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#at some point in my grad career

octuscle · 20 days

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Support, the stupid app isn’t working. I’m a grad student competing with a friend of mine for an internship and I can’t risk him stealing my career, so I thought I’d give him a new line of work. I don’t want to steal his youth or make him ugly or anything, I just need him out of the way, so I scanned a guy in his 20s too (some dumbass construction worker, shaved head, tats, didn’t seem too bright - let’s just say he looked like he preferred the gym to an office, not the kind of guy who’s gonna steal my internship) and told the app to start the transformation. Problem is my friend hasn’t changed at all. He’s sitting right next to me and looks exactly the same, and meanwhile I’m getting a headache trying to sort this out. Did I do something wrong, bro? Uh, support, I mean-

Bruh, did you write this support request yourself? Or did someone help you with it? I mean, the statement about the student must have been an oversight. You? At a university? I would never have thought that you could be too stupid even for the job of a mover. But I'm sorry to have to say it: You really are just very stupid! You're lucky that you have a colleague who has experience and who will do the thinking for you as long as you regularly suck his cock in the removal van. And secondly, apart from your atrophied brain, you have everything you need for the job of a removal man…

You've got the muscles to get stuck in. You're young and independent. You have the looks that make every customer melt away. And you spread the male musk that affects your victims like a narcotic. So you can get anything you want: The best jobs, the most generous clients and the best fast sex. On the loading area between moving boxes. In the almost empty apartments before you even load the mattresses. Or sometimes in the toilet of a service station. You are hot. And always horny. And now you want a few more IQ points? Or what's your problem? Forget it. You're perfect for your career, we won't change that…

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #race change #ai image

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wrenreid · 7 months

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Off Limits

Part Twenty-Seven

My freshman year of high school, I was put into a junior level government class. I was only in there because it was the only class that fit into my schedule other than ag classes I couldn’t have been less interested in. I didn’t talk much in the class because everyone was older than me, and they thought I was a kiss up because i always made good grades. I didn’t particularly love the class, but of course, I still did my work and did it well.

Toward the end of the year, we did a mock trial. We drew for positions within the trial, mr flynn the judge. I drew attorney.

The case was a business lawsuit, I was the lawyer who was going against the business for their supposed cruel acts.

Mr. Flynn told us that we would receive extra credit if we dressed up, so me, a fourteen year old with a desperate need for academic validation, borrowed one of my mother’s pencil skirts and a suit jacket from my dad. I looked like a mini Aaron Hotchner, even my mom said so.

I remember preparing for the trial for at least a week, being a little excited about the project. I wanted to win the case, especially since I was, as I believed, on the right side of the law.

My opposing attorney was Noah Kincaid. He was a smart but cocky kid who also cared about winning the trial.

I remember standing up from my desk when is was my turn to ask questions to the kid under oath. I felt as though I had stepped into myself for the first time. It was just a mock trial that lasted half an hour, but I felt proud and confident. I was good at it.

Mr. Flynn pulled me aside after class and told me I should consider law school in the future. He said, and I quote, “The way you handled yourself was the most confident and concise I’ve ever seen in a student. You surprised me, Hotchner.”

I didn’t take it to offense that he said my skills surprised him. In his defense, he’d only heard me talk when I turned in a paper or answered a question, which the latter was usually rare since I didn’t particularly like to “show off” in front of juniors who already thought I was a kiss ass.

I did, however, take his first sentence as a compliment. I was confident and my statements and questions were concise.

I smiled, nodded, thanked him, then left. A lawyer was not on my top five career choices at the time. I didn’t want people to think I was doing it because of my father. I was definitely not. But after some research and a few binge watches of crime shows, I knew I actually did want to be an attorney. Not because of my father but almost in spite of him.

My dad quit his job as a lawyer and took the job Agent Gideon offered him at the BAU. I resented him for it, still do, but that’s besides the point. He wasn’t around much in my most influential years, and at fourteen, I decided I would be a lawyer, and if I happened to have a family, I wouldn’t take a new job that prevented me from being there for them.

So now, I’m currently four weeks away from grad school and three years away from the BAR. And I’m going to rock the shit out of them both. Because I can and because I’m determined. It’s also way less about my unresolved daddy issues now than it was in high school and even some of college, it’s a dream of mine.

Spencer has made it his mission to make sure I enjoy the last month of summer as much as I can. He’s taken me out on a million dates like picnics, movies, late night drives around the city and out into the country, and more every chance he gets between cases.

At least now we don’t have to sneak around and lie about our relationship. Though I was prepared to keep this from my dad for however long necessary, I’m pretty glad we accidentally outed ourselves at my graduation dinner.

My dad cooked a big meal for me, some family, friends, and we invited the team too. Spencer and I didn’t even sit near each other. We barely talked the whole dinner just to be safe.

But as love-sick, horny couples do, when we saw an opportunity to take a minute alone, we did just that.

Having your father catch you making out with a guy will never not be awkward, but when the guy happens to be his employee, it’s fucking weird.

Though, I will say, the look on his face was priceless. I’ve hardly seen him have that much emotion on his face.

After a very awkward, flushed-face, and stuttered explanation from Spencer and me, we were able to calm my father down. He was a lot more excepting than I expected; I think he finally realized he can’t dictate my life, and he saw how happy we are together.

The rest of that dinner consisted of a lot of teasing from Derek Morgan, my brother being grossed out by me having a boyfriend, and everyone asking about law school.

I’m excited and anxious to start the rest of my life as a law student. I’ve prepared for this for nearly 8 years now, and I’m getting closer and closer to my dream career. It’s terrifyingly exciting. I’m grateful to have my family and Spencer by my side through all of this.

hey, so this is it for this story! this is also most likely it for my fanfiction in general.

and for a little life update: i started college a month ago, and i’m adjusting to my new life which has been interesting and scary and fun. im also in a healthy relationship and have been for a while which has been pretty amazing. i hope all my mutuals/ readers are doing well. thank you guys for sticking around :)

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @daydreamingqueen1 @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @jazzerbelle14 @kylakins88 @f-me-reid @lovejules888 @marimorena06 @daph-421 @idkusername8787

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

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WIBTA If I told my neighbour (40 F) to stop sending her kid (9 M) to my (24 M) house whenever I come home?

Long story short last summer I was an unemployed grad student who wanted to make some extra cash. I am a certified swim instructor, so I decided to run some lessons for the neighbourhood kids out of my parents’ backyard. I advertised around and I got a few bites and I ended up doing fairly well for myself between my classes at Uni, with around 7 different family’s joining my lessons.

Well now I’ve graduated and I’ve started a career job around 2 hours away. This summer I have been coming home almost every weekend so I can see my family and use the pool, which has been a really nice break from the city.

The problem is this kid (who is honestly a really great kid, and I don’t fault him) whose mother is using me like a free babysitter. Whenever I come home (i.e. whenever they can see my car in the driveway) the kiddo comes over so say hi, and asks if he can hang out. I kind of assume the poor guy doesn’t have a lot of friends, and I’m worried that if I tell him no I’ll really hurt his feelings.

The first time I texted his mom to make sure she knew where he was and if she was ok with him being in my house. She said yes and asked me if that was ok with me, and I said it was cool. We mainly played some age appropriate video games, and chatted, and I made sure my mother was in the room with us the whole time (because I honestly feel a bit awkward and I don’t want to be seen as a creep or anything). I sent him home and I was happy that I could make him feel a bit better, but then the next time I came home he was there again. And then again. And then again.

It’s getting to the point where it feels very inappropriate. I would never do anything to hurt a kid, but I keep feeling more nervous that this could be misconstrued as some kind of grooming. I see him a lot like my little cousin (7 M) and I want him to be happy, but I’m just not feeling comfortable with the situation. I also feel like I’m being taken advantage of, because his parents keep letting him come over, sometimes for multiple hours at a time, without asking and with no warning, and of course no pay for what is technically babysitting.

I really don’t want to hurt the little guys feelings, but this last time I was home without my parents and I just got out of the pool so I was in my swim trunks. I didn’t want to turn him away but I also didn’t want him to stay because of the way it looked. I didn’t know what to say so we hung out for a bit in my front yard (in clear view of the whole neighbourhood) and chatted for a bit before I sent him home.

It’s getting very disruptive because I feel like I can’t have a few drinks with my buddies just in case this kid comes over and I need to pull out my camp counsellorsona, and again it’s not like I’m getting paid. To be blunt, I want to be able to relax.

He’s moving away in a few months, so I figured it wouldn’t matter for much longer anyhow, but after this last time I really don’t know anymore.

I have a hard time saying no to anyone, but it’s especially hard to tell this little kid no to his face when he comes to my door so excited to see me, so WIBTA to text his mom and tell her not to let him come over again? I really don’t want to hurt his feelings, and I really don’t want his mom to tell him I don’t want to see him again, but I’m running low on options here. I’m uncomfortable and frustrated, and I don’t know what to do here.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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fanhackers · 8 months

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Back to school edition: “So you want to be a Fan Studies scholar?” (aka "My 2¢, YMMV")

As a professor, I often supervise undergraduates who are interested in fan studies topics, often as independent studies or senior theses. Some of these students want to go on to do graduate work in fan studies–but that can be complicated, because fan studies is such an interdisciplinary subject. So I ask them: do they just want to continue studying fandom in an organized way, or are they considering grad school because they actually want to get a job / earn a living as a scholar or teacher? Let’s ignore the state of the market in higher ed (many ugh, much gross) for the moment, and talk purely about the intellectual issues involved in studying fandom.

Like, for instance, there really aren’t fan studies departments per se (and few institutions even have television studies) and hiring is still overwhelmingly a departmental thing. (That’s changing, but academia isn’t known for its lightning-fast pivots.) So what department would you looking to be hired into? Students often don’t know–they like literary study, they like media and communications, they like television and film, they like anthropology. So I ask them the question another way: if you got hired as a professor, what introductory courses do you think you’d enjoy teaching? Are your bread and butter courses going to be, say, Intro to British Literature I and II or Media and Society? Or maybe it would be Intro to Anthropology or Intro to Film Studies. Maybe it would be some form of Rhetoric and Composition. It might also be Intro to Marketing–some of the people most interested in fandom studies are business or economics professors, looking to better understand consumer behavior.

But the larger point is: few professors get to teach their exact areas of specialization all the time, and most professors teach one or more of their department’s intro courses. (You might also end up teaching high school: how does your fan studies interest overlap with a high school’s curricular needs?) So don’t just think about your research interest when you’re considering graduate schools and departments: think about how your research interests fit into and overlap with the broad knowledge base that you’ll need for a degree and a career.

–Francesca Coppa, Fanhackers volunteer

#fanhackers #fan studies #graduate school #academia: not known for its quick pivots!#happy back to school everyone #author: francesca coppa

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cnestus · 6 months

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re: your last post about career options in entomology, consider this an invitation to talk about what you think about molecular systematics and its role in taxonomy/phylogeny. i'm an undergrad currently in a lab focused on the phylogeny of benthic marine inverts, and the vast bulk of our work is based on molecular data. i'm interested in hearing your thoughts on the topic!

i should be clear and say that i have no inherent problems with molecular systematics as an approach to taxonomy, and in many cases it can be a tremendous boon to the field and pretty much the only way to untangle some particularly gnarly taxonomic knots.

i guess my problem arises from how the ascendancy of molecular systematics is crowding out traditional morphological taxonomy, to the point where, like i was complaining in my last post, many subdisciplines are disappearing because nobody is replacing the aging and dying experts on many groups of insects and other organisms. i think that very few people who do molecular systematics would themselves argue that they should replace traditional taxonomists, but i also think that academic administrators and funding agency bureaucrats see the difference in "efficiency" between one scientist who needs years if not decades to publish a comprehensive monograph on their study group, and another who can slam a bunch of samples through a machine and describe a hundred new species in a semester, and would prefer to fund the latter. i'm being unfairly reductive here of course, but my point is that in the publish-or-perish culture of academia, being able to churn out papers faster will always be rewarded and tilts the game way towards molecular taxonomists. even incoming grad students who want to study to become morphological taxonomists are having a harder time securing the funds to do so.

i just worry about what things are going to look like in even 10 or 20 years from now when the last of the old-timers have died off and very few have been replaced. even if you can technically identify an organism of interest through sequencing it's CO1 gene or whatever, that's no replacement for having an actual expert who can way more quickly and authoritatively tell you what it is without having to be connected to Genbank.

