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starlene · 2 years

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In episode #156 of the podcast Reply All, the hosts receive a mysterious phone call from an anonymous person who claims they’ve come up with a cure for baldness. I’ve always loved that episode, because to me, that call sounds exactly like Jekyll trying to convince the board of governors of his new miracle cure.

Hence, this.

HJ4

Postgraduate student Henry Jekyll approaches the board of governors of St. Jude’s Hospital to secure funding for his new experiment: a cure for baldness.

Henry Jekyll entered the boardroom of St. Jude’s Hospital, nerves nearly getting the better of his self-assurance. He was greeted with an air of complete indifference. The governors were seated around a table, quietly chatting about whatever it is that governors of a respectable London hospital chat about, without as much as giving Jekyll a look to acknowledge his presence. A secretary was sitting on the side, lazily scribbling something on the pages of his notebook.

Jekyll gave Sir Danvers Carew a look. Sir Danvers nodded, and with just a low a-hem from him, the room fell silent.

“My friends,” Sir Danvers began. “As governors of St. Jude’s Hospital, we are well aware of the controversial nature of Mr. Jekyll’s research. But our high regard for his work on his PhD and his reputation as a hard-working student demand that he be given a proper hearing.”

It was now or never! Jekyll took a deep breath and recited his carefully rehearsed opening line:

“Distinguished governors! I have requested your time and attention today because I’m pretty sure I might have figured out the cure to balding.”

“Jekyll, you’re all talk and no result,” General Glossop immediately retorted. “This is a hospital! We deal in saving lives, not in wig making.”

Jekyll shot back an irritated look.

“It’s not, like, just related to hair. It actually has a lot of ramifications for, like, health.”

Moving his eyes from one governor to the next, Jekyll tried to catch some sign of interest or encouragement in their eyes. It was to no avail – his gaze was only met with haughty, indifferent looks.

“There is some science behind it, like, some biochemistry. I did take some science classes in college.”

Everyone in the room was staring at Jekyll with an unreadable expression now. Sir Danvers muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Someone coughed.

“Well, what is this mysterious serum?”

Jekyll fell silent for a little while, searching for the right words. He had prepared a full speech in his mind beforehand, but this wasn’t going according to script.

“I cannot say. I mean, it’s sort of, like, there’s a limited supply of this thing. By nature of what it is, it’s limited by, like, resources.”

“So you’re not willing to tell us what’s in it?”

Jekyll shook his head. Lady Beaconsfield rolled her eyes.

“Can you at the very least tell us this: why do you think this mystery substance cures baldness?”

“I’ve sorta been testing it… on myself.”

Finally, there was an observable reaction: Jekyll’s response elicited a series of horrified gasps and disapproving remarks from the board.

“You’re the laughing stock of your faculty and polite society! A mad scientist!”

“Order, please,” Sir Danvers commanded. The racket died down, and with an exaggerated air of serenity and self-control, Sir Archibald Proops took it upon himself to continue the interrogation.

“How do you apply it?”

“Indeed, do tell us,” Lord Savage interjected in a mocking tone. “How did you discover this finite resource and be like, You know what? I’m going to rub this on my head!”

“No, you don’t rub anything on your head,” Jekyll almost yelled, “there’s no rubbing of any substances anywhere! It's a food, actually.”

“It’s a food?“

Jekyll nodded.

“But you won’t tell us what it is?”

Jekyll shook his head.

“And it makes your hair grow back?”

“It doesn’t do just that, it’s, like… it makes you feel… uhh.”

Jekyll buried his face into his hands. Whatever he had imagined while practicing the meeting in front of his mirror that morning, it wasn’t this nonsensical, hostile cross-examination. Why was it so hard? Why couldn’t he make them understand?

“The thing is,” Jekyll took a deep breath and continued, “it goes beyond hair. I used to feel, like, really tired and sort of depressed throughout the day. Just, like, I just wanna lie in bed and not do anything. But this has almost, like, removed this shroud of depression…”

“Is it swordfish,” the Bishop of Basingstoke interrupted. “The mystery potion? Is it swordfish?”

“It’s the blood of salamanders,” Lady Beaconsfield offered.

Suddenly, everyone was shouting over each other again.

“What’s all the mystery? Much ado about nothing, if you ask me.”

“I do feel like we're being conned somehow. This feels like a con.”

“Is it fucking moon rocks? What is it?!”

“Forever asking us to endorse empty promises!”

Even Sir Danvers, who quietly prided himself in his calm and composed manner no matter the situation, was nearing the end of his rope now. He spoke up.

“You’re being very coy about this. Stop beating around the bush! Also, I still don't know exactly what your question is. Why are you in so much pain about this, and what do you want from us?”

Jekyll let out an audible groan. Why were they being so damn obtuse?

“I’m concerned because if it comes out, then… almost by nature, it has to be limited. Then only, like, wealthier people will afford it. Which is why I’m asking for your help. I need funds so that it can become cheaper.”

Jekyll’s gaze met a wall of unreadable expressions again. His voice cracking from frustration, he launched out on his last desperate attempt.

“I just think everyone deserves to have hair, not just millionaires and billionaires.”

The governors were trying to catch each other’s eyes now, as if to make sure that everyone was on the same page. After a brief moment, it was Sir Archibald that encapsulated all of their thoughts into two concise words.

“Who cares?”

After a devastating silence that Jekyll felt stretched beyond both time and space, the secretary spoke up:

“So, distinguished colleagues. Your verdict, please.”

“Nay.”

“Sir Danvers?”

“Abstain.”

“By six votes to none – with one abstention – this proposition is rejected. Thank you for your time, Mr. Jekyll.”

Rushing out of the boardroom at a furious pace, Jekyll almost crashed into Utterson. His friend had been waiting for him in the corridor, eavesdropping on every word.

Giving a look at Jekyll’s receding hairline and running a hand through his own head of thick curls, he spoke up, his nonchalant comment destroying what little was left of Jekyll’s composure.

“Well, that went pretty much as well as can be expected, don’t you think?”

Note: 90% of the dialogue in this fic is made up of quotes from either episode #156 The Cure for Everything of Reply All, or the script of Jekyll & Hyde the musical.

#I have no idea if this is funny to anyone else but myself... but to me it's pretty hilarious #Jekyll and Hyde #Jekyll & Hyde #Jekyll and Hyde musical #Reply All #my stories.

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babyjamiebarnes · 3 years

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Build-A-Bear

Part One

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker (platonic), background MCU characters

Warnings: [chapter] language; [series] language, smut, violence

Summary: The only people who knew she was actually a Stark were her dad, her step-mom Pepper, and her “uncles” Happy and Rhodey. A promotion within Stark Industries takes her from an already-sought after position in the Weapons Anaylsis Unit straight to the Avengers as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist... which means her dad is her new boss. There’s only one rule at work: no fraternizing with coworkers. There’s one more rule at home: no dating any Avengers. So what is she supposed to do when a grumpy super soldier becomes not-so-grumpy around her? At 25, do her dad’s rules still apply? Or is her entire livelihood at risk?

Author’s Note: I’ve written a decent portion of this but know I won’t keep writing it or post it unless I hold myself accountable and get it out there in the first place 🙈 I haven’t written much for Marvel yet but I’ve read plenty and have written for other fandoms in the past (not to mention the writing degree on my wall lol). I’ll try to post every 2-3 days to keep this moving! And if you like it and want to, buy me a coffee!

No one knew Tony Stark had a daughter. No one but Tony Stark and his daughter. Well, and her step-mom Pepper. And her godfather Rhodey. And her uncle-not-uncle Happy. But no one in their everyday lives knew. She was given her mother’s maiden name and kept a secret, even when she turned 17 and moved to a small apartment near NYU’s campus (with Happy stationed right next door, of course) to start life as a truly normal adult, or as close to normal as an undercover Stark could be. When she graduated with her PhDs in robotics and electrical engineering at 25 — proving brains really do run in the family — she moved into her own apartment in Manhattan, funded by her father under the pseudonym “Michael Myers.” Subtlety was never his strong suit.

Fortunately for you, growing up without the Stark name let you live a relatively normal life. It also allowed you to apply for a position within Stark Industries without being ushered past any red tape because of who your father is. Outside of the financial advantage you had, you worked for your spot in a STEM career. You suffered through every man in your field belittling your work despite knowing less than you. You dealt with the constant interruptions and “well, actually” because of your gender. You powered through late nights and early mornings when your mind was flowing too smoothly to quit.

The last thing you wanted to do was have all that work disregarded because you shared a name with genius billionaire playboy philanthropist Tony Stark. So you filled out the application, sent in your resume and cover letter, and attached three letters of recommendation from your professors. You went through hours of interviews, background checks (conveniently redacting your father’s name), and polygraph tests until that offer letter showed up in your email. You even had to sign the Non-Disclosure Agreements that would bar you from discussing *anything* work-related with anyone outside of your department.

You spent your first year in the weapons analysis department, evaluating alien weaponry and determining how it worked and how to disable it. You had your fair share of mishaps, of course. Holes blasted into walls, fried robot dummies, even burnt animal carcasses. By the end of your first year, your supervisor sent a commendation and proposal for you for an undisclosed promotion. After Pepper Potts “thoroughly examined your resume, cover letter, and accomplishments during your tenure with Stark Industries,” as the letter read, you were awarded a position working on the Avengers’ weapons as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist. You’d never see a fight in-person, but you were assigned to work on advancements and post-battle repairs for everyone, from the Winter Soldier’s arm to the Falcon’s wings to Vision’s... everything. The only heroes you wouldn’t work on were Iron Man and War Machine (those were your dad’s territory) and Spider-Man.

On your first day in your new position, the one and only Pepper Potts showed you to your new lab on the 47th floor. It took all your willpower to look your step-mother in the eye and say, “Wow, Miss Potts. This is amazing. It’s such an honor to meet you,” with a straight face to convince any passerby that you had no outside affiliation with her. Even if her eyes stayed steady on you, you could see her mentally rolling them.

Once you were alone behind the doors of the elevator, conversation changed course.

“You’re going to be sharing a lab with someone else,” Pepper said.

“Sweet. As long as they’re competent, that’s fine by me,” you shrugged. Part of earning your degrees was learning to share a workspace with others, even those who bumbled and fumbled with no idea what they were doing. You’d had more hair singed by nearby explosions than you’d like to admit.

“He’s still in college so he’s not here as often as the others. Most of his work will be on Spider-Man’s gadgets and suit, but you can use him for any help you need.”

Walking past the familiar faces of Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho in their respective labs, Pepper ushered you into your lab, where you were met by your father and put on the same excited facade you did with Pepper.

“Oh my god, you’re Tony Stark! This is incredible! It’s such an honor to meet you, sir!”

He shook his head at you and reluctantly accepted your outstretched hand. Oh, the jokes you’d be making at family dinners.

