ALL THINGS GO.

jonathan gillum. thirty-four. filmmaker. former war correspondent. north ender through and through.

[jongillum]

levixemerson:

@jongillum

Levi wasn’t sure what round this was. He’d stopped counting after four, finally feeling the sweet relief of a buzz to get him going. What else did he need in life besides alcoholism? Nothing, really. “You picked a shitty wingman. Women like men with accents – I think mine is better than yours, so I guess…you’re not going to take anyone home tonight.”

“I didn’t pick you. You were literally just there. I’d have been more than happy to choose anyone else if they were willing,” he said, though only in jest— he enjoyed Levi’s company, and if anyone asked, he couldn’t imagine anyone better to accompany him on nights where he’d rather not be alone with his own thoughts. “And you’re right, I’m not gonna take anyone home tonight. I lost all hope in that by the third woman who rejected me.” Had Levi been speaking to anyone else, they would’ve begged to differ, maybe even accepted that as a challenge to find someone to take home, but this was Jon, who was more than happy to accept defeat.

[imagination]

Her (2013)

[bellamartella]

@jongillum

[muserhq]

“Just because I let you go doesn’t mean I wanted to.”

— (via dullhypotheses)

[bellamartella]

@jongillum

[jongillum]

oliverwcst:

“I wasn’t even ever allowed to be the bad boy or the mysterious one.” Oliver sulked, still a sore topic to this day. “My agent said I had the sex appeal of a golden retriever.” And he loved those dogs, even if had been intended as an insult at the time. “But whatever, she’ll find a new boytoy or poolboy or something i’m sure.” As happy as he was to hear Jon was working on something, he knew how shit blocks could feel at times and it had never ended well for himself. “Those can be rough. If you ever need someone to throw concepts at our just think aloud, you know i’m around. I’d never mind. Your creative process is always interesting to me.” Plus he’d always been too nosy for his own good. “I’ve been alright, settling in and all that. I start shooting a pilot in the city in about a month or so? So we’ll see how that turns out.”

“Better than no sex appeal, I guess?” he said, though was less concerned about finding the silver lining than he is trying to rub it in his face. In all fairness, the years had been kind to Oliver, and he’d grown to be what one might consider a conventionally attractive young  man--- more than he already was all those years back, side swept bangs and all. He’d never say that aloud, though, in fear of the other’s ego getting too big for his own good, and his current state was already something to be concerned about.

Oliver’s offer of being his sounding board was greatly appreciated, however, he was still reluctant about vocalizing this new ‘project’ he was working on, as it’s deeply personal, considerably more intimate than anything else he’s done, especially as it touches on a very sensitive matter to him. The death of his mother hasn’t been easy, but he feels like a visual culmination of his grief will help him try and move forward with the rest of his life as a son without a mother. And to express that turmoil to someone else other than to himself, in the confines of his home, rendered him afraid.

Still--- “Thanks. I appreciate it,” he said, if only so he wouldn’t be dismissive of the younger man’s efforts of trying to help. “I mean, the last time we worked together was great. You know, we should do it again. If you ever need an extra gig or anything.” He was glad Oliver was making a bigger name for himself, especially with said pilot under development. He’d seen that the boy had potential when they were involved in a project a while back, and despite having close to nothing to do with the other’s success, he couldn’t help but feel proud of how far he’s come. “What’s the pilot, anyway?” he asked, wanting to know more about him to attempt and bridge the gaps parting them all these years.

[quotesengage]

I would absorb all her suffering, leaving her weightless, and free to love me.

Imagine Me Gone by Adam Haslett (via quotesengage)

feat. @bellamartella

[jongillum]

benxscott:

“No, nothing like that, we’re pretty good friends again now,” Ben responded a very light smile crossing his features. Honestly, he didn’t know why he was sharing all of this with a complete stranger, but sometimes it didn’t hurt, it wasn’t as though any of it was a secret and generally, things in his life never were anyway. 