(far more minor, but i also think that molecular work places far too great of an emphasis on dogmatic phylogenetic taxonomizing over more practical groupings. this is pure old man grumbling but i absolutely can't stand how every few years someone recategorizes some group of insects based on their genetic sequences and suddenly i gotta relearn a bunch of new taxonomies and relabel a bunch of shit because every group's just gotta be 100% monophyletic. fuck monophyly! i will not elaborate on this!)

anyway back to my main point, again i'm sure i'm being reductive and unfair and there are absolutely labs that make use of both morphological and molecular taxonomic methods, but it's just a worrying trend to me. i just can't help but feel like the ascendancy of molecular systematics is of a piece with the inexorable automation of so many other jobs and disciplines, like a robot replacing the craftsman it was ostensibly designed to assist.

#entomology #nobody is allowed to yell at me about my opinions on taxonomy #im just a little guy #and im very sensitive

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a-dinosaur-a-day · 10 months

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Can you talk a little bit about how you became a paleontologist? (like school and stuff).

I went to college wanting to major in paleontology and everybody told me I could major in geology but that being a paleontologist just really wasn't possible.

I did major in geology/archaeology combo major (offered at my college, it's actually a BA, not a BS, which was disappointing), but it's not paleontology and i've been out of school for a awhile and i'm just really discouraged.

ugh welcome to my life. the reason my story is complicated is because of crap like that.

so, I'm going to get very, very, very real here. that means I'm going to reveal some personal details about myself. I'm okay with it. I want to share this. Content Warnings for Parental Abuse, Mental Illness, Physical Disability, and Trauma. Phew. Here we go.

first thing we have to acknowledge: I grew up poor. my mom was a stay at home mom because of mental illness (majorly agoraphobic and huge social anxiety, plus largely untreated OCD). my dad rarely held on a job for very long because of severe untreated ADHD. my parents' primary concern, at all times, was that their six kids (my mom loves kids) would have gainful, steady employment. they are communists, and it was always about how we can't help others effectively if we're not secure in the rest of our lives.

I wanted to be a paleontologist from the moment I could have such a want. But my parents never, never, thought that was a good idea. They wanted me to be a scientist, because they could see my potential, but they didn't think being a paleontologist was a safe career. And, to be fair, they had a point. But I didn't want to be anything else. In fact, the very idea would make me start sobbing. So while I was little, they didn't really do anything about it. Occasionally they planted seeds of "you might not be a paleontologist", but it never went well.

fast forward to me going to college. now they were serious. we were constantly fighting over whether I should be a paleontologist or a medical researcher (MDPhD. you know, the insane degree that insane people get.) (I'm insane, but not that way). because they were paying for, well, some of it (I got a lot of scholarships, b''h), and I was in general dependant on them like most college students are, they picked my classes. I was forced to major in biology (though I probably would have picked that anyway), and I never took any geology classes (well, I took half of one, but had to drop it because of my stupid premed classes).

I got to do paleontology research, but it was kind of in secret - I technically had two different research jobs, one in evolutionary biology, one in paleontology. I took tons of medical related classes, and was forced to take the MCAT twice. I wasn't good at it. Memorizing things isn't my forte, I'm much better at problem solving and finding/evaluating information. I also just wasn't interested in it - I can remember countless dinosaur genera, but ask me to remember really specific medical details and my mind draws a blank.

I did not do well on the MCAT, but I was still forced to apply to MDPhD programs. I also applied to evolutionary biology and paleontology PhD programs on my own. But paleontology is extremely competitive, and I didn't hear back from any of those. I also didn't get anywhere with any of those medical programs. In fact, I ended up getting accepted to a grad program for evolutionary developmental biology, because that was the only thing that had an opening. Rather than go home and be forced to apply to medical school again, I took the out.

I was miserable. But I tried to convince myself it was better this way. That I would have gainful employment, and be able to do science. Meanwhile, I was running this blog, building a community, and constantly thinking about paleontology instead of my actual thesis. Even though paleontology doesn't require field work, I'd convinced myself I could never do it because field work is inaccessible to me - I have had chronically dislocated knees since I was 16, and a few different physical conditions that make me exceptionally heat sensitive. I couldn't do field work, so I couldn't be a paleontologist. I also am fat, because of those disabilities, and there just aren't a lot of fat AFAB paleontologists, so I thought I wouldn't be able to get far for that reason.

But I couldn't finish that PhD. I didn't care enough about it, and I was constantly hitting roadblocks. I wanted the focus to be more evolution based, my advisor told me no. I wanted to pursue a specific question, my advisor advised against it. My wasps kept dying, and I didn't know why. I couldn't get my assays to work. My advisor was always focused on his other students and never me. It was a nightmare. All the while, my blog was exploding in popularity, and I was even going to paleontology conferences on my own dollar and networking there, presenting research about using the internet as an educational tool. And I felt at home. I was with *my people*.

Then the pandemic happened. I was already estranged from my parents for other reasons, that I'd rather not get into (no, it's not cause I'm queer). Everyone was frustrated with my lack of progress at my first program. My spouse, the infinite well of support that he is (url @plokool), gave me the push I needed to drop out with a master's degree (which I had earned at that point). I then was seriously considering becoming a rabbi, because I didn't think I could hack being a scientist at all after that experience.

But, everything felt wrong when I wasn't engaged with paleo. ADAD had gone on hiatus because my artists were persuing other opportunities (and I'm so proud of them!). I just felt empty and lost without paleontology in my life. So I went to the virtual SVP that was being held in 2020, since it was cheaper than usual and online.

And I met my current advisor. We clicked *right* away. We had the same questions about bird evolution and talked for hours. He encouraged me to apply, so I did - just for paleontology programs. I knew if I didn't do paleo, there wasn't a point. Nothing else would hold my interest enough for me to get a doctoral degree. I also talked to the wonderful friends I had made here on Palaeoblr, ones who were also actually pursuing paleo, and they promised me I could do it - that they believed in me. The one thing no one but my spouse had ever really indicated to me. It gave me the push I needed, and when I was accepted to this program, I took it. It also helped that I finally had working ADHD medication, for the first time in my life.

Even though it meant moving from Chicago - nice, at least sometimes chilly Chicago, my home for my whole life - to fucking southern new mexico. I am so hot. All the time now. My feet never return to their proper color. But it was worth the risk.

But I'm not doing field work! I've had to take a lot of remedial geology classes, but all my work has been computer and lab based. And I've done so much already! I've published a new bird, I've done excellent in my classes and teaching, and I'm currently compiling my own database of Paleogene bird fossils. Last year was a little rough because of trauma things, and the gd-damned adderall shortage, but I'm moving forward. I am hoping to go into museum work, because I love museums, and I believe in them and their ability to educate people (I also want to help the museum field decolonize itself, but that's a different discussion.) I've even made a design for an evolution of dinosaurs exhibit that my professor wants me to make into a real thing someday.

So... yeah. I became a paleontologist by being the world's most stubborn mother fucker alive. I decided I wanted to be as a kid, and I never could let it go, even when it would have been better for me to. But I'm glad I didn't, because now I'm here, and I'm doing well. When i can focus, at any rate. Because I'm only at peace when I'm around dinosaurs.

(P.S. I've even repaired my relationship with my parents, and they support me as a paleontologist now! just took 30 years for them to realize they couldn't fight me on this, I guess... or they're old and tired of fighting. one of the two.)

#about the blogger #extremely personal #long post #paleontologist #how to become a paleontologist #childhood trauma #controlling parents

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the-lincyclopedia · 3 months

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I'm back on my Shitty Knight bullshit. Here goes:

I'm guessing Shitty’s dad paid for Shitty’s undergrad but not his law school. (I'm pretty sure Shitty was canonically a walk-on for SMH, meaning he wasn't recruited and didn't have an athletic scholarship.) There are scholarships for law school, but I don't think Shitty would have gotten a full ride to Harvard Law.

So Shitty graduates from Harvard Law in tens of thousands of dollars of debt, if not more. Lardo's a freelance artist still in the early stages of her career, so she's not making big bucks, and if Shitty becomes a public defender, he won't be either.

And like . . . broke student life is just different, at least in some ways, from broke post-school life. Shitty’s in an income-driven loan repayment plan/public service loan forgiveness, so the debt isn't as big a problem as it could be, but Boston is an expensive city to live in.

And I think there would come a point when Shitty would realize that he doesn't know how to be a low-income (or even middle-income) post-school adult. He went from living with his filthy rich father, to going to an ultra-elite boarding school for high school, to attending Ivies for undergrad and grad school. It's been a while since he had all the trappings of wealth he grew up with, but he's spent most of his life in very upper-class environments (with the Haus being the most prominent semi-exception, though as we know, hockey is an expensive sport and most of SMH comes from at least some degree of money).

And I don't primarily mean this in the sense that Shitty will realize all over again how privileged he is (though, being Shitty, he probably will). I primarily mean this in the sense that he'll realize there's a whole skill set involved in living without a lot of financial buffer or discretionary income, and that a lot of people gain this skill set by watching the people who raised them, and Shitty didn't. He had a head start when it came to a lot of academic knowledge and skills related to schmoozing, but he’s woefully behind when it comes to budgeting, cooking (especially on a budget), doing home maintenance or other repair work himself, etc.

I dunno, I just think there's a very particular kind of skill gap when you find yourself much, much poorer than your parents ever were, and I think it would be fascinating to explore this with Shitty in a genuinely empathetic way.

#check please #omgcp #omgcheckplease #a lin original #shitty knight #socioeconomics #welcome to mostly true stories with lin #there is a difference between 'i have money' and 'my terrible parents have money'

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liv-is · 3 months

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Why I haven’t written in several months

Im being dramatic—it’s been like 3.

Hello writeblr buds, I miss u and I hope the past few months have been as kind and restful as possible 🥰 I realized it’s been some time since I’ve written anything (or written anything about writing anything) and for some reason it’s of some importance to me that it doesn’t look like I vanished or lost interest/commitment to the space.

I’m trying to quit my fuck ass job :/

I have a whole lot of feelings about the job + the field itself and why I think my time in it is drawing to a close, but I probably won’t take the time to write about it here, unprompted. What’s much more exciting for me is, I think, my goal itself.

I realized in like November that I’m doing that thing again—waiting for my life to start. It started when I received an art book Kickstarter reward in the mail and held a very pretty holographic print in my hands up to the light in my bedroom. My bedroom walls were bare, and had been for the past year and some change, when I moved into this unit. I hadn’t felt comfortable decorating knowing I’d be moving out in “only two years”. I caught myself waiting for permanent stability again. Oops! My bad.

I spent hours decorating my walls with all the prints I’d accumulated over the past several years and I felt…. A way. I started using stickers in my journal.

What was I waiting for? What the fuck was wrong with me?

I’ve known I wanted to center art and creativity in my life for as long as I can remember. I’m not going to blame my parents or whatever, but I was told over and over again not to throw myself into pursuing art as a career. It’s not financially viable. “You’ll never make a red cent.” I’d never told them at all that I wanted to do art for a living. I convinced myself for a long time that I didn’t. Lol.

