#and then got a PhD in some random thing so I could just think about tolkien all the time instead

[just-wrting]

Secret Admirer

Title: Secret Admirer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: You've been trying to figure out who keeps leaving you little notes and gifts. Despite everyone else knowing, you keep denying the obvious answer.

Word Count: 1721

Master List

A/N: This will probably be the only thing I write for Reid. I'm not super into him but when the List Randomizer spat out secret admirer I weirdly thought of him. I plan on trying to write a bunch of different characters from a bunch of different fandoms. Just whoever pops into my head I guess. Two will probably be posted Friday.

You aren’t sure when you noticed it. Maybe it was the fact that your desk was always clean. Maybe it was the little extra things that started to appear. Slowly but surely, you realized you had someone who was leaving you gifts and notes. You had a secret admirer.

Despite your efforts, no one on the team would say anything. For several weeks, you pressed the issue with the other BAU members, yet no one cracked. In fact, you were teased about being unable to figure it out. How could a member of the BAU not figure out their mystery admirer?

“Come on Garcia! I know you know. You have to tell me,” you plead with the tech genius. “You’ve literally been avoiding me. I know you know.”

She lets out a squeak before running to the safety of her lair. Morgan is giving you a smirk and shaking his head. Despite your scowl, he chooses to tease you.

“Come on, (L/N), can’t you figure it out? Who could be this mystery man leaving you gifts and fancy letters?” He laughs as he pokes the latest gift, a small stuffed version of your favorite animal.

“Hey, leave my new son out of this. What did he ever do to you?” you grumble, pulling it closer to you. “I didn’t even realize someone remembered such a little detail.”

“Maybe that means it’s been a long time crush.”

At that moment, Reid sets his bag down and takes a seat at his desk. You think you see Morgan’s grin get wider, but it’s hard to tell given how wide his smile usually is. It’s a picture perfect smile.

“That’s a relatively cute stuffed animal. I’ve actually been reading up on that one recently if you’d like to know more,” he offers. “Only if you’re interested of course.”

Reid gives you his charming boyish smile. It goes well with demeanor and you can’t help but find it cute.

“As long as you’re willing to leave out the creepy facts. I don’t even remember telling anyone my favorite animal,” you say with a smile. “Who would remember such a little detail?”

Morgan chimes back in, “Maybe someone with a perfect memory. Like what the kid has.”

You sigh. “Reid seems to like highly intelligent women with PhDs. I may be smart, but I’m not smart enough.”

Before anyone can protest, Hotch calls you all to the conference room for a case. While you’re sure Reid is nice enough to help whoever has a crush on you, you doubt you’d be his type. Maybe Reid is the perfect person to question about the mystery man.

—-

“Reid, (L/N), you two stay here and look through the papers,” Hotch orders before leaving the precinct.

You frown. What’s the point of having you here? Reid can read faster than you can. It’s almost like you’re just here for moral support in case he gets tired.

“Well now I feel useless,” you groan. “What am I even supposed to do?”

Reid doesn’t look up as he speaks. “Maybe today you’re our mascot. After all, mascots are supposed to be cute.”

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh. “Not all mascots are cute. Recognizable is definitely more important than cute. Besides, am I really that cute?

“I meant to say that compared to Morgan, you’re cute.” Reid buries his head further into the papers.

You ponder for a moment. “Well, you’ve got some charm. Morgan has the charm of he’s good with women so that’s why he gets hit on. Hotch is mature and a leader so that’s why women are into him. You’re cute though. You’ve got this soft sort of shyness that makes you adorable.”

You don’t catch Reid’s reply. His face is completely hidden behind various files. Maybe he’s just embarrassed, given that he’s always been a bit bad with taking compliments. That doesn’t stop you from thinking that it’s adorable.

“Speaking of your charms. I like the fact that you’ve got a good memory. You wouldn’t happen to know who’s got a crush on me, would you?”

He doesn’t look up. “I can pass along a message if you’d like.”

“Well then, I suppose you should tell this guy to ask me out. I can say for certain that if he’s this considerate, that he’s already got my interest.”

“I’ll do that,” he mumbles before handing you a file. “Take a look at this. I think I’ve found what we’ve been missing.”

—-

You peer into the lecture hall. It took some convincing, but you have successfully dragged J.J. to one of Lewis’ classes. You gesture vaguely into the room.

“See! That’s what normal Reid is. Dorky jokes, random facts, and the rambling on for ages is what makes him Reid. That’s not what he’s like around me anymore,” you hiss.

She makes a face and shakes her head. “So you have a different Reid? I don’t think he’s been replaced (L/N). Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard.”

You scoff. “No I’m not. Reid just seems so nervous around me. Did I do something? He barely looks at me anymore.”

With a shrug, she leads you away. “Have you tried asking him?”

You toss your empty coffee cup in a trash can. Part of you wants to throw up your hands and be done. Why is everyone treating this like it’s normal? No one is giving you any answers.

“Of course I have J.J. It would be weirder if I hadn’t. He clearly knows something about this secret admirer of mine, but won’t tell.”

J.J. pats your arm comfortingly. “Maybe it’s because he’s your secret admirer. Perhaps you need to ask him out.”

“Yeah sure. I’ll ask him out once I have the evidence that he’s the person leaving me these gifts.”

J.J. raises her eyebrows as she drinks from her coffee. Her face says she has other thoughts, but she won’t press the matter further. Your gut tells you to trust her, but you’d rather not make a fool of yourself. Sure, she knows Reid better than you do, but Reid can be difficult to read.

—-

After reading the latest note, you search your desk for your stapler. You’ve been stapling the date and time to each note before tucking it in your desk. However, it’s missing.

You let out a groan. This isn’t the first time it’s been in the wrong spot, and you’re sick of it. You opt to beg Garcia to look at the camera footage to see who’s been using it.

“Hey Garcia? Can you please pull up the footage of my desk this morning? Someone’s been using my stapler, and today they stole it,” you grumble with a scowl. “Whoever took it is going to get some very strong words.”

As she speeds through the footage, you watch the people who got there before you. At first, you see Reid pause at your desk and fiddle with something. You note that he’s the only person in the office at the time, but after he pulls away, you see your stapler still on the desk.

The next person to stop at your desk is Morgan. He pulls your stapler off your desk and staples his paperwork together as he heads to Hotch’s office. He never sets it back on your desk.

“Garcia? Can you please get my stapler from that idiot?”

She laughs. “Has he been using your stapler this whole time? He said there wasn’t any more in the supply room.”

You shake your head. “You like him so much, you can retrieve my stolen goods from him.”

Garcia nods. “I’m on it. You can count on me.”

You leave her to her planning. You don’t comment on the fact that Reid had been at your desk. If you ask her about it, she’ll just  leave you alone to go get your stapler. This is enough evidence for you though. It’s time to confront Reid.

Thankfully, he’s made his way to the conference room to look for something. You sneak in behind him and stand between him and the door.

“So, what did you need from my desk this morning?”

You watch him jump and spin around. He looks shocked, but quickly covers it up.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, (L/N).”

You frown. “I found out my stapler was missing. Garcia showed me the footage and before it went missing, you were at my desk. What did you do?”

Reid opens and closes his mouth a few times. He doesn’t look at you. His hands keep fiddling with whatever he’s holding.

“Forget about it, I’m sure there was just some trash leftover that you cleaned up.”

He swallows hard. “Yeah. I didn’t want you to have to worry about it.”

You give him a smile. “Thanks. Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you about something else. The others seem to think I’m just talking myself out of it, but I think I can't put it off any longer.”

You make your way towards him, your smile still plastered on your face. You can tell he’s even more nervous now.

“Reid, are you my secret admirer?”

This time, Reid looks you in the eyes. You hear his breath hitch in his throat.

“What if I am?”

You’re a bit taken aback. Despite the determination you had walking into this, you aren’t sure what to say.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your voice is a whisper now. It feels like some sort of dream. It’s almost like if you talk too loud, this whole thing will shatter and you’ll be left in pieces.

“I didn’t think you’d like me back. Your type just didn’t seem to include me.”

Reid hesitantly pushes a strand of hair out of your face.

“You’re more my type than you realize.”

“Then do you want to get dinner tonight?”

Now you’re the one who's acting nervous. Your palms are sweaty. It’s more difficult to breathe. You can’t help but bite your lip.

“I’d like that. If you’re willing to get dinner with me.”

Reid leans down, and gives you a quick kiss. It barely lasts a second, but you can feel your skin heat up. When he pulls away, he stays close.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

#reader insert #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my sister that I didn't find her instagram post funny and that I didn't want her to send me things like that again?

I (32f) have never had a good relationship with my sister (34f). We have gotten somewhat better over time, but we have always had a strained relationship. We are about as opposite as you can be. Social rights issues? No compromise. ACAB? Constant disagreements. Politics: best never mention them. TV Shows? No interest at all. Music? We cannot stand each other's music. We genuinely have nothing except our blood and the fact we were raised by the same people in common.

I am currently in the process of finishing my PhD and live on a different continent to her. We have been vaguely trying to talk and maintain a cordial friendship from afar.

For the past four months I had been preparing for a conference that I was organizing, leading, and moderating. It was a massive project that will be a huge part of my dissertation research, and it went very well. The day after the conference I had a long career planning discussion with some academic advisors, and spent about three hours talking in my second language with my own advisor. The combination of everything left me genuinely exhausted to the point that I woke up the day after it all still too tired to move.

After I woke up, I realized I had a text from her containing an instagram link - no comment, no notes, no context, just the link. I know I wasn't in a perfect headspace and still needed more sleep, but I clicked it because usually she just spam sends me instagram videos about random baby rearing things she finds funny. I don't find any of them amusing, but tolerate them because she seems to enjoy it. I usually just nod my head or offer a few responses to show I've seen it and move on.

But this video was different. This video was, as far as I can tell, an influencer attempt at selling an AI. It had a young woman walk into a classroom with the onscreen text describing how "my professor is the same age as us and she has her phd!" and when she was asked how she got it, the video shows how the "teacher" went onto Youtube, put Youtube videos into this AI which created an algorithm to summarize the video. It ends with the words "University is a joke in 2024".

I was....genuinely offended. After everything I had been through working on this conference and with years of thesis work, I was just hurt. I watched it a few times, trying to understand what it was even trying to say, and could come up with no good reason for why she would just send it to me. So I wrote back to her "idk how you even want me to respond."

She said she thought it was funny, and I asked her if she understood why I wouldn't find it funny. She wrote back "because you lack my sense of humor smh." I tried explaining why I was upset and reframed it in the context of her job. She doubled down that she thought it was funny, but that it was because she thought it was amusing anyone would think they could get any kind of degree like that.

I explained that AI is genuinely a problem in universities right now and that our students are using it to get through their classes and it's causing a lot of chaos with profs trying to crack down on it. Then I told her it felt like she sent me something just to annoy me.

The argument continued from there. I asked her not to send me stuff like that again, and she asked how she was supposed to know I would be triggered by an AI video, and that I was being oversensitive, and how it was my fault for always assuming that she is plotting to piss me off and that she can never show an interest in my life without me having a "feelings dumpfest" and calling her out for being a bully.

I don't understand how she could think sending a video to me saying "university is a joke in 2024" with no context at all would be taken as a joke in the first place. And I felt like if I didn't tell her I didn't like this kind of video and why it made me upset she would keep sending things like this to me I'd have to keep seeing and ignoring future posts.

AITA for telling her I didn't think it was funny and to stop?

Should I have just ignored it and gone back to sleep? (At this point that's what I felt like I should have done...)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[ghouljams]

I hadn’t even thought about love being Dr Love! Do you think Ghost’s name also relates to his field? Like maybe he did a dissertation on like different philosophical beliefs and how they relate to like after life beliefs (idk I am not a philosophy person)

Dr Love!!! It's both a shortening of her name and a nickname from her students/colleagues.