“Yeah, anyway, this is your new lab, Miss [Y/L/N]. Make yourself at home. This lab rat over here is mister Parker. If you have any questions, he can at least bullshit an answer for you.”

The young man on the other side of the lab perked up at the sound of his name. He tugged the goggles off his face and set down his soldering rod to rush over to you.

“Hi. Hi, I’m Peter,” he said, reaching his hand out to you.

“I’m [Y/N]. It’s nice to meet you, lab partner.”

He looked to be a bit younger than you and at least relatively smart, if the MIT sweatshirt peeking out from under his lab coat said anything. If your dad gave him an internship like this, you knew you shouldn’t question it. He had to be a genius.

The kid just smiled at you, continuing to shake your hand past what most would deem socially acceptable.

“Okay, enough of that,” Tony said, pushing on your joined hands to separate you two. “Mister Parker might be in and out of the lab from time to time. He joins the Avengers on the occasional recon mission for immediate repairs but since he’s on break from classes, you’ll see him more often than not. Play nice.”

When he noticed you surreptitiously looking Peter up and down, he added, “Remember, no fraternizing with coworkers.” He pointed a finger directly at you before he spun and pointed to your fellow lab mate, realizing he should warn Peter too to save face.

“All the blueprints you need for the Tin Man’s arm are in the system. We’ll have you start on that and see what you can do about minimizing the sound that thing makes. Any other questions, give Pep a call.”

“Thank you, mister Stark. I really do appreciate everything,” you said genuinely.

“Yeah, well… don’t let me down,” he replied, patting you on the shoulder on his way out. Pepper followed close behind, leaving you alone with Peter Parker.

“So Peter,” you started, sliding onto the lab chair next to where he remained standing, “tell me about yourself.”

“Uh… what do you want to know?” he asked as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

“How old are you?” you asked immediately.

“I’m 21.”

Only four years younger than you. So you’d probably get along just fine.

“I assume you’re at MIT?” He nodded. “What are you studying?”

“Biomolecular and mechanical engineering.” He said it so casually, you’d think he was talking about the last song he heard on the radio.

“Damn,” you responded, eyes wide. “I thought robotics and electrical engineering was wild but fuck, that sounds like hell.”

He laughed and nodded, letting a bit of the tension in his shoulders fall. “Yeah, it’s not easy. But it’s worth it.”

He shot you a small smile before gesturing back at his project. “I should probably get back to work and let you get started.”

For the rest of the day, you familiarized yourself with the Winter Soldier’s arm to figure out how to… turn the volume down? You assumed it was the gears inside causing the noise, but part of you wanted to outfit an audio jack and speaker just to fuck with your dad.

You and Peter worked in relative silence, aside from the playlist he had quietly playing through the lab sound system. When lunch rolled around, however, you finally spoke up.

“Hey Peter,” you called, his eyes flicking from the chemical beakers in front of him up to you. “First of all, what are you doing?”

“Um, it’s Spider-Man’s web fluid. Just trying to find more durable combinations.”

“Interesting.” As much as you wanted to touch the stringy substance, you knew better than to fiddle with someone else’s lab work. “Okay so second thing, in my last position, I’d just order food and have it brought to my floor but now that I’m on an exclusive floor, what do you do for lunch?”

“Oh, there are a couple security guys who have clearance to come into this floor. They just can’t get into any rooms so you’d have to meet them at the elevator. But I usually find something in the kitchen down the hall.”

“Oh, sweet. Thanks!” you said as you made your way out the door. Before you could fully exit, you turned back to see if Peter wanted you to grab anything. Once he promised he’d take his own break ‘once I get this one thing figured out,’ you continued to make your way to the kitchen.

As you drew closer to the doorway, you could hear three voices speaking over each other. They didn’t sound angry, but they were definitely arguing. You opened the door anyway and almost immediately froze in your tracks. The Falcon stood with one hand on his own head and one on the Winter Soldier’s head while Captain America rolled his eyes before those same eyes landed on you, along with the rest of the room.

“Perfect,” Sam started. “Hey new girl, between the three of us,” he said, pointing to himself, the Soldier, and the Captain, “who has the best hair?”

“First of all, my name is [Y/N]. Second,” you continued, making your way past them to the fridge you hoped your dad kept stocked with goodies, “that’s an unfair question.”

You grabbed a soda and popped it open before turning back to the three men. “Your hair suits each of you. Cap wouldn’t look good with Winter Soldier hair and Falcon wouldn’t look good with Cap’s hair.” You took a few steps closer, leaning against the island counter between you and eyeing each of them. Your eyes settled on the Winter Soldier, unashamedly flitting across his face and admiring the sharpness of his features. “You,” pointing at him, “could probably pull off either of their looks, though.”

Bucky smirked at you, but his rosy cheeks gave away a hint of embarrassment at your compliment. Steve and Sam, on the other hand, weren’t taking it quite as gracefully.

“What?!” Sam shouted. “Okay, now I know you’re lying. I could pull off Cap’s hair for sure.”

“You know, I think shaggy hair would really suit me,” Cap said, only half sarcastically.

You giggled to yourself as the three of them started talking over each other again, all dead set on their own hair being the best of them and positive they could pull off the others’ looks. While they bickered, you searched the pantry until you found a snack to at least get you through the remainder of the day.

“Alright boys, it’s been fun but I have work to do,” you said as you walked past them again. “Actually, wait. Bucky — can I call you Bucky?” He nodded even though you continued anyway. “If you could stop by lab six today, I’d love to check out your arm in person. The digital renderings aren’t quite the same.”

“Uh, okay. Sure. I’ll find you,” he said quietly.

“Sweet, thanks!” And with that, you skedaddled back to your lab.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x Stark!reader #Stark!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes series #bucky x Stark!reader

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write-orflight · 4 years

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Galileo. Prologue

**Gif Not Mine**

Next Chapter

Pairings: SpencerXReader, enemies to friends to lovers trope

Rating: M

Words: 1.5K (She’s a smol Prologue)

Warnings: None right now. but will eventually be smut.

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N is an astronomer with her head constantly in the stars. But when a serial killer is threatening NASA’s top scientists, she is left in the protective custody of a man who’s gravitational pull threatens to pull her back down to earth.

A.N Hey, my children! This is an idea that’s been plaguing me for weeks and I just had to get at least the prologue out (This series is mainly just my excuse to get my pointless knowledge about space out there). I’m probably not going to update this until I finish ‘trouble’ which should be in this next coming week. I’m just really excited about this one and wanted to put it out there too. Message to be on the taglist! -Cia

Prologue: Mercury

There are 400 billion stars in the galaxy.

Some insignificant, some small, some large, and some with great potential.

Humans were the same way. Though most were insignificant to you, which is why you didn’t indulge in the trifles of relationships and companionship. The stars were far more interesting to you.

And you spent your life studying them.

Ever since your dad bought you your first telescope at age 7, you knew exactly what your purpose was. To study and find out what else was out there. And for a while that was all you did, all through school, no time for boys, friendship and trivial prepubescent things, your mind was literally in the clouds. That carried you all the way to Yale where you graduated Summa cum Laude with 3 Phds in Astronomy, Engineering, and Physics.

Getting the job at NASA wasn’t surprising to you at all.

Meeting Jonathan was.

Your first day together had been uneventful, you had been introduced and told your assignment which was to just track the movement of a comet that came every fifty years. A couple of months in and by pure accident you saw her.

It couldn’t be.

You immediately yelled at him to come over, to confirm that you were just crazy but he had seen it too. You had just discovered a planet. And not just any planet one that through your research could very well sustain human life. Jonathan, though not knowing you long, picked you up in a giant hug and swung you around. You couldn’t help the smiles and tears that had fallen from your eyes. This was exactly why you were doing this, for the art of discovery and the overwhelming feeling that came with it.

After weeks of convincing the boards and getting funding, you and Jonathan were now heads of your own department solely designed for tracking and finding new information on Gaia, the planet the two of you graciously named. Now your nights were filled with solving equations and trying to get more than a glimmer of Gaia from your telescope. Alas, as much as you loved her, she was very slow. Jonathan would play his old jazz records and sing off-key dancing around the planetarium gifted by NASA. You didn’t know exactly when they happened, but you started to feel like maybe all humans weren’t insignificant and you started to feel like that about Jonathan. You found yourself watching his bright smile as he danced and singed around, often asking you to please dance with him, which you always declined.

Now you wish you had.

If you knew it’d be the last time, you for sure would have.

But no one could’ve predicted a serial killer coming after NASA scientists.

And no one could’ve predicted you walking into work and seeing your best friends throat slit ear to ear.

—————————————————

The months following Maeve’s death were hard on Spencer. He was a man of science, he knew probability and often relied on statistics for his job. The predictability of it was what made it easy to cope.

But sometimes it wasn’t. And sometimes he hated the unpredictability of his job.

Losing Maeve had definitely been one of those days.

On one of his first couple weeks back, he’s called into the briefing room.

“We don’t have to go far for this case.” JJ says manning the slides to show the team “Four NASA scientists at the Goddard Flight Center in Maryland have been found in their offices, throat slit and hands bound with duct tape behind the back.”

“Execution style…” Morgan says with a grimace. “Brutal.”

“Obviously someone angry too.” Emily adds. “To just do it like that, no sign of remorse. But the jaggedness of it makes it look passionate.”

“The police and NASA believe they know who the next target is as well.” JJ adds moving to the next slide which showed a beautiful girl standing in front of a whiteboard of equations. Long silky hair tied up in a bun, glasses on her face and bright white teeth shown through the smile. You could obviously tell the picture was taken for an article or sort. Spencer thought she was cute but didn’t dwell on it long. “This is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. She worked alongside Victim #4, Jonathan Brewer as co-head scientists of the Terra-Mora project.”

“They think the Unsub is specifically targeting her department and people who have done work for her department. And if he’s already killed the partner...” Hotch trails off.

“He’s escalating…” Spencer adds.

“Which puts her under extreme risk. Which is why I’m putting her in protective custody.” Hotch adds. “Reid, I’d like you to do that.”

Spencer looks confused. “Why me? Shouldn’t someone like Morgan or Prentiss go?”

“I’ve been told Dr. Y/L/N is very reluctant about having security. I figured having someone as intelligent as her would cushion the blow.”

Spencer leaned back in his chair. Great… just what he needed.

—————————————

“No, Clifton.”

“It’s not up for discussion, Y/N.” Cliff says walking away from you down the hall. You speed up to catch up with him.

“I’m 31 years old! I don’t need a babysitter.” You said, angrily.

“You’re not getting a babysitter, Y/N. The FBI is being gracious enough to provide you extra security. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you people are dying.”

“You know you don’t have to remind me! I lost Jon!”

“Then you know why you have to take protection, Y/N. You know what important work you and Jonathan were doing. You’re the only one left to finish it. Please just let someone take care of you while they catch the sick man who’s doing this.” You sigh, Cliff takes that as compliance. “Now get to work. I’ll show him to your office when he gets here.”

