more detailed info that a cover letter would have

Use nice paper to print the resume – sturdy cardstock, and have multiple copies available to give

Remember you are trying to communicate what you can do, so get creative with presenting that efficiently – as an example, when I was a Sys Admin, I broke up my resume Skills section in to a 2x2 table that lists “Knowledgeable in the Use Of” and “Advanced Knowledge Of”, that way I could include skills I had without lying about my proficiency and bungling questions about them

Unless you are fresh out of college, don’t list coursework in college or high school clubs on your resume. You’re 30 years old. It’s embarrassing to list your Computer Club experience from High School. That could be a fun talking point, not something that takes up precious resume space

Include a mission statement at the top underneath your contact info – something simple like “Results-Oriented Technician Seeking New Challenges”; just something to summarize your best vibes

If you really, really, really want a job at a certain place, you can try tweaking some phrasing in your Skills or Experience sections to match keywords in the job description – that way AI will be more likely to highlight your resume for the recruiter, if they are using AI tooling (ugh)

COVER LETTERS: honestly there are better guides out there than I can give here, but basically you can create a generic cover letter where you only need to change out a few sentences to cater to the employer you are applying to. Keep it one page, and try to include keywords / terms from the job description in it – a lot of these recruiters use AI to sort through resumes / cover letters and want to find ones that match the job description. Similarly to a lot of the prior advice, you need to make sure you hit your key points about your best traits, relevant experience, and work ethic, and why you are excited to work for whoever you are applying to, and how these traits relate to that. 

I’m honestly not sure how many recruiters even read cover letters these days and how many of them just use them as AI fodder to help sort candidates… the positions I typically hire for don’t require cover letters so my experience here is a bit limited, but as mentioned, there’s lots of guides online on how to create a good cover letter, so do some Googling. They worked for me, at least. 

Anyway… hope that helps!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Go forth and get hired…

[1whimsicalgal]

September/October 1973 Ah, Youth, The Life Of an O’riginal Chainsaw Gal

A deep spring cleaning brought these little gems above to the surface.

In the days following filming Chainsaw ’74, after we’d wrapped, we were all finding our path, looking for ways to make money. I wasn’t in the brutal chainsaw dinner scenes (t’anks gods!!!). I was done and immediately looking for work, any work. Prior to filming I’d been working at Mrs. Robinson’s Restaurant at the corner of Riverside Drive and Congress Avenue in downtown Austin, for two years, paying for classes at St. Edward’s University, and doing well. Simultaneously, I’d been getting leads in all the plays at St Ed’s Mary Moody Northern Theater. After filming “Headcheese’ (Chainsaw ’74’s working title) for two-weeks, with little in the can, we shut down for a week. Then, we got a call that they found some money, filming was resuming. We all signed new contracts, but this time for ‘deferred money’. They’d kindly held my job at Mrs. R’s for the two weeks, but when we extended filming for another month, they had to hire someone to replace me. Drat. No job, no money.

Out of the blue, Daniel Pearl did me a solid. Our Chainsaw '74 cinematographer, Daniel, offered to shoot a portfolio for me with Daniel as the photographer, and Dottie Pearl assisting me with make-up and wardrobe. Both were full of great ideas, completely supportive, and very talented. Back in the day, with no internet, iPhones, computers, etc., we literally snail-mailed our pictures to casting agents and directors. When I think of the time-consuming hours of addressing, stamping, and trips to the post office, I get exhausted. Now, of course, you can scan and press Send.

Think about it.

The Good News: Everything finally worked out. As happens in life, things always change. For the past few years, our Chainsaw franchise has grown exponentially. I am pleased to report we have all grown close, appearing with my remaining cast mates to celebrate our 50th anniversary this year, since our filming and its release in 1974, appearing at various horror cons with my remaining cast members, together with our film crew members, Daniel Pearl, DP, JMichael McClary, ADP, and Ted Nicholaou, Sound Recordist. Fans love it and we love them!