I think Ghost did his dissertation on not only belief in the afterlife but on whether grief makes people more prone to believing in the supernatural. I think the man did some survey research and then posited on notions of ghosts and the afterlife. He isn't religious but you won't find a man more willing to talk about God or predeterminism. In my mind he has a book or two that he's published, and a lot of essays on fate and morality, whether life is random and if morality can survive that randomness. Idk I have a lot of ideas about Ghost and his philosophical stances, I imagine he had an abrupt career change after his family was murdered. Couldn't understand why he could do everything right and still have things go so wrong, so he studied it until he got a PhD in it.

Ghost is also a disparaging nickname from his colleagues because he's impossible to catch or pin down for anything. His students call him Ghost because he's fucking silent, and just appears in the lecture hall without anyone noticing.

#ghoul speaks #simon ghost riley #oc: love #professor!ghost

[bookscandlesnbts]

Jimin, Serendipity, and Me

I’ve been wanting to make this post for a while. I had to wait until all the dust settled from MS and I could type this without crying. It’s no secret that Jimin is very special to me, which sounds silly to say because I don’t actually know him in real life, but I feel connected to him. Hear me out.

Even after all of the amazing solo songs that Jimin has gifted us, Serendipity is still my favorite. Between the concept of serendipity itself, the sweet meaningful lyrics, Jimin’s delicate angelic vocals, the lofi production, and last but not least, the choreography, I can’t imagine Jimin releasing a song that I like more. Well, he’s Park Jimin so obviously he could, but I don’t think I’ll have the same emotional connection to it let’s just say.

Now the concept of Serendipity is also meaningful to me. The dictionary definition is as follows: the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

So how do Jimin and Serendipity connect with me? Let me explain.

For many of us, Jimin is our comfort person. I personally do not have a partner (not a pity party I don’t want to date anyone) but I do have close friends. And I have Jimin. So, when Jimin went off to MS, I knew I would lose those moments of Serendipty where he would surprise me with his goregous presence and soothing voice when I needed him. I’m talking about Weverse Lives here and formerly Vlives. We know in Jimin’s case that lives are planned and not at all spontaneous like Jungkook. And, we know last year these were few and far between. He’s usually at Hybe or in the car coming to and from work, so when these lives lined up with big moments in my life, it was true serendipity.

1. My “big girl” job interview. When I interviewed for a faculty position (current place of employment), I was extremely nervous. I was still in graduate school, hadn’t defended by PhD yet and had no idea what to expect. I woke up really early and when I started doing my make up, I got the notification on my phone that Jimin went live. It was a much needed confidence boost and what timing.

2. My actual PhD defense. A few months later, the same thing happened again. Morning of my PhD defense I was awake super early and putting my make up on and Jimin went live and I watched and listened to him talk the entire time I got ready. It was the good omen that I needed and serendipitous that the random time Jimin was live again was on the morning of my PhD defense.

3. This example was in 2021, but it still counts. I was with a friend at Disney and it was 1:00 am and she randomly got sick and was throwing up in the bathroom. I am petrified of throwing up. No, I’m not the friend that is going to hold your hair back; I’m going to have a panic attack instead. While this was happening, Jimin went live (I remember he was in the car) and listening to him and focusing on him really calmed me down.

In conclusion, Jimin has unknowingly supported me through some huge moments in my life. And it was especially hard coming to terms with him not being here this year. Fortunately, no major milestones should be happening this year for me, but it was always interesting seeing when we would get to see him. This was more cathartic for me to write than anything. But given how special Jimin is, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has serendipitously been there for you too.

#park jimim #jiminbts #park jimin #serendipity

[teamfortraven]

An Accidental Discovery

I come bearing food :] hardhat man enjoyers, REJOICE! Reader gets wrecked!

I sighed and wiped my brow as I stepped back a few feet, admiring the work before me. I had agreed to help Engineer today, which mainly consisted of passing him whatever tools he needed, but spent several hours in his workshop with him nonetheless. The southerner had always been painfully sweet to me, ever since the first day we met, and I had to admit he was charming. He was funny, gave great advice, and always upheld his promises. Hell, it was impossible not to like the guy. So when he asked if I could lend him a hand, of course I agreed. I didn’t know what he was building, but it looked impressive. After a moment longer of tinkering, he backed up to stand beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders in appreciation, his other hand on his hip.

“Well, she’s done”, he huffed, a smile stretched across his face. “Thanks again, pardner. Couldn’t a’ done it without ya.”

“No problem at all, Engie”, I insisted. “I’m happy to help.”

There was a short, comfortable silence, both of us enjoying the company the other provided and the sense of accomplishment.

“So, lookin’ at the finished product, whaddya think of ‘er?” He eventually asked, eyes never leaving his most recent invention.

I practically scoffed. “To be honest? I have no idea what that thing is. If I had a couple of PHDs under my belt, maybe I could give you some sort of feedback, but to me it just looks like a bunch of random parts mashed together.”

He finally looked over at me; his goggles hid his eyes behind a dark reflective layer, but I could hear the amusement in his voice. “Hey, c’mon, now—“ He playfully jabbed me in the side, still holding me by the shoulders. “—These degrees ain’t just for lookin’ at chunks a’ metal and seein’ what’s what.” I flinched right after he poked me, a hand flying to cover the area defensively. I had done so entirely out of reflex, and I hoped he hadn’t noticed. Unfortunately, as I looked back up at him, I saw his pursed lips, at first questioning my reaction, slowly turn into a mischievous smile.

“What’s that guarded look for? Ya got somethin’ to hide?” He repeated the motion several more times, watching my face as an involuntary smile spread across it; the hand on my shoulder slowly slid to grip below my arm, making it more difficult for me to try turning away. 

My fists clenched at my sides as I fought the urge to smack his hand away. “Nothing”, I stammered.

“You sure ‘bout that? This certainly doesn’t look like nothin’”, he drawled, wiggling a single finger against my side to indicate what he was talking about.

“E-Engie!-“ I quickly broke into giggles as his mechanical hand suddenly spidered gently across my stomach, the hand gripping under my arm digging in with quick motions.

“D’aww, now ain’t that just adorable?” He cooed as I doubled over in an effort to protect myself, my face tinted pink from his comment. I managed to grasp the wrist of his prosthetic hand, attempting to push it away even though I knew damn well it was much, much more powerful than me.

As he continued, I eventually found it difficult to remain standing, becoming more and more desperate to get out of his grip. When I finally tried to sink down and out of his arms, he followed me to the floor, to my surprise. “And where do ya think you’re goin’?” I twitched at his touch as both hands switched to my sides, simultaneously tormenting me and holding me in place. I grasped both of his wrists, gasping before being unable to stop myself from laughing, completely falling back against the floor.

“D-Dell!” I spluttered, unable to meet his gaze with how warm my face felt. “S-Stop!” I said it in a less-than-serious tone, not sure if I really wanted him to or not. There was something so loving about the way he was tickling me; I found it strangely comforting, yet torturous all the same. 

He hummed, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. “‘Fraid I can’t do that, darlin’.” I felt red explode across my face, which only deepened as he added, “You’re just too darn cute.” I squeaked as he suddenly dug his fingers in just below my ribs, bolting into an upright position and attempting to block him. He whistled at my frantic reaction, shoving me right back to the floor as if I were completely weightless, continuing with lighter pokes. “Now, how in the world do you get through doctor appointments bein’ this ticklish?” He seemed to be half talking to himself, but I attempted to answer nonetheless, my voice slightly muffled while I covered my face.

“One time- I accidentally punched Medic!-” I managed to convey through a stream of giggles. He laughed loudly at that, easing up on his attacks for a moment. “Well, with how you’re squirmin’ right now, I reckon he’d have had to tie you down more than once before!” Immediately following that sentence, he suddenly got a particular look on the half of his face that I could see. He actually withdrew his hands from me, reaching up and moving his goggles to the base of his helmet so I could see his eyes. Then, without ever looking away from me, he reached to the side of his belt, grasping the extension cord. Oh. Oh no.

He chuckled at the apparently amusing facial expression I was making, unhooking the cord from his belt and grasping both of my wrists with the gunslinger. “Since you’re so reluctant to sit still...” He gently pinned my hands to the concrete above my head before skillfully tying them to the leg of the table behind us with his real hand. “There. That oughta help. And now...” I didn’t think it was possible to be blushing any harder when I felt even more warmth rush to my face; he raised his hands above me threateningly, wiggling his fingers with a dark expression, his laugh seeming to echo. “...I’ve got free reign.”

Even though I knew he was purposely trying to taunt me, I had never seen the engineer look so genuinely terrifying before- and that was saying something, considering I had seen him covered head-to-toe in blood on multiple occasions (still with his sweet smile and southern drawl, of course). After pausing like that for a moment, he didn’t seem to be able to take himself seriously, half-wheezing, half-choking, covering half his face with a single hand. He looked back down at me with lidded eyes and a small smile, still partially hiding behind his hand, his face now dusted pink in embarrassment. “Well, anyways...”

I was taken completely off guard as he suddenly scribbled his fingers across my ribs, yelping before practically screaming with laughter, much to his amusement. “I figured you were probably extra sensitive here, but I didn’t think you’d be this sensitive”, he teased, constantly switching up the patterns his fingers went in. I had almost immediately started kicking my legs, hoping I didn’t accidentally hurt him, before he quickly knelt with his leg across my thighs, preventing me from lashing out. “I really don’t think you’d like to kick me, darlin’, now, would ya?”

I squeaked and giggled helplessly as he dragged his fingers across my torso, managing to stop myself from fighting the restraints.

“Q-quihihit it!” I whined as he continued to tease, twisting underneath him. I shrieked as he suddenly dug into the sides of my hips, and I saw a wicked smile light up on his face.

“Oh? This a bad spot?” I cursed him out quietly before falling into giggles again. This continued for a while longer, and he kept teasing me, enjoying the way my face lit up bright red — although nothing compared to the hue when he slightly lifted my shirt, exposing my stomach.

“H-hey! Wait-“ I squeaked and went dead silent as he pressed individual fingers down into my stomach: gentle, but with enough pressure that I shivered.

“I’ll let you go, hun, don’t you worry”, he reassured, although I heard the unmistakable playfulness in his voice. “I just wanna test one more thing…”

My eyes widened as he removed his fingers… and then blew a raspberry. I began practically screaming with laughter, pulling at the restraints desperately. “I’M SO GONNA GET YOU BACK!” I managed to yell between gasps for air, before being plunged into laughter yet again as he blew another, gently scratching at either of my sides with his fingertips.

He withdrew with a chuckle. “Oh really? You’re gonna get me back for this, huh? I doubt it.” He teasingly nuzzled my stomach and I tried to lift my legs on reflex, just to be reminded they were pinned underneath him. No matter which way I attempted to turn, his hands pinned my torso in place. Tears collected at the corners of my eyes as he finally lifted his head.

“Alright, alright, I’ll let up”, he said after seeing the state I was in. He moved his leg off of my own before swiftly untying the extension cord from around my wrists, smoothing his fingers over them to make sure the cord hadn’t been pressed too tightly against them. As I regained my breath, he stood up, gently taking my hands in his and helping me follow him. I allowed him to wrap me in a hug, rubbing my back.

“Y’know, you’re too damn cute when you’re flustered.” My eyes opened wide at this comment, and I veered back to look at him, face brighter than the sun.

“Shut up, I’m not!”

He simply laughed, smirking as he pulled his goggles back down over his eyes. “You ain’t never been more wrong, sweetheart.”

I was so gonna get him back.