You walk into work and look at the time, 10:30 PM, peak time for planets to be seen. And if you were lucky, you’d probably get a glimmer of her again. You were right because just as soon as you stepped up to the telescope there she was, or more like there was a sliver of her. You’ve never been able to get a full look at Gaia, but just past Saturn was the curvature of the dwarf planet you adored so much. You pick up your tape recorder, and begin to speak into it.

“January 16th, Terra-Mora logs. This is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. Dr. Jonathan Brewer has passed and will no longer be making logs.” You choke up a bit but clear your throat and keep going. “Gaia’s Southwest region is visible from earth tonight. Seems her clouds are finally dissipating, and you can see some of her icy plains, I am pretty positive it’s a lake. Hopefully with the Approval of SPOT, we’ll be able to know for sure what’s up there.” You look at your door to see your boss, Dr. Clifton and a man standing watching you. “Y/L/N out.” You say into the tape recorder.

You get up to walk over the two men.

“You know everyone does their logs into the computers now, no one uses an actual tape anymore.” Clifton says.

“I’m old fashioned.” You cross your arms.

“This is Dr. Spencer Reid with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He will be watching you while we figure out what’s happening.”

“This is who’s supposed to be protecting me?” You ask. “You look like a strong wind would blow you over.”

The man looks at you annoyed. “I can assure you, I’m more than capable of doing my job, Miss--”

“Doctor.” You say.

“Excuse me.”

“It’s Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. And I worked very hard and paid a lot of debt for the title so I’d prefer it if you used it.” You looked annoyed right back at him. Something about the man rubbed you the wrong way.

Dr. Clifton looks at the both of you uncomfortable. “Well I’ll leave you both to it.” He nods at you both before leaving you alone.

“I think we got off on the wrong--”

“Listen Dr. Reid.” You cut him off. “This is probably going to be hell for the both of us. I expressed heavily to my boss about not needing protective custody which of course fell on deaf ears, so I’m going to make one thing clear. We’re not here to be friends. I’m here to do important work that I now have to do single-handedly because you guys failed to do your work in the first place and my coworker had to die because of it.” Tears threatened to choke you but you didn’t let them. “And to be frank, I don’t know what exactly you’re here for besides being a pain in my ass so I suggest staying out of my way and not fucking touching anything. Keep that in mind and we’ll get along swimmingly.” You say, turning your back to him, heading back to the telescope and looking at him as if daring him to challenge you. For a second it looks like he might, he’s standing trying very hard not to look like he’s completely fuming. Then he just blows a frustrated breath and sits in a chair halfway across the room.

You didn’t know why, and you didn’t have a real reason.

But you decided that you hated Dr. Spencer Reid.

Which you guessed was another thing humans could be.

Message to be tagged!

#spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #bau x reader #spencer x reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut

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deniigi · 3 years

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Hi Dr. Matt, I too am a college youth coming to you for advice, well actually more like concept. What does GPA actually mean, in terms of my ability to get jobs/go to grad school/etc. I grew up in a very "4.0" or bust household and while I've broken free (god that first B was freeing) I have less than 0 ability to actually add context to these numbers. Help?

Hi, anon!

So let’s start from the top and be real broad for you and other folks who might be in different circumstances:

GPA = Grade Point Average. Each institution may calculate this differently. I occasionally have to do them by hand, but why the fuck would you do that is the better question here.

GPA is usually a number between 0.00 and 4.00. Students who fall below a certain GPA at college/univ level (for many institutions in the USA, 2.0 is that number, which is a C average) go on something called Academic Probation

The reason Academic Probation is a problem is because if you are on Academic Probation for multiple semesters, you may be ‘Disqualified,’ I.e. Kicked out of your college/univ.

So in this sense, GPA functions as a way of demonstrating to the University and the people giving you Financial Aid that you are making satisfactory progress on your degree, and you are ‘worthy’ of continuing to receive subsidized education.

While that’s a shitty way of conceiving of humans and education, that’s the system we live in, and that’s essentially why it’s really important for people to be aware of their GPA.

It’s not that that number defines you or your intrinsic worth as a human, rather its that that number gives you access to other things.

Now, on that note, let’s talk about GPA in terms of social value, economic value, and social and academic mobility. It’s going to be a long conversation, so I’m putting it under the cut.

-------------

Depending on your field of career and study, average GPAs are going to vary.

Engineers, for example, go through such difficult classes that they have notoriously low GPAs. Like anything from a 2.0 to a 3.0 is solid and anything higher than like a 3.3 is considered by many in Engineering fields to be really good.

Many STEM fields are like this. Chemistry, Kinesiology, Physics, Math, Engineering, Biology, Bio-Chem, etc.

In many Social Science and Humanities fields, GPAs are less important than research and analytical abilities, writing strength, communication abilities, teamwork stuff -- transferable, “soft” skills essentially.

That being said, when you are trying to move up, academically or economically, GPA may become a factor that you start to think about--especially when you are applying to a type of specialized or graduate school (certification programs, nursing programs, teaching certificate, Masters degrees, PhDs, etc).

Many programs have GPA limits on their programs in order to thin out their application pools. Nursing programs may have a 3.0 minimum. Masters programs may ask you to have only gotten X number of Bs or Cs.

I want to emphasize here, however: GPA minimums depend on the program itself.

Prestige is one of the main driving factors behind demanding a certain GPA. Places with prestigious programs and jobs have the notoriety that brings them loads of applicants, which in turn gives them the ability to raise standards.

The top 10 schools in the US are going to be able to demand a 3.5 GPA or higher for admission.

The top firms in a city can say that you need X amount of experience in X area to be hired onto their team.

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When it comes to applying to graduate school stuff (law school, Masters programs, PhD programs), I would focus less on whether or not you have a freakishly high GPA and more on your extracurriculars, your publications, research opportunities, writing abilities, analytical skills, and the hard skills necessary for your chosen field (I.e. Knowing MatLab or Python or GIS).

The reason for that is that you don’t really choose a graduate school so much as you choose a supervisor at a graduate school.

So if you can connect with a potential supervisor and are able to demonstrate to them that you A) are an asset to their program and B) have the skills necessary to do the work, then they are often the ones who decide whether or not you get admitted.

Supervisors can often smooth over lumps and bumps when it comes to admission of graduate students because THEY will be the ones overseeing your work before the Univ/program is.

Example: When I applied to one of my schools, the potential supervisor I was working with coached me in how to structure my research statement. They also advocated for me in admissions, and I did, in fact, get into that school (even if I chose not to go). For my other choice, I worked with a different supervisor who helped me get funding to help me secure admission as well.

So in this way, it is far more important for you to impress a supervisor than to have the best GPA of all applicants.

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Now for the rest of y’all who aren’t thinking about grad school or a certification program, you may be asking, “Will my GPA affect my ability to get a job in the future?”

And first off, I want to sort of break down the notion that your degree = your career. Only something like 30% of people end up working in the field they get their degree in, so that tells you already that GPA and choice of Major kind of doesn’t matter in terms of being able to make money.

But more to the point:

Generally speaking, most (like, 95% or something) jobs do NOT require you to list your GPA on your resume or any other application materials.

Some positions may ask you to demonstrate proficiency in a given area or hard skill. Some positions may ask you to provide proof that you completed your degree. But usually, this proof is given to a company AFTER you have applied and accepted an offer for the position.

Example: after I accepted my job, I was asked to submit proof of my Masters degree, because my offer was contingent on me having the credentials I said that I did.

Now, if you are fresh out of school and don’t have much experience, but you’ve got a bangin’ GPA, that may be something that you consider listing on your resume to demonstrate to employers that you are a smart cookie, simply lacking experience.

If you are a new graduate in a STEM field specifically, and you have a bangin’ GPA and are looking for work in STEM, then you may also list that on your resume.

But I want to emphasize that you don’t have to. It is your choice. And in this scenario, you would only do that if you were applying to a highly specific position where that mattered and if you felt that it would help you.

If you’re applying to anything that is not an internship or a STEM entry job (like a new engineer, a new lab assistant, etc) there is no reason for you to put your GPA on your resume. That should not affect your chances for a position.

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That’s probably plenty of food for thought for now. But anon, you can breathe. I got your other message and you are doing fantastically. Try to understand that the number isn’t as important as your competence and understanding in the material you are learning.

For right now, focus on building the skills. When it comes down to it, people would rather have a doctor who understands what to do to save their life than a doc who got a 4.0 in undergrad.

#ask #life advice #academic advice #GPA #y'all can do this know that GPA is a small part of your overall credentials

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morwensteelsheen · 3 years

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I’m starting grad school this autumn and honestly I’m getting nervous. Like yes I am v excited about the whole prospect overall and I do miss being a student but am intimidated by 3 hr long seminars and thesis writing and massive amounts of reading… everyone keeps saying it’s gonna be very different from undergrad so okay, but how specifically? Is it the large amounts of reading? I already had insane amounts of reading (humanities degree hurrah) especially in my last two years but could you expound on your own experience and how you take notes/read quickly/summarize or just how to deal with first time grad students?

Oh, yeah for sure! A necessary disclaimer here is that I'm at a certain poncy English institution that is noted for being very bad at communicating with its students and very bad at treating its postgrad students like human beings, so a lot of these strategies I've picked up will be overkill for anyone who has the good sense to go somewhere not profoundly evil lol.

So I'll just preface this by saying that I am a very poor student in terms of doing what you're supposed to. I'm very bad at taking notes, I never learned how to do it properly, and I really, really struggle with reading dense literature. That said, I'm probably (hopefully?) going to get through this dumb degree just fine. Also — my programme is a research MPhil, not taught, so it's a teensy bit more airy-fairy in terms of structure. I had two classes in Michaelmas term, both were once a week for two hours each; two in Lent, one was two hours weekly, the other two hours biweekly; and no classes at all in Easter. I also have no exam component, I was/am assessed entirely on three essays (accounting for 30% of my overall mark) and my dissertation (the remaining 70%), which is, I think, a little different to how some other programmes are. I think even some of the other MPhils here are more strenuous than that, like Econ and Soc Hist is like 100% dissertation? Anyways, not super important, but knowing what you're getting marked on is important. I dedicated considerably less time than I did in undergrad to perfecting my coursework essays because they just don't hold as much weight now. The difference between a 68 and a 70 just wasn't worth the fuss for me, which helped keep me sane-ish.