Thanks to Kim Henkel, his son Ian Henkel, and Chase Anderson, we've been enjoying a real reunion to celebrate a little film we gave our hearts and souls to in the sweltering heat of July and August 1973, that went on to put Texas horror films on the map, a trailblazer, and lauded across the planet as a cult-classic in the horror genre. No sour grapes here, just great lessons learned, and thanks to all those who appreciate our work. We thank you.

The top right picture is from a print ad for Suzuki. Daniel had scored a local Suzuki commercial print ad shoot as DP in September 1973. When the director said they needed a girl who rode a motorcycle, Daniel did me yet another solid, he suggested me.🚀

Fifty years later, I’m still grateful.

xoxo,

Pammie 🪝💋

Original B&W photos by Daniel Pearl DP/ASC

Follow Daniel on Instagram: @danielpearldp

Colorization by Eric Goode @ericgoode106

[the-technicolor-whiscash]

Tubi with ad blocker??? Might I ask for pointers?

Yeah it doesn't always work perfectly but on desktop on Firefox I use AdGuard (it's not the most popular one out there - I think most people use UBlock but I've been using AdGuard for years and even though it's not perfect, it tends to work on sites that have started to work around UBlock so I have no real complaints) and usually rather than an ad it shows just a dark screen that says "your video will resume after the break" and sometimes it makes you wait and sometimes it just cuts right back to the video.

On mobile it's gonna be a little different. So I use Firefox for mobile and i have AdGuard on there as well. But you can't just use it right out of the box - you have to make sure you select "Desktop site" in the Firefox settings, otherwise it'll just ask you to download the app. This doesn't work on the app.

When I used to have an iPhone I used safari and you can get ad blockers on there too I'm not sure if they work with tubi but they did with YouTube so that's a plus.

One thing to note, I have found that adblocking on Tubi causes the captioning to be desynchronized. It basically makes it useless, I think it bases the captioning around having ads in place. I'm not sure if there's a workaround to fix that, but it is something to take into consideration if you're someone who likes/needs captioning.

I don't know if any of this works with chrome but you shouldn't use chrome anyway cause Firefox is better. I switched to Firefox years ago bc it ran better on my older PC with less background crap going on and you do not have to worry about losing passwords, bookmarks, etc because it will transfer all those from chrome. Make the switch if you haven't already it is worth it for the quality of life improvements.

Like I said this doesn't always work perfectly and sometimes it freezes but I've found just reloading the page resolves it. And there's probably other adblockers that work with tubi my experience is just with adguard because I've used it for years and I think it's good to have multiple options for adblockers rather than one having a majority of the market because redundancies are good.

[instructionsnotincluded]

State of Grace

Chapter X

Excerpt:

“It says here that the Limbrey’s own like half of Charleston,” Kiara’s thumb moved rapidly across the screen of her iPhone a little over two hours later as the Pogues entered Charleston, “but what I can’t figure out is what they want with us and why they want to help John B out.”

“It’s gotta be something to do with the symbol,” Pope said as he idled at a stoplight, looking over at Kiara, Audrey, and JJ.

“The gold,” JJ nodded, eyes trained outside his window as he looked over the large, old buildings surrounding them, “it always comes back to the gold.”

“Please come alone,” Kiara looked over at Pope after reading the end of the letter, “that’s totally suspicious, right? Like…they want you alone?”

“The whole thing’s creepy as fuck,” JJ shifted in his seat, “just like these buildings…”

“They’ve had three governors in the family…” Kiara continued to read as Pope resumed driving down the tree lined street, “a couple of state senators, several professors, a few highly decorated military veterans, a vice presidential candidate…”

“So they’re basically the Kooks of Charleston,” JJ shifted his arm to slide it around Audrey as he rubbed her shoulder, catching the look on her face and knowing she was lost in thought about the watch. His girlfriend had been pretty quiet the last few hours and while he knew she was trying to process the new information, he was still worried about her.

“Yeah—they’ve basically run Charleston for the last three hundred years.”