“Yeah?” It was possible, then. To remain just friends with someone you were once something more with, but he’d never been able to reconcile with all his past lovers due to miscommunication, which led to misunderstanding, and even as the years past, he’d never been able to properly his express his feelings and sentiments that might’ve cleared the air and possibly led to a more amicable relationship between himself and the other party. “That’s good, man. I’m glad to hear that.” He couldn’t help but feel a twang of jealousy, however, and wondered how he was able to achieve that resolution. “It’s not awkward or anything? And doesn’t it get a little... sad? You know, ‘cause of what you used to be and all?” He was probably crossing a line, some boundaries that should never be intruded by a stranger, and so he added, “Uh, sorry. You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. I was just curious--- you know, trying to get tips and all.” He laughed, a breathy huff meant to suggest that he felt sorry for himself.

[jongillum]

rafedelgado:

+ “A kind face,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes with confusion, mildly amused. It only feels like a dig because he’s a little too aware of it, but he can’t help but think it’s a reference to his ex-girlfriends: big-doe eyes, delicate nose and a kind smile. He knows Jon isn’t the type though. “A kind face ain’t no good when you hittin’ it from the back, bro.” A laugh. “I’m kiddin’, but… y’know for real.” He takes another look at her, but he shakes his head lightly. She isn’t his type, but as Jon admits his interest, a boyish grin curls along his lips. “It’d be my thing if she has an ass, yeah, but she don’t, so…” He wags his brows at Jon. “I’m gonna get you this honey with the kind face.”

He rolled his eyes, not making any effort to hide the expression from Rafe. His friend knew that he wasn’t keen to making such comments, but he did nothing to reprimand him, only expressing annoyance, though with a jesting undertone. “If you didn’t look like you did, would you still want her to have an ass, or would you get with pretty much anyone?” he asked, quirking a brow to challenge his response. The suggestive manner in which Rafe spoke caused some concern to arise, eyes widening slightly in panic. “No! No honey. Really, I’m good. No honey necessary.” 

[jongillum]

xoxoholly:

“Yeah, the designer,” she said, without missing a beat. Had she said client? The word must have slipped. “I jumped back into modelling for a bit and this is the dress I’m booked in to shoot with, so I’m stuck with it I guess. Oh well,” she shrugged, “I’ve had to wear worse things for shoots.”

He’d very clearly heard the word ‘client’, but he wasn’t going to push her for a clarification. If there was anything he knew how to do, it was how to stay in his lane and mind his own business. “I didn’t know you modeled,” he said, which could only speak for how little he actually knew her. “Well, I don’t think it’s that bad. I think you still look good. But that’s just me.”

[jongillum]

bellamartella:

Bella’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. She hadn’t seen her ex-boyfriend for over three years, and the first thing he said to her was about some kind of glass dog. She didn’t know what she had expected, but that certainly wasn’t that. “A glass dog, huh?” she retorted, trying to school her features into impassivity, but she was sure she was failing miserably. The past was rushing up on her quickly and she wasn’t prepared. Their last happy day together, their last fight, the last time saying ‘I love you’, all flashed before her eyes. She could feel the beginning of a panic attack, but she took a deep, calming breath, trying to steady herself. She was here to take care of him, that was it. Bella needed to resist the urge to reach out for him and hold him, as well as, avoid the other urge to hit him with her clipboard. “Funny you mention a glass dog, since your chart says you tried to open a jar… You do know all you have to do is turn the lid, right?” 

She took a step closer to him, putting the chart on the counter and eyeing the medical instruments in front of her. Maybe if she focused on the task she could avoid looking at him all together. Sitting carefully on the stool, she inched a little closer, gently taking his hand and removing the damp washcloth, biting her lip as she examined the wound, “So… uh - how long have you been in town?” Of course Bella knew that his mother had lived in Lanford and around the time they had broken up she had gotten sick. She figured he would have returned to take care of her, but she had no idea that he would have stayed. She took the pair of tweezers, carefully removing the largest piece of glass sticking out of his hand, dropping it on the tray. “I think you are going to need stitches. You’re going to have a scar though…” she told him quietly, still avoiding looking him in the eye. She didn’t think she would be able to stand looking up at him this close; but she was sure he could hear how loudly her heart was beating. 