Before I graduated from college in 2020, I faced a decision. I could go to art school, I thought. I could get an MFA. I held an art school catalog in my hand that is requested in the mail. I’d carried it everywhere for months.

I went to grad school instead. Not that I’m bitching about getting into such a prestigious program in my field, but it always felt like the ultimate compromise. It’s something I could tell my parents about and have them be proud of me, while hopefully I could devote time to art on the side. It’s what I’d been doing for the past four years—compromising. I had a professor or three notice, even. Lol.

I moved to a new city in 2020, alone. I was turbo depressed. One day, I spent hours watching animated student films on youtube and bawling my eyes out. Before I had graduated from college, I’d faced a decision and chosen wrong. I asked myself over and over—What do you do if you chose wrong?

Grad school was a nightmare, and I’d rather die than go back, but I don’t even necessarily regret going, I think. I think it was important for me to be in this profession, at least for a time. Maybe this is just me coping, lol, but going to grad school inspired much of what I ventured to write in 2022 and 2023.

Anyways, when I recently held that holographic print up to my bare landlord-white walls, I realized that if I waited any longer to let myself live my life how I wanted, then I was an idiot. In kinder words. I have no excuse not to. I’m giving myself massive grace by believing truly that the past seven years were not a waste of time, but I can’t lie to myself that I’m satisfied with the way my life is right now.

The point is-- I’ve slowed down writing recently because my focus has shifted to art. I’m DEFINITELY not done writing. Not at all! I just realized that if I want to achieve my goal of making enough consistent money off of art to leave my job, I’ll have to start treating art like a second job. Between devoting time to my fuck ass job, to art as a living, and to writing seriously, I’m in kind of a pick-any-two situation. Before, it was fuck ass job and writing seriously. I want to eventually be focused on art and writing as the pillars of my livelihood—that’s my ultimate dream. And we all know that writing is the longest game of creative and financial delayed gratification ever, lol.

I haven’t really talked about this that much on my other socials, lol, but for whatever reason I woke up this morning and felt like I wanted to give an explanation for my sparse writeblr presence. As I hopefully get to scale back to part-time clinician in the future, I hope to get back into some of my stories and start re-breaking old bones into something new and revitalized.

AN EE WAYS, if you’ve read all that, thank you. Mutuals, if u want my discord, feel free to pm me! I’m not disappearing (I will be on tumblr just as much as I have been, which is to say, daily), but I’m much easier to reach by other means. I’ll be (and have been) posting much more on my art blog @lurrkingly as well! If you’d like to um. Witness Me, I’m most Witnessable there or on my art Twitter (also @lurrkingly). (I also have a spicy art Twitter linked to the main one, which I hope to probably be. Siphoning off of for income one day soon. Praying etc.)

I have a game plan, my partner is an excellent support (I think they like playing manager, LOL), and I think, I really think, that I can do it! 🥰🥰🥰

Ok bye MWAH! I like you guys and I’ll never leave! 🎉 💜

#writeblr #chitchat #heyyyyyyy lol

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avatarpabu97 · 6 months

Text

On the subject of age for Betty and Simon and by some extension Marceline.

The wiki timeline clearly states that Simon was born forty four years before the mushroom war started. Clearly putting him at forty four.

Marcy was four years before the war clearly making her four.

They were 45~47 and 5~7 respectively when they met. The s5 episode 14 made it clear they were 47 and 7 at point in time and according to the official Enchiridion suggest that Marcy was about 5 or 6 when they met.

Age has always been concrete when lore was introduced and involved with the series.

Betty’s age is vague. Like the crew didn’t know what to put down for it quite yet. The Wiki putting her birth 20 to 40 years before the Mushroom.

The season 8 episode 1 where She’s infected the crown with her AI presence makes it sound they met when their both students and then the season 10 episode 11 makes you think they were both doctors at that point because of Betty’s trip where we assumed that was her apartment.

Then F&C episode 8 gives us the perspective of her being pre grad which depending on the profession being pre grad can put you anywhere to late 20s and early 30s. With Betty being a fan of Simon’s work who is an established doctorate but is treated poorly by the students he’s at lecture for. Which leads others to believe he’s a new doctorate.

And from what I can research it’s possible for undergraduates to publish work just not to larger journals. So realistically Betty can be a couple years younger then Simon and read his older work in smaller journals and by the time he has more experience he’s posting in bigger journals and she nearly ready to graduate.

Apparently from what I’ve gleaned undergrads can give lectures so it’s possible the library wasn’t the first time they met. We also have to take in the account of Betty possibly starting her studying much later. Instead of doing school right away or taking breaks during certain semesters. And the possibility of Simon being such a genius he graduated early from his school and studies he was much younger then normal to gain a doctorate.

The wiki also makes it vague how long ago Betty’s Trip was before the Mushroom war 5 to 10 years. But they discovered the enchirdion at 5!years before the mushroom war. Simon also found the crown 1-2 year before the war. But the timeline pre mushroom seems to be inconsistent given the nature of the show’s not really thinking of lore and history until after season 4 it’s hard to conclude unless we get word from god what Betty’s age is.

In conclusion I don’t know what to do about their age. What I have seen and can infer is that Betty is at least 4 years younger then Simon or close to age with him. They we’re together for somewhere between 5 to7 year as I’ve seen other on Reddit point based on how long it takes to publish books and work. He was never her teacher but Betty was definitely a fan of him. Possibly reading is work when Simon was still a student and didn’t get a breakthrough or respect until Enchiridion. Which he wanted to Share the glory with her. And he did respect her. She didn’t truly put her career on hold more like centered it around Simons because she was such a fan of his and in love that neither noticed until it was to late.

Interpert the relationship as you will. They are both consenting adults with an ambiguous age gap. That the writer don’t seem to want to confirm or wish to confirm as they expand the story of Adventure Time. Their is a lot of nuance that many are not considering when it comes to schooling and life in general because my sister herself started school for a teaching degree when she was about 19 which did put on hold because of life. She is in her mid thirties now going backwards to school until a year ago.

So do with this as you will.

#adventure time #adventure time fionna and cake #betty grof #simon petrikov #petrigrof

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booksandwitchery · 12 days

Text

Greetings and Life Update

I really miss being on here and talking to you all! I hope everyone on Witchblr is doing well and enjoying the season.

I want to say that I have been undergoing a bit of a career change and that's why I haven't been on here as much. I have transitioned from being a librarian to...dun dun dun...a historical archivist! In February, I accepted a new position at SCV Historical Society. When I was in grad school I had no idea that museum archival work was even in the cards for me. It's crazy how much can change in just a year. This was emotionally difficult for me because I was so attached to the library and the work I was doing there. The commute, however, was slowly killing me and I didn't feel like I was being challenged. I took the new job because my intuition was firmly telling me it was the right thing to do, but it was not an easy decision.

Now that I am (more or less) adjusted to the new position and sleep schedule, I'm excited to be more active on here because everything witchcraft makes me feel at home. I'd also like to give a quick update on where I'm at on my path:

As with a lot of secular witches, I had a phase of reading about Chaos Magick and finding ways to adapt this model to my own life and practice. The idea of creating servitors and working with archetypal deities really resonated with me. I'm now reading a book called Why Woo-Woo Works: The Surprising Science Behind Meditation, Reiki, Crystals, and Other Alternative Practices by David R. Hamilton Ph.D. It really helps solidify for the reader why all religions/spiritual practices tend to work for people (at least some extent). The book pairs well with Chaos Magick and witchcraft in general because the author highlights the importance of belief in achieving your goals, getting results, living a better life, etc. He also cites a startling amount of scientific studies and lists them in the references at the end of the book (for skeptics like me that want to be sure that the author isn't stretching the truth or taking any liberties with explaining the results of the experiments).

Next--over the winter holiday, I was gifted a shitload of calligraphy supplies for some reason. So I've started to get into calligraphy and various ink colors and pens. Naturally this calligraphy hobby really has me obsessed with color magic and ink magic (I still don't know if ink magic is a thing, but it should be).

Between work and all the craziness of life, I've also been steadily working on a master list of personal correspondences. I started on paper, but soon transitioned over to a digital list because it really is a living, iterative document that can change from day-to-day. For this I've been using the whiteboard feature on Canva, and I've also been working on some other stuff on there that really deserves its own post.

I also have way too many witchcraft books to read; it's really intimidating at this point. If you have any tips on how to set up a reading schedule or reading priority list, let me know. Actually if you have any advice on how to keep up a reading habit while also keeping up with everything else, please please please throw it my way.

I've got so much to say! I could go on and on. It's good to be back.

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starlightkun · 1 year

Text

❧ word count: 11.9k

❧ warnings: cursing, mentions of death/dead people in the context of him being hades, probably more legal jargon than there should be but i tried to make it as easy to understand as possible i promise, it gets pretty existential at some points but never overtly angsty

❧ genre: fluff, getting together, greek gods/goddesses au, hades jaemin, human reader, nades au, paralegal reader, bit of a ham-fisted persephone allegory, inspired by the gods/goddesses assigned to the work it unit in 2020 for this video, appearances by bestie jeno and coworker yangyang

❧ author’s note: ahhh my first fic back after over a year hiatus!! not super accurate to the original greek myths, i was just havin fun with hades as a concept rather than a strict characterization. i also watched mike flanagan’s ‘midnight mass’ and read john milton’s ‘paradise lost’ during the time i was writing this so get ready for some slight spiritual/religious iconography and overtones. hope y’all enjoy, i had so much fun playing around with my writing in this one!!

❧ spotify playlist

⤷ sequel

The god’s—Jaemin’s—eyes continued to stare you down. It felt like he was looking into your soul. And you wanted him to.

“I didn’t summon you,” you told him cautiously. “Or at least I didn’t try to.”

“Okay, so I’m thinking she could accidentally be pushed into oncoming traffic—”

“And who exactly would be doing this accidental pushing?” You cut Jeno off with a scoff.

Currently, you were laying on your back on your bed, head hanging off the end of it and phone in hand. Your best friend, Lee Jeno, was on the other end of the line, jokingly scheming to get you a job at his workplace. Jeno somehow worked as a legal assistant at the best civil law practice in your city, and you, on the other hand, were unemployed. This was what you got for taking an extra year to get your master’s degree to become a paralegal instead of immediately jumping into the workforce after undergrad.

That was where you and Jeno had met: Intro to Philosophy on your very first day of college as two bright-eyed freshmen with surprisingly similar career goals and the same taste in 00s pop punk bands. Now you were a year and a half past graduating with your bachelor’s, and six months past your master’s. And what had that extra effort gotten you? Many, many interviews that all ended the same way: You’re “an incredible applicant,” but “too educated” for the pay of the position and/or “too inexperienced.”

Jeno, on the other hand, had declined your suggestion to further your education together and instead landed himself a legal assistant job right out of college. So now here you were, living off the remnants of your student loans and savings as you desperately hunted for a paralegal job.

Your best friend’s elaborate plans to get you a job at his firm would typically make you laugh, but this time you couldn’t even muster up a chuckle. Earlier today when you checked your bank accounts during a break from emailing out your résumé, you were confronted with the fact that your savings were running out; you didn’t have enough to even get you to the end of your lease in six months.

“God will, duh,” Jeno said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His current plan was centered around a junior partner’s paralegal dying of a myriad of mysterious causes, and apparently this time involved divine intervention too.

“Oh, right, of course,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m serious about the fact that Yejin needs to go, though. I have no clue how she’s still employed. And you would be the perfect fit for Ms. Haseul, she kind of does a little bit of everything, but her main focus is general corporate representation. Wasn’t that what you specialized in for grad school?”