“Well…” JJ ducked his head down again to eye the plantation style building Pope pulled up alongside, “these Kooks make our Kooks look like Pogues.” Pope only snorted, shifting the truck into park as four sets of eyes turned to study the building that sat behind an incredibly tall, dangerous looking wrought iron fence. The trees hung low over the fencing and Audrey only felt goosebumps break out across her legs as she stared at the creepy looking house. “You sure this is it, Pope?” JJ glanced over at his friend, hand squeezing Audrey’s arm, “‘cause it looks really…uh…intense…?”

“This is it,” Pope lifted the letter in his hand, “does anyone else have a bad feeling in their stomach?”

“Yes.”

“Oh for sure.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Ok—good,” Pope nodded, inhaling deeply before opening his door, “glad we’re all on the same page.”

The Pogues slipped out of the truck, Kiara’s head tilted all the way back in an effort to take in as much of the house as she could. Pope double checked the address on the envelope with the numbers on the house and the map on Kiara’s phone while JJ swung his arm around Audrey’s neck, keeping her close as he pressed his lips to her hairline.

“We’ll get answers, I promise.”

[gotham-mockingbird]

It started as a simple little promise I made to myself after watching some silly time travel movie where the main character had to sneakily get information on the time he was in and it always took him so long to actually get to his mission.

I promised to myself and my empty Toyota Corolla that if I met a suspected time traveler I’d be really polite and quick to help them.

Of course I never expected to actually meet a time traveler but I believe in ghosts and aliens and different dimensions and kangaroos so is time travel really out of the question?

I just went about my day as usual and didn’t really think of it much afterwards. That is until I met Xrey (pronounced Zer-ee).

He was dressed in something that looked like it was straight out of 90s television and looking around confused before we bumped into each other. He laughed kind of nervously before apologizing in an accent I didn’t recognize.

Then he asked the question that I was not prepared for one bit, “Kind of an odd question, sweetheart, but uhm what year is it?”

He looked sheepish as if this is the first time he’s actually had to ask, and I was shocked, but I shook it off and smiled, “It’s 2019, and you seem to be a bit lost. There’s an old phone booth that no one really walks past down that way if you need to take a moment to figure yourself out.”

His eyes light up and he smiles, “Oh that’s perfect thank you. I haven’t come this far back before and I got a bit turned around. Thank you!”

Then he was off.

I smiled as he paced off into n search of the phone booth I told him of before turning around myself to head to work.

My head was racing all day, did I really just meet a time traveler? Maybe he was an alien? Time traveling alien? Perry the time traveling alien?

That last one was just my ADHD.

Anyways when I got home there was a post it note on my fridge. The handwriting was messy but i could read it.

‘Thank you, we consider you safe now. Made it home safe. -Xrey’

I smiled, a little bit freaked out, but happy that I could help. And a little happy that I got a more personalized thank you.

I was expecting to meet a couple more time travelers, probably have been put on a list of safe people, but the amount I wasn’t expecting.

I honestly didn’t even think of meeting another until maybe a couple months after the incident, but about a week and a half later I’m at work sweeping the outdoor area when a jogger comes up to me.

“Hey uh, weird question, but can you tell me a little bit about this time?”

He lowers his voice and leans in a bit when asking the actual question so I do the same when I respond.

I tell him the exact date and time, the latest iPhone, what changes to do to his outfit, and the president of the US.

He thanks me before jogging off again.

I smile and resume sweeping wondering when my next encounter will be.

I wasn’t expecting anything when I got home, but there was a single flower on the table, laying right to my cat who likes to lay on the table for pets. This time I wasn’t creeped out, realizing it’s just their silent way of saying thank you without fucking things up too bad.

From then on I met dozens of other time travelers, one shapeshifter, and I believe three aliens, although that’s still a speculation. I did have to have a chat with a Man in Black once though, but it was really chill.

Also its pronouns were it/its, I asked.

From what I can gather from what I’ve seen the future is amazing.

The distant future.

The far distant future.

The very far dista- y’know what that’s getting annoying.