The best advice anyone ever gave me was that, whereas an undergrad degree can kind of take over your life without it becoming a problem, you need to treat grad school like a job. That's not because it's more 'serious' or whatever, but because if you don't set a really strict schedule and keep to it, you'll burn yourself out and generally make your life miserable. Before I went back on my ADD meds at the end of Michaelmas term, I sat myself down at my desk and worked from 11sh to 1800ish every day. Now that I'm medicated, I do like 9:30-10ish to 1800-1900 (except for now that I'm crunching on my diss, where, because of my piss-poor time management skills I'm stuck doing, like, 9:30-22:30-23:00). If you do M-F 9-5, you'll be getting through an enormous amount of work and leaving yourself loads of time to still be a human being on the edges. That'll be the difference between becoming a postgrad zombie and a person who did postgrad. I am a postgrad zombie. You do not want to be like me.

The 'work' element of your days can really vary. It's not like I was actually consistently reading for all that time — my brain would have literally melted right out of my ears — but it was about setting the routine and the expectation of dedicating a certain, consistent and routinized period of time for focusing on the degree work every day. My attention span, even when I'm medicated, is garbage, so I would usually read for two or three hours, then either work on the more practical elements of essay planning, answer emails, or plot out the early stages of my research.

In the first term/semester/whatever, lots of people who are planning on going right into a PhD take the time to set up their applications and proposals. I fully intended on doing a PhD right after the MPhil, but the funding as an international student trying to deal with the pandemic proved super problematic, and I realised that the toll it was taking on my mental health was just so not worth it, so I've chosen to postpone a few years. You'll feel a big ol' amount of pressure to go into a PhD during your first time. Unless you're super committed to doing it, just try and tune it out as much as you can. There's absolutely nothing wrong with taking a year (or two, or three, or ten) out, especially given the insane conditions we're all operating under right now.

I'll be honest with you, I was a phenomenally lazy undergrad. It was only by the grace of god and being a hard-headed Marxist that I managed to pull out a first at the eleventh hour. So the difference between UG and PG has been quite stark for me. I've actually had to do the reading this year, not just because they're more specialised and relevant to my research or whatever, but because, unlike in UG, the people in the programme are here because they're genuinely interested (and not because it's an economic necessity) and they don't want to waste their time listening to people who haven't done the reading.

I am also a really bad reader. Maybe it's partially the ADD + dyslexia, but mostly it's because I just haven't practiced it and never put in the requisite effort to learn how to do it properly. My two big pointers here are learning how to skim, and learning how to prioritise your reading.

This OpenU primer on skimming is a bit condescending in its simplicity, but it gets the point across well. You're going to want to skim oh, say, 90% of the reading you're assigned. This is not me encouraging you to be lazy, it's me being honest. Not every word of every published article or book is worth reading. The vast majority of them aren't. That doesn't mean the things that those texts are arguing for aren't worth reading, it just means that every stupid rhetorical flourish included by bored academics hoping for job security and/or funding and/or awards isn't worth your precious and scarce time. Make sure you get the main thrust of each text, make sure you pull out and note down one or two case studies and move right the hell on. There will be some authors whose writing will be excellent, and who you will want to read all of. Everything else gets skimmed.

Prioritisation is the other big thing. You're going to have shitty weeks, you're probably going to have lots of them. First off, you're going to need to forgive yourself for those now — everybody has them, yes, even the people who graduated with distinctions and go on to get lovely £100,000 AHRC scholarships. Acknowledge that there will be horrible weeks, accept it now, and then strategise for how to get ahead of them. My personal strategy is to plan out what I'm trying to get out of each course I take, and then focus only on the readings that relate to that topic.

I took a course in Lent term that dealt with race and empire in Britain between 1607 and 1900; I'm a researcher of the Scottish far left from 1968-present, so the overlap wasn't significant. But I decided from the very first day of the course that I was there to get a better grasp about the racial theories of capitalism and the role of racial othering in Britain's subjugation of Ireland. Those things are helpful to me because white supremacist capitalism comes up hourly in my work on the far left, and because the relationship of the Scottish far left to Ireland is extremely important to its self definition. On weeks when I couldn't handle anything else, I just read the texts related to that. And it was fine, I did fine, I got my stupid 2:1 on the final essay, and I came out of it not too burnt out to work on my dissertation.

Here is where I encourage you to learn from my mistakes: get yourself a decent group of people who you can have in depth conversations about the material with. I was an asshole who decided I didn't need to do that with any posh C*mbr*dge twats, and I have now condemned myself to babbling incomprehensible nonsense at my partner because I don't have anyone on my course to work through my ideas with. These degrees are best experienced when they're experienced socially. In recent years (accelerated by the pandemic, ofc), universities have de-emphasised the social component of postgrad work, largely to do with stupid, long-winded stuff related to postgrad union organising etc. It's a real shame because postgrads end up feeling quite socially isolated, and because they're not having these fun and challenging conversations, their work actually suffers in the long term. This is, and I cannot stress this enough, the biggest departure from undergrad. Even the 'weak links' or whatever judgemental nonsense are there because they want to be. That is going to be your biggest asset. Talk, talk, talk. Listen, listen, listen. Offer to proofread people's papers so you get a sense of how people are thinking about things, what sort of style they're writing in, what sources they're referring to. Be a sponge and a copycat (but don't get done for plagiarism, copy like this.) Also: ask questions that seem dumb. For each of your classes, ask your tutors/lecturers who they think the most important names in their discipline are. It sounds silly, but it's really helpful to know the intellectual landscape you're dealing with, and it means you know whose work you can go running to if you get lost or tangled up during essay or dissertation writing!

You should also be really honest about everything — another piece of advice that I didn't follow and am now suffering for. The people on your courses and in your cohort are there for the same reasons as you, have more or less the same qualifications as you, and are probably going to have a lot of the same questions and insecurities as you. If you hear an unfamiliar term being used in a seminar, just speak up and ask about it, because there're going to be loads of other people wondering too. But you should also cultivate quite a transparent relationship with your supervisor. I was really cagey and guarded with mine because my hella imposter syndrome told me she was gonna throw my ass out of the programme if I admitted to my problems. Turns out no, she wouldn't, and that actually she's been a super good advocate for me. If you feel your motivation slipping or if you feel like you're facing challenges you could do with a little extra support on, go right to your supervisor. Not only is that what they're there to do, they've also done this exact experience before and are going to be way more sympathetic and aware of the realities of it than, say, the uni counselling service or whatever.

Yeah so I gotta circle back to the notes thing... I really do not take notes. It's my worst habit. Here's an example of the notes I took for my most recent meeting with my supervisor (revising a chapter draft).

No sane person would ever look at these and think this is a system worth replicating lol. But the reason they work for me is because I also record (with permission) absolutely everything. My mobile is like 90% audio recordings of meetings and seminars lol. So these notes aren't 'good' notes, but they're effective for recalling major points in the audio recording so I can listen to what was said when I need to.

Sorry none of this is remotely organised because it's like 2330 here and my brain is so soft and mushy. I'm literally just writing things as I remember them.

Right, so: theory is a big thing. Lots of people cheap out on this and it's to their own detriment. You say you're doing humanities, and tbh, most of the theory involved on the humanities side of the bridge is interdisciplinary anyways, so I'm just gonna give you some recommendations. The big thing is to read these things and try to apply them to what you're writing about. This sounds so fucking condescending but getting, like, one or two good theoretical frameworks in your papers will actually put you leaps and bounds beyond the students around you and really improve your research when the time comes. Also: don't read any of these recommendations without first watching, like an intro youtube video or listening to a podcast. The purists will tell you that's the wrong way to do it, but I am a lazy person and lazy people always find the efficient ways to do things, so I will tell the purists to go right to hell.

Check out these impenetrable motherfuckers (just one or two will take your work from great to excellent, so don't feel obliged to dig into them all):

Karl Marx and Fredrich Engels (I'm not just pushing my politics, but also, I totally am) — don't fucking read Capital unless you're committed to it. Oh my god don't put yourself through that unless you really have to. Try, like, the 18th Brumaire of Louis Napoleon for the fun quotes, and Engels on the family.

Frantz Fanon — Wretched of the Earth. Black Skin White Masks also good, slightly more impossible to read

Benedict Anderson — Imagined Communities. It's about nationalism, but you will be surprised at how applicable it is to... so many other topics

Judith Butler — she really sucks to read. I love her. But she sucks to read. If you do manage to read her though, your profs will love you because like 90% of the people who say they've read her are lying

Bourdieu — Distinction is good for a lot of things, but especially for introducing the idea of social and cultural capital. There's basically no humanities sub-discipline that can't run for miles on that alone.

Crenshaw — the genesis of intersectionality. But, like, actually read her, not the ingrates who came after her and defanged intersectionality into, like, rainbow bombs dropped over Gaza.

The other thing is that you should read for fun. My programme director was absolutely insistent that we all continue to read for pleasure while we did this degree, not just because it's good for destressing, but because keeping your cultural horizons open actually makes your writing better and more interesting. I literally read LOTR for the first time in, like February, and the difference in my writing and thinking from before and after is tangible, because not only did it give me something fun to think about when I was getting stressy, but it also opened up lots of fun avenues for thought that weren't there before. I read LOTR and wanted to find out more about English Catholics in WWI, and lo and behold something I read about it totally changed how I did my dissertation work. Or, like, a girl on my course who read the Odyssey over Christmas Break and then started asking loads of questions about the role of narrative creation in the archival material she was using. It was seriously such a good edict from our director.

Also, oh my god, if you do nothing else, please take this bit seriously: forgive yourself for the bad days. The pressure in postgrad is fucking unreal. Nobody, nobody is operating at 100% 100% of the time. If you aim for 60% for 80% of the time and only actually achieve 40% for 60% of the time, you will still be doing really fucking well. Don't beat yourself up unnecessarily. Don't make yourself feel bad because you're not churning out publishable material every single day. Some days you just need to lie on the couch, order takeout, and watch 12 hours of Jeopardy or whatever, and I promise you that that is a good and worthwhile thing to do. You don't learn and grow without rest, so forgive yourself for the moments and days of unplanned rest, and forgive yourself for when you don't score as highly as you want to, and forgive yourself when you say stupid things in class or don't do all of (or any of) the class reading.

Uhhhh I think I'm starting to lose the plot a bit now. Honestly, just ping me whatever questions you have and I'm happy to answer them. There's a chance I'll be slower to respond over the next few days because my dissertation is due in a week (holy fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) but I will definitely respond. And honestly, no question is too dumb lol. I wish I'd been able to ask someone about things like what citation management software is best or how to set up a desk for maximum efficiency or whatever, but I was a scaredy-cat about it and didn't. So yeah, ask away and I will totally answer.

#asks

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cleoselene · 4 years

Text

HELLO EVERYONE!

Saw this on another person's page so let me remind you: this is the week when poor people get their benefits.

IF YOU ARE NOT A POOR PERSON, TRY NOT TO DO ANY GROCERY SHOPPING THE FIRST WEEK OF APRIL PLEASE.

Food Stamps in my household come through on the 5th and the 6th, respectively. Social Security drops on the 3rd. This is pretty typically nationally. If you are not a person who relies on public assistance, DO NOT DO YOUR SHOPPING DURING THIS TIME PERIOD, I AM BEGGING YOU.