“It is, yes.”

“Then there we go!”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Jeno.”

You sighed. All this talk about a job that you’ll never have was bringing down your spirits. “Anyway, I have half a leftover pizza in the fridge calling my name right now. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright, bye, Y/N! I’ll keep my ears peeled for any sign of dissent in the ranks so you can slip your way in!”

“Right, bye.”

Hanging up, another sigh tumbled out of your mouth as you tossed your phone somewhere further up your bed. Truthfully, you weren’t hungry in the slightest, you just wanted to get out of that conversation. You brought your hands to your face to rub circles against your temples and closed your eyes; you were getting a headache. Hanging upside down off the foot of your bed certainly wasn’t helping, but you couldn’t be fucked to move at this point.

A moment of self-pity later and you opened your eyes with all intentions to get up and take your migraine medication, but you froze when you were met by a dark shape. Squinting, it took you a second to process that the shape was someone’s legs and shoes, and you let out a yelp. Startled, you went to twist yourself around to face whoever was in your room, but just managed to fall off your bed instead. You very narrowly avoided snapping your neck, landing on your shoulder instead, eliciting yet another yelp, but this time one of pain.

Scrambling to your feet, you were now face to face with the intruder. It was a man, younger, maybe around your age, donned in all black. Black shoes, black slacks, black suit jacket, and black vest underneath that was buttoned but with a neckline cut plenty low enough to show a good expanse of his chest. He had an eerie beauty to him: his face just bordering on gaunt with pronounced cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and a hint of bags under his eyes as if he had just woken up from a night of restless sleep. But he didn’t seem to have recently awoken, very much alert and well put-together in every other aspect. His black hair was perfectly styled back from his face save for one stray lock towards the middle, and his eyes were so dark they reminded you of black holes, threatening to sweep you away forever into a cold unknown. He had more piercings than you could count in the moment, silver and the odd jewel adorning his ears. The vest showed off four or five separate silver chains around his neck.

“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?” You breathed out, desperately trying to blink away the vertigo from your sudden change in orientation.

The man was between you and the doorway, his body language not indicating that he was blocking your way out intentionally. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his pants as he cocked an eyebrow up at your question. He seemed entirely relaxed and yet the air around you still felt as if it were growing colder by the second.

“I should be asking you that. What the hell am I doing in your apartment?” He repeated your question back to you, amusement in his tone as he studied you from head to toe, then back up.

“What?”

“I was summoned by someone. I’m not summoned often, usually Eros or Aphrodite are at the beck and call of humans.”

The names made your head spin, “Eros? Aphrodite? Like, the Greek gods?”

“Yes, of course.” One of his hands left his pocket, the many rings along his fingers glistening in your ceiling fan lights as he went to push the stray lock of hair back from his face. “Humans are always wishing for love or beauty or fame. Not as often are they wishing for my gifts, or at least not with such an intensity that I’m inclined to entertain those wishes.”

Something about his candor inclined you to ask, “Who are you?”

“I’ve had a couple names. Pluto, and you probably recognize me as Hades. But you can call me Jaemin.”

His words made your heart thunder in your chest once again. You wanted to tell yourself that this guy was crazy, but he sounded so assured and calm that it gave you pause. Not mention that he had just appeared in your home out of nowhere.

“Hades? God of the Underworld? In my apartment?”

“The very same. Please, call me Jaemin. As long as I can call you Y/N.”

“Oh, you know my name already,” you stated weakly.

The god’s—Jaemin’s—eyes continued to stare you down. It felt like he was looking into your soul. And you wanted him to.

“I didn’t summon you,” you told him cautiously. “Or at least I didn’t try to.”

He took a step towards you. “And yet here I am.”

Another step. “I was brought here by a desire, your desire. So, what do you really, really want, Y/N?”

His words dripped off his tongue and wound their way through your mind. “A loved one back from the dead? The death of an enemy? To die yourself? So much money you could never spend it all in one lifetime?”

Another step.

“No, none of those,” you shook your head vigorously, feeling like every sense of yours was alight with his proximity to you. Every sound was deafening, your skin tingled, and the scent of cinnamon and citrus danced around you. One more step and he’d practically be on top of you. “I don’t want any of that.”

Another step. He was right in front of you now, his startlingly cool breath washing over your face as he asked, “Then what do you want?”

“I just—” your hands were clenched into fists at your sides, fingernails digging into your palms as you struggled to find the words. “Want to work at Kim & Moon.”

Jaemin’s head cocked to the side as he studied your face, “Why?”

“It’s the best civil law firm in the city. I know it’s where I belong, if I could just get a job there, I know I’d do well.”

“This job? Does it pay well?”

“I-I don’t know,” you confessed. “Jeno hasn’t ever told me how much he makes, but that’s only part of why I want to work there. If all I cared about was paying my bills, I would’ve taken the first job at any sleazy ambulance chaser’s office I could find. But I’d be wasted on something like that. I’m smart, well-studied, and I’ll be good at what I do. I just know it.”

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah, I like that.”

Then all at once, Jaemin was no longer in front of you, and you felt like you could breathe properly again. He dropped himself onto your bed, settling in to recline leisurely against your headboard, legs crossed at the ankle.

“Alright, I’ll grant your wish,” he declared, slipping one of his rings off to roll it along his knuckles. The silver band caught the light and nearly distracted you from his words.

Pulling yourself out of your momentary trance, you immediately said, “But I didn’t ask you to—”

“Of course you did, or I wouldn’t be here. Do we really have to go through this again?” His eyes were fixed on the ring. “Now do you want that job or not?”

“If I say yes, what do you want in return? I doubt Hades himself is in the business of charity.”

“Smart. There will be an exchange, obviously.”

“Then my answer is no, I don’t want to be selling my soul or something.”

Jaemin suddenly flicked the ring up, watching as it did one, two, three flips in the air before landing in the palm of his hand, “As lovely as I’m sure your soul is, I’m not particularly interested in taking it.”

“Well then what would you want from me?”

“A third of your life.” He said it simply, as if you two were talking about him borrowing a cup of sugar, not your life.

“Wh—”

“Let me finish,” he instructed sternly, firm gaze once again on you. “Spend two-thirds of your year here, then spend the remaining third of it with me.”

“If I take four months off work I won't be able to keep the job you get me.”

“It doesn’t have to be consecutive. Give me your nights and I’ll call it even.”

“Why? Why me? Why would you give me so much for just… hanging out with you?”

He shrugged, “I’m tired of spending all my time with dead people.”

Despite his casual tone, you swore you saw something much sadder flash across his face for a moment. It was gone as soon as you had registered it, making you wonder if you just imagined it. When you remained quiet, chewing on the inside of your cheek in thought, he stood up and crossed the room to once again stop just a mere inch or two in front of you, “Do we have a deal, Y/N?”

A chance to use your degree and skills like you’d always dreamed, just for hanging out with a god every night? It sounded... not quite too good to be true, but definitely too easy. You couldn’t remember Hades being portrayed as a tricksy sort in the myths, and everything Jaemin had done tonight—aside from appearing in your room out of the blue—made you think that you could probably trust him.

“Yeah, sure,” you agreed, looking up from where you had been twiddling your thumbs anxiously to his hauntingly beautiful face. “Do we have to do anything to make the deal official or whatever?”

“What, like a kiss?” He grinned at you mischievously. “Since you asked…”

“Jaemin!” You scoffed, feeling like he was teasing you now.

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“No I didn’t!”

“Anyway, a handshake will do just fine,” Jaemin held his right hand out in the small space between your bodies.

You took it, feeling the cold from his fingers seep into your own, and gave it one firm shake. Before you could take your hand back, he’d tightened his grip and turned it over. His other hand came up to slip a ring onto your ring finger. It was the same silver band he had been playing with before, and it magically changed size to fit your finger perfectly. Jaemin bowed slightly, bringing your hand up to press a feather-light kiss to the knuckle of the very finger he’d just put the ring on. His lips were cool like the rest of him, but you still felt warm at his actions.

“There,” he straightened back up and let go of your hand finally. “That should do it.”

You looked down at the ring he’d just put on your finger. It was a simple silver band of medium width that reminded you of your father’s wedding band.

“Goodbye for now, Y/N.”

“Yeah—” you cut yourself off when you brought your eyes up to see that Jaemin was gone. Staring at the empty space where he just was, you murmured, “Bye, Jaemin.”

That night you dreamt of a man cloaked in shadows guiding you to a tree, instructing you to pick the golden fruit that was growing on it. You gazed at the fruit, in a daze, mesmerized by their beauty. They were so inviting, the man’s voice soothing, and you lifted a hand up towards one.

You groaned against the bright sunlight streaming in through a crack between your curtains. Directly on your face. You threw your left arm over your eyes to block it out as you continued lying in bed, letting your mind and body wake up gradually.

Memories of last night’s visitor came back to you, and you sighed. Surely it was a dream. A weird, weird dream that your mind conjured up in an attempt to fulfill your wish for a job.

But when you squinted your eyes open and brought your right hand up enough to look at your fingers, the silver band that sat there let you know that it was real. You’d been visited last night, by Hades, who said he’d grant your wish for a job in exchange for a third of your life. And you said yes.

The loud sound of your phone buzzing on your nightstand prompted you to roll over and grab it to look at the caller ID. Lee Jeno.

“Yeah?” You couldn’t even muster up a proper greeting as you picked up, still bogged down by sleep.

“Y/N, great news!”

You glanced at the time on your phone before bringing it back up to your ear, “Jeno, it’s not even 9:30 a.m., why are you calling me? You can’t be on lunch.”

“I know, but as soon as I heard, I had to tell you!”

“Tell me what, exactly?”

“There’s a job opening at the firm! You have to apply!”

That woke you up.

“An opening?” You asked, shooting up into a sitting position.

“Jo Haseul, the junior partner at the firm I’ve been telling you about, her paralegal won the lottery and quit on the spot. No two weeks’ notice, they’re urgently hiring her replacement. I’ll text you the firm administrator’s email for you to send your résumé to!”

“That would be great, thank you, Jeno.”

“Of course!” He said brightly as another phone began ringing in the background. “I’ve got to go now, Ms. Kang is buzzing me.”

“Right, thank you again.”

“Bye!”

“Bye,” you brought your phone down to see he had already ended the call.

As you went to grab your laptop from the foot of your bed to begin drafting that email, your eyes got caught by the silver ring on your hand.

A week later and you were walking into your first day of work at Kim & Moon. The firm administrator, Jeong Jaehyun, was showing you around, and finally stopped his tour in an open-floor plan portion of the office where a grouping of eight desks were. A couple of them were empty, the others filled by various men and women hard at work, and also Lee Jeno.

“Y/N!” Jeno waved at you enthusiastically from where he was on the other side of all the desks, and you lifted your hand to give a small wave back.

“Oh, you know Lee Jeno?” Mr. Jeong asked as he guided you over towards your friend.

“Yes, we were in the same undergrad program.”

“Good, it should be easier to settle in with a familiar face nearby.” The administrator smiled as he gestured to the empty desk behind your friend. The one beside it was occupied by another young man incredibly focused on his screen, headphones in as his fingers flitted over his keyboard and he fervently typed out a court document.

“This is your desk, Ms. Y/L/N. Ms. Jo, your attorney, is on a call right now but she has been informed of your arrival. I’m sure she’ll meet with you when she can. In the meantime, please acquaint yourself with your workspace. Your computer is already logged in, and all of your passwords are on the paper right there. Is there anything you need at the moment?”

“No, no. Thank you so much, Mr. Jeong,” you bowed your head politely to him.

“Of course. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.” He pointed to the landline sitting on your desk next to the computer monitors, “I have a quick-dial button right next to Reception’s. Buzz me if you need something.”