-

Yeah I kinda like this character if you couldn't tell... /s

Also I'm well aware that the tags I use make it so people not in the t-word community find this, as well, which is why this is an account completely separate from my main :] I want people who really want to read this type of fluff to be able to find it easily and IDC who else sees because it's entirely SFW and nothing to be ashamed of. Have a great weekend, guys <3

#tf2 tickles #tickles #sfw tickling community #engineer

[neutroiis]

How might one get into "reading for a living" because that's a dream job

it is not a dream job, its called publishing and i make less than 40k a year LOL.

to be less arch, im an editor, and i work in editorial which is the 'flashy' department (lmao), but it's a pretty stressful job. obviously it's one i enjoy because no one would stay in the industry unless they got some reward for it. but still. i say 'reading books' is my job but thats probably only like 40% of it. a lot of my day to day work involves nagging people for deadlines, having meetings abt whether XYZ feature will cost extra, researching marketing trends, etc. YMMV if you work as a book designer or some other dept, i know they have different rules. this isnt to bitch but i think publishing has REALLY good PR among english majors and these are things i wish someone had told me before i sunk money into a publishing degree. BTW: dont get a publishing degree. experience > MA in publishing

so like, i cant in good conscience recommend the industry -- its sort of like going to grad school except with worse pay (the phd candidate gets a stipend; the unpaid intern does not.) but if you already have prion disease and you want to go into publishing, heres what i got

publishing advice below:

first things first, you need book experience. you can get this through the obvious ways (working on ur college lit mag, unpaid internships, copyediting freelance work) but i feel like that prob goes without saying. so what ill say is: if none of those options work, you could always work at a bookstore. lots of the editors i work with actually got their start by saying in the interview, "i worked at barnes and noble and noticed that [category] sells well. i love noticing which books resonate with people" or what have you

i will say that i work in nonfiction publishing, which has some differences from like, editing queer YA fiction. one of those jobs is more competitive than the other. and the industry standards are pretty toxic (if your author misses his deadline and sends the manuscript at 6pm, tough shit, you have to work late to make sure the book doesn't miss its pub date. if you're not thinking about all your books constantly, you must not really care. etc.)

that said one of the best things i can recommend is looking into publishing jobs in different departments. most people are competing for editorial department jobs (things like acquiring and signing books, and being the main point of contact for an author.) but if your passion mostly lies in editing or making things pristine, managing editorial departments often hire production editors who still read through all the books, but their day to day work is more like proofreading, checking barcodes, and other printing related tasks.

theres also finance. finance publishing jobs are never anyones first choice, but on the plus side, you wont have to tell the author why his advance is late. thats the acquiring editor's job. and also lots of people pivot to editorial after they have some years doing finance, design, production, etc.

i will say there are way more remote publishing jobs now than ever. theyre all super competitive but you should apply anyway. if youre entry level, look for "editorial assistant" type roles. some of these actually pay really well: to give an example, harvard hires copyeditors and editorial assistants at a rate which is more than my yearly salary. i mean, its harvard. you gotta look around. but there are more options besides the big 5 publishers. academic publishing is its own field! work at your favorite journal/database! work at JSTOR or wiley!

i dont think theres anything else i would add, other than just random shit talking abt industry standards and quirks of the industry. i dont want to sound whiny because i realize im lucky to be working in my field -- but, i think people oversell publishing as one of "the only career options for english majors."

to be totally honest, most people could make double or triple my salary from being a project manager or corporate editor. so if you enjoy reading and editing, there are better options to you than trade publishing. if you enjoy the act of connecting with authors and making their vision a reality, you might enjoy publishing. or you might not. idk!

[cwritesforfun]

(Criminal Minds) Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader: Lunch Date

Based on 1st Season Spencer Reid Spencer met Y/N at a bookstore. He asked her out and his date is tomorrow.  Got facts Spencer will day from these websites - Wikipedia, PubMed, Journal of Sleep Research, and college grad program website **I don't own these characters except for Y/N and the waiter, Alex** **Y/N = Your Name**

Master list

Spencer's POV

We just got back to Quantico from our last case in Florida.

I pack up my things to go home and Morgan walks over. He asks "Doing anything this weekend?" I answer "Reading Lord Of The Rings, a date, and catching up on my soap shows." Morgan nods and then his jaw drops. He asks "A date? Damn with who pretty boy?" I laugh and answer "A girl from a bookstore." He replies "Don't do anything I would do. Actually scratch that man, do what I would do. Enjoy yourself." Garcia stops by and asks "Enjoy himself? Hey, remember when Reid did his physics magic and it exploded at Hotchner's feet? He was enjoying himself then." We all laugh. Morgan says "He's going on a date." Garcia smiles and hugs me. She says "Omg I can't believe it. Tell me everything." I reply "There's really not much to tell. She was in the fantasy genre section of the bookstore on 5th Street named BooksAMillion. It was actually row 16. I was browsing nearby and I thought she looked pretty. I walked over and we talked about books for a little bit before I asked her out. The bookstore worker wasn't happy about us talking semi-loudly, but I could tell she likes to see a relationship blossom at her store. She let it pass. That's it." Garcia laughs and replies "Of course, you met her at a bookstore and remember exactly where you met. Please invite me to the wedding and the proposal you should have there." I reply "Garcia, I haven't even gone out with her yet." She laughs and replies “You always know when it’s the one.”

Y/N's POV - Next Day!

I'm meeting Dr. Spencer Reid for our date tonight. He's literally the same age as me and has multiple PHD’s. I feel so unaccomplished. It's fine though. After getting a double Master's, I was done with school.

We're going to lunch at some random place he picked then we planned on picking a book out for each other at the bookstore we met at. I think it'll be cute. I'm very excited.

I arrive at the lunch place on time and see Dr. Reid sitting on the bench outside. He sees me, waves, and stands. I walk up and exclaim "Hi Dr. Reid! How are you doing today?" He replies "Please call me Spencer. I've had a good day so far. I finished rereading the entire Lord of the Rings Trilogy and started rewatching episodes of my soaps."

We head inside the restaurant and we take a seat at an empty table.

I ask "Finish the trilogy again? Wait did you read all 3 today or just the last one?" He answers "All 3. I can read 20,000 words per minute." I reply "Damn I wish I was you. That would've made school so much easier." He replies "Not for me. I was bullied in school. I reply “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m glad you made it out in one piece.” He smiles and says “Yeah, I made it out one piece physically. My reading speed did help with my 3 BAs and 3 PHDs that my bullies don’t have." I smile and reply "Wow what a flex. I was wondering why you were called a Doctor. Personally, I only got two Master's and then I was done with school." He replies "More than 16 million people have a Master's in the U.S. That is roughly 8% of the population. Did you know that the amount of students in college now who are pursuing their Master's is higher than in the past decade?" I answer "That's so interesting. Huh well, I think it personally helped me get the job I have, which is good."

A waiter walks up and exclaims "Sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Alex. I'll be your server this afternoon. What can I get for both of you to drink?" We both tell him our drink orders then he swiftly returns with drinks. We tell him our food order and he leaves.

I ask "Have you ever been here before?" He shakes his head and answers "My friend, Morgan, told me about it. He goes on a lot of dates. It seemed to have a good selection from the menu, so I'm glad he suggested it." I smile and nod. He asks "Any plans for the rest of the weekend?" I answer "Get some sleep tonight to be ready for the week and maybe bake some kind of bread to eat for breakfast this week." He replies "Oh... According to PubMed, people don't just adjust to a routinely disparate weekday and weekend sleep schedule. You think you do, but you don't. Not to mention, the Journal of Sleep Research says we get about 30 minutes less sleep than we would ideally need on each night of the working week... sorry I got a little carried away there." I smile and reply "No problem at all. It's super interesting. Did any of those articles ever say what to do instead? Because if you aren't catching up with your sleep, then what? He answers "Mainly it said to keep a normal sleep schedule and not to change anything." I reply "Is that cool? Yes. Will I try it? Maybe not. I love not having a healthy sleeping pattern." He laughs.

Food arrives and we eat.

After lunch, we walk down the street to BooksAMillion for the next part of our date.

I ask "So do we have a time limit or book limit or price limit or anything?" He asks "Do you have an idea of what you want to get already?" I nod. He says "Ok so do I. We can do 15 minutes and a 2-book limit." I reply "Deal!"

We separate and I start walking to fantasy. He seems like a Star Trek & adventure-loving guy, so time for my first book. I grab my first book and then head to the nonfiction section for my second one. I pick it up and head to the checkout line. I wait in it and checkout.

As I walk towards the exit, I see Spencer by the entrance holding a bag plus two cups. He hands me one and says "I got you a coffee. You seem like a two-sugar and half-n-half girl to me. I hope you don't mind and I hope I got your order right." I reply "Omg wow yes that is my order. Thanks, Spencer. Shall we?" I motion to the door and he nods.

We leave and head to the park across the street. We sit on a bench and I ask "Who first?" He answers "You seem excited. You start." I smile and say "Ok... here ya go. I shall explain why as soon as you see them." I hand him the bag and he sets his coffee down. He takes the bag and opens it. He pulls out the first one. I exclaim "Ok so my first one. Now based on our one conversation from last time, you gave me Trekkie vibes like you just seem like Star Trek would be your thing. Am I right?" He nods and I continue "Awesomeness wow! So my first one is Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik gives me very much Kathryn Janeway vibes. Ooh I hate that I've said vibes twice in the span of 5 minutes. Ew. Sorry ok so... Kathryn was the first Federation captain to successfully traverse the Delta Quadrant, encountering dozens of new planets and civilizations over the course of seven years. Then in the book, the plot revolves around three amazing women and a stubborn resistance to cultural norms. Have you read it before?" He shakes his head and replies "No I can't say I have. Nice call on Star Trek. So now book 2!" He pulls it out and I exclaim "Ahh ok so book two is The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. I recommend it to so many people because I think there's something in there that will resonate with everybody. It makes you believe in yourself and not feel so uninspired by work. I don't even know if you feel that way, but it's helped me and I thought hey why not?" He replies "Well thank you. I'm sure I'll like it. I'm excited to read them." I smile.

I set my coffee down and he hands me my bag. He picks his coffee back up, sips it, then exclaims "So the first one is a classic, so I really hope you haven't read it yet. The Once And Future King by T.H. White is a retelling of King Arthur and his life. The book is divided into four parts, which are The Sword in the Stone detailing the youth of Arthur. Then, The Queen of Air and Darkness was published separately in a somewhat different form as The Witch in the Wood. Next is The Ill-Made Knight (1940), dealing mainly with the character of Lancelot. Lastly is The Candle in the Wind. I hope you like it as much as I do. My second book is quite the craze among people at the moment. It is The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. It was originally written in Portuguese, but I picked the English version for you. It follows a young Andalusian shepherd on his journey to the pyramids of Egypt, after having a recurring dream of finding a treasure there. I hope you like them." I smile and reply "I'm excited to read them. Thank you so much, Spencer." His phone rings and he says "Oh... one minute." He walks off with his phone.

Spencer shortly returns and says "This was a fun date. Thank you for coming. I hope we can do this again. Unfortunately, I have to head to work." I reply "Aww yeah I had fun too. This was a great date! Well, I guess I'll see ya Spencer!" He grabs his bag and coffee then he leans forward to kiss me on the cheek. He says "Bye Y/N." I wave bye and he walks off.

I head home right after to start reading my books.

Spencer's POV

On the jet, I pull out my books and set them on the table. Morgan asks "You got new books? What about that date? Did you miss it?" I answer "No. In fact, she picked these books out for me. One was because she guessed I was a Star Trek fan and one was to inspire me plus it's one of her favorite books. I gave her The Once And Future King plus The Alchemist." He laughs and replies "Nerds. Geez. So you had fun?" I answer "Technically fun is enjoyment, amusement, or lighthearted pleasure. I have fun all the time. If you mean, do I think we'll go on another date? I kissed her on the cheek and she let me ramble. I'd say yes." He laughs.

........................................................................... THANK YOU FOR READING!!!! :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #imagines

[aanylah-101]

The Other Side

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Warnings; ❌

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Word Count; 1K (Short story)

I had been here for a while, I was In the nursing department but when shown to have better ability to record stats I was moved to the Bio-Lab and Grace Augitens RDA department. I never focused on the labels or only when my ADHD forced me to. 

But one person would change my life forever...

Quite cheesy huh?

"...into the bio-lab, we're gonna spend a lot of time up here"

I heard Norm say as he entered, 

"Hey! How you doing? Norm, avatar driver"

"Hey Norm!" 