We get paid once per month. We cannot afford to hoard. We have very limited funds as it is and we are often very vulnerable people health wise (I know I am!) For some of us, grocery stores are not accommodating us because even if we're on chemo medicine for the rest of our bleedin' lives (I know I am!) I am 40 years old and thus do not qualify for the special shopping hours for people over 65.

But Cleo, you should get your groceries delivered!

Wow, that would be great! Except none of the groceries stores that deliver accept food stamps as payment!

Whatever you think of people on food stamps, know this: I'm a 40 year old woman who was in the middle of her MA/PhD program when I suddenly got diagnosed with progressive MS. This was not the plan I had for my life. I don't want to die in this pandemic, and I want to have enough food and supplies to get through it, but it's been really hard with very little money to go into empty grocery stores. Cleaning supplies have been challenging but everything has been challenging. April 1-April 9 is really the first chance most of us will have to get some real stocking up. We're not asking for more money. Just some space. And the same chance all of you who are more fortunate have had for weeks to build up a stockpile of food and supplies.

This applies to United States public assistance. Please reblog and signal post so people know. Thanks.

#coronavirus #poverty #signal boost

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decademia · 4 years

Text

some notes on my anxiety

This month - well, as almost half of the 2020 - was not that good. I’m worried almost all the time, I don’t want to wake up and do things - but I get more and more nightmares, and I just get too angry and irritated and isolated irreasonably.

The reasons are simple: I almost lost my job, I still have not secured myself a funding for PhD, I’m losing contact with my friends and my family. But I have to move forward and do not let this depression drown me deeper than it already has. After all, I still managed to achieve something during this crisis season.

So,

1. I’m trying to live now and there. I will panic about something when it will happen.

2. I have a small to-do lists, 3-5 items, and each day I’m trying to check out at least two things out of it.

3. I set reminders “to eat”, “to sleep”, and “to take meds”. Sometimes I add reminders like “talk with so/mom” or “go outside”. Sometimes I just bring chair on a balcony and this will count as go outside.

If something bothers me too much:

1) what do I know about the situation?

2) why this is a problem for me?

3) what I can do to make it less problematic / to decrease the possible future damage?

4) action!

#tw: anxious thoughts #tw: anxiety #personal #mine #decademia #stress

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historyofshipping · 4 years

Note

Whats your field of work if I may ask? Love your posts.

Thanks! And sure - I’m basically an interdisciplinary scholar but I mostly align with the fields of disability studies and history. I’m finishing up my PhD in the next year or so (well, now might be a bit longer because the pandemic and all that...)

My research primarily focuses on the history of eugenics in the United States - broadly defined. I write about a broad swath of topics related to eugenics and disability ranging from traditional histories (like the history of these two training schools I’m currently writing a book about) to the cultural fascination with ghosts and “haunted” hospitals/asylums. But I’m also a public scholar which means that I split my time between working in the academy and working on public interest/engagement projects. So for example I’m the project manager of a very large, federally funded history of forced sterilization project that produces everything from epidemiological academic publications to state level reparation legislation. But I’m also a data anlayst and researcher on a project related to youth trauma and academic disengagement in Detroit.

One nice thing about being an academic is that you can get your hands in a lot of different projects. One less nice thing is that I spend way too much of my life trying to secure funding for said projects lol.

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streamacademe · 5 years

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Week 106, Day 735.

My trip to Scotland was a success and I managed to collect some samples! But, I don’t want to talk about that this week. As my 3rd year has officially commenced, I would instead like to dedicate this post to lessons I’ve learned as a 2nd year PhD student and reiterate over my coping strategies. So, without further ado... 10 lessons I learned as a 2nd year PhD student:

Be prepared to face some dark times with your mental health - I won’t lie to you, it can, and probably will get pretty ugly. At times it will feel like the entire world is on your shoulders and you can’t breathe. I have had countless mental breakdowns this year, which usually involve bawling my eyes out and hyperventilating, before passing out from the exhaustion of it all, then coming around and crying again. Not fun. I have also suffered from insomnia, and, on the flip side, have had many days where I couldn’t get out of bed. I have included some coping strategies for set backs with mental health at the end of this post.

It will get hard and you’re going to want to quit - I’m sorry to be a bit of a downer, but it’s the truth. For me, giving up is not an option, but even I have had days where I’ve wanted to quit. It’s probably in the terms and conditions of a PhD to feel like this sometimes, but no one ever reads those. How you keep the love for your project glowing is for you to figure out. I always think of the finish line and of how far I’ve come. Or neck a glass of wine, that also helps...

Find a balance between feeling terrified and apathetic, and stupid and self-assured - PhD’s are terrifying, which I appreciate can be exhausting and can lead to feeling apathetic. However, apathy is both a blessing and a curse. It may make you feel calmer and more able, but it sure as hell won’t motivate you to try harder and do better. The same applies for feeling self-assured; yes, you’re clearly a clever bean for getting this far and you should acknowledge and celebrate that, but feeling stupid pushes us to seek knowledge, which is what science is all about.

Focus on genuine priorities - Procrastination/dedicating your time to non-essential tasks are your no.1 enemies. PhD’s are extremely unpredictable and you have to try and be ahead of the game or you risk falling too far behind. So make sure you know exactly what your priorities are and treat them as such.

To do lists and GANTT charts are life savers - On your worst days, refer to these to reorient yourself and stay on track. Make sure they’re always up to date, kept neat, and, most importantly, realistic.

Self-care is critical - And no, I don’t just mean bubble baths with scented candles every night, although those are definitely helpful. Self-care is looking after your mental, physical, and emotional well-being. Pushing yourself too hard can end really badly. Use me as an example, I pushed myself too hard physically and damaged my spine, which resulted in me taking a week off work. I won’t even mention the amount of mental health set backs I’ve had. So, do whatever it is that allows you to rest your bones, de-frazzles your mind, makes you happy, helps you feel better, and makes you feel like you can keep going.

You have to learn to say ‘no’ - This will probably be something you’re not used to or are comfortable doing, but I have learned from personal experience that this is literally the most important thing when it comes to looking after yourself and avoiding burnout.

Your personal growth is impossible to ignore - Who you are when you start your PhD is definitely not the person you will be at the end. You never stop learning and developing in a PhD, but like, at an accelerated rate. I find it fascinating looking back at my progress reports; something that may have felt impossible 6 months ago is now the norm.

Rely on your supervisors for help - THIS IS SO IMPORTANT. You DO NOT have to do everything alone. Ask questions, talk to them about your problems, seek their advice. And if they make you feel inferior, uncomfortable, stupid, or make themselves unavailable to you, contact your student support office/r, because a supervisor should NEVER do that. Furthermore, don’t be afraid to voice your opinions and stand your ground with your superiors, they are only human, just like you, and if you feel like they are misguiding or misunderstanding you, tell them. This is your PhD, not anybody else’s.

Remember that your PhD is your work not your life - As hard as that may be. That is all.

My ways of coping with the challenges of doing a PhD:

Spend time with animals and in nature - Honestly, if I had to choose just one bit of advice, it’d be this. Animals are the definition of joy, and being in nature always reminds me how beautiful the world can be, irrespective of how dark and rubbish mine may feel at times.

Sleep - Getting enough sleep makes my anxiety more manageable, my mood better, and means I have more energy to deal with what life has to throw at me. Don’t listen to how much sleep you “should” have, instead listen to your body and work with it. Personally, I aim for at least 8 hours a night.

Minimalism - I have mentioned minimalism many times on my blog. The benefits of this lifestyle are countless. With respect to my PhD, living with less allows me to have more room to breathe and think. It also means I spend more time on experiences instead of material things. Minimalism also allows me to live intentionally and aligns with my personal values. This in return means that I am more at peace with the life I lead outside of my PhD.

Save money - Not only do savings mean a sense of security, but having money set aside can be really helpful if you are in need of a getaway or simply want to treat yourself without getting into debt. Furthermore, as there is no guarantee of a job straight after your PhD, or if your funding runs out before you finish, it is essential to have some savings as a safety net to fall on if need be.

Read - I use books as a form of escape from reality, typically reading either before bed or in the morning before work. It helps take my mind off the stresses that clutter my brain.

Exercise, eat healthy, and drink plenty of water - I know you’ve heard it all before, but here it is again. It works.

Red Bull (as a last resort) - There are many things in life that have impacted my ability to focus this year, including long drives, bad news, sleepless nights, and mental health issues. However, life doesn’t stop when you want to and so when I’m really struggling I turn to Red Bull for help, and it really does help me. (I don’t drink coffee and tea doesn’t cut it). I always ensure not to drink more than one can a day or drink alcohol within the same 24 hours that I’ve drank Red Bull in.

How I try to cope with mental health set backs: Disclaimer: ‘Try’ is a critical word here as it is not always easy or straightforward to do the below, and, sadly, sometimes none of these suggestions work.

Talk about it - I HATE talking about my mental health issues to people as I don’t want to burden my friends, upset my family, or appear weak at work. However, there are times where I’ve had to, and it’s helped. I mainly talk to my boyfriend about it, but should probably see a therapist. Hey ho, small steps. If you really can’t talk about it, write about it, either publicly or privately.

Perspective - I have been watching a show called ‘New Amsterdam’ recently, which has really helped me see how insignificant some of my problems are. That’s not to say you’re not allowed to feel like crap just because you’re not having open heart surgery, of course you are, but trying to do things that change your perspective can be very helpful in coming out of a mental health episode. Geddit?

Give back - There is always someone having a worse time than you and nothing helps to snap you out of your pity party like lending a helping hand. Whether it’s volunteering at a homeless shelter, running a marathon for charity, or simply donating what you can to a cause you believe in. Give back.

Headspace - I’m sure you’ve heard of this app/website, if not, here it is. Personally, I don’t like Andy Puddicombes voice, or listening to a human in general, so I don’t use the platform for meditation, but they do have a great range of sleepcasts and sounds, which I use to combat my insomnia.

Calming medication (natural) - I use an essential oil aromatherapy roller ball to help me overcome an anxious episode or get me off to sleep. Personally, I use Tisserand for these. I also use Rescue Remedy drops for the same reason (these contain alcohol so aren’t for everyone).

Get the F off of social media for a while - Honestly, your phone isn’t an essential organ, take a break from it, see what wonders it can do for you.

Cut out toxic/negative people - Fill your life with wholesome people, get rid of anyone that makes your recovery impossible, or your life difficult. Be as harsh as you need to be, cry about it, drink about it, but do it, and don’t go back. Here’s a great song to support you through this.

That is all folks. It took me all day to write this, so I hope it’s at least somewhat helpful. ❤ Peace.

Photo: A photo of a sunset that made me feel better after an especially difficult day. Source: My camera.