“I will, thank you.”

And with that, Jeong Jaehyun took his leave of the pod that you were in. You sat in your chair, taking in the sparse supplies on your desk: two computer monitors, keyboard, mouse, a landline phone, a couple pens, and one sheet of paper laid across your keyboard. It was a list of your login credentials for your computer, work email, and the firm’s file management software, along with Mr. Jeong’s extension and quick-dial button name.

You turned back around to where you knew Jeno was already waiting for you. Your friend was practically vibrating with excitement in his own desk chair.

“This is so exciting!” Jeno exclaimed, momentarily drawing the attention of all the other employees in your vicinity before they went back to whatever they were doing. He continued on much quieter, “I told you you’d kill it at your interview.”

“Right,” you nodded, trying not to think about the silver ring on your right hand. “Thanks, Jeno, I’m excited to start.”

“I’ll give you the rundown of everyone at the firm, come here,” he scooted his chair over to make room for you to roll yours up to his desk.

His fingers quickly flitted across his keyboard and mouse to pull up the firm website. Hovering over the tab labeled ‘Our Attorneys,’ you saw a list of names drop down. He clicked on the first one, Kim Chaeyoung. It pulled up a profile, the picture showing a very determined older woman, her arms crossed over her chest as she very resolutely stared down the camera.

“This is Kim Chaeyoung, the ‘Kim’ in Kim & Moon. She’s the most senior attorney at the firm, and mostly does corporate compliance and medical malpractice law. She just stepped down from being managing partner at the end of last year.”

He clicked the next name on the list, Moon Taeil. This time a man was on your screen, a bit older than you, but not by too much. No more than ten or fifteen years for sure, quite young to be a managing partner at such a large firm. His gaze wasn’t quite as intense as Kim Chaeyoung’s, but it held an intelligence and wisdom clearly beyond his years.

“Mrs. Kim stepped down to let this man, Moon Taeil, take over as managing partner. Something about wanting younger blood in charge but…” Jeno looked around the pod before he dropped his voice to a whisper so soft you had to lean in to hear him, “The rumor is that Mrs. Kim is going to announce her retirement at the holiday party at the end of this year.”

“And what sort of law does Mr. Moon do?” You questioned.

“Mostly insurance litigation. He tends to get the nastier incidents though: shootings, stabbings, fires, the odd dog bite.”

You then went through the senior partners before getting to the first of the junior partners on the list.

“And here is Jo Haseul, your attorney. She’s the most senior of the junior partners, and rumors also say that she’s going to be made a senior partner by the end of this year.”

“You love your office gossip, don’t you?”

You studied the woman on screen. She was younger than you had expected, a fierceness in her eyes that both intimidated you and inspired you to follow her wherever she led.

“This isn’t even the juicy stuff, wait until you hear about the affair Mr. Noh supposedly had with his assistant in the 80s,” Jeno scoffed, then turned his attention back to the woman on screen. “Anyway, Ms. Haseul is Mrs. Kim’s protégé. She mostly does general corporate matters, medical malpractice, and the occasional pro bono representation for women in need. Restraining orders, child custody, divorce, whatever comes in the door. If you really want to get to know her, ask about those cases.”

“She sounds incredible.”

“I told you you’d be perfect for each other.” Your friend then pulled up the next junior partner, “This is Kim Doyoung, he’s Mrs. Kim’s son but you’d never be able to tell by how they act around each other. All business. I think he doesn’t want people to assume he only got his position because of his mother, but nobody who has actually spoken to Mrs. Kim would ever think she’d do something like that. She’s got some serious integrity.”

Jeno was about to move on to the next attorney profile, a ‘Qian Kun,’ when you heard a ringing from behind you.

“Oh, that’s you, Y/N!”

You quickly wheeled yourself back over to your desk, picking up your desk phone after the third ring, “Y/L/N Y/N speaking.”

“Ms. Y/L/N,” a woman’s voice was on the other end, and when you glanced at the caller ID, you saw ‘Jo Haseul’ across the screen. “This is Jo Haseul. Please come to my office now.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’m down the hall. Ask another assistant if you need help finding it.”

“Will do, thank you.”

She hung up, and you rushed to stand up. Grabbing one of the pens you saw earlier, you frantically scanned for a notepad to write with, but there wasn’t one on hand at your desk. You whipped around to face your friend, “Jeno, do you have a notepad I can use? Ms. Haseul wants to see me.”

“Here,” he handed you a notepad slightly bigger than your hand, spiral-bound at the top.

“Thank you!”

“The attorney offices are down that hall,” he pointed. “And Ms. Haseul’s will be on your left.”

“Got it, thanks!” You hurried in the direction he gestured.

Thankfully, everyone’s names were engraved on metal nameplates on the doors, making it easy to know when you had stopped in front of your attorney’s. Rapping your knuckles against the wood, you waited for a response.

“Come in.”

You entered already bowing, “Y/L/N Y/N, ma’am. It’s an honor to be here and I am very grateful for the opportunity to work with you.”

Jo Haseul appraised you for a moment from where she was sat behind her desk. She then nodded, “It’s nice to meet you. Now please sit, Y/L/N.”

“Yes ma’am,” you quickly sat in the armchair she had gestured to.

After brief introductions, Ms. Haseul gave you the rundown of the kinds of cases she tended to deal with—which generally lined up with what Jeno had told you earlier, her management style, workflow, and an overview of the duties you’ll be expected to fulfill as her paralegal. At the end of it, you left with pages of notes, a stack of papers in your arms, and your first tasks to do for her.

Stopping at your desk, you didn’t even sit as you organized the papers into three stacks: to correct, to file, and to copy. You picked up the last stack of things that Ms. Haseul wanted copies of, then turned to your friend, “Hey, Jeno, where’s the copier?”

The assistant sat at the desk beside yours was the one who spoke up in response, his headphones set aside now, “Oh, I’m going there right now, I’ll show you!”

“Thanks, Yangyang,” Jeno said, then nodded for you to go along with the other man.

Yangyang grabbed his own paper before leading the way out from the desks. He took off in the opposite direction from the offices down a different hallway, “It’s down this hall, first door on the right.” He then opened said door to reveal a room with four large copy machines in it.

“I’m Liu Yangyang, by the way,” your coworker introduced himself, stopping in front of one machine. “I’m Qian Kun and Dong Sicheng’s legal assistant. They’re Ms. Haseul’s associate attorneys that work under her so you and I will overlap quite a bit. Sicheng usually handles corporate matters with Ms. Haseul while Kun does the med mal portion.”

“I’m Y/L/N Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Yangyang.”

“You too, Y/N. And I’m sure you’ll meet my attorneys at some point today. I apologize in advance, and yes, they are always like that. Kun’s a workaholic who would be here until two in the morning if somebody didn’t send him home, and Sicheng… you are allowed to say no to him, and I encourage it, actually. Booksmart but doesn’t quite get social cues. I’ve seen him accidentally sweet talk his way into having an assistant pick up his dry cleaning before.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, I had to intervene to ensure feminism wasn’t set back fifty years,” Yangyang scoffed.

“Women everywhere commend you for your service to the cause, Yangyang,” you nodded solemnly, to which your coworker snickered.

“The dude’s wicked smart but dumber than a box of rocks. Associates, you know?” He shook his head then returned to instructing you about the machine.

After Yangyang had shown you how to use the multipurpose machine—scanning and uploading, printing, copying, faxing—he took the copies that he had made and left you there. Nobody was at the other copiers, making you the only one in the room. You took a deep breath to compose yourself after having so much information thrown at you from all sides. Right now, at this moment, all you needed to do was make a copy.

Putting the first document in where Yangyang had shown you, you’d just started tapping the touchscreen through to the copying option when a dark figure appeared at the edge of your vision. Your head snapped up to look at the man leaning against the wall beside the copy machine you were at.

You hadn’t seen Jaemin since the night you’d made your deal. You’d spent the entire next night anxiously waiting for him to appear, but he never did, and you eventually gave up and fell asleep. He didn’t come any night after that, and you kind of thought he might’ve forgotten about you, or maybe didn’t really want you to hold up your end of the deal. Realized that he could find better company than you.

But here he was, in your workplace, smirk on his face and delight in his tone, “Surprise! I came to visit you on your first day of work. I’m so proud!”

First rolling your eyes at the sarcasm in his words and the fake tear he wiped away, you then fervently glanced towards the door to the copy room, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m checking on my investment,” he answered coolly.

“What, me? You can check on me at my home tonight, not at my job on my first day of work! Somebody could walk in, how would I explain you?”

“Nobody’s coming.”

“The deal was that I would give you my nights. Sun’s still up.”

“Yes, you’re doing just fine,” he nodded as he adjusted his black tie, seeming satisfied with his ‘check in.’ “I’ll see you tonight, Y/N.”

And he was gone in the blink of an eye.

You immediately flopped down onto your couch when you got home that night. That was the most work you’d done in a while; you were tired both physically and mentally. But it was a good sort of tired. You finally had a job.

“Hi, honey, how was work?”

You shot up at the voice, knowing exactly who it was. Jaemin was poised in your armchair, half a smirk already on his lips. He was in all-black again, though a slightly different suit from last time, his slacks and suit jacket had thin dark grey pinstripes, over a black silk dress shirt with the top three buttons open.

“Oh, uh, it was good,” you said.

Silence fell over you two, and you started fidgeting uncomfortably as it dragged on. Finally, you said, “So... what do you want to do?”

“Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“I feel like you already know the answer to that, but no. I just got home.”

“Let’s get dinner then. Where would you like to go?”

“Uhm...” you wracked your brain for some places nearby. “There’s a ramen place down the street. Let me change out of my work clothes first, hold on.”

Re-emerging from your bedroom in more casual clothes, you saw that Jaemin had moved from his spot on your armchair and was instead standing, gazing out the window. And again, for a brief moment, you could’ve sworn he looked... lonely.

“I’m ready,” you announced yourself. It felt wrong to keep looking at him like that.

Jaemin turned around, focusing a dazzling smile on you, “Lead the way, Y/N.”

The place you were thinking of really was just a couple blocks down the street. Mumbling a thanks to Jaemin as he held the door open for you, you were immediately met with a packed restaurant. It was seat-yourself, and you managed to spot a small table for two in the very back corner, right beside the entrance to the kitchen. Guiding Jaemin over to it, you felt your face turn warm as he pulled your chair out for you.

The menu was a singular piece of laminated paper taped to the tabletop, and your eyes skimmed it. You ordered the same thing every time at this point, but it was something to look at other than the god in front of you. Speaking of, he was a god. Did he even need to eat?

“Jaemin.” You said his name as you looked up from the menu.

His eyes flicked up from where they’d also been reading the options, “Hm?”

“Do you even eat, like, normal food?”

“I can if I want to, I just don’t need it to survive like you do.”

“Oh, I see. And do you... like it?”

“Quite.”

It was then that a familiar waiter came up to your table, “Hi, Y/N! It’s been a while. Almost didn’t recognize you at a table instead of the bar.”

Typically, you would come by yourself and sit at the bartop to eat alone alongside all the other solo patrons. You rolled your eyes at the slight jab, “Thank you, Chenle, I feel so welcome.”

“Aw, you know you’re one of my favorite regulars,” the young man snickered.

“Yeah, whatever. Sorry I haven’t been by lately, I didn’t exactly have the funds to eat out.”

“That’s okay. But you’re back, does that mean that you found a job?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Congrats!” He then focused his attention on the man across from you, “Hi, I’m Zhong Chenle.”

You moved to introduce the two before Jaemin could open his mouth, afraid of what he would’ve said. “Chenle, this is Jaemin, a... friend of mine. Jaemin, this is Chenle, he’s a server here.”