"Oh! Aanylah! Jake this is aanylah she Is Grace's assistant and Is a goddess at stats"

"Why thank you norm," I say smiling 

"Hello Jake! It's lovely to meet you, I've heard so much about you"

"Like my brother?" he said unbothered 

"Oh..yeah..I'm so sorry about that. I don't find you an inconvenience at all y'know"

"Come on..! I'll show you to your avatars!"

"They're coming out" someone yelled

"Oh god," Grace said sighing as she sat up out of her link,

She was about to yell for her things until she saw me holding her cigarette & her lab coat with the same go-lucky happy smile I always had whenever I first saw her, 

"Welcome back Grace!"

"How long have you been standing here?" she said grabbing her things from my grasp 

"Only until the announcement, I promise," I said playfully smiling 

I saw Jake and Norm again so I decided to Introduce everyone, just like how we did as kids 

"Oh! Grace, this Is Norm Spellman & Jake Sully!"

"Norm, I hear good things about you. How's your Na'vi?"

"May the All Mother...smile upon our first meeting"

"Not bad. You sound a little formal"

"I studied for five years...but there Is much to learn"

"And Jake Sully!" I said presenting him playfully 

"Ma'am," he said reaching his hand out to shake hers

Yeah, yeah. I know who you are. and I don't need you. I need your brother"

"You know, the PHD who trained for 3 years for this mission"

"Grace.."

"He's dead, I know It's a big inconvenience for everyone," he said looking at me, I only softened my eyes looking away

"How much lab training have you had?"

"I dissected a frog once"

"You see? You see?. I mean, they're just pissing on us without the courtesy of calling It rain"

"I'm going to Selfridge"

"-No, Grace"

"I don't think that's a good Idea-"

"No man this is such bullshit!" she said storming off

She realized she had left me behind so she grabbed my wrist dragging me along with her.

"Oh, come on grace.."

"No, there's no reason why he should be sticking his nose in my department"

I sighed and kept up my pace with her,

When we approached him he was playing golf with a random putter, a golf ball, and a mug.

"Parker, you know, I used to think It was benign neglect, but now I see that you are intentionally screwing me," she said letting go of my wrist so that way she could talk with hers.

Parker wasn't taking too much care Into the situation, he just kept playing his game In the middle of a heavily busy workroom.

"Grace you know, I enjoy our little talks," he said hitting the ball once again only for Grace to kick the cup away last minute

"Oops," she said bored looking back up at him

I instinctively went to go fix the positions of everything but grace only held out her arm pushing me back and blocking me.

"I need a researcher. Not some jarhead dropout"

"Well actually, I thought we got lucky with him," he said walking over to fix his game I would have fixed If I could've"

"Lucky?"

"-Yeah" 

"How Is this In any way lucky?"

"Uh, lucky your guy had a twin brother, and lucky that brother wasn't some oral hygienist or something"

He walked over to a table with a hologram of an area hovering on It and me & grace followed,

"A Marine we can use," he said handing his stuff off to someone else

"I'm assigning him to your team as secuirty escort."

"The last thing I need Is another trigger-happy moron out there" 

"Look, look, you're supposed to be winning the hearts and the minds of the natives. Isn't that the whole point of your little puppet show?"

"If you look like them and you talk like them, then they'll start trusting us"

"We build them a school, we teach them English, but what? after how many years? Relationships with the indigenous are only getting worse"  

"Yeah well that tends to happen when you used machine guns on them" she snapped

I knew Parker hit a weak spot for Grace so I gently went to hold her hand and she accepted It,

"Right, come here," he said leading us Into a connected room of the workplace

He picked up a piece of a rock floating by one of our devices, I honestly never saw the vaule on an everyday item.

"This Is why we're here, Unobtanium. Because this little grey rock sells for 20 Million a kilo"

"Woah..20 Million?" I say In an awed whisper, grace chuckled softly squeezing my hand for a second,

"That's the only reason. It's what pays for the whole party. It's what pays for your science"

"Comprehndo?"

"Now those savages are threatening our whole operation, we're on the brink of war and you're supposed to be finding a diplomatic solution," he said lightly tapping the table

"So use what you've got, and get me some results."

With that, the rest of the day was filled with Grace cussing out Parker, and I sat through every word of It.

Today Norm & Jake would get to test their avatars, I got mine a little over 2 weeks ago but there were some malfunctions so today I would happily be testing mine too! Grace didn't know about my Avatar delivery so I was excited I would get to surprise her.

I logged In and woke up In the cabin where we rested our Avatar bodies, I got up and went outside to find Grace. I found her outside with what looked like Jake & Norm.

"Grace!" I said waving to her

She turned and saw me walking towards her not knowing who I was at first but she could always recognize my go-happy tone of voice when greeting her. (or someone else)

"Aa?" she said In disbelief 

"Hi Grace!"

"Damn, not bad," she said smirking 

I was hit and caught with awe and smiled at her, 

Did she like me?

"Come on, everybody, quiet down!" Grace was escorting everyone to bed and hurrying the scientist out of the cabin

"All right, gang, lights out."

"Come on, Louise chop-chop."

I was heading to bed myself when grace was directing everyone, we had tags on the top behind our beds for who slept where. I had stepped down to lie down and glanced down at the bed next to me.

Grace's name was there

I smiled, I thought It was cute how me and her would be sleeping right next to each other, even If we wouldn't be In our own bodies It was still a nice thought. 

I wasn't sleeping right next to her.. one way or another. With that, when she switched off the lights I layed down and let myself drift off back to my own body.

____________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading <3 Bye Angels! 🕊🤍

Friends; @yourfavsuccubus22 @milequaritchsslut

#grace augustine #norm spellman #jake sully #Avatar #Avatar2009 #Grace x OC

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I’ve decided to not drink alcohol in January this year, which sounds like a small thing but I think it would be the first time since I was 20 years old that I’d go a whole month without bring drunk. I think so. With the possible exception of a couple of times when I was in university and competing on the varsity circuit. My teammates used to have a party 30 days before the major championships so they could all smoke a bunch of weed, because the major championships test for steroids and those tests can pick up other stuff too, and weed was illegal at the time and can stay in your system for 30 days, so they’d smoke a bunch of it and then not be able to have any more in the last 30 days before the competition.

This didn’t affect me because 1) I didn’t smoke weed and 2) I wasn’t good enough to get drug tested (they’re technically “random” tests, but they only actually target the athletes who are likely to represent the country at major international tournaments, to make sure we don’t even up with national scandals, I was on a team with people who were in the running for that but I wasn’t in the running myself), but I still went to the party and decided to get drunk that night and then not drink again until the competition. Just because I was trying to be in good competitive shape and alcohol doesn’t mix well with that. I was about to say that maybe the fact that quitting drinking for a month was a rare thing that I did only once a year for the biggest championship is why was never good enough to get drug tested, but my teammates were that good and most of them drank as much as I did in addition to smoking weed.

I think I tried to do that on two years, but only succeeded on one. On the second year, at some point I got depressed and decided I didn’t care anymore and just drank the week before the competition. But the first year, I was really good, I actually stuck to it despite really wanting a fucking drink. Several things went badly in the week before the competition that would normally have caused me to drink large amount of whiskey (short version of a long story that was traumatic as fuck for everyone involved: a girl I coached back home nearly committed suicide and her mother threatened to sue me because she thought it was my fault since my horrible influence as a gay coach had caused her daughter to be gay, she loudly called me a fucking dyke at the national championships in front of my university coach and teammates and said she’d call the cops if I ever spoke to her daughter again, this happened right after I had made her daughter promise me that the next time she wants to hurt herself she’ll call someone instead and if she has no one else to call she call me any time of day or night, she was only 15 and I was only 22, I shouldn’t need to clarify this but in case there’s any doubt obviously I was not interested in fucking a teenager I was just trying to keep her alive despite her abusive home life and parents who ignored her serious mental health issues, I ended up spending the next several months absolutely terrified that if I kept my promise to be there for her then her mother would tell the cops I was trying to sleep with her and that would ruin my whole future, but if I broke my promise then she’d die and it would be my fault, long and horrifying story but I saw that daughter at a tournament a year ago and she was 25 and doing her PhD and very happy and thanked me for getting her through her teenage years, it did work out), and I managed to stay sober anyway, through everything falling apart. I then competed at the tournament, didn’t do nearly as well as I would have liked but did do pretty well considering that I had a panic attack in the middle of my second match and nearly had to forfeit, but luckily one of my teammates was in my corner and got me out in time to rally and win the match and I ended up finishing fourth at the university national championships. Fourth at university national championships pretty well summarizes the level of competitive success I reached in my career overall. Was on a team with people who competed internationally. Was better than the people who could never have made that team at all. Did a lot of things along the lines of fourth at the national championships.

Anyway. What was I talking about? I’m not enjoying this weekend so I thought I’d reminisce a bit about things from the past. The good old days of getting on a plane to university nationals while thinking maybe I shouldn’t go because I wouldn’t want to be a whole plan ride away if this suicidal teenage girl needed me and also her mother was trying to ruin my life. Getting through a tournament despite that. Collapsing on the mat in the middle of the match and then squeezing my teammate’s hand in my corner until I nearly broke his bones, as he got me back on my feet (actually, I was being sarcastic about those other things being good memories, but that last one really was, he’s still one of my best friends to this day).

After the tournament there was this big party in the hotel. The parties after university nationals are legendary, because all the athletes from across the country are in one place, and can let loose as the big competitions are over. There was an award banquet, and I downed three beers very quickly in the 40 minutes between the end of the tournament and the beginning of the banquet, which meant was not quite sober enough to realize what was happening when the woman from a rival team who’d beaten me earlier that day started being weirdly touchy with me in line to get food, I was only informed later that she was flirting with me, and by not noticing I had become one of the 2% of athletes to not sleep with someone from another team in the hotel after this tournament. Then we had the awards ceremony and I watched a guy whom my team had kicked out for sexual harassment several years earlier win season MVP. And the coach whom everyone knew had slept with more than one of his athletes won coach of the year. And then it ended and the hotel gave all the athletes a conference room where we were allowed to drink, because it was the only way to keep the athletes from drinking in the halls. I remember sitting on a chair, staring into my beer, surrounded by all these athletes from across the country that I watched on YouTube and really admired, thinking I don’t belong here but this is fucking cool.

Then they all went to the bar, and I didn’t go, because I had just abstained from drinking for a month while my life absolutely fell apart, and then I’d had a horribly difficult day at a tournament where I was disappointed in my performance, and that’s not the sort of thing that I want to follow up with a night at a bar where I’d have to navigate social situations. What I wanted to do was get drunk by myself in the hotel room, but I couldn’t because my teammate who was rooming with me had also stayed home from the bar, and was hanging out in the room with a guy from another team who had a girlfriend on his own team but she hadn’t qualified for the national championships so of course he cheated on her with my roommate who had.

So instead, I took the case of beer and bottle of whiskey that I’d purchased into that concrete stairwell that hotels have. You know those concrete stairwells? Ones like this:

I sat on a landing from about 10:30 PM until 3:30 AM. I blasted music from my iPod (through headphones, I wasn’t completely inconsiderate of sleeping hotel guests) and texted occasionally with my friends back home, but I mostly just started at the concrete wall and contemplated all the things I'd ever done wrong.

All night, I only saw two people. One was a hotel employee who walked past me and told me I can't drink out here and have to take it to my room. I said okay, and made no move to get up. He just walked off and didn't say another word. Clearly, the hotel had spent all night dealing with athletes, coaches, and refs who were all letting loose in the post-season and causing actual problems. Clearly, he told me I had to go because he had to say something, but he did not actually give one fuck about someone sitting quietly in a stairwell no one ever used and keeping to herself.