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popscenery · 4 years

Audio

Passion Pit, »Take a Walk«

by Jessica Doyle

In the summer of 2010, when I took a leave of absence from my PhD program, my dissertation was a helpless non-thing without a subject. In December 2018, I officially got my PhD, because my dissertation was done: written, revised, defended, revised again, approved, copied, formatted, distributed, carefully archived, accepted as an actual work of scholarship. It is arguably my most important professional accomplishment of the decade, and also arguably entirely inconsequential. The claim that 90 percent of academic papers go uncited is mostly untrue, but it is true for my dissertation, and I have the gaping void of a Google Scholar search return to prove it.

Trust me: as bitter and self-deprecating post-graduate students might be about their research (see previous paragraph), none of us start out planning to write something inconsequential. Certainly the subject of my dissertation was not inconsequential at all. “Take a Walk” is not my favorite song of the past decade, but it is the song that kept reminding me that the topic was worth writing about.

My dissertation examined what makes starting and maintaining a business easier or harder for Latino entrepreneurs in different American cities. Take Miami as an example, where 47% of all businesses are Latino-owned. That’s much higher than the national average (12 percent) and higher than the percentage in other cities with large Latino populations: New York, Los Angeles, Houston. So what’s so special about Miami? Is it because the Cuban population that arrived in the 1960s were often landowners or merchants fleeing Castro, and made wealth-building a priority in their new city? Is it the geographic proximity to Latin America and the Caribbean? Is starting a business in Miami easier than elsewhere? Is it something about Miami’s economy in general, or Florida’s? Finally (and more to the point), if policy-makers in another city wanted to put in policies that would help local Latino entrepreneurs flourish, what would Miami’s example offer as guidance?

To make a 295-page story short: it is much easier to turn immigrants into successful business owners if they come to the country with business experience and/or capital already at hand; and if the local immigrant population doesn’t start with those advantages, then policy-makers should focus on providing business education and access to financing, especially the latter. Latino immigrants in the United States who want to start businesses are more likely than native-born white entrepreneurs to use their own cash (which takes a while to accumulate), credit cards (which charge higher interest rates than do bank loans), or loans from family or friends (which means that loved ones, rather than banks with larger cushions, bear the risks). I’d say read the whole dissertation, but in all frankness you’d be better off checking out the research being published by the Stanford Latino Entrepreneurship Initiative, including this report. (It’s more concise and their data is more robust than mine was.)

This all assumes, of course, that you want to encourage Latinos, or other immigrants, or anyone at all, to start their own business. A lot of us--including me; including Michael Angelakos, the artist behind Passion Pit--have immigrant entrepreneurs in our family lineage. In interviews to promote the album Gossamer, Angelakos described “Take a Walk,” the lead single, as about different members of his family. The first verse’s portrait is a classic rags-to-riches, grateful-to-be-in-America immigrant story: I love this country dearly / I can feel the ladder clearly. But in the second verse, the story shifts to a new narrator, and so does the tone: I watch my little children / Play some board game in the kitchen / And I sit and pray they never feel my strife. The final narrator is eventually undone...

I think I borrowed just too much We had taxes, we had bills We had a lifestyle to front

...yet still insists on his participation in the American dream:

Tomorrow you'll cook dinner For the neighbors and their kids We can rip apart those socialists And all their damn taxes You see, I am no criminal I'm down on both bad knees I'm just too much a coward To admit when I'm in need

Apparently at one point a Fox News reporter failed to hear the irony, and asked Angelakos if the song was anti-socialist. But Angelakos told MTV News, “It's about very specific family members, the male hierarchy, and how the men in my family have always dealt with money.... All these men were very conservative; socially very liberal but for some reason, they all came here for capitalism, and they all ended up kind of being prey to capitalism.” He told a different interviewer, “These are all true stories; this is my grandfather and so on.”

Angelakos’s ambivalence is understandable. (Several of the pieces that greeted “Take a Walk” identified it as a direct reponse to the 2008 financial crisis, an interpretation he rejected.) The idea that anyone can come to the United States, start a business, and work their way to financial security and political freedom is an old one--the history of immigrants employing at higher rates than native-born Americans goes as far back as the Census Bureau has been keeping track of such things. But even for the successful it has its costs. The narrators of “Take a Walk” are estranged from their families, anxious about their ability to keep wealth. The theme of risk runs through the song. No one worries about getting fired; they have market investments, business partners, endless complaints about taxes (as one might if one has to pay both ends of the Social Security and Medicare taxes single-handedly.) The risk allows the narrators to make comfortable lives for themselves and their family, and yet Angelakos isn’t convinced, looking back, that they were better off.

Historically, if you were running for any sort of higher political office in the United States and were from a major party, you made sure to say nice things about small businesses and entrepreneurship, especially the immigrant kind. To some degree this is still true: Elizabeth Warren’s campaign platform includes a Small Business Equity Fund that would give grants to minority entrepreneurs. That said, I’m not sure the current dominant political energy on either the American left or right favors small businesses, who tend to hate tariffs. If you read the Green New Deal resolution, though it calls for a more equitable distribution of available financing to such smaller-scale lenders as community banks and credit unions, a lot of what it wants it can only get at a certain scale. It’s easier for a larger company to retool its supply chains to lower environmental costs than it is for ten small businesses to do the same. It’s easier for a firm with a thousand employees to absorb the cost of any one employee needing a higher wage to make rent, or a longer maternity leave, or extended absences due to illness, than it is for a firm with five.

And Music Tumblr in particular can be forgiven for not thinking highly of entrepreneurship. Most creative people--artists, musicians, writers--end up as entrepreneurs simply because decent-paying employment in those fields has never been easy to find. (In 2017, Angelakos spoke of dealing with venture capitalists and deciding to run his mental-health-focused initiative, Wishart, as a combination of for-profit and non-profit.) But no loan officer with a nickel’s worth of sense would approve a loan to enter a market so saturated that marginal revenue is typically zero or close enough, or where thousands if not millions of people seem thoroughly committed to proving themselves, in Samuel Johnson’s eyes, blockheads. Upon hearing, “You can do what you love, but the market won’t reward you,” a lot of people will reply, “To hell with markets, then.”

It all comes down to how you feel about risk. For a long time the dominant American thinking was that higher risk was the price entrepreneurs paid to have the chance to succeed on their own terms. (There’s an ongoing debate in the immigrant-entrepreneurship academic literature about whether any one particular group of entrepreneurs is “pushed” into entrepreneurship--as in, they only start businesses as the best of a bad set of money-making options--or “pulled,” starting businesses because they want to.) More recently has emerged the critique that not all experiences of risk are created equal, and that in championing immigrant or minority entrepreneurship we offload risk onto those people with smaller financial or even emotional cushions. The heightened experience of risk, and its attendant anxiety and feeling of constant scarcity, may be what Angelakos meant when he described his relatives as “kind of being prey to capitalism.”

I personally agree with that critique, and would throw in that the general perception of Latino immigrants as not-entrepreneurial denies them a road to acceptance (or bourgeois respectability, if you prefer) that their Swedish, German, Jewish, Italian, and more recently Korean predecessors have been able to walk. That was why I wanted to write about Latino entrepreneurship in the first place, and why I ended up writing about North Carolina’s Latino Community Credit Union and associated initiatives as a promising case study. But I would caution against crossing the line from wanting to reduce risk for vulnerable minorities to regarding asking them to bear any kind of risk as imperialist and offensive. Risk can’t be eliminated altogether, and there are costs to scaling risk to higher levels of human activity and trying to diffuse it. A small business committed to a bad idea does a lot less damage than a government policy committed to a bad idea, even if the latter is more equitable in the range and number of people it effects.

Writing a dissertation is a humbling process. I’ve never written and recorded a song, but I imagine that process humbles too. (When “Take a Walk” came out Angelakos was not shy about disliking it, though he seems to have grown fonder of it as time goes on: “I like that it’s so uncharacteristic of me,” he said in 2017.) You work and work and work, all the while knowing you have no control over how your audience will hear your message, or if there will even be an audience. You can never be sure that you read enough, or chose the right method of analysis, or treated your subjects with sufficient respect. You’ll never know if you’re actually on the side of the angels. If the “angels” are metaphorical--if you don’t actually believe in a god, or God, whose love is greater than your human tendency to error and self-deception and treachery--then the risk is even higher. And yet, without that risk, how would you ever be able to say anything worth saying?

#songs of the decade #passion pit #longreads #music writing

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physiologicdeadspace · 4 years

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Are you worried your college will not be able to keep you on after your studies because they will likely take a massive hit through loss of international student income? Basically they won't have jobs for people.

No, that’s not really a concern. I’m in no way guaranteed a job in the university after I finish my PhD, but I want to do post-doctoral research - and that isn’t really how funding for post-doctoral positions work, at least not in my university/school/or I guess research area more generally.

You instead apply for PDRA positions that are attached to a project that has already been awarded funding and allocated a proportion of that money in their initial grant application to fund a PDRA. While the money is awarded to the school/university, it can only be used to fund what has been agreed to in the grant conditions. So they can’t take money from a big research funding body and not conduct the research because the university is short money to fund education.

Now post-doctoral positions are highly competitive and are short term contracts, but I’m desperate to keep doing research so I’d rather opt for continuing this sort of work than look for a more secure job.

So I am wondering how it will turn out and whether I’ll be able to continue this kind of work. But honestly I’m just trying to relish that last bit of my PhD, it’s been a dream, even if I don’t get a post-doc position out the gate I feel incredibly lucky and grateful that I got to do this in the first place.

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bettsfic · 5 years

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very happy bfsn!!

i have so much good news! first and most importantly, i’m going to be able to watch 603 LIVE tonight!

second, everything is falling into place! some of you may know that my life has been in ridiculous upheaval the past few months and Bad Things have been happening, namely that i had no prospects of money BUT THAT HAS CHANGED.

so what happened was, i applied late to a PhD program in mississippi i seemed to really jive with, and they were super impressed with my application and offered me acceptance and funding within the week. i was STOKED about this but had learned the day before that my house, which i am trying to sell, needs far more work than i initially thought, and it may take a long long time to sell, upwards three or more months. so, the likelihood i would be able to sell the house and move to mississippi and live off the stipend easily is very slim. moreover, my mom is getting divorced and will probably need a lawyer, and while she is amazing and i love her and she would support me no matter what i decide, i also know she will throw money at me she doesn’t even have and sink herself into debt to help me succeed, and i don’t want to put her in that position. she’s already helping so much, and going through so much, i want to be able to pay for all the things i need to pay for.

meanwhile, i’ve been interviewing for a position with the girl scouts as a community development manager (see interview outfit above). i had to go through three interviews (one of which was a mock presentation, which was SO DIFFICULT), but the hiring team was super impressed with me and offered me the job just today, one (1) day later.

so i talked to mississippi and they said that if i deferred my acceptance, i would have to reapply for funding, but that i had a “very high chance” of securing it next year, or even next semester, because they are so eager to have me (and i am so eager to go). but practicality dictates that i cannot move states on the fumes i’m living on, nor pay for renovations, mortgage, moving expenses, and rent all at the same time. not without putting my mom in financial jeopardy anyway (and myself, but i am already in financial jeopardy).

the plan is to work with the girl scouts for a year (which i feel bad about but there’s no going around it really) and then move to mississippi to do my phd! and over the next year i can get my medical stuff dealt with, and buy some things i’ve been desperately needing (a new phone and laptop and clothes), and save up some money, and pay off my car and student loans, and find an agent so i can get my novel sold.

also i moved this weekend (which went very smoothly!!) and am already unpacked in my new room at my grandma’s house, and my mom is living here with us too for a bit, so i’ve been cooking and going to bed on time and waking up early, and being not-lonely for the first time in years.

the bad news is, the job is notorious for being 40+ hours and having a poor work/life balance, so i will not have much time for writing fanfic, if all my free time is spent revising Baby and finding an agent. also i won’t be able to teach, which is very sad, but it’s only for a year, and anyway, i’ll get a lot of good writing inspiration while driving through small-town ohio recruiting girl scouts. my first day is the 27th! which gives me two weeks to get my house cleared out.