“And I’ll be serving you two tonight. So, what can I get you?”

After taking your orders, Chenle took off to put them in. You shifted in your seat awkwardly. What were you and Jaemin even supposed to talk about?

“You usually sit at the bar?” Jaemin questioned.

“I’m not an alcoholic, despite how Chenle made it sound,” you scoffed. “I usually come by myself, and the bar is the quickest place to get your food and get out. And that way I don’t take up any tables that groups can use.”

“I feel honored that you brought me here, then.”

You searched his face for any hint that he was teasing you, but all you found was sincere curiosity. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, you changed the topic, “So why did you show up tonight? You didn’t come all last week.”

“Well, I had to hold up my end of the deal first.”

“Right, that... makes sense.” Realizing that you hadn’t even thanked him for whatever he’d done for you, you added, “Thank you, Jaemin. For you know, the job.”

“You’re welcome.”

Chenle returned then with a small bottle of soju for each of you, informing you that your food would be ready soon.

“So is it everything you’d dreamed of? Working at Kim & Moon?” Jaemin asked before lifting his bottle to his lips.

“Today was only my first day but... yes. I’ve already learned a lot, was listened to when I spoke, and the partner I work for seems like an incredible woman so far. It’s wonderful.”

“I hope it stays that wonderful for you, Y/N. I’d like to see your eyes light up like this often.”

Looking down at the green bottle in front of you, you twisted your ring around your finger nervously. You didn’t know what to say back, your heart fluttering around in your chest. Jaemin was charming, too charming for your own good, and you sort of felt like you really shouldn’t have expected any less from a god.

“Are you curious?”

You snapped your head up to look at your companion, not even attempting to hide your confusion at his words, “About what?”

“What I did, to get you the job.”

“I mean, I am. I assume you had something to do with Yejin winning the lottery? You’re the god of everything below the Earth, including precious gems, gold, silver. The god of riches, wealth. In the modern day that would translate to how we view wealth and riches now, since I’m not really out here buying my groceries with rubies and gold coins. Right?”

Jaemin’s obsidian eyes practically glittered as he listened to you speak, his lips curling up at one corner before he took another swig of his soju. When you were finished, he set the bottle back onto the table to answer your question, “Hit the nail on the head.”

“Honestly, I’m just glad you did that instead of killing her or something horrible.”

His head jerked back as he looked at you with bewilderment, “Now why would I do that? I’m the god of the dead, not death. If you wanted her dead you’re talking to the wrong deity.”

“I don’t want her dead, that’s my point. That’s what Jeno was joking about on the phone before you showed up; I didn’t want you to get any ideas.”

“I don’t really find it fun to just push people into traffic.”

“So you were listening to—” You cut yourself off as you saw Chenle approaching with your food. Not a conversation to be having in front of your normal human waiter.

After he had left your table again, you returned to what you were saying before, “So you were listening to our conversation.”

“Can’t help myself, I’m nosy when it comes to the humans who summon me,” Jaemin admitted.

“So what does Hades do for fun then?” You asked lightheartedly, slurping at some of your broth.

“While I don’t necessarily enjoy pushing people into traffic, I do find it much more fun to let a human become suddenly awash with money and watch what happens when they eventually lose it all. See what they spend it on, who they spend it on. Themselves mostly, sometimes others, trying to get people to be their friends or lovers simply because of what they’ll buy them. I’ll watch them do what humans do best, use and abuse the gifts that were given to them. And then once they’ve been sucked dry both in their finances and their souls, find out how they try to move on.”

“Is that what you’re doing with me?” You set your spoon down, voice wavering. “Watching and waiting for me to end up like that?”

Jaemin took a pause, shifting forward in his seat before responding, “One of my favorite things about humans is how resilient you are. Always trying to bounce back. It’s fascinating to find out your breaking point, when you have no more bounce left.”

An absolutely devilish smile played across his features as he seemed to take delight in the notion. He didn’t exactly answer your question, but the lack thereof felt like enough.

“Why?”

“Because it’s different for every person, and always further than I think it’ll be. Even after so long, knowing that humans can still surprise me, it’s refreshing. Makes me think that…”

You blinked at him, waiting for him to finish. He was definitely well aware that he had your rapt attention, basking in the drama he had created by pausing. His eyes settled on you firmly, holding eye contact as something softer entered them.

“Maybe you’ll surprise me, too.”

Jaemin came back to your apartment with you after you’d decided you were full. You hadn’t had much of an appetite after that harrowing conversation over dinner, and he’d left you with a lot of thinking to do. It wasn’t every day that you heard a god’s perspective on human lives—on toying with human lives, watching for their eventual breakdown in the aftermath of the ‘gifts’ he gave them. If that’s what it did to them all, it seemed much more like a curse to you.

And you were of course thinking about whether it would happen to you too. You hadn’t wished for riches or wealth directly, definitely not so much that it would have the same effect on your life as winning the lottery. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t worried. And the idea of Jaemin watching you every step of the way, waiting to see when you’d slip up, when you’d meet your breaking point, made you shiver instinctually.

“Are you cold?” Jaemin’s question broke the silence that had been hovering over you two since you started the walk from the restaurant back to your apartment.

“Oh, no, I—”

But he had already shrugged his suit jacket off and laid it over your shoulders. There was no residual body heat in it, but it did help block out some of the breeze blowing past you. You hadn’t noticed the temperature at all, too wrapped up in your own thoughts.

“Thanks,” you muttered, wrapping the jacket tighter around your shoulders. It smelled faintly of spiced citrus.

“No worries.”

Back in your apartment, you wanted nothing more than to lay in bed staring up at your ceiling as you gave yourself over fully to the existential crisis you were descending into. But you still had a god to entertain.

A glance at the change in time on your stovetop clock let you know that you were only a couple hours into your commitment. You hoped he didn’t expect you to stay up all night with him. Leaving Jaemin in your living room once again, you changed into pajamas in your bedroom. If he was going to be with you every night from here on out, you were at least going to be comfy for some of it.

Jaemin was back in the armchair he had appeared in at the beginning of the night, one knee crossed over the other and a book in hand. You paused behind him on your way back into the living room to peer over his shoulder, trying to read the title at the top of the page he was on.

“The Turn of the Screw?” You questioned, walking around him to plop down onto your couch.

“I found it on your shelf,” he gestured to the built-in shelves in the walls around the recess that held your TV. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Knock yourself out, I haven’t touched it since I had to read it for a ghost literature class like… four years ago.”

“Ghost literature class?” Jaemin lowered the book to rest on his leg while he regarded you with an eyebrow raised. “Did you go to school in the Underworld or something?”

“It was actually called like ‘Ghost Stories and Haunted Fiction of the 19th Century’ or something. The students just called it ghost lit. We read all these spooky stories, including The Turn of the Screw,” you explained, then looked around your living room. “I have a few more of them around here somewhere. Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein— I can’t remember the full reading list, but they’re scattered around.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He raised the book back up to continue reading intently.

Since he seemed occupied for the moment, you pulled out your phone to distract yourself.

A couple hours later and you let out your first yawn of the night. You’d thought that Jaemin was so enraptured by the book that he wasn’t paying any attention to you. The chuckle he gave from across the room proved you wrong, however. There was definitely nothing funny in that story. You threw him a scowl, but he neither looked up from the book nor said anything.

Shifting in your spot to get comfy again, you returned to the article that you’d been reading on your phone and your guest was quiet once again. Another yawn split your mouth, and the words on your screen swam in your vision as your eyes teared up.

“Tired, Y/N?” Jaemin’s eyes still hadn’t left the book as he continued, “You should go to sleep, early day at work tomorrow, right?”

“And what are you going to do?”

“I thought I’d finish this book, if that’s alright with you. I’ve got about… thirty, forty pages left.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” you were surprised both that he was encouraging you to go to sleep during the time you’d agreed to forfeit to him, and that he wanted to finish the book.

Standing up from the couch, you shuffled into your kitchen to fill up a glass of water. After knocking back your nightly medication, you placed the water on your nightstand and went into your bathroom to do your nighttime routine. You found yourself hovering at the threshold between the hallway that contained your bedroom and bathroom, and the living room. It felt weird to just go to bed with someone else in your home, at least not without saying goodnight to them.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat.

Jaemin turned to look at you from over the back of the armchair, “Yes, Y/N?”

“I just wanted to…” you felt the words catch in your throat. Pushing through your awkwardness, you twisted the ring around your finger as you forced the words out, “Goodnight, Jaemin.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He smiled at you before turning back around to face his book, “See you tomorrow.”

And with that, you retreated into your bedroom for the night, falling asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

The man of shadows was in your dreams again that night, drawing you to the tree with the golden fruit. His voice once more invited you to partake in picking the fruit, and your hand inched up, up, up, towards one. Your fingers had just wrapped around the fruit, ready to pluck it off the branch, when you woke up.

When you awoke the next morning, you went through the motions of your morning routine, strolling from your bathroom out to your kitchen, toothbrush sticking out of your mouth. You continued brushing your teeth with one hand as you grabbed the freshly popped toast from the toaster to put on a plate. As you went to lean over the kitchen sink to spit the toothpaste foam out of your mouth, your eyes got caught on something in the living room, which the sink overlooked. There was a small black pouch sitting on the coffee table, on the corner closest to the armchair.

After wiping your mouth off, you walked over to your coffee table, intrigue building as you picked up the velvet drawstring pouch. Looking around, you were only greeted by your empty apartment. This wasn’t here last night. Or at least, not before you went to sleep.

Pulling it open, you gently shook the contents out onto your palm. It was a silver bracelet, intricate filigree running along the band that was inlaid with gorgeous green and blue gems.

Jaemin’s words from dinner last night echoed in your head.

‘I do find it much more fun to let a human become suddenly awash with money and watch what happens when they eventually lose it all… It’s fascinating to find out your breaking point…’

A foreboding feeling colored your vision, and you rushed to tuck the bracelet back into the bag and throw it onto the table.

When Jaemin came that night, you were cooking dinner in your kitchen. He appeared there with you, leaning against the counter next to your sink as you were standing over the stovetop.

“Good evening, Y/N,” he greeted you.

“Hello, Jaemin.” You steeled your nerves, giving as nonchalant of a nod as you could towards the living room, “You left something here last night. It’s on the coffee table.”

The god regarded you with a tilted head, and you felt his eyes on your empty wrists, “That was for you.”

“I didn’t ask you for anything like that.”

“I know. It was a gift.”

“The job was plenty, Jaemin.”

He was silent as he continued to watch you cook. After a grueling couple of minutes of absolute silence, his eyes burning into you the whole time, you finally turned to properly look him in the face. Throwing on a smile, you informed him, “Dinner’s ready. Ravioli, would you like some?”

“Yes, please.”

You set two places at your dinner table before plating two portions of the pasta. Jaemin was still in his place next to the sink, observing your movements.

“Go ahead and sit, I’m just going to grab a couple glasses,” you gestured towards the kitchen table.

Without even waiting to see if he’d obey, you bustled over to a cabinet and took out two wine glasses, then grabbed a bottle of white wine you’d been meaning to finish off. When you turned back to the kitchen table, you were pleasantly surprised to see Jaemin waiting there patiently, fidgeting with his silverware. Setting the two glasses down, you noticed that Jaemin’s silverware was in different places than you had put them in when you hastily set the table. The fork was on the left of the plate, the knife and spoon on the right with the knife directly beside the plate and the spoon on the other side of the knife. Yours on the other hand were in the haphazard places atop the napkin that you had put them earlier.

“Apologies for the subpar fork placement,” you said, uncorking the wine to begin pouring it out first for Jaemin.

“Oh, it’s just a habit,” he explained. His tone then turned as teasing as yours had been, “My apologies for making you think your fork placement was anything other than above par.”