The other people I saw were at about 3 AM, when the guy who'd won coach of the year came up the stairs with his former athlete/co-coach. Basically, he'd coached this woman for many years, including during her three Olympic runs, and everyone knew he was sleeping with her the whole time. Then she quit competing and became his co-coach. That was the case in 2013, when they walked by me on the stairwell. However, even though he was no longer her coach so it was technically okay by then on that front, he was still married, so they still had to make a cursory effort to hide their secret that everyone knew about. So when they got back from the bar, instead of her getting to his room via the elevator, they took the concrete stairwell so no one would see them go in together. They walked right past me, entered the hotel hall, and then she stuck her head back out and asked me, "Are you okay?" I was sitting there with a bottle of Jim Beam bourbon whiskey that I was drinking directly out of, a case of beer, and angry music blasting through headphones, in a concrete stairwell at 3 AM. I really wanted to say "Yes of course I'm fine, why do you ask?" but I think I just said yes. Clearly, what she actually meant by that question was "Are you going to tell anyone you saw me go into the hotel with this guy?" But she coached that rival woman who'd beaten me that day and I just wanted her to fuck off.

The next morning, we flew home and I had one of my best flights ever. I'm normally afraid of flying, but in this case, I was still quite drunk by the time the plane took off, so wasn't remotely anxious. I highly recommend staying up all night getting drunk before a flight and then still being drunk when it takes off. Very relaxing. I got home and proceeded to get drunk nearly every night for the next week.

...I did not mean to write that story right now. I don't really know how I got on to it, and I don't even want to go back and check. I started writing this post because I wanted to write a post that says I'm pretty sure that one time when I was 22, the month before university nationals, was the last time I went a whole month without getting drunk. And now I'm trying to do it again and it sucks.

I used to have no problem drinking when I had things to do the next day. I could drink until 3 or 4 AM and then go to work with only a mild hangover, no problem. I suppose that's one upside to the way COVIDtimes have significantly increased my general anxiety about my ability to function in the world outside my bedroom. It makes me really scared that I'll burn out mentally and won't be able to get through a work day and then I'll get fired and I won't be able to pay rent. This fear means that these days, I will never, ever have even a single drink if I have to work at any time the next day. Which means that since I started working full time in person last year, I was forced to drink less, and Friday and Saturdays were the only times when I could drink. But now I have taken those away, and it feels pretty bad.

Had a kid at work on Friday start crying and tell me he doesn't want to be autistic anymore, and I told him it doesn't always have to be bad, I mean I'm autistic and I've done okay, and then he started crying harder because he didn't know adults could be autistic, he thought he'd grow out of it someday. See, that's the sort of thing that would normally make me think, this is fucking harrowing and I feel awful and I don't know what to do for him, at least it's happening on a Friday so I can go home and drink whiskey about it. But I can't. I didn't. Because I am not drinking in January. And I keep reading stuff that says abstaining from alcohol will make you feel better but all that's happened is I've spent all weekend without a way to decompress and process stuff and now I'm just more anxious and depressed and agitated, which is why I opened Tumblr and started writing and then a long story from 2013 came out for no reason. If you stay sober for a weekend but still start get anxious about difficult memories from 2013, then what is the point of staying sober? I could get anxious about memories from 2013 while drunk at least that would be more fun. (Yes, obviously I am aware that the fact that abstaining from alcohol makes me feel like I have no way to decompress or process stuff is a good reason to give up alcohol so I can learn to live without it.)

I'm fine. I've spent the weekend wanting a drink and listening to some John Robins, some Jason Isbell. Jason Isbell is an excellent American musician who used to be the lead singer of the excellent country/Southern rock band Drive-By Truckers, then he got kicked out of Drive-By Truckers because his alcoholism made him an unreliable band member, he put out a few good solo albums, then got sober and put out a few more really great solo albums, which included a few songs about getting sober and how good and idea that was. He's always been great, I love his work with the Truckers and solo pre-sobering, but his best work was definitely done after getting sober. He also announced in 2020 that if his home state of Georgia went for Biden, he'd celebrate by recording an entire album of covers of famous songs by artists from Georgia. He did, it's called Georgia Blue, it's a great album. I've been listening to a lot of him this weekend.

Anyway, I'm feeling weirdly anxious for no good reason and thought I'd write a long story on Tumblr as a non-whiskey-based way to decompress. It's worked a little bit. Listening to John Robins and Jason Isbell is genuinely helping though, saying here are some other people who agree that not drinking alcohol is a good idea, even though it used to seem like a really really good idea. Thank you Tumblr for giving us a website for just writing whatever the hell you like any time you like. Hope everyone is having a nice day.

[charlezarrd]

🎮📚🎶💯🌈❤️💔💙🍔☕️🤔🧐🤓😓😞 for ALL CHARACTERS IN GIGACROSS (I’m kidding that would take a month, dealer’s choice of OC)

For this ask, I’ll be using Abel Kneller, a character from SHY.

Abel is a fifteen year old boy, the (adoptive) son of a powerful russian mafia family, who’s father decided he was done with crime, and moved the whole family out to a cabin in the woods.

Abel’s major character influences are The Son from Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number, The Beast from Over The Garden Wall, and Andrew W.K.

🎮— what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies?

Given the setting and nature of SHY, he sort of has to be into video games. He also reads a fair amount, specifically horror of all kinds. However he does not enjoy horror movies and prefers action/thriller movies.

📚 — what level of education has your oc most recently completed/is currently in (GED, undergraduate, grad school, phd, etc)?

Given that Abel is fifteen and lives in the woods, where he’s being homeschooled, there’s sorta your answer there.

🎶— what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

Abel listens to mainly Rock and Grunge, but occasionally EDM as well. He owns an electric guitar but doesn’t know how to play.

💯 — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

A part of his influence from The Beast is that he has an amazing singing voice.

Abel’s love of horror and action is an expression of his cowardice, because of the numerous deeply-held phobias that he has. He should probably see a therapist, but again. Middle of the fucking woods.

A lot of Abel’s moveset is named after things from Hotline Miami or Andrew W.K.’s music.

🌈 — what is your oc's sexual orientation/gender identity? what pronouns do they use?

Abel is straight, demisexual, and uses he/him pronouns. Unfortunately, he is terrified of betrayal so he hasn’t built up enough of a connection with anyone to experience attraction.

❤️— what are three of your oc's positive traits?

Taking a pass on this, too difficult, sorry.

💔— what are three of your oc's negative traits?

Cowardly, Violent, and Gullible.

💙 — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world?

So many. Like actually it would be really hard to list them, so I’ll just go with two: Abel can override reality with itself by refusing to believe a particular reality warping ability happened, essentially causing it to not have happened. Wanna cast fireball on him? You can’t do that, he doesn’t believe in it.

Second, is that he has an invisible circle around him at a 25 foot radius, that when enemies step outside of it in combat, he can teleport in front of them.

🍔 — is your oc good at cooking? are they good at baking? which one do they prefer?

I don’t think Abel’s good at cooking but I don’t think he’s bad either. Like he could probably bake a potato. Which isn’t a high benchmark but. It’s a benchmark.

☕️ — does your oc prefer coffee, tea, hot chocolate, milk, water, or some other drink? how do they like to take this drink (ex. coffee with milk, hot chocolate with whipped cream, a specific kind of tea, etc)?

Knowing how jittery Abel is, he probably downs like 6 or 7 energy drinks a day. I’m not sure if he even tastes them.

🤔— what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?

I’m not sure I need to answer this with all the other stuff I’ve got. He probably cracks his knuckles a lot though. That’s not that quirky.

🧐— is your oc more logical or emotional?

Oh emotional for sure. Mostly fear.

🤓 — is your oc chatty or quiet? are they at ease in social situations, or are they more shy?

Quiet. In social situations, he’s usually too shy to open up, and it takes a while. Given that he starts as an antagonist.

😓 — is your oc open-minded or stubborn? are they inquisitive or do they prefer to keep to their bubble of knowledge?

Stubborn as hell, not even a little curious.

😞— does your oc attract others, or do they tend to be left alone?

Well, he’d LOVE to be left alone, but given that he’s a minor antagonist and in charge of a significant location in the plot, people won’t leave him the hell alone.

#Skaia Hates You #Soleia Hates You #My Writing #Ask Games #Backspin #OCs

[honestandveiled]

Part I - Spinach Lasagne

The first thing I noticed about him was the tattoos on his fingers when he served me my spinach lasagne. Yum, I thought to myself referring to the fingers. I live right across the restaurant and I come here every evening and order the same thing but those fingers are new. I usually bring my papers in a binder to read while I eat and stay a little longer and watch people. I look up to see the fingers' owner, new guy. He's got these chiseled arms, dishelved curls and sheen of hardwork on his face. He looked distracted. I smile at him and thank him, trying to hide my perving. Oh God, its been so long since I've gotten laid. Im perving on random guys who are serving me food. Ever since I started my PhD program, I barely had time for anything else - which is also why I get my dinner at this place everyday - its cheap and delicious and I'm too busy to cook. 

He nods in acknowledgment with a slight smile. Bon appetit he says and leaves. Usually I never stay until the place closes because id like to give the staff their space while closing it up, today however, I wanna see him again, even if it's just briefly. I had my papers to keep me company. Unconsciously curling my hair with my fingers with one hand and using the other to fidget with my pen, I was deeply engrossed in my papers. I only looked up because I noticed a sound at the counter - there he was. There's nobody else around. It was closing time. I lost track of time, I apologize and try to organize my mess of papers and ready to get up. 

"Um-uh you can actually stay longer if you'd like? I mean-n, we are closed but ill be around to finish up some cleaning and stuff. you're welcome to stay."

"You sure?

"Yeah, you look like you're in the zone with your work and I won't be done for another 45 mins so you're fine until then."

 "Thank you, that's so considerate! But that's okay ill head home - I need some coffee anyway." I know they don't sell coffee and I feel bad for imposing without buying anything extra.

"I can make you some coffee. God knows I could use a coffee and cigarette before my cleaning" 

"Huh. I didnt realize you folks sold coffee"

"Oh we dont. But I can make you one"

"Aw, thanks! Can you let me pay for it at least?"

"Do you smoke?"

"Mhm" I nod, embarrassed of my infinite attempts at quitting. In fact I successfully quit before I started my phd only to pick it back up. 

"You can pay me in company when I'm done making the coffee" 

--- 

We are standing at the back of the building in the biting cold, with the coffee warming our fingers and cigarette smoke our faces. 

"I'm y/n btw."  I extend my hand.

"Carmy". He closes in. Those fingers again. 

"Im actually a regular" 

"Oh I know. Spinach lasagne. You know I have like 8 other things on the menu right?" 

"Haha what can I say? The chef in there knows what theyre doing.  Id marry them for the lasagne" 

He laughed. "No, im serious. This is most pleasure I've experienced carnally in literally 10 months. Thank your chef for me - the lasagne has been a sex replacement for a poor ol phd student." Ugh I'm so horny its showing. I should probably shut up.

He blushed, blowing smoke from his mouth. "The chef's probably super deprived himself and uses food as a replacement too"

"What if the chef is deriving his talent from deprivation". We are talking about sex (or the lack thereof) very nonchalantly and I need to get used to it but my vagina is screaming. 

"Or- or - or hear me out. What if he actually gets a real good fucking and and - " he pauses and laughs "actually i have nothing to add. I think he needs some fucking"

"Id fuck him" i say without thinking. Clearly we are not talking about the chef anymore

"Right now?" He asks coming tad bit closer. 

"Right now." 

He comes closer, kissing me desparetely, lifting my thigh to wrap it around him. I can feel him grow against me while he's thrusting into me. I pull his curls closer and moan. 

"Inside. Now"

We sloppily move through the kitchen dropping our clothes as we head to an office thats dimly lit and scattered with papers. He pushes some papers to clear some space and puts me on the desk. He tries to go down on me. I pull him by his curls stopping him.

"Um-uh im very hairy down there. Havent exactly planned for this"

"Even better" he replies and goes to town. I bite my lip, conscious of my moaning sounds

"I like it when you're loud. Tell me how much you want this"

"Oh please keep going, i want you so bad."