She concentrated on her work, taking out all the glass and ensuring it was clean and disinfected so she could stitch it up. There was so much she wanted to say to him, too much, and while she was usually really talkative, the anxiety and panic held her back. She wanted to ask him why, to understand why he had done the one thing she had asked him not to. Taking another deep breath, trying to centre herself, she finally looked up at him, biting her bottom lip, “I can get someone else to stitch you up if you’d rather…” She tried to tell herself she wouldn’t take offence if he did, but she knew it would be a lie. 

“Hey, it’s a lot harder than you think sometimes, okay? Not sure why they have to screw it on real tight when there’s a fuckin’ seal on it, but whatever,” he said, trying to defend himself, although anything that came out of his mouth at this point just sounded like he was making excuses. “Plus, I thought hitting the lid on the edge of the table would be a good idea. It isn’t, for the record.” He lifted his hand, blood soaking through patches of the towel to try and prove his point. On any other occasion, this conversation would’ve turned into playful banter--- her teasing him about his clumsiness and him trying to appeal to her instinct of trying to fix what was broken. He couldn’t, though. Not now. How could he? He’d avoided her for three years, and although there were times that there were close encounters, times when he could’ve walked up to her and said ‘hello’ or asked how she was doing, the fact was that he didn’t. And that’s led to weeks and months and years of radio silence shrouding over any shrapnel of memory that’s left in the aftermath.

And so where he would’ve felt comfort in having her sit close to him, moving into his personal space, he what came instead was tension. Awkwardness. A stiffness of his muscles that immobilized him, especially as she took his hand, gently unwrapping the stained towel around it to reveal the wound, crimson spilling out of the cuts that immediately made him feel week. Or maybe it was just her presence after years of absence that made him feel a little disoriented--- he couldn’t be bothered to distinguish one from the other, as his primary concern was to get this over and done with as quick as possible so he can get out of here.

He allowed her to do her thing, trying to stop himself from snatching his hand away in fear of the needle. And he would’ve been fine with her working in silence and him looking anywhere but at his hand (or at her), but it seemed that she had other ideas. “I never left,” he said, never referring to since they last saw each other. “I mean... I was mostly in the city, but since mom’s condition got worse, I had to limit my work to around here, and... here I am, I guess.” He shrugged, lifting his shoulders just the slightest to prevent much movement, afraid that the smallest ripple of his muscles would cause Bella to stab him with the needle in the wrong place.

It took him a while to respond to her next words, about him getting a scar, mostly because he’d prefer not to engage in small talk. Eventually, he spoke again, “I’ll just tell people I got it from a bar fight,” the corners of his lips upturning in a feeble smile. A joke probably wasn’t the best thing to do, especially since he wasn’t very good at humor, but he wanted to show that he held nothing against her. There were hard feelings, yes, but that only meant he loved her. And that he wished things didn’t have to happen the way he did, that he could’ve kept her in his life for longer than a little while, because it seemed that the time they spent wasn’t enough, and it might never be. Probably why they found themselves back here, in each other’s space. 

He felt that she must’ve sensed his reluctance in making conversation when she suggested having someone else stitch him up. “What? No, what are you talking about? It’s fine, we’re not...” He made a gesture towards her then towards himself, but he wasn’t really sure what he wanted to say. “It’s okay, really,” he continued, nodding to show that it wasn’t a problem.

[jongillum]

charlotterenolds:

Charlotte had found herself intrigued with the male slightly. He was someone who appeared to be on the same page as she when it came to love, but that thought was immediately halted when the male continued to speak about things such as true love. Those were concepts she had trouble believing in. At least, right now in her life. “Oh, you expect that you’re eventually going to find one person you want to spend the rest of your life with?” she questioned, brow furrowed slightly.

She’d caught him there. He’d always been an idealist, and no matter how many unfortunate events stand in his way, they would never strip him of his inherently optimistic nature. They could wear him out, sure, but there’s no changing the part of him that always hopes for the best. “I mean, I guess? I feel like it’s possible, at some point, but I’m not sure if it could even happen in this lifetime. It’s probably one of those things that could happen, but might not,” he said, almost ashamed to admit to his wishful thinking. “Don’t you?”