Point is, I’ve been helping lost time travelers for a while now, I’ve made friends who visit every once in a while or drop gifts off, but this is my first time making an enemy.

You once made a promise to yourself: if you ever met a time traveler, it wouldn't be a big deal. You’d tell them the date, the most important political conflict, a recent technology, and send them on their way. You now encounter a time traveler nearly every week.

[21twelve]

Avoid These Mistakes When You Hire an iOS Application Developer for Your Project

In 2025, mobile apps are no longer a luxury; they're essential tools for brand growth, user engagement, and digital revenue. But building a successful iOS app goes far beyond having a great idea. You need the right developer to turn your idea into a real app.

Whether you’re launching a fitness tracker, a food delivery app, or a finance tool, the person or team you hire can make or break your project. That's why it's crucial to avoid common hiring pitfalls. In this blog, we’ll highlight the biggest mistakes companies make when they hire an iOS application developer, and how you can avoid them to ensure your app is functional, scalable, and App Store-ready.

Why Hiring the Right iOS Developer Matters More Than Ever

Apple’s ecosystem has expanded dramatically in 2025. With SwiftUI growing, iOS 19 updates, Vision Pro features, and new AI tools, creating an iOS app today needs more technical skills and a better understanding of Apple's platform than ever before.

Hiring a skilled iOS developer ensures:

Compliance with Apple’s strict guidelines

Smooth performance across iPhone, iPad, and Apple Watch

Scalability as your app grows

Strong App Store Optimization

Integration with Apple APIs

Common Mistakes to Avoid When You Hire an iOS Application Developer

Here are the top missteps you should avoid during the hiring process:

1. Choosing Cost Over Quality

Many startups and small businesses fall into the trap of choosing the cheapest developer they can find. While budget matters, going too cheap can result in:

Poor app performance

Bugs and crashes

Delays in App Store approval

Lack of scalability

Pro Tip: Focus on value, not just price. A reliable iOS developer might charge more upfront but will save you time, money, and headaches in the long run.

2. Not Verifying Past Experience

A portfolio speaks louder than a resume. If a developer hasn’t built apps similar to yours or doesn’t have live apps on the App Store, consider it a red flag.

What to do instead:

Ask for links to live apps

Check App Store reviews

Verify their role in each project

3. Ignoring Knowledge of Apple’s Ecosystem

iOS apps today are expected to integrate with Apple Watch, Siri, widgets, iCloud, and even Apple Vision Pro. Hiring someone unfamiliar with these tools can limit your app’s functionality.

Ask questions like:

“Have you worked with SwiftUI or UIKit?”

“Can you integrate HealthKit, Core ML, or ARKit?”

“How do you optimize apps for battery life?”

4. Overlooking Communication & Availability

Great code is useless if your developer disappears for days or doesn’t understand your goals. Differences in time zones, communication issues, and lack of regular updates can completely mess up your project.

Ensure they offer:

Regular updates

Shared project tools

A clear point of contact for questions

5. Skipping the Technical Interview

Even if you're non-technical, you should never skip evaluating a developer’s actual skills. If needed, hire a technical consultant to review resumes, run code tests, or sit in on interviews.

Consider asking:

“How would you manage offline functionality in an iOS app?”

“What’s the difference between SwiftUI and UIKit?”

“How do you handle memory management?”

6. Not Discussing App Store Compliance Early

Many apps get rejected from the App Store due to poor design, weak privacy compliance, or broken features. An experienced developer should already know Apple’s app review policies.

Ask:

“How do you ensure compliance with Apple’s guidelines?”

“Do you support submitting the app to the App Store and managing future updates?”

7. No Post-Launch Support

Releasing the app is not the finish line, it's just the start. Users will want frequent updates, bug repair, and added features. Don’t hire a developer who disappears after launch.