He's moaning while he's eating me. "That feels so good. Please keep going", I mumble between my moans. He is flicking his tongue on my clit so firm and hard that it almost kills me, then he digs his finger into me while sucking on my clit. 

"Tell me what you want" he demands.

"This is so good. Keep going". Im going feral!

"Tell me or ill stop" he says almost pulling out his finger".

I let out a small cry. "Fuck me with more fingers!"

"Tell me how"

"Harder!"

He adds one more finger and fucks me really hard and fast with them. 

"More?" He asks and before I could say anything, "of course you'd want more, don't you my poor ol desperate student?" He mocks.

"Tell me exactly how many" he asks using the same demanding voice

"All your fingers. Please"

"I knew it" he quickly changes his stance to fist me hard and lifts his head up close and sucks on tongue and biting my lip lightly. I hold him tightly by his hair while he's fisting the daylights out of me. "You're driving me crazy" I breathe into his mouth. He kisses harder

"Ready to be fucked?" He asks almost earnestly

"Not yet. My turn" I try to grab his cock

"We are fucking. Im going to go inside you and thats the way this works"

"Nope. You don't make all the rules here.'  I look at him sternly while I hold his cock tightly in my hand pulling him towards me. Touching his balls lightly while I hold his length hard. He holds my jaw tightly "You wanna play hard? I could do hard" he says and before he could do anything I push him back to the wall, get on my knees and put him in my mouth. 

He moans as I suck on his tip and squeeze his ass towards me, lightly touching between his cheeks. He stands there accepting temporary defeat. I look him in the eye and say. "Grab my hair and make me go at the speed you'd like"

He uses my mouth to fuck hard and fast as I make glucking noies. "Fuck. You're so hot." 

He pulls my head away from his and brings me to his lips. "I need to be inside you." He pauses before he says "please" 

I kiss him back while he puts me back on the counter. I put my legs over his shoulders but he holds them by the ankles and moves them above my head and fucks me like its his last. When he finally comes he lets out one last groan and drops his head into my chest and gives small kisses. I kiss him on his face, my legs shaking visibly. He laughs and rubs my thighs along the sides and kisses them  "sh sh calm down. You did so good" I laugh a little embarrassed by my legs. 

"Water?"

"Water." I reply 

"I'll be back" he comes back with a glass of water for both of us. He kisses me with his water filled mouth. Spitting into mine and slowly moves away while I quench my thirst.

He drops a mattress on the floor 

"You had a mattress all along?"

"Sorry yeah." He runs his fingers through the back of his head sheepishly. "Got carried away. Come lie beside me"

Our naked backs to the floor we look up while he plays with my long curly hair while I his tattooed fingers. 

"Whats your phd in?" He asks 

"Computer science. Specifically machine learning. Statistical modelling that kind of thing"

"Tell me more"

"Some other night. Tell me about your finger tattoos"

"I got them when i was in juvie. Don't mean much now. Some other night"

We lie in silence and slowly drift away to sleep.

 -- 

An alarm goes off around 4.30 am. 

"Fuck!shit! Im sorry arrghh" he curses while trying to shut it down. I make sleepy noises and see his face looking at me.

"Darling. Hey- hey mwah, darling. I've got to leave now. Okay? Got some errands to run". I nod trying to make sense of my surroundings. 

"Im really sorry but you probably should too. My crew is gonna come in a couple of hours." I stretch my body while he runs his fingers against me and kisses my stomach. 

"What errands at..."I look at the watch "..4.30 in the morning?"

"Gotta pick up produce for today. Need spinach for your lasagna" he smiles 

"What kind of chef makes his waiter get produce at 4 in the morning and clean up at the end of the day?" I ask while we are putting on clothes. I steal a last kiss on his bare back before he puts his shirt on. 

"The chef who is deprived, remember? Actually not anymore apparently"

"You're the chef?" I laugh thinking we are still joking "why were you waiting tables?" 

"Short staffed yesterday"

"You're being serious? Omg. I said stupid things about the chef, sorry"

"I did too. Don't be sorry. It's all true. Ill walk you home?"

"Yes please". 

#carmy smut #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you

[spiremire]

6 months in Interior Alaska

In August I moved 3500 miles north from Los Angeles-ish to Interior Alaska for a PhD program. This was the most nerve wracking thing I’ve ever done and also one of the most exciting. When I talk to friends and family about having moved up here, it’s pretty clear they’re picturing me living in a cabin in the woods, fending off bears and somehow a university fits in there, somewhere. Like Alaskan Bush People, with a random college campus thrown in.

Sometimes, they’ve got the right idea. But never for the reasons they think. There’s lots of stuff that’s hard to get up here. That means everything purchased in the state of Alaska comes with a hidden shipping cost built into the market price of the item. When you’re paying nearly twice as much for fresh meat and produce in the stores than the folks living in the lower 48, it’s no question why so many locals turn to hunting and foraging to stock their pantries. Yes, even the ‘city folk’. (I live in the largest urban center in Interior Alaska, but there’s only like 33,000 people living in the city limits. I think that’s what most people would qualify as a small town.)

In terms of hunting and foraging, I wouldn’t even know where to start. No one is ever willing to share where their berry spots or mushroom spots are, and I can’t eat fish and have no interest in getting a hunting license for something bigger. I don’t even have hunting experience to make something larger feasible.

Regardless of price, there’s still some things that I just can’t get up here. Furniture stores like Ikea and Wayfair make no selfsame effort to get their products up here, not even for exorbitant shipping costs. (Usually you have to pay exorbitant shipping costs to a third party package forwarding service, or something similar, instead.) There’s a Target in Anchorage, but Anchorage is 7 hours away on a good (not icy) day. I’ve been making do with Wal-Mart, but it’s not the same and I’m not thrilled about it. Amazon usually charges extra for shipping, because I never buy anything on Amazon I can get in a store, and that usually ends up being weird, bulky items because I am perpetually unlucky.

Speaking of big grocery chains, we only have 4. We have Wal-Mart, Fred Meyer, Safeway, and Costco. These are all the biggest single stores I’ve ever seen in my life and have enough departments they’re almost individual mini-malls. Except the Costco. Costco is the same everywhere. I think I’ve already mentioned being afraid to go into the Wal-Mart and that I just use online order pick-up instead? Yeah. Yikes.

A related aside: Over spring break, which was a couple weeks ago now, we had a few researchers from Portugal visit us so they could get samples at a few of the thermokarst lakes nearby, and they had a pretty miserable mishap with their luggage where all their clothes got lost in Frankfurt, Germany (their first connection), but all their sampling materials arrived just fine. So we ended up taking them to Wal-Mart to get them a few basics, and they’d never been in a Wal-Mart. They also found it entirely overwhelming and I feel vindicated. Anyway.

The familiar-national-chain pickings are slim, whether I’m looking for groceries, fast-food, or another specialty store. This isn’t to say that everything I need isn’t available. Because it is. If you can’t get it for closer-to-lower-48 prices at a national chain store, you can definitely get it from some local supplier. Only problem is, the local suppliers can charge whatever they want, because there’s no competition. Is that good for them? Yes! Absolutely. I love small businesses, and I love that this area allows them to thrive. Is it good for me? Hell no. I don’t make enough as a student to justify going out to eat more than once a month, or once every two months if I’m going to a sit-down restaurant, where the cheapest plate is somewhere between $20-25. Which is rough.

But I don’t only have complaints! There’s so many things I love about here, so far, and in the big picture, I feel like my complaints don’t even begin to outweigh the benefits. I’ve gotten a million opportunities I’d never have gotten anywhere else to do cool stuff. I got to go ice climbing, touch three million year old dirt at the bottom of a permafrost tunnel, see so many excellent showings of aurora borealis, dodge moose and bears and caribou with my car, feel -45F, or experience a full 24 hours of darkness.

I’m having a blast, but sometimes the little things make me feel more like I’m living in the woods. (Don’t get me started on the dry cabin situation up here.)

A lot of it can be mitigated by simply going to these places while I’m visiting my family in the lower 48, but I only see them once a year because I’m so busy and flights are so expensive.

#feel free to ignore #this is just me word vomiting about my new location

[emilyrosediary]

Hi lovelies, my name is Emily Rose!! I’m starting this blog post on January 2, 2023. Why on a random Monday did I start a blog? Well, hello to anyone this post happens to reach. Butterfly thoughts is a place for my words. A place where I can share my mental health journey, my thoughts on life, and my journey as I exit my teenage years and venture into my twenties. A place I have to look back on and watch my growth. My digital diary. So thanks so much for stopping by, it's lovely to have you!!

Although this blog was started for me, it's for anyone reading this as well.  It's for those who feel completely lost, those who aren't sure how they'll ever recover, those who are content with where they are at, and those who want to grow out of their cocoon. It's truly a space of healing for me and hopefully for you too. 

Though I'd start by sharing my mental health journey in just 2022 (we'll peek back to years prior later on). I started January of 2022 home like every other college student. Spending time with my family, my friends, my church family, and fearing the upcoming semester. I had a picture perfect life from the outside. A seemingly good relationship, good friends who supported and missed me while I was away, an incredible family who loved and cheered me on. Yet, life isn't always as cookie cutter as the outside appearance makes it seem. Internally I was struggling a lot: I stopped taking my medication, I distracted myself to avoid how I was feeling, and I had been out of therapy for way too long. I often refer to this as my caterpillar stage, going through the motions of life without thinking anything else could change, this just is what life is. I returned to university a few weeks later to begin my spring semester. I would consider my load average for a student at my university but with a double major and a minor I felt the load on my plate. It became a lot for me to handle. I quickly began to neglect my friends, stopped eating almost entirely, and skipped class often. I ended up going through a long distance breakup valentines day of 2022. That was the last straw for me; unfortunately, the spiral continued to worsen. February 15th, 2022 was the first time I had held a razor to my skin in my dorm shower. Crying quietly almost the entire day everyday, pretty much never leaving my dorm room, and continuing to harm my body everyday. I had called my mom to tell her I wasn’t doing good and wanted to come home for a visit. She reminded me how strong I was and that I could handle this. About a week later I realized I had been suffering in silence and I wouldn’t survive this episode unless I got help.

So that day I called our college crisis center. It was terrifying. I have heard so many horror stories about horrible things happening in these kinds of offices. But it was a life or death situation. That day I was referred to the campus social worker who told me it would be best to take medical withdrawal from the university till I was better than I could return in the fall semester with a doctor's approval. I sat in her office bawling in disbelief. How did I become such a danger to myself? We are talking about the girl who had her head down grinding to have a PhD in exactly eight years. The one who had spent forever dreaming about college, poured her soul into choosing the correct university, and the girl who worked to give herself the best community while she was there. We called my dad, discussed the options, and then my mom was taking the hour and a half drive to come pick me up. I spent three hours in that tiny office waiting to collect the essentials and leave my college town for the semester. I had some of my friends come and pray over me while I was there and I am forever grateful for them prioritizing me when they had a million other things going on in their lives. I was texting my roomie/best friend the entire time, she was the most reassuring person through all of this and truly my biggest cheerleader.

My mom arrived and we headed down a few blocks to grab my things from the dorm I loved so much. My sweet sweet friends were all there to help me and to say goodbye. All I remember from that whirlwind of an hour was my roommate crying and hugging me as I promised to get better, knowing that girl was my best friend and my rock and we'd never not be friends even if I wasn’t 50 feet away. We began the drive home, except it wasn't home it was to a hospital so I could be admitted for mental health treatment. I cried most of the way there and assured my mom it was just suicidal ideations and i just needed some help. We arrived and got admitted which is where my mom found out I had been harming myself. I watched my parents' hearts break as I told them the whole truth for the first time. I was admitted to the inpatient mental health program at about midnight. I don’t remember a lot of treatment but it was the start of my cocoon stage. I had sheltered myself away as I realized there was more to life than going through the motions and I was meant for more. I spent roughly nine weeks in treatment. I learned a lot about myself (but i'll end up making an entire post strictly off what I learned in outpatient treatment).