You then poured for yourself as you continued the banter, “Yeah, you know, I really pride myself on my utensil arranging skills. My feelings have been gravely wounded. I’ll never recover from this.”

“Then would you consider taking this,” he procured a small black pouch from his pocket, and you had a suspicion as to exactly what was in it, “as repentance, with my sincerest apologies?”

A bitter sigh came out of your mouth at him ruining the perfectly normal moment you were enjoying, “Jaemin, I told you I don’t want any more gifts from you.”

The way you spat out the word ‘gifts’ was apparently a lightbulb moment for him as he set the pouch down on the table and all playfulness dropped from his face. Disinterested in whatever he was going to say to try to convince you to take it, you picked up your fork, using the side of the tongs to cut one of your raviolis in half.

“Y/N…” he said your name almost wistfully, leaning forward towards you earnestly. “I really do just want you to have it. It’s not a test or a ruse, just… a token.”

“A token of what?” You snorted, spearing half of the ravioli that you’d just cut and bringing it up to your mouth.

“My affection?”

You choked momentarily on the pasta in your mouth, chewing and swallowing it as quickly as possible and taking a sip of your wine to wash it down. Jaemin still hadn’t touched his food, utensils undisturbed as he waited for you to collect yourself. When you searched his face for a smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes, anything to indicate that he was being less than truthful, you found none. You were just met with deep open pools of black in his eyes, his mouth set in seriousness, and his hand once again holding the pouch back out to you.

“Your what?”

“I know you heard me.”

“Yes, and now I’m asking for clarification.”

“I find you fascinating, and not in the morbid kind of way like I described to you last night. I’ve found myself starting to become fond of you, and I wanted to show that to you with a… present.”

“What, like getting your puppy a new chew toy because they’re so darn cute?”

Jaemin chuckled, “Not quite. But still, will you please accept it, Y/N?”

You thought it over for another moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek. He was being sincere, you were sure of it. You’d caught brief glimpses of the kinder side to Jaemin just in the few times you’d met him: when he’d leant you his suit jacket walking home last night, telling you he was hoping you’d continue being in love with your job, the gentlemanly peck he’d left on your fingers the night you’d made your deal. And now, as he patiently awaited your answer.

“Alright,” you agreed, taking the small bag from him. “Thank you, Jaemin.”

“Thank you for letting me give it to you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Pulling the bracelet back out of the pouch, you saw that it had a hinge mechanism on it that you couldn’t manage one-handed, and held it out to the god sitting in front of you, “Will you help me put it on?”

“Of course,” he took it, opening the band up with ease.

You held your right hand out towards him, and he brought the open bracelet up around your wrist. But you weren’t watching the way his deft fingers put it on around your wrist, the tips of them brushing over the sensitive skin at your pulse point, leaving coolness behind. You were watching his face as he focused on the task intently, his brows furrowing in concentration then relaxing after the bracelet had clicked shut. A small but tender smile took over his face, his eyes softening as he turned your hand over palm down, thumb running up your ring finger until it reached the silver band that resided there.

Your skin buzzed in the wake of his touch, an electric cold. You could hear your heart thudding in your ears and hoped that he didn’t have supernatural god hearing or something and could hear it too. If he did, he gave no indication of such. He withdrew his hands, leaving you more dazed than you should’ve been at the minimal contact you had. Jerking your hand back to your side of the table, you turned your gaze down at your food, trying to ignore how hot your cheeks were.

A light laugh came from Jaemin, but you couldn’t force your eyes back up to him, knowing that his were already on you.

That night you dreamt once more of the man cast in darkness, leading you to the tree of golden fruit. This time when he encouraged you to pick one, you grasped at the fruit with two hands, pulling it right off the branch with a firm tug.

Just about one month into your… arrangement with Jaemin, you were rooting through your fridge for something to make for dinner when there was suddenly a cool breeze on the back of your neck. Except you were indoors.

Spinning around, you were immediately met with the god extremely close to you, and let out an exasperated sigh, “God damn, Jaemin, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“I can’t help it if I make your heart race,” he grinned, the mischievous glint in his eye making your heart pound in a different way that it had been.

“Yeah, because you jumpscared me,” you rolled your eyes, shutting the fridge doors to then lean back against the appliance. “Anyway, it’s not looking like I have anything to make for dinner. You okay with eating out tonight?”

“More than, I was actually hoping you’d let me take you somewhere tonight.”

“Where?”

“My place. You’ve been such a gracious host this whole time, it’s time I repay the favor.”

“Your place, as in... the Underworld?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged nonchalantly, an enticing grin on his features. A grin that invited you to follow its owner to places you’d never been before. “I promise you’ll come back.”

“In one piece?”

“Of course.”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued, that you hadn’t tried to picture what the Underworld looked like. All you could come up with was the standard image of hell: flames, pitchforks, eternal torture. But now you were getting an invitation to go there with Hades and come back alive.

“And I’ll be back in time to go to work in the morning?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Alright, sure,” you finally acquiesced. “I’d love to, thank you for inviting me.”

Jaemin offered his hand out to you then, and you placed your atop. He gave yours a light squeeze, “Just focus on me, Y/N. Just look in my eyes.”

“Okay?” You agreed despite your tone pitching it up into a question, unsure of why exactly he was asking you to do that.

Nevertheless, you settled your gaze on his eyes, even as he drew you in closer by the light grip on your hand. You gave him an awkward half-smile, unsure of what exactly to do as you just stared him directly in the eye. His dark eyes had a calming effect, however, as you felt your breathing even out and your heartbeat slow. This close to him, and being able to unabashedly look at him, you were entranced by the unearthly quality to his beauty. It should have been disquieting, this spectral vision in front of you, but you just found yourself drawn even closer in body and mind.

Then suddenly everything around you was darker, as if someone had dimmed your kitchen lights. The air was cooler too, and you had the suspicion that you were no longer in your kitchen. But you were still looking at Jaemin, just like you said you would.

He was looking right back at you, unflinchingly, and a fond smile crossed his lips before he announced quietly, “We’re here. You can look.”

And you finally tore your eyes from him to take in your new surroundings. It was dark, just like you’d noted before, as if it were nighttime. The room you were in had black floors, black walls, and at the very tippy top of the black vaulted ceiling, a black wrought iron chandelier with flames glowing... blue? But you couldn’t focus on the flickering up above you as Jaemin’s fingers entwined with yours and he gently tugged you towards the other side of the room.

“Come on, this way.”

It looked like you were maybe in an entrance hall of some sort. It was then that you spotted a large black throne adorned with silver detailing and embellishments at the front of the room. Jaemin kept walking right past it, though, down an adjoining hallway.

Your wide eyes that had been taking everything in turned downwards to your hand that was holding Jaemin’s. His skin was the usual coolness you had come to expect, and your fingertips brushed against the multitudes of rings on his fingers. Seeing the lone silver band on your hand, the one that he was holding, made your face hot for some reason.

You passed through another doorway into a dining room. It contained a large dining table crafted from dark walnut wood, the twelve high-back chairs around it made of the same. A deep red table runner went across the length of the tabletop, matching the upholstery of the chairs. A feast was already laid out, and place settings for two of the seats were prepared.

Jaemin let go of your hand to pull out a chair for you. You thanked him quietly as you sat down, eyes still scanning over the food options. He sat in the chair caddy-corner to yours, at the head of the table.

“Go ahead, Y/N,” Jaemin encouraged you as he reached forward to grab the bottle of wine that had been on the table as well.

“Everything looks... so good,” you said, not sure what to try first.

He uncorked the bottle, pouring the red wine into your glass first, then his. When he put the bottle down, you still hadn’t moved, too overwhelmed with all the delicious-looking choices.

“Do I need to make your plate for you?” He teased, already standing and grabbing your plate.

“This is good, you’ll probably like this one, oh you’re going to love this one, everyone likes that, mmm definitely not that,” he mumbled to himself as he loaded up your plate with food after food.

Your heart did flips as you looked up at him, the simple kindness of his actions making you feel warm despite the coolness of the Underworld.

Jaemin set your plate back down in front of you between your utensils, spoon on the far right, then the knife beside the plate, and the fork on the left. You waited for him to prepare his own plate of food, then finally be seated. When he’d finished scooting his chair up to table, he looked up from what he’d been doing, eyes catching yours, and a small, affectionate smile crossed his lips before he grabbed his wine glass. Then a wide, charismatic grin overtook his features as he held his glass out towards you, and you followed his lead, picking yours up to clink them together.

“To one month of… you and I. Thank you for agreeing to come here tonight, Y/N.”

‘You and I.’ His words both squeezed your chest and made it feel airy, like someone was inflating a balloon inside of it.

“Thank you for hosting tonight, Jaemin. And here’s to one month of…” you took a sharp inhale as you stumbled through your mind for any other word but couldn’t find one in that moment. “Us.”

You saw Jaemin’s pale lips softly, silently repeat the word before pulling into an alluring smirk.

And you each took a sip of the wine before digging into your food and kicking off the discussion. Over your month of dinners and nighttime socializing with Jaemin, you were used to your conversations meandering between the casual catching up of your workday to the serious contemplations of life and the universe. After all, if you were dining with a god, you were going to pick his brain for some philosophical inquiry. But on the days where some of the medical malpractice or domestic pro bono cases had hit you exceptionally hard and you wanted to leave well enough alone, Jaemin let you keep the topics light and surface level, keeping it at office gossip and the like.

Tonight though, with the special venue on your mind, you immediately delved into the existential, “So what are humans to you?”

“How do you mean?” Jaemin arched an eyebrow at your question.

“You’re a god. You’ve lived for thousands of years. You’ve seen millions of humans live and die. Surely, we all just kind of… blur together for you. Seem the same. Inconsequential.”

“No, not at all.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m here,” you teased before returning to your debate. “Most of us live and die without ever leaving a lasting impact on the world. Not that I think that’s necessary for having lived a meaningful or good life, I think that making even one person smile means that someone lived a good life. But in relation to you, a god, surely that makes us all indistinguishable from one another.”

“Is a play bad because it ends? Is a flower no longer beautiful because it will wilt? I think that humans and your lives are so intriguing because they’re finite.” He was as impassioned as ever when getting into your metaphysical dialogues— voice strong with resolve, leaning forward towards you earnestly, brow set just the slightest not with anger but determination, and hair falling into his onyx eyes that looked into yours without hesitation. “An incalculable but unquestionably limited amount of time, one chance, and each of you choose to live differently.”

“You still think that every human life is different from all the others?”

“Of course.” Apparently sensing that he hadn’t convinced you yet, Jaemin continued with an example, “Just look at you and your friend Jeno. Sure, the two of you converged pretty closely in college, but he made the choice to begin his career while you made the choice pursue higher education. Your two lives aren’t the same.”

“There’s also another major difference between the two of us.”

At the imploring tilt of his head, you deadpanned, “Only one of us made a deal with Hades for a third of our life.”

“An astute observation, Y/N,” Jaemin chuckled, relaxing back in his chair now that you’d changed up the tone of the conversation.

When both of your plates and glasses were empty, Jaemin took you by the hand once again to guide you from the dining room, as he apparently wanted to show you something. You emerged onto a patio of some sort, but that wasn’t what you were focused on. In front of you was a tree maybe ten or fifteen feet tall, an elegantly thin and sloping trunk, and along its many branches were round golden fruit the size of your palm. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that came from you as you took in the dazzling sight. Everything about the tree was normal from the texture of the brown bark to the dark green leaves, and even the dappling of the outer shell of the pomegranates that grew on it looked real, aside from the gilded color. It was magical, and you were happy just to know that something so beautiful existed.