Look for developers or teams who offer:

Post-launch support packages

Bug fixing SLAs

Version upgrades for new iOS releases

What an Ideal Hiring Process Looks Like

Here’s a quick checklist to hire an iOS application developer effectively:

 Define your project goals & features Choose a hiring model Review portfolios and App Store listings Interview for both technical and soft skills Start with a paid test task Sign an NDA and clear contract terms Use tools like Git, Jira, Figma, or Trello for collaboration Plan for support and version updates

Real-World Example: A Startup That Got It Right

A health-tech startup in the U.S. Wanted to create a telehealth app for iOS that follows HIPAA privacy rules. They interviewed 12 developers, shortlisted 3, and finally chose a developer with:

Strong SwiftUI experience

Prior work with HealthKit and CoreML

A clear plan for post-launch support

The app was launched in 14 weeks, received a 4.8 App Store rating, and scaled to 50,000+ users within 6 months all because they avoided hiring mistakes and chose the right partner.

4 Must-Ask FAQs When Hiring iOS Developers

1. Should I hire a freelancer or an agency for iOS app development?

It depends on your budget, timeline, and scope. Freelancers are cost-effective for small projects. Agencies are better for full-service development with design, testing, and maintenance.

2. What are red flags to watch for during the hiring process?

No portfolio or fake references

Refusing to sign an NDA

Poor communication or unclear pricing

Lack of Swift or SwiftUI experience

3. Can I update and manage the app myself after launch?

Yes if the developer uses good coding practices and hands over proper documentation. Always request access to source code, Apple Developer account, and backend credentials.

Final Thoughts

Hiring the right iOS developer can take your business to new heights. But the wrong hire can cost you time, money, and brand trust. In 2025, it’s more important than ever to choose developers who are not only skilled in Swift and SwiftUI, but also understand Apple’s ecosystem, privacy standards, and user experience expectations.

When you hire an iOS application developer, don’t rush the process. Avoid the common mistakes listed in this guide, and you’ll save yourself from major issues down the line.

Need help reviewing developer portfolios or want a custom hiring checklist? Let me know and I can help prepare a selection guide or compare freelancer vs agency options tailored to your app idea.

[greatreviewsublime]

The Steps are easy, let's try to xender’s smart switch

Smart switch means it is an app to use transfer photos, contacts, messages, files and important data to a new device. The following are some of the main reasons why "smart switching" is important and will transform how we use technology and allocate resources:

 Smart switching greatly reduces waste by optimizing energy use and resource allocation in real-time, which lowers business operating costs and promotes more sustainable practices.

 Smart switching enables smooth network and system transitions as our reliance on interconnected devices grows, guaranteeing uninterrupted service for users whether at home, at work, or while on the go.

 Smart switching allows devices to automatically change settings according to user context and preferences, which improves user engagement and satisfaction and makes technology more intuitive.

 Smart switching technologies can improve communication and collaboration tools as remote work becomes more common, guaranteeing that teams stay

Step 1: Scan QR code to connect devices (no cables or accounts needed).

Step 2: Select multiple files and Click send (e.g., "Transfer all photos from Jan 2025").

Step 3: Monitor real-time progress with speed metrics.

Step 4: Manage files post-transfer it means you can delete duplicates files and organize via keywords

Xender vs. Samsung Smart Switch: Key Comparisons

Xender ; Transfers files seamlessly between any device, including Android, iPhone, Windows, and Mac.

Samsung Smart Switch ; Primarily limited to Samsung and other Android devices, restricting cross-platform functionality.

 Xender ; Utilizes Wi-Fi direct technology, often resulting in faster transfer speeds compared to traditional methods.

 Samsung Smart Switch ; While efficient for compatible devices, transfer speeds may vary based on the connection method like USB or Wi-Fi.

 User Interface

 Xender ; Features a user-friendly interface that simplifies file sharing and management.

 Samsung Smart Switch: ; Designed for Samsung users, it offers a straightforward experience but may feel limited for those unfamiliar with Samsung's ecosystem.

 File Types Supported

 Xender ; Supports a wide range of file types, including photos, videos, documents, and apps.

 Samsung Smart Switch ; Primarily focuses on transferring contacts, messages, photos, and app data, with some limitations on file types.