[midsommars-deactivated20201109]

This Is Us (2016—) Created by Dan Fogelman

[jongillum]

bellamartella:

@jongillum

Bella had been toying with the idea of become a nurse since last year. The burnout time for paramedics was around five years, and she had already surpassed the time limit. It was only a matter of time before the stress became too much, and so she figured it was better to be proactive about it and try and find a new career path. She managed to pick up a couple shifts in the ER to brush up on her skills. Working as a paramedic was very different than being a nurse, and so far she’d taken something unmentionable out of someone’s rectum, had spent 45 minutes convincing a sixteen year old girl that she couldn’t get pregnant from sitting on a toilet seat and removed something from a child’s nose. So, all in all, a successful shift. Bella had one more stop to make before the end of her shift, and then she could go home and climb into a nice hot bath. 

Looking down at the chart in her hand, Bella opened the door to the examination room, “Okay, so it says here we might need to do some stitches, but I’ll examine it first and then we’ll make that determination.” She looked up at her newest patient, the smile immediately dropping from her face, “Jon…. I… What’re you doing here?” It had been years since she felt like the floor had opened up beneath her and she could feel the panic inching its way closer. She should have known that the quiet life, free of complications, that she had carved out for herself over the past three years couldn’t last forever. She was face-to-face with the man she had loved before she had sworn off the idea all together. It would be a lie to say she didn’t think about him often, and didn’t miss him from time-to-time, but those were just passing thoughts and never a present reality. She tried to shake herself out of the panic, looking down at his injury, “What happened?” 

Being physically incapable of sports because of his lack of hand-eye coordination was one thing, but getting injured from trying to open a jar in his hand is another. He would’ve stitched himself up out of the embarrassment of having to explain to the ER nurse what had happened to him, but the cuts had been on his dominant hand, and he’d rather swallow his pride than lose his hand from an open wound infection. That, and he probably wouldn’t be able to pierce the needle into his skin at the mere sight of blood coming from his own body.

Thus, he found himself sitting on the examination table, his injured hand covered in a damp washcloth, as he waited for someone to attend to him. He was getting impatient, but he had to remind himself that the nurses were probably busy with more serious situations than a grown man who doesn’t know how to open a pickle jar properly. Relief came, however, when the door opened and a woman walked past it carrying a clipboard and already beginning to discuss the procedures with him. Her face was slightly out of view as she had her head bent reading out of the chart, but once she drew nearer, he was able to see the familiar features of her face that allowed him to recognize who it was.

The surprise she expressed was sufficient for them both, as he wouldn’t really know how to react to the situation, although the gape in his mouth was enough to show that he was quite taken aback. Anyone would, really, as no one really expects their ex to walk through the door and claiming to stitch them up. It was hilarious, if he had to think of it in another way, that she was here to fix his hand when he’d broken her heart, but at the moment, he could think of nothing else but pure shock.

“I, uh...” He began to think of a less humiliating reason for his being there. “Got bit by a dog,” was the first excuse to come to mind, but then he knew she’d see the glass shards and probably have him get anti-rabies shots and a bunch of other things that were absolute not necessary if he could just tell her the truth. He didn’t find it reasonable to pay a large amount of money just so he could spin himself an intricate lie. However, his mouth moved faster than his brain. “The dog had glass teeth. So... if you see tiny glass there, it’s because... the dog had- yeah.” He lowered his head in defeat, knowing that he’d given himself away, but he was sure she could’ve figured that out on her own. She always did.

[jongillum]

adxbailey:

For the past thirty minutes or so, Ade had been lost in a book, but he didn’t mind the interruption. In fact, it was kind of nice, after spending a day talking to little people, it made a change to converse with adults — especially those he enjoyed chatting with. “I would have found a subtle way to do it, I’m sure,” he commented with a laugh. At the question, he shook his head, wishing he actually had something interesting to tell the other. Sadly not, though, as usual. All he ever seemed to do lately was work. “Not too much… unfortunately,” he responded. “Just hoping summer hurries up and gets here. How about you?”