I quickly began seeing a therapist and making sure to meet every other month with my psychiatrist to regulate my meds. By April 2022, I began a new job that I loved. I got back into the toxic relationship that I thankfully got out of a few months later for good. I had one friend at home but was good about keeping up with my very busy college friends. I was back to being super active in church and felt myself coming back to life. I felt the cocoon releasing me. In June I turned 19 and by August I had decided college wasn’t for me. After working at the salon for roughly five months, I decided I wanted to continue on a cosmetology career path. This shocked everyone in my life but it was truly one of the best decisions I could have made for myself. The cocoon had released me from its comforting hold and I began to grow into who I wanted to be. At the start of cosmetology school in September, I had no friends at home, I was single, I desperately missed my life at college (not my studies, just my friends and independence), and wasn't sure what was going to happen. At orientation I met the best girl who quickly became my best friend, she felt like someone I should've known my entire life. I began being fueled with so much passion at school and what I was working on and felt pure love from working on my hair all day to going to the salon to work at night. It is weeks full of busy days but I feel myself loving almost every second of it. That's not to say I didn't end 2022 with struggles but it ended with more good than bad. I truly felt myself GROW this year and it was incredible.

Ok so that was a really long explanation of how we got here: the second day of 2023. But I think it's important to see where you start. And that was my starting point. 

The main message I want to share is that you are loved beyond measure and more than is comprehensible. You are special, you matter, and that does not change. EVER! You have a beautiful life ahead of you. And to the person crying on their shower floor with a blade in your hand, don't. It does get better. I am living proof that we do change, we do grow, and we do become the best versions of ourselves. Sometimes the wings get heavy and I need to rest, but I don't stop. It's never too late to keep growing. I love you, and if you need a reason to stay today stay with me. You woke up this morning for a reason. Don't lose yourself, you beautiful beautiful butterfly. 

[willowcrowned]

For your commentary ask thingy:

"Obi-Wan smiles an impish smile, something Qui-Gon has seen countless times before, but here, in the light of the amber sea, with his world slowly turning upside down, it strikes him right between the ribs, straight through his heart, and he realizes something much, much, more dangerous than that Obi-Wan is beautiful—

Qui-Gon is in love with him.

It is a strange, perilous thing to realize, all the more alluring for the impossibility of his escape. The earth has not shifted beneath his feet, the galaxy does not spin differently— not as it had when Obi-Wan was gone. There is no change except that he knows. And if that is true— if the only change is him— then he has been in love with Obi-Wan for a long, long time."

I love this passage, and it has to be my favourite fic as well!! I love everything about Before I Knew I Had Begun, but I'd love to see your DVD commentary

Also you're not the only one a little tipsy lol I'm waiting to hear back about a scholarship for my PhD 😬😬

okay first off good luck on the scholarship!!!! that's such a nerve-wracking position to be in I hope everything works out for you!! second, thank you! It's VERY weird to hear that people like that fic (though even more welcome than weird) because I really go back and forth on it all the time. It was really only meant to be a fun stress relief fic I could dump some random scene ideas and dynamics into for fun, but I ended up actually working on it in a serious enough way that I started caring genuinely about the quality, and now a year on parts of it make me cringe. It's one of those things that just happens when you grow as a writer, so there is some good in seeing how I'd do it differently now, but I've never been under the impression that it's particularly liked, which makes the experience of keeping it up a bit worse. Hearing that people like it—that there's something really enjoyable about it (even if I can't see it) and that there's a good reason to keep it attached to my account—is really good to hear.

Now on to the commentary:

As I said, this fic was really just meant to be a jumble of scenes I wrote down for fun. The inciting one—or at least the first one I had in my head—was the flashback with the eyeliner, and I'd had it since December of 2020. It was the first one I wrote down, followed shortly by the yelling Obi-Wan does when Qui-Gon comes to find him in the third scene. The yelling is where I finally got an idea of what the overarching conflict could be, and realized I had the basis of a plot. The fragment here is, of course, the climax of that plot, where the second of the two conflicts finally comes to head.

While I was writing it, I was mostly thinking about the way it needed to incorporate the already resolved conflict—the miscommunication about Obi-Wan's place in Qui-Gon's life—into his realization. The fic is about Qui-Gon's assumptions, the way he lets things get by him when he thinks he knows what's going on, so him realizing what he's been missing is supposed to display the growth that's occurred after his discussion with Obi-Wan in the third scene. Qui-Gon here knows that Obi-Wan is important to him. He knows that he wants Obi-Wan in his life. What he's missing is the specific context for that desire—that he wants Obi-Wan in a romantic and sexual capacity as well as in the deeper, more important platonic way.

One of my struggles with this climax was how easy it was, because my instincts were telling me to make it difficult, to make it long and drawn out and hard to work through. But it actually needs to be easy, because Qui-Gon has already done the work—he's just waiting on the context. The first part of that context is the realization that Obi-Wan is beautiful, that he's attracted to Obi-Wan. The snippet you've chosen is the second, logical half of that. Now that he's accepted the attraction, he can accept there's yet another dimension of his desire he's been blind to: romantic love. Like Qui-Gon says: what Obi-Wan is doing is something he's done countless times before. It's just the context of his own knowledge that's different.

The first half of the fic is about Qui-Gon shaping the world around him. The second half is about Qui-Gon understanding the world he's shaped. This here is that resolution—him finally understanding what's been going on for year's, and accepting that's what's happened.

The other big thing in my head while I was writing this bit is that Qui-Gon absolutely Had to figure out he was in love while he was being made fun of, bc that man has the most weirdly developed sense of pride I've ever seen. blame dooku, I guess.

#btw i'm SO sorry if this is rambly and makes no sense blame it on the vodka #ask game replies #anon #dvd commentary #willow writes #quiobi

[greatwyrmgold]

Beat & Motion & Dreams

So, Beat & Motion seems to be establishing a major theme, one that fits the other stuff it's been doing pretty well. Tatsuhiko gave his animation dream another shot after his band fell through, and he was rewarded with a chance to keep doing animation professionally.

And this hits a personal spot for me.

There were a lot of great anime in 2021, but Aquatope on White Sands was my personal favorite. It's about an idol whose idol dreams fell apart, was given a chance to work at a struggling aquarium, and found joy in it. It aired when I was realizing my dream of becoming a biologist had failed, and was trying to find the joy in accounting work. (Which does exist, depending on the job, but that's a topic for another post.)

My point is, B&M is taking a radically different perspective than Aquatope. Aquatope is about realizing that you don't need to follow your childhood dreams to find happiness. B&M is about rediscovering your childhood dreams, vague as they might be.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a biologist. That's it, "a biologist." I wanted to be a scientist who studies animals and stuff. I never really questioned this dream, I merely iterated on it. My plan was simple: Get a basic biology degree, find some entry-level biology work to figure out exactly what I wanted to do, get a graduate degree in that field, get a better job. I failed step 2, and that's why I'm in accounting school now.

Maybe if I'd picked a field, stuck through several more years of school, and gotten a PhD or something, I could have been a biologist. Maybe that would have worked. But maybe not, and I don't think I would have done it without foreknowledge. I thought I had a dream, but I kinda didn't.

That's the thing about dreams. They're not bound to reality.

The freedom of dreams can be a good thing, but it also makes dreams hard to act on. I couldn't become "a biologist" without a more specific, more grounded idea of what that might entail...and I never got that idea. I would have basically needed an opportunity handed to me.

Luckily for Tatsuhiko, that opportunity came in the form of Nico. On one hand, she literally provides an opportunity for Tatsuhiko to follow his dream, in the sense that she hires him to animate her music video. On the other hand, she also pushes him to pursue his dream.

Nico is dreaming unhindered, not worrying about practicality or tact or anything. Tatsuhiko wants to be an animator, so he should be an animator—and he should try to be the best d**n animator possible, the most skilled, the most successful.

From a plot utility perspective, this makes Nico a bit of a manic pixie dream girl. But she doesn't just wander into Tatsuhiko's life and start making things better just because. She only wants to work with Tatsuhiko because he posted that random butterfly animation. Tatsuhiko took the first step himself, of his own volition, moving himself towards his near-forgotten dream and away from the practical yet dull reality of...a failing rock band?

In case you'd forgotten, Tatsuhiko's job before the animation thing was as the bassist in a crappy band. It lasted a few years, but broke up right before Tatsuhiko listened to a drunk woman rant at him. That lead to him digging out his old drawings, animating on a whim, etc etc.

But before that, he was in a band. A failing band. So on one hand, Tatsuhiko didn't have much to lose by pursuing his dream, which isn't a broadly applicable truth. (Contrast, say, Recovery of an MMO Junkie; Morihito chose to give up a high-paying office job to play MMOs.)

But there's a more fundamental issue here. Bands are also a common dream, an artistic endeavor which few people can turn into an actual career. So why was Tatsuhiko's animation dream successful and his band dream a failure?

I wish I could say I expected this question to be explored in later chapters, but I don't think the band has come up once since chapter 1. Analysis of this question is limited to chapter 1, which doesn't go into much detail. And the detail provided isn't great. There's plenty of framing suggesting that the band is a bad dream, but I can only find one possible reason which makes any sense.

Tatsuhiko's band dream wasn't a "real" dream, because it was forced on him by an outside source. He was talked into his band dream—which, to be clear, was genuinely held. He gets excited about it, just not in the first few panels after he's recruited.

Contrast this with his animation dream, which sprang fully-formed out of the forehead of Zeus...

...or not. It's also the result of someone telling him he should be an animator, this time an old animator giving a presentation at his school. Which is probably a good thing, because it means I don't have to try and litigate the difference between a dream that comes from "inside" and one that comes from "outside". Your insides are shaped by the outside world, after all!

So if that's not it, what's the difference? A few possibilities:

Is it honesty? As far as we know, the animator was just being nice and didn't mean it, while all indications point to the band members being genuine. So...probably not.

Is it initial excitement? Probably not; that's just an absurdly superficial reason to judge a dream "real" or not. It's probably just another way to frame one dream as "good" and the other as "bad," not the reason one is good.

Is it ulterior motive? The band members convince Tatsuhiko to join the band for extrinsic rewards, while the animator doesn't have any apparent motive at all. I guess that's not nothing, but it's barely there.

Did the author, knowing that the band was just a distraction for Tatsuhiko and not his Real Dream, not actually bother to explain why?

I think that the last factor is, at least, a significant component. Beat & Motion isn't terrible—it has its strengths, a clear artistic vision, and a solid idea of how to execute that vision—but it's no masterpiece.

The underdeveloped "band dream" thing isn't a crippling flaw. Generally, an author can just show us that a thing in the protagonist's backstory is Not Good and expect the audience to accept this as true without having to explain why it's Not Good. And this is basically that.

The problem is that the Not Good Thing overlaps with something the story considers extremely good—chasing your dreams. It's not intentionally part of the series's thematic construction, but that doesn't mean it doesn't influence it. You can't write a story about following your dreams, throw in a band failing at their dreams, and not have the latter affect the former somehow.

I hope I'm wrong. I hope Beat & Motion circles back to the question of what dreams should be pursued and which should be abandoned, because that's a pretty significant question for a chase-your-dreams narrative. (And, you know, one that's raised by the protagonist abandoning one dream.)

But that's the state of things, three chapters in.

#hopefully this falls off my queue before chapter 4 drops #beat & motion #manga #meta #media analysis #dreams #themes #eighth-grade book reports

[thaoeatworld]

(Accidental) Hospital Ethnography

CW: Injury, mention of blood, strong language

It's amazing how time moves you. The way it allows you to somehow stare at yourself and your experiences from a distance and think, "I overcame that, this moment -- those moments, have passed me." Granted, I write these words from a multitude of distances. A distance of timing, a distance of emotion, and a distance based on a mixture of humor and irony. To be honest, I think it's the only way I can truly reflect on exactly what happened and how I eventually have gotten past it (thus far). There is still much left room for healing and closure, but that doesn't mean I can't reflect while I'm "in it".