 Xender ; Offers features like file management, offline sharing, and the ability to create group transfers.

 Samsung Smart Switch ; Provides backup and restore options, making it useful for migrating data to a new Samsung device.

 Xender vs.  Samsung Smart Switch: Privacy & Security

 Xender ; End-to-End Encryption:

 Ensures that files are securely transmitted between devices without unauthorized access.

 No Data Stored on Servers  ; Xender does not retain any user data on its servers, enhancing privacy and reducing the risk of data breaches.

 Samsung Smart Switch ; Requires Samsung Account:

 Users must create or log into a Samsung account, which may involve sharing personal information.

 Connection of Samsung’s Ecosystem: ; Data is managed within the Samsung ecosystem, which could raise privacy concerns for users wary of data collection practices.

 Both compare by Speed & Reliability

 Xender ; Dynamic File pieces:

 Breaks files into smaller pieces for faster and more efficient transfers.

 Background Transfers: ; Allows users to continue using their devices while files are being transferred, enhancing multitasking.

 Resume Support: ; If a transfer is interrupted, users can easily resume from where it left off, minimizing data loss.

 Samsung Smart Switch ; Slower Transfers:

 Generally experiences slower transfer speeds, especially when using Wi-Fi or older connection methods. If a transfer gets interrupted, users must restart the entire process, which can be frustrating and time-consuming.

The Final point ; Both Xender and Samsung Smart Switch excel in their respective domains, Xender has broader cross-platform capabilities, whereas Samsung Smart Switch is designed specifically for Samsung users, emphasizing data migration and device setup.  Your decision should be based on the compatibility of your device and your particular needs. Samsung Smart Switch's dependence on a Samsung account may restrict privacy for certain users, Xender offers a more privacy-focused approach with its encryption and lack of server storage. With its sophisticated features like dynamic pieces and sending support, Xender excels in speed and dependability, making it a top option for users who require effective file transfers.  The Samsung Smart Switch, however, might be less

Xender. www.xender.com

google play link: https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=cn.xender&hl=en_US

App store:https://apps.apple.com/us/app/xender-file-share-share-music/id898129576

[xtrablak674]

In-Between Commitments - Audio Blog - Sound Cloud

June 22, 2012 - 12:50pm

I have really gotten to like my recorded voice a lot more, it particularly works well for me if I am calm, relaxed and bordering my lower register. When I started this audio-blog on Sound Cloud I wasn't really thinking about vocal qualities. I just wanted a short, new, and different way of recording my thoughts.

The ninety-second format, came from the length I did back in two-thousand eight, for the short videos I shared of my trip to India. Albeit by '12 broadband was much more common as were iPhones, I was cognitive of not wanting to take up a lot of peoples time. There were a few entries that went over the 90 seconds, and I was fine with that, because clearly something was on my soul, that I needed to get out.

I had a mental script for these entries, time-stamp, "Trevor Brown, artist, photographer, iconoclast", then my thoughts, then a bumper at the end that led you to my About.Me page. During my prime-artistic years branding was very important to me, this was a sort of audio branding, giving the listener something consistent to look for in each entry. But also encouraging them to learn more about me through my other social media, which at the time was quite active.

In-Between commitments is something that really came out of my preferred way of working. Early on with my start in theatre I became accustomed to intermittent work. The way it had functioned in theatre was, you'd have usually about six weeks of rehearsal and maybe a two-to four week run. So on average about two months of work per production, unless the run was extended.

This means I would usually have off-time, time in-between projects, when I was younger I normally used this time to do volunteer work. I am not really sure what flavor of crack I was smoking, to think I could afford to have one exclusive career that had such a rotating and inconsistent schedule. I truly don't think I thought it out. I used my savings, and unemployment to supplement me during these times. And for a little while this sort of worked because usually within two or three weeks of downtime I would be on to another production. #WashRepeat.