“That’s cool,” he said, paired with a short nod. “Any plans? Summer destinations you’ve always wanted to cross off your bucket list?” He hoped he wasn’t being too nosy towards the other, but he’s always been better at talking about other people than about himself, and it isn’t because there are topics he wants to avoid, but because he doesn’t really think his life is interesting enough to make for good conversation. But as the question is reflected back to him, he knew he had to answer, and perhaps try to sound more enthralling lest Ade get bored of him. “Ah, well, you know. Picking up work here and there, doing a little freelance on the side.” Not enthralling enough. “I’ve been, uh... trying to work on a personal project for a while now, but it’s... not really looking so good.” 

[jongillum]

benxscott:

At the question, Ben wrinkled his nose in thought, taking several moments to decide how he wanted to answer that question. “Things ended fine with one, so that’s all good,” he responded. “As for the other, we talked things over before I went anywhere near where she worked, believe me,” he chuckled at that last remark.

“Yeah? How’d she take it? She didn’t put a restraining order on the door, did she?” He realized he shouldn’t be one to joke about such things considering how he, too, was at odds with someone he once considered the most important person in his life until she wasn’t, but he found that a little self-deprecation could go along way in learning how to cope with the heartbreak.

[jongillum]

xoxoholly:

“Yes, it does matter,” Holly insisted. “The client specified something along these lines, and he’s footing the bill, so you know… gotta make it good.”

“The client?” With the context he’d assumed in his head, the word fell a little out of place. He’d barely kept in touch with Holly over the years, but he hadn’t cut off all means of connection, and so he’d hear from her every now and then, meet at parties at a mutual friend’s house, mingle at a bar. He supposed they were really more acquaintances than friends, and so he wasn’t privy to the more intimate details of her life that someone who probably communicated with her more regularly would know.

[jongillum]

charlotterenolds:

“No, no, it’s not sad at all because that’s also my kind of style,” Charlotte said with a nod of her head, though she was probably the one doing the dumping because she wasn’t sure if she even believed in love anymore. After hearing horror stories and watching people fall out of love, she liked to think that the special kind of love could only be found in some movie theatres rather than in real life. “So, I guess we just have to be sad together.”

“Misery loves company, as they say,” he muttered, recalling the old saying. Truthfully, he did find a strange comfort in knowing that he wasn’t the only one having terrible luck with these endeavors, although to be fair, he knew he should be trying harder. Especially since opportunities for romance were being handed to him on napkins. “I haven’t been on a date in years. Like, a real date. So me acting horribly on the first date is really bound to happen. I’d say I just need some ‘practice’ to get back on the game, but it feels kind of wrong using people as the test run before I meet the actual love of my life.”

[jongillum]

maxinerogcrs:

“Isn’t thinking the doom of mankind?” Maxine quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t know if someone smarter and more famous than me already said that, but if not, I’m coining the term right now. I’ll be in History books,” she grinned. While Max humour usually tended to be crass, there was a part of her, the one that grew in Kingsgate, that still remembered how to have a decent conversation. Not like she was putting on a coat that wasn’t hers, pretending she was someone else, but just a different part of her, one she didn’t care often to show. “Well, now I certainly am flattered: you think I’m beautiful and I didn’t make you run away. I haven’t achieved that from a decent man in years,” she chuckled. “You shouldn’t be too surprised. You’re good looking guy. Maybe if you stopped thinking too much, you’d get more napkins like that.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely one for the books,” he affirmed, finding himself more and more at ease in her presence and less conscious about his performance trying to talk to a pretty girl. The word she used to describe him was received as a compliment--- ‘decent’ these days, referring to men, was kind of a rare commodity. It should sadden him how he’d set the bar too low for himself, but he’d take anything at this point. “That’s very nice of you,” he said, choosing to acknowledge her benevolence rather than argue with it. A hand moved over the table and reached for the nearest object to fidget with, found the unused napkin folded beside his coffee cup, and smoothed his fingers along its edges. “I’d rather not let it get to my head, though. I don’t wanna be mistaken for a pick-up artist displaying all the napkins I’ve gathered over the years,” he joked, humored by the thought.