TLDR THINGS ARE FINALLY LOOKING UP

tagging @jasperjoordan @bilexualclarke @thehundredtimesobsessed @electricalice @anilengka @insideimfeelinpurrdy @star-sky-earth @wardasmo @bisexualbellamyblake @thatworldinverted @jellamyjake @inspiralrose @ninazenikvibes @charmanderdiyoza @tracylorde @bellamyblakesass @pawprinterfanfic @sly2o @easilydistractedbyfanfic @yyyughh @catastrophic-chloe @the-most-beautiful-broom @bellofthesky @octannibal-blake @youleftme-clarke @commanderclarke @bellamynochillblake @johnmurphysass @carrieeve @asroarke @ellaalyse @eyessharpweaponshot @thelittlefanpire @paintingbellarke @that-this-will-do @bloodreina @charmanderdiyoza @catja @keiraknighted @ghostmontygreen

#bfsn

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 5 years

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Spiderio? o.o

oh, as in spider-man/mysterio? ok, here goes:

DISCLAIMER: both peter and Quentin beck are adults in this au, from the first time they meet. they have a complicated relationship here, but nothing that is romantic/sexual. while this mysterio is definitely the one from the mcu, this fic's peter takes inspiration from his ps4 incarnation.

quentin beck doesn’t really notice the frazzled, bespectacled intern working on his Intuitive Projection Device (working title) team for a long time. for one thing, there are a lot of frazzled, bespectacled college students running around in his lab looking to snazz up their resumes and hopefully a job at stark industries, and for another, peter parker never really stands out. oh, sure, he’s smart–you didn’t study bio-engineering on a scholarship in empire state and land a spot on beck’s team without having some level of intelligence–but for the most part, he does what he’s told to without fuss and doesn’t really speak up much during team meetings. which, whatever. beck’s looking for people with ideas and bombast and, well, presence, so when parker’s internship ends, he’s off on his merry way. end of story.

except–

on the eve of his project’s big launch, tony stark takes over. says he’s going to do the honours. which–all right. beck was hoping to be a little more present while his life’s work was unveiled, but he knew what he was getting into by agreeing to work under someone like tony stark. he hands everything he has over to his boss.

tony renames his blood, sweat and tears Binary Augmented Retro-Framing device, or BARF, to an audience full of (ignorant, fucking ignorant!) laughing college students. uses it as a gimmicky side-show while unveiling some other completely different initiative, while beck stands backstage, staring, slack-jawed. there is not a single mention of the years it took to put together even a prototype of the thing, what it means to have a technology so intuitive that it’s the new cutting edge in biotech, the endless legal and ethical loopholes that beck had to circumvent to test the thing, the endless possibilities that it opens–

stark’s taken it all away. the project that consumed the last ten years of his life–gone. signed away to a fucking megalomaniac in a metal suit.

beck goes back to his empty apartment that night, numb, opens his liquor cabinet and goes to town. the next morning, drunk and blind with fury, he storms up to tony stark’s office to give him a piece of his mind. of course, he doesn’t actually make it anywhere near tony’s office; he’s thrown out on his ass by security before he can make it past the lobby. he’s fired by email later that day; told that they will press charges if he tries anything like he did that day again.

beck doesn’t explode, contrary to stark’s claims of ‘instability’. he’s not giving tony the satisfaction of flaming out and fading away into obscurity. after all, he was the brains of the operation, and stark can’t take that away from him. he can focus on clowning around in that suit of his all he wants; beck’s going to come up with stuff that’ll blow his company fucking out of the water. all he needs is patience, and time, and–

a team.

he sends emails to everyone from his old team. only a few reply–and even they are reluctant to risk their jobs at stark industries to work with him. only one person replies positively and agrees to meet him.

the next day, quentin is sitting across from a nervous peter parker at a mcdonalds and he thinks: this is where it all begins.

peter parker is… weird.

when he’s actually present, oh, he’s a fucking revelation: the kid has a knack for making something out of virtually nothing; he’s worked wonders on the few pieces of old tech that beck was able to wrangle by calling in favours with old acquaintances. he rambles and makes silly jokes, but there’s always something fresh and insightful to what he says. it’s like his mind is not just a few steps ahead of everybody else, but fucking doing somersaults on the ceiling. more than anything else, he believes: in the potential of beck’s work, the ways it could revolutionise any number of fields, how it could help people. he’s all beck could ever ask for in an assistant, in a partner, and he can scarcely believe this is the same man as that unassuming intern who worked for him so many years ago.

the kicker, though, is that peter parker isn’t often… present. he often comes in late or cancels altogether, citing one emergency or the other. there are several mornings when he stumbles in, utterly exhausted, hands closed around a jumbo-sized coffee like it’s his lifeline. for a long while, beck is willing to let it go: after all, peter’s pursuing his phd, working in another lab that actually pays him, and looking after his aunt. besides, he’s a twenty-something young man in new york city who’s handsome in a charming, dorkish sort of way–of course he’s going to have a social life.

still… it’s worrying. he’s not sure he wants to sit peter down and talk about it (that would be mortifying for both of them, beck thinks); he settles for working even harder to put a couple of projects together so that he can apply for funding and actually pay the kid like he deserves. in the meantime, he makes sure to buy peter a meal whenever he can, and if his insides wobble a little whenever peter beams at offers of a pizza night, beck will have you know that it means nothing, okay?

when beck discovers that peter’s spider-man, it’s an accident.

he goes to the lab in the middle of the night to pick up his phone that he’d forgotten; peter cancelled on him again that day, and beck’s long, long rope is starting to fray. when he turns to leave, he hears a muffled thump. across the dark, cavernous room, spider-man–spider-man!–climbs through an open window and collapses in an ungraceful heap on the floor. beck stands stock-still as the hero groans and tugs at his mask–to reveal peter parker’s face, stark and pale in the moonlight spilling through the window.

for a long, seemingly interminable moment, beck holds his breath.

in that moment, a lot of things start making sense.

spider-man–peter parker!–reaches one hand out, makes some sort of gesture, and a web shoots out of his wrist, snags a water bottle and brings it to his hand. peter tips his head back and chugs. he’s still not gotten up from the floor; there are rips in his suit, and beck thinks he can see blood–

no. no. he doesn’t want to see anymore. it feels weirdly intimate, and beck isn’t sure if he ever knew the first thing about peter parker after all. he closes his eyes, turns, and slips away quietly.

quentin beck doesn’t go back to his lab for two days, doesn’t answer calls or emails. peter is particularly persistent, even offering to visit his apartment, but beck puts that off with a terse, ‘no. i’m fine. call you later.’ he spends most of those two days staggering with the sheer magnitude of the secret that he’s just discovered–no wonder the asshole was always late! he was too busy swinging from buildings and taking down costumed supervillains!–and the betrayal, which overcomes him in waves. all the while beck was looking fondly on peter, even considering him a protege, he was doing something that beck had repeatedly spoken of with profound contempt. and peter even agreed with him several times! with a straight face! he’s nothing but a two-timing, manipulative sociopath, just like stark–

–oh dear god.

oh no no no no no.

he’s seen spider-man help out stark and the avengers a few times, hasn’t he? he’s never been announced as an official avenger, but these costumed freaks all flock together often, yeah? was peter parker assigned to spy on beck? did stark put him up to it? he must’ve; stark probably didn’t like that beck was smarter, better, capable of so much more–and that he was all of this without having been handed an entire multi-million dollar company on a silver platter.

and yet–

all of peter’s wide-eyed sincerity, his belief, his passion–beck can’t have imagined all of that, right? there has to be at least a part of him that beck can–can still love–

god-fucking-dammit.

fine. if he can’t ever get away from these costumed weirdos, then he’s just going to do what he’s always done: work with what he’s got.

the next time beck sees peter, it’s three weeks later and he says, “i know you’re spider-man.”

to peter’s credit, he looks surprised only for a fraction of a second; if beck wasn’t looking for it (if beck didn’t know peter as well as he did) he would’ve never noticed.

peter laughs. “fine,” he says. “sure, and you’re iron man.”

beck hasn’t the time for games. “i saw you in costume, peter. i won’t lie and tell you that i wasn’t hurt that you’d hide that from me, but rest assured that i will keep your secret.”

peter’s face freezes in a half-smile, mouth slightly open, as if he’s just lined up his next joke to dismiss what beck said. suddenly, his smile disappears and he… deflates. “sorry,” he says, his gaze shifting to the ground. “i didn’t mean–it’s just–i try so hard to keep my day job and my… other job separate, you know? and i don’t want to put the people i love in even more danger than they already face by just living in a world where there’s an alien invasion every other week, so, i just. you know.”

beck firmly dismisses the way his heart flutters at people i love and says, “i know. and honestly? given what the world’s like these days? it’s great you’re out there doing what you do.”

peter gives him a tentative smile. “dr. beck, you know, i’m so glad you’re taking this so well–i came so close to telling you so many times because i felt so bad making up excuses for missing out on such exciting work, and–”

“but peter, you’re fired.”

“–if i’d known that–wait.” peter blinks once, deliberately. it’s almost comical. “what?”

“i said you’re fired, peter,” beck tells him pleasantly. “i appreciate everything you’ve done tremendously–and rest assured that you will get credit where credit is due–but going forward… this just won’t work out, pete.”

“what? no, no, no, wait.” peter leans forward. “i’ve–we’ve made it work so far, right? i’ll find time–i’ll cut back on… other things. dr. beck,” and now he has the audacity to grab beck’s hands, and beck thinks he’s going to rip apart at the seams from all the emotion that’s coursing through him right now, “what you’re doing is inspiring. it’s going to help so many people. please let me be a part of it.”