This entry is about how I broke my leg on my third day in the Netherlands after deciding to take up my first academic role post-PhD.

As expected, my transition post-PhD was a bit of a blur. I spent the first few months post-PhD viva high on a specific blend of absolute joy, release, and looming job-market-anxiety. Indeed, my last few years were very much coloured with the darkest of all inks -- potential unemployment for the foreseeable future. Many fine academics I knew who had graduated with their PhDs in recent years confided with me (and many others) of their precarity and uninspiring job prospects, if any. The job boards for "anthropology" were scarce, and yet, I knew so many other anthropologists. I mostly wrote of the idea of ever entering the academy. It just wasn't meant for people like me, which was something I not only read in my graduate reading lists (because there were literally no papers authored by "people like me") but also what I experienced first-hand in predominantly white institutions I had studied and trained at.

Somehow, despite all of this, I landed my first academic position. I packed up my house in Torino, Italy and marched forth towards Maastricht, The Netherlands with a mild optimism. This was a chance for a new start, so I intended to start it off "right". I attended the departmental social events, made friends with strangers on a Flixbus, and decided that I would bond with the country the best way I knew how: to skate it!

Through a random string of social media connects, I got wind of the Dutch national chapter of CIB or "Communities in Bowls", a global aggressive roller skating movement. It'd been about 1.5 years into my "aggressive" skating; I've slowly made my way around concrete and wooden bowls, ramps, and the like. As I love to self-describe my style and prowess in skating, I'm pretty much "mediocre shred, existential dread" in physical form. I could do the oddly complex things (e.g. cart-wheeling into a 3m+ bowl) and yet some of the fundamentals (e.g. anything fakie/backwards) were lacking.

On the fateful night of September 2nd I made my way to Area 51, a massive skatepark in Eindhoven. I hopped on a train, met more strangers, skated for 2 hours of the 4 hour event, and briefly enjoyed myself. After attempting a trick I've done numerous times -- 360 jump -- I decided to take it a step further and do so off the metal coping of a small ramp. After trying it once, and landing it, I did what us skaters do best...I decided I would try it a second time.

There's a cute little rhyme we always say in my skate team Botte di Culo, "Two to make it true". It's not our phrase of course, but the wild internet world of roller skating made us privy. So I tried my best to do the trick a second time, and unfortunately for me, I fell, and I immediately knew something wasn't right.

It was a chaotic moment. I'd just moved to a new country, I'm skating a new park, I'm skating with new people, and I was skating with a roller skate set-up I don't normally skate in. Every component was different: the boot, the wheels, the trucks, the whole lot. In hindsight, a true recipe for injury and disaster. I'm still proud I managed to do a lot of fun things on skates, regardless.

Laying on the ground, swearing up a storm and complaining about how I would have to explain to my new colleagues that I had broken myself, the kind skaters of CIB Netherlands propped me up with some ice for the remainder of the event.

Being both embarrassed and stubborn, I convinced myself I was fine. I watched the other skaters zoom around the bowl and do all the tricks I wanted to do. I felt shattered, broken before I could even show everyone in the group that I could actually skate. It was miserable. In the end, I hobbled to the central train station with two new friends, and ignored my pain. By the time I arrived at the Maastricht central station, my leg/ankle area was horrendously swollen. I attempted to step down from the platform , only to basically fall to the platform and be caught by a kind stranger who had been watching me acutely try to navigate the descent on the train. He was just passing through Maastricht, but thoroughly convinced my very stubborn self to head to the hospital...which sits across the street from my current office.

I "walked" into the emergency room at about 1AM on September 3rd. It was quiet, nobody looming around. Two intake nurses, one relatively young, and the other noticeably older. The younger one looked a bit disturbed when I spoke to her, "So I think I've hurt my ankle, is it possible to have some treatment?"

She asks me if I called ahead to warn them that I was coming in. How odd, this is a fucking emergency room. It's not life-threatening, why the fuck would I be calling in? She asks me if I have a Dutch health card, I explain to her I do not because I've just arrived less than 3 days prior. She waves me into a partitioned area of the waiting room. There's automatic doors separating the treatment waiting area and the general waiting area. In the space, the intake nurse sat behind glass and spoke to me through an intercom. I assumed she led me here for more privacy, but perhaps it was protocol. It really felt like I was being sequestered, given I couldn't leave the space without her letting me with a touch of a button. Herein I stepped into the fantasy of what I taught and researched -- global health. Oh yes, if this was an opportunity to collect some insights about the country I just moved to that was especially tailored to my weirdo brain, this was it. Yes, I was hurt, and could barely walk, but my brain was sprinting.

Staring at her through the glass, I explain that I have Italian residency and that while I don't have a valid health card on me at that moment, I definitely have insurance and could supply the paperwork. We have this little bureaucracy dance for 20+ minutes. By the end, she's convinced that I have no semblance of EU healthcare so I'd have to pay a triage fee of 111 euros. I begrudgingly accept after she explains I can fix it later. I explain that my bank cards aren't working in-country thus far because it appeared that Dutch systems are very anti-Visa and Mastercard and I had no cash on me. She smiled and says, "don't worry we take credit!" Well, as someone who grew up in the U.S., that response was a bit too gleeful for my liking.

Throughout this entire process, I was not allowed to sit down. I asked the nurse if I could have something to sit on, given I had probably sprained/broken my ankle, and she brushed me off saying that "it wouldn't take long". I am in pain, my brain is not mine. Am I being unreasonable for asking for seating? Maybe my injury isn't as bad as I think? At the 30 minute mark since my arrival, the gatekeeper of health, my dear intake nurse, let me pass through.

I plop myself down on a waiting room couch. It's cold, I'm in shorts and a crop top because I was skating. I begin to shiver, and then just outwardly cry. I cry large tears through my N95 mask -- I attempt to avoid soaking it in the process. I think about how alone I am, how my my friends who I was texting about the injury as well as my partner were all so far from me. Why am I crying? I need to be strong. I study this, I know this. It's not that bad. I'm not sure what crying will accomplish at this time, I need to preserve my phone battery to manage important logistical things. I can't keep texting Antonio, Dunia, and Matt my every move and emotion. But oh god, I'm so alone. My pain is mine and yet when I share it, it becomes more manageable...and I can't do that right now.

About an hour later, a GP triages me. She is kind, gives me a large dose of paracetamol and asks me about myself. "Are you a student at the university?" No, I'm a new lecturer in global health actually. My office is across the street and I teach next door. She laughs at this, explaining the ridiculousness of the unfortunate situation is getting to her a bit. I don't take it personally. It was a very unexpected and astoundingly shitty situation. She explains I'll be getting an x-ray to see the damage exactly, but she confirms I've probably broken or sprained something for sure.

I finally get a wheelchair from a new nurse who came onto my case. She comments that she finds it weird that nobody immediately got me a wheelchair if it was under the suspicion that I had hurt my ankle or leg. The other two intake nurses from before stare at me like vultures through the glass as the new nurse wheels me into the x-ray area. Two technicians, both relatively young, one man one woman. The woman tech helps me with my backpack, placing it carefully in a different area as we do my scan.

I lay there, machines purring. I keep thinking about how hungry I am and how alienating this all feels. I am broken and they will put me back together again so I can work! I will overcome! I keep thinking about how I would tell Antonio about how eerily green/blue everything was and how it reminds of of a grand 80s cyberpunk fantasy. I am a human and I am machine. Hooked up with wires testing my movement yet required to be perfectly still. I think about the podcast my former-supervisor Stanley put out about his own trip to the hospital while ill. I internally cringed at the irony of the student following the teacher, especially in this way.

A few minutes pass and the two technicians walk over to me. I look at them, they look at me. "Well so you've broken a bone" one says. Oh? I reply. The other technician immediately follows up with "Yeah it's fucked up."

Wheeled into another room to meet the trauma surgeon. The nice nurse plugs in my phone so I can have some connection with the outside world. I doom-scroll to dissociate. 30 minutes pass. The trauma surgeon waltzes in with my scans. She points out bits of the scan on a computer monitor, but I wasn't wearing my glasses and was too overstimulated to process everything. "So you have broken your leg." MY LEG? I'm clearly confused. She gestures towards the scan again, and low behold...I had broken my leg. The fibula. Towards the ankle. Clean through.

She asks me what I was doing. I explain I was roller skating and fell. She asks me about if I was wearing protection. Absolutely, obviously. I reassure her I have no symptoms of concussion, I don't think I even hit my head. Lots of people were there and can confirm. We move on. She says I'll need a cast and my recovery would take at least a month with it.

Two new nurses come in. They prepare my leg to be placed in a cast. They clean off my leg, which I deeply encouraged because I was skating before and felt gross. They ask me what colour wrapping I want. "I get a choice?" I respond. "There's dark blue, white, and red". How patriotic.

Like a weird synchronised dance, they wrap my leg. The older nurse positions my leg in a particular way, 90 degree angle. I hate it, it hurts. She tells me to flex my toes or I'll mess up my entire healing process. I force my leg into that position with her help, while the other younger nurse wraps continuously. They pull out special pairs of scissors, they're huge. They cut the remaining material around my leg, shaping it to the contours. The sound of a really large, sharp, pair of scissors cutting near the surface of your skin is very unnerving, I will say. Afterwards, the older nurse leaves.

The younger nurse chats with me about my treatment regimen. She asks me if the doctor mentioned how I would need to have an injection. Yeah of course. I'm not worried, I'm not scared of needles or anything. "Oh great!" she chirps. She comes back with a syringe all prepared and proceeds to...hand it to me?

"Excuse me what? I have to do it?" I ask. "Yes you do! Every day until the doctor tells you to stop. It's an anti-coagulant. You won't be moving loads and we wouldn't want you to form clots."

So there I am, holding a syringe. It's like 3AM. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm hurting. And now I have to fucking stick myself in the stomach with a syringe? Is this was it's like to have chronic illnesses with injection meds? All the theory and ethnographies I've read couldn't have prepared me for this. I've shadowed different hospital wings with gruesome bits throughout my career. I've had my share of gore. I've had my share of injections for traveling, COVID-19 being the most recent series of injections. But for some reason, I couldn't wrap my head around sticking a needle into my stomach while someone was watching.

Sensing my hesitation, the nurse begins to encourage me through words. "It's very simple, don't worry. It doesn't hurt." After about 30 seconds of these instructions, I pinched a fold of my stomach and stuck the needle in. I pause, watching the liquid drain entirely. A hint of pink pops through, blood I imagine. MY BLOOD. AH. I remove the syringe. I somehow don't bleed out.

The older nurse returns, a kind face. I speculate about how intake nurses are supposed to be mean and the triage nurses were kind. They're mean at the door, but kind once you get in. Suddenly my analogy of them as gatekeepers of care feels more appropriate and less rude. The two nurses explain that I would need to purchase crutches and hold out a teal coloured pair. Ah, my favourite colour. How appropriate. These vanity details keep me sane for the remainder of the night.

I pay for a lot of things that night. Triage. Meds. Crutches. The taxi ride home. A couple hundred euros I didn't even need to spend, which pissed me off. The taxi driver is very sorry for me, he explains that I'll be stronger when I'm healed. That's what they always say. I mean, what the fuck else are you supposed to say.

I walk across the threshold of my front-door entrance, full cast with crutches, after 5 minutes of fiddling with my keys at 4AM. My neighbours probably hate me. I convince myself that if I can eat a snack, shower, and change into pajamas, I'll survive this experience. So I do those things. I shower balanced on one leg, using a trash bag to make sure it doesn't get wet. I eat whatever is deteriorating in my fridge. I lay in bed, I cry more, up until sleep takes me. The exhaustion of dealing with an unexpected injury and a crash-course into the Dutch health system was overwhelming.

#medical anthropology #broken bone #ethnography #anthropology #hospitals #doctors #patients #medicine #blog #postdoc #postphd #phd #academia