I broke up this pattern briefly, when I changed careers, and worked at an advertising agency for over three years. But as soon as I returned to the advertising world as a freelancer or contract worker I resumed the same pattern. Two or three months on this gig, then a couple of months off to take a trip somewhere, then back to another gig for nine months, then a trip to another continent. #WashRepeat.

I truly wish I could have kept that up, particularly the time when my rate was at seventy-five dollars an hour, I was bringing in roughly a six-figure salary, notwithstanding I wasn't working a full year. I would get these huge checks coupled with unemployment that would allow me to coast for like six months before looking for my next gig.

I remember getting a check for like nine thousand dollars after working at this place maybe three or four weeks. After attempting to cash the check at Chase, where the check was drawn, I had to eventually just deposit it, which annoyed me that the bank the check was drawn on wouldn't actually honor it. This time in my life I really preferred my money to stay off-book as possible. And even though a check is a record, as a contract worker, it was my duty to report 1099 income not my employer.

Now I am in a post-retirement phase, living off of the interest my money makes. I am happy and sad about this at the same time. Albeit I don't think my particular skill set makes me unemployable. I acknowledge that the work I used to do changed, as smart phones became such a regular part of daily life. But even outside of that I am highly skilled, emotionally intelligent, organized, and a technologically savvy person, skills that should easily be transferrable to any number of jobs. But the job terrain has changed so much post-COVID that it is totally unrecognizable to anything I ever forged before, I think its best I just sit it out.

My big commitments now are just getting through my days, and hoping my mental health demons will stay at bay, and allow me a bit more room to enjoy my idle-time. I am considering whether I should begin to start my plans for retirement, or hold on to some false hope that I will actually work again, which would really be ideal for my retirement financial goals. I try not to over think it too much, and focus on trying to stay firmly rooted in the present, acknowledging the future, and letting go of the past. My commitments even socially are few and far between, and I haven't quite decided if I like that or not.

[Photos courtesy of the Brown Estate]

[qubixo1]

Trump tells Ceo's Ceo to stop developing iPhone to make in India

In the past this month, Apple Ceo Tim Cook reported that the company will resume the shipping iPhones made of India to achieve majority the state requirements. It seems that the President Wonld Donald Trump does not please it. Talking on Summit to doha, Trump he said They met the baker and asked him to stop building in India and instead of loud to the United States. “I told her, ‘Tim, you’re my…

[studiopod]

Top 5 Reasons to Update Your LinkedIn Headshot in 2025

“Your profile picture is your first impression. Don’t let it be your worst.”

Let’s be real: that blurry, cropped pic from 2019 isn’t doing you any favors on LinkedIn. If you’re building a brand, job hunting, or just want to show up as your best self online — a fresh headshot is a must in 2025.

1. You’ve changed (and that’s a good thing)

New hairstyle? More confidence? Glowing up every year? Your photo should match the you that walks into meetings today — not five years ago. A current headshot says: “Yes, this is me. I own it.”

2. That photo you took on your iPhone? Yeah, it shows.

Lighting? Off. Angles? Questionable. Vibes? Not exactly LinkedIn-level.

Professional headshots look clean, confident, and intentional. Bonus: at Studio Pod, you can take one in under 10 minutes. Yup, seriously.

3. New job, new you.

Switching careers? Starting a business? Your visual brand should grow with your goals. Think of your LinkedIn headshot as your digital handshake. Make it strong, clear, and aligned with where you’re going next.

4. First impressions are important

Let’s face it: people judge fast. Before they read your resume, your bio, or even your name — they see your face.

A modern headshot helps you:

Stand out in a sea of selfies

Look polished and professional

Boost trust and engagement

5. Everyone’s leveling up. Don’t get left behind.

2025 is the year of the personal brand glow-up. A pro headshot says “I care about how I show up — because it matters.” People are upgrading. You should too.

💬 TL;DR:

Your LinkedIn headshot is your online first impression. Make it count. Make it current. Make it you.

📍 Studio Pod makes it ridiculously easy to get stunning headshots. Visit thestudiopod.com to book a session in Houston, Dallas, or Austin — no photographer, no awkwardness, just pro-level photos.