“you’re already helping people.” you’ve helped enough.

“dr. beck, ple–”

“come on now, peter, spider-man doesn’t beg!” beck looks away from peter’s pleading, desperate eyes. he needs to remember that these superhero types always love to put on a show. whether that’s stark, or pe–spider-man. “this doesn’t mean the end of our friendship, peter. i’ll see you around.”

he walks away before peter can say another word.

beck collects more of stark industries’ rejects and malcontents for his team, but this time his pitch is different: if the world has moved on, if the only way to be important and beloved and heard is to fly around with a cape and lasers shooting out of your hands, then that is exactly what he’s fucking going to do. he focusses more on illusion technology, fashioning spectacles that will only ever be limited by his own imagination. it’s slow, arduous work, but–ironically–peter has already done most of the ground work, and it’s a matter of building from there.

peter tries calling him for the first few weeks after their last meeting; beck never answers. it takes longer than beck thought it would for him to stop trying. kid was always tenacious as hell.

then ultron happens. the u.n. blows up. then the sokovia accords.

the avengers split up, going for each other’s throats: iron man on one side, captain america on the other. beck’s a little relieved to see that spider-man isn’t on either side.

the whole thing ends up going to hell, and a complete PR disaster for stark and co. there’s far less superhero activity after that, and stark’s operations shrink considerably–which honestly just means beck has more disgruntled, brilliant ex-employees to recruit to his cause. even spider-man goes completely underground.

(peter parker, though, is teaching at empire state. so beck is not too worried. yet.)

it’s the perfect time to debut mysterio.

it always ends on a bridge, in the eye of a firestorm.

peter’s grip is inhumanly strong; beck can feel the bones in his wrist grind and pop. he drops the gun he was pointing at peter’s head and tries to twist away.

“we could’ve accomplished so much together.” peter looks angry, but he sounds… mournful.

beck tastes blood at the back of his throat. “we still can,” he gasps. “it’s not too late.”

peter doesn’t say no, and he clings to that even as darkness consumes him and he falls.

( send me an au and i will give you 5+ headcanons about it! )

#mcu #spiderman #my fic #far from home spoilers #peter parker #quentin beck #mysterio #spn-samifer #i don't know how this turned into a 2k+ fic #but i just couldn't stop

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imperium-romanum · 5 years

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Welcome to 2019, everyone!

I spent the last week and a half at my family’s shack, enjoying the company of close family and friends, and Kali the #ClassicsCat, of course! I’m excited about the fresh start the New Year brings. 2018 was a difficult year for me personally. I haven’t talked about it on the blog because I prefer to focus on positives but as I prepare to face this New Year head on, I would like to reflect on some of the major hurdles that I had to overcome in 2018.

In January, my partner and I were forced to get a restraint order against my neighbour of six and a half years who became aggressive and threatening due to severe (suspected) drug-induced paranoia. We moved in with my parents while we went through the process to have the temporary restraint order confirmed. The restraint order was confirmed in February – a win – but we were not able to return to our unit. The local council, after 11 years of my parents owning the property, decided that our unit was not a legal dwelling. Bureaucracy at its finest.

During March and April, we fought the council for an explanation and started to try and resolve the problem. It seemed we were much more willing to work with them than they were to work with us, though. Shortly before the Easter break commenced my parents received a threatening letter from the council claiming that we were still living in the unit and that we would be fined approximately $20,000 AUD for the violation. This claim was blatantly false, but we still had to go through the process of overturning the impending fine.

We continued to try and solve the problem with our unit in May, but this was soon put on the back-burner when our cat, Kali, developed ketoacidosis due to undiagnosed diabetes. Within the space of 12 hours, she went from being her bright happy self to knocking on death’s door. She spent four days in constant care. I am forever grateful to my parents who paid for her care, which quickly tallied in the thousands. Without their compassion and love for her, we would have been forced to put her to sleep. I recieved many well-wishes during this time from followers, and I am thankful for the support and kindess you showed.

Left: Kali at AHVEC, weighing just 2.7kg. Right: Kali snuggling me and my fiance at a much healthier 4kg.

Kali's struggles weren't over, in June. She again visited the emergency vet hospital after getting into the bin, pulling out a wedged in chicken container, and eating the silicone absorbent pad while we were out for a half-hour at most. We still don’t know how she managed to do it! Thankfully it wasn’t serious in the end; she brought it all back up and suffered no consequences apart from all the dirty looks that my family gave her because of the panic she caused.

After a couple relatively quiet months, my fiancé’s family dog, Jess, also developed diabetes. She was not as lucky as Kali, however, and did not respond to treatment. Within weeks she went completely blind, among other problems. At only 9 years old, my fiancé’s parents were forced to make the difficult decision to put her to sleep. While I do not regret being there for them, it was the first time I had to deal with death in such a confronting way and it was a terrible reminder of how lucky Kali was to survive.

I hit perhaps my lowest ever point mental health-wise around this time. Although the semester was very rewarding, after such an intense period of balancing my personal life and commitments, PhD research, studying a language, and tutoring both academically and privately, I felt emotionally and mentally used up. The best way to describe how I functioned during this period is that I was on auto-pilot.

Although 2018 was undeniably the most difficult year of my almost 26 years of life, there were plenty of positives too. In January I completed my Confirmation of Candidature, which involved presenting a 20-minute paper on my research topic. Then, in February, I was very lucky to upgrade my car by 12 years. Again, I am very grateful to my parents and very aware of how fortunate I am that they are willing and able to assist me financially, with work flexible enough to fit in with a PhD being so hard to come by.

I entered my second year of candidature in late February. It was a reasonably uneventful couple of months until, over two days, I gave two more presentations in May – one at Pint of History titled ‘Catastrophic Crassus: Parthia, #EpicFails, and the Death of Rome’s Richest Man’ and one at the Humanities Showcase at my university, titled ‘It Speaks! The Voice of the Door in the Roman Paraclausithyron’.

I also secured a casual job at UConnect, UTAS’s student services. I had four weeks of nearly full-time work at the start of both semesters which allowed me to save enough money to get me through each semester.

In June, Kali’s glucose curve stabilised, much to ours and the vet’s relief; she has settled into diabetes life well ever since.

July was a month of firsts. I went to New Zealand for the first time and attended my first conference, Amphorae XII. At Amphorae XII, I presented my first conference paper, ‘Pompey’s Eastern Settlements: Considerations and Consequences’. I met some wonderful people, including some mutual followers! I also visited some of the sights, including the Auckland War Memorial Museum, Auckland Art Gallery, Hobbiton, and Hamilton Gardens.

When I returned from New Zealand, I enjoyed another four-week stint working for UConnect and, through the semester, I was also lucky to tutor the first years for HTC104: Introduction to Ancient Rome. This was my first time tutoring in an official capacity and I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

When September came around, I received the good news that my abstract had been accepted for ASCS40. My fiancé and I were also finally able to move out of my parents’ house and back into a place of our own. The situation with our unit is still up in the air, unfortunately, but it is moving slowly forward. Still, it’s important to appreciate the small milestones, so to celebrate our return to relative independence we established a small succulent garden in the back area and grew far too many tomato plants.

In November, I reached a major milestone in my PhD journey by completing the necessary coursework element (what UTAS calls a Graduate Certificate in Research) of my degree. As a result, I now have the equivalent of a minor in Latin on top of the Certificate itself. Imperium Romanum also reached its first anniversary!

Finally, in December, my fiancé and I spent many weekends at the family shack enjoying the blessedly warm weather that usually skips Tasmania. Over the Christmas-New Year break, I went to the beach a record three days in a row. Sometimes, you just need to enjoy the simple things.

And so I must turn my attention to 2019. This, like the years before, will be another big one. I’m venturing into the third year of my PhD candidature in late February and, with the GCR finished, I’m looking forward to devoting my time to research. I’ll be attending not one but (hopefully) two conferences this year. The first is ASCS40, 4 to 7 February, at the University of New England in Armidale. It’s now only 33 days away – my funding was approved in December and I’ve booked my flights, accommodation, and hire car. As with Amphorae XII, I’ll be live tweeting the conference and blogging about my adventures in Armidale, which I have not visited before. I’m also hoping to attend Roman Memory: Pacific Rim Roman Literature Seminar 33 in July at the University of Newcastle – I’ll keep you posted on that one.

To finish up, I have a few New Year’s Goals that I would like to share with you. I won’t call them resolutions as I find that term comes with a lot of negative connotations; I’m not solving problems nor do I need to ‘better’ myself. Instead, I want to focus on enjoying all aspects of my life, from the private sphere to the academic.

1. Read more fiction.

I love reading, yet, over the last few years, I’ve noticed that I do very little reading simply for the pleasure of it. Because the last six years of my life have been so academically focused – having gone straight from a Bachelor to Honours to a PhD – I’ve spent so much time reading for university subjects and research that the thought of doing more reading, even fiction, is exhausting. I could probably count the number of new books I’ve read (that haven’t been set for a class) on my fingers. I’ve set myself the goal of reading two to three new fiction books every month – if I can read more, great!

2. Do more activities.

Last year, I went on a fantastic one-day road trip with two friends to Freycinet National Park on Tasmania’s east coast. Then, through December, I enjoyed many more small adventures with my fiancé. Even though I’ve never been particularly fit, I’ve always enjoyed the outdoors. Now that I’m equipped with some top quality hiking boots, I want to get out more – do more bushwalking, walk more rugged and rocky coastlines, and explore more of Tasmania’s wilderness.

I also want to spend less time playing computer games (much as I enjoy them), and more time making things. I’m no artist, but I still love to create things. I’m going to start off by making a pom pom rug in my Harry Potter house colours – Ravenclaw – to go under my desk. I won’t be posting my creations of Imperium Romanum, but I will be posting about them on Instagram and Twitter for those who are interested.

3. Participate in a ‘100 Days of Productivity’ challenge.

While I have a reputation for being a productive student with good grades, the truth is that I am a chronic procrastinator who happens to be very good at whipping up strong assignments last minute. Even outside of the academic sphere, I’m somewhat of a procrastinator, thanks in part to anxiety. So, while I will continue to bring you the latest Classics news, there will be some changes coming to Imperium Romanum as I turn more attention to the everyday realities of studying Classics and my experiences as a student. Life can often be overwhelming, and acknowledging this and finding a better way to tackle the day-to-day burdens before the month-to-month or the year-to-year is going to be a major focus for me. I think that a productivity challenge is an excellent way to do this. Starting January 3, I’ll be documenting my productive efforts via Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr. While I expect most of my days will be related to research, I have no doubt that the challenge will have a positive impact on my life outside of university.

And with that, I’ll wrap up. To all my followers, old and new, I wish you a very happy and prosperous 2019. I hope you’ll share your adventures with me too, and I encourage you to share your New Years Goals – my ask box and submissions are always open!

~ Admin @sassy-cicero-says

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