“Thank you for showing me this, Jaemin,” you said, turning to look at the god who had stopped beside you.

You thought that he’d be looking at the scenery too, but his eyes were on you. He had a familiar look on his face, a small, tender smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, dark eyes holding a latent warmth like coals after a fire, and you felt tempted to get even closer to indulge in it.

But instead, you steeled your nerves to ask, “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

Your tone wasn’t as accusatory as your words were, it was a sincerely curious question.

“Like what?” Jaemin was quick to reply with a question of his own, keeping his attitude light but genuine.

“You keep smiling at me with this soft little smile.”

“I keep doing it? When was I doing it before?”

“When we first got here, when you sat down at dinner tonight, and just now, when you brought me out here.” It had made your heart go haywire every time you noticed it, so you were able to list the instances from tonight off the top of your head. But that wasn’t all, there was a reason why it was imprinted into the back of your eyelids like a burned-out LCD screen, “It’s like… like… you want to kiss me.”

“I do,” Jaemin declared, eyes never leaving yours, voice never wavering, so damn sure of himself. Even as you were here in front of him feeling like you were nearly ready to rip your hair out from just a few little smiles from him.

He was always like this. So charming, so smooth, playfully talking around your questions. Pulling you along with him, dancing with you through your conversation. You had to meet him head on, even if it felt like you were going crazy doing so. You did it during your dinners, you could do it now too.

“Is that why you’re smiling at me like that?”

“Do you want me to? Kiss you?” He took a step towards you. For a brief moment he was all you could see, all dark hair, dark eyes, and silver earrings.

“I want to know why you look at me like that.” You stepped back from him, wrapped in the heady smell of his cologne. Cinnamon, bergamot, an earthy scent too maybe? Your head was swimming with it, but you needed to focus on the conversation at hand.

“And I want to know if you want me to kiss you or not.” Another step, once again narrowing the distance between you.

“I asked first, Jaemin,” you poked your pointer finger against his chest as a warning. “An answer for an answer.”

He stayed put, seeming to be fighting a delighted smirk from his face as he looked between your face and the finger you held up defensively between the two of you. Jaemin’s features relaxed as he clasped his hands together behind his back, looking into your eyes earnestly, “All of those times that I’ve been looking at you tonight, I was thinking to myself, ‘It feels like she’s come home.’ You just looked like you belonged here, in my home, with me. It felt like I belonged with you. And that made me want to kiss you. That’s why.”

Of all the answers you had been expecting, that hadn’t quite been one of them. Grand declarations of love were a faraway possibility, sure, you’d seen movies before. That’s not what this was, though. This was both more and less. You hadn’t anticipated for Hades’ answer to be so simple yet all-soul-encompassing as the idea of coming home. While everything tonight had definitely been new and unfamiliar to you, you hadn’t been intimidated or uncomfortable in any way. With Jaemin at your side, you’d been able to take it all in with wonder and an open mind, knowing that you had him right there watching over you.

“I believe you owe me an answer now too, Y/N.” Jaemin’s voice was quiet, low, meant only for you. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Your gaze fell to the finger you had to his chest, your right hand. It had lost all the force you started with, limp and simply resting against him. You could see the silver ring there, and lower on your arm was the bracelet he’d given you, both pieces of jewelry glinting in the hazy light afforded in the Underworld. You briefly wondered if they had come from here, from deep under the Earth; if they’d come home tonight, too. The god in front of you remained silent, waiting for your response. If there was one thing Jaemin was good at, it was waiting— after he’d given you his final push.

Then you finally looked back up at his face, into the sunken obsidian black that greeted you there. That ever-stubborn lock of raven hair was hanging between his brows, and you had a sudden and smitten urge to fix it. But you had something more important to do in that moment. After all, he’d given you his answer, now you owed him yours. And you’d made up your mind.

Your mouth had barely started forming around your answer before it was captured by Jaemin’s in a kiss that was equal parts tender and ravishing. It felt like he was trying to devour your ‘yes’ right off your tongue and keep it all to himself. Admittedly, your head had started nodding before your vocal cords could work.

If you thought you were swimming in spices and citrus before, you were drowning in them now. Cinnamon, oranges, and… cedar. Your hand that had previously been poking at his chest was now crumpling the collar of his dress shirt, the other hooking a finger in one of the belt loops at the front of his slacks to yank him closer. His own hands were doing their part, too. One cupped your cheek while the other held you by your waist. The sweetest nectar was being dripped into your veins, and you hungrily took more and more with each wanton kiss from Jaemin.

When his lips finally parted from yours, you couldn’t help but steal just one more kiss. He let out a breathy chuckle as he clasped a hand over the one you were grasping at his shirt with to gently pull it off, his thumb then rubbing slow circles into your palm. His hand that had been on your cheek dipped to gently grip your chin, and as he looked at you, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I’m home,” you promised.

The shadowy man was back in your dreams that night, and this time the golden fruit was already in your two hands. He was encouraging you to break it open, feed on its juicy flesh that he promises will taste so good.

You woke up before you could follow through on the decision you’d already made.

⤷ series masterlist ⤷ blog masterlist

#i: jaemin #jaemin #na jaemin #nct #nct dream #nct imagine #jaemin imagine #nct dream imagine #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #jaemin imagines #f: obsidian black #s: golden fruit #g: fluff #writing #text #mine #*100

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 3 months

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Hi, fellow English major here! Sorry if this is personal - are there any career paths you’d recommend? I’ve thought either journalism or academia (might do a masters for either!) though I’ve heard college teaching is now super precarious.

Well tumblr just ate everything I wrote. Grr.

This is a bit of a hard question to answer and it's really complicated, without knowing why you're into journalism or why you're considering teaching. I don't know a whole lot about these fields, but what I do know is that they both involve research, collaboration, writing, the day-to-day is different, and you have to be kinda peopley. If that sounds like you, then some other options to look into would be research, analysis, or librarianship.

Higher ed/college academia is...going through some things right now. (I've got friends in that world.) It's largely down to two things - one, culture wars and two, the demographic cliff. I don't want to discourage you from that if that's where your heart is, but it's going to be a difficult ride. Tenure isn't a guarantee anymore, you might have to move around more than you've expected, budgets are getting tighter and they're coming with a million more strings, and hiring is a bit stagnant. The message I hear from my higher ed friends is that if you want to go into higher ed or academia, you better make sure you're doing it for the passion, not the tenure or the paycheck.

And grad school. Only go if you're absolutely entirely 100% certain you need that master's to get the career you want. The economy being what it is, the interest rates being what they are, costs and fees being what they are, how fast and quickly certain fields are changing because of tech, I don't know that the value is there anymore if you're on the fence or you're doing it because it's what you're supposed to do. Grad school will still be there in a few years so you can always go back to school.

If you're open to a more broader perspective of the English major's postgrad experience and advice, then

In this essay I will give you a nonanswer answer in three parts:

What do you like about studying English? Why did you choose English in the first place?

It's not about the English lit. It's about the soft skills.

In the end, it doesn't actually even matter.

Colleges, universities, career offices, and departments really struggle with career advice and career planning. They only know what they know, right, so they have a tendency to promote the obvious career paths because that's what their experience is -- English majors go into academia, history majors go into museums, pre-med majors go into medicine, etc. However, that's just one option. I think it's harder for these folks to know what's really out there because they're just not familiar with it, and that's why they rely so much on their alumni to fill in the gaps but it still leaves students in the dark having to find their own way out. (I do think it's changing, though. My friends in higher ed said that there's a lot more focus "beyond the classroom" to prepare students for the real post-college life and more diverse careers.)

So let's get into it.

What do you like about studying English? What made you choose English in the first place?

Is it the reading? Do you like the debate and discussion? Is it the creative process? Do you like writing? Do you like the analysis? The research? If you narrow down why you like English, it can be super helpful finding "non-traditional" career paths.

For example:

If you like reading, then look at publishing or editing.

If it's the creativity or the creative process, then consider marketing or advertising.

If you like the discussions and debating plot points, maybe you're a lawyer.

If you like the community of book world, then maybe you're a bookseller or a librarian.

If you like writing and the writing process, definitely look into journalism, but there's also content editing, communications, technical writing, ghostwriting, food recipe writing, etc.

If you like analyzing literature, look into being an analyst.

If it's the research, go into research or research librarianship

And remember, these are just super broad and high-level career paths. Within each career field, there's a million different options to narrow it even further. Like librarians or writers or advertising.

It's not about the literature. It's about the soft skills.

Colleges and college students often think that the only career options they have are the ones that deal specifically in the hard skills their coursework studies - English majors become writers or teachers, history majors become historians, geography majors become geographers and mapmakers. But the reality is that the people who do exactly the work that their major studied are few and far between. Most of us end up with careers that have nothing to do with what we studied. For instance, in my friend group (there's about 9 of us) only one actually does the specialty he studied for - he has a physics degree and he does physicsy stuff for a lab. The rest of us are all over the place, like

the Chemistry major now does IT sales.

the Geography major is the International Studies director for a midsized university.

the French major is an accounts manager for a higher education consulting firm.

And it's all about the soft skills. Those are what set us up for success. Off the top of my head, these are the soft skills you're practicing in your English major coursework:

Reading and reading comprehension

Writing

Writing for different audiences (eg. you know Professor X is really into symbolism so your papers for his class will focus on symbolism, which is different from Professor Y who wants you to talk about literary theory, which is different from Professor Z who's obsessed with victorian panopticism so you know you need to include Foucault and -- shoot, that's my PTSD escaping.)

Analyzing different kinds of information and knowing the methods/tools (for instance, analyzing poetry is very different from analyzing scientific research)

Doing research (knowing how and where to find information)

Vetting sources

Speaking about and defending your work

Taking, incorporating, and giving feedback

Working on deadlines

Collaborating with people

Attention to detail

Organizing information

And guess what? This is the day-to-day work that all of us do in our careers. These are the tools necessary for success in pretty much anything: project/program/product management, sales, consulting, contracting, IT, business, HR.

So if you're having trouble finding work in a classically English field like journalism or academia or you can't figure out if you're qualified for a position, use these soft skills. If they show up in the description of duties/responsibilities, you're qualified! Apply! Don't focus too much on the job title or the company.

Take Kate for an example. Her degree is in art history, but she's never worked in a classical art history field - i.e., she's never worked in an art museum and she isn't having conversations on Remembrandt vs Van Gogh. But she is using her degree anyway - her attention to detail and her research skills means she shows up prepared every day, her knowledge of color theory means the photos she gives us of her family and their appearances are pleasing to look at, she can communicate easily to different audiences (eg outdoorsy clothes and casual attitude for Scouts vs coatdresses and formality for Westminster Abbey).

In the end, it doesn't actually even matter.

It really doesn't. Particularly for a humanities major, the more you lean into your soft skills, the easier it'll be to find a career path that works for you. Some examples...

If you like working with people, you love organizing things, and your attention to detail is *chefs kiss*, you might be a project manager and project managers are everywhere.

If you like writing, talking to people, and you're a planner, maybe you're a communications specialist or a speechwriter.

Maybe you like writing and you like doing research, but you don't want to go to grad school, look at becoming an acquisitions specialist or a contracting officer.

If you're into language and linguistics, maybe you're a book translator or an interpreter. (Just don't work with Omid Scobie!)

This is where I think college advisors struggle. They tell students to be open to possibility, but they don't tell you what possibility is. I remember going in for career advising and the conversation went something like this:

Me: I don't want to teach but I like writing and research. What can I do? Dr. S: You can do anything you want! Me: What does that mean? Dr. S: You don't have to teach! You can do whatever you want! Me: BUT WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN.

(Dr. S was later fired for drunk driving with students in the car so...she probably wasn't the best person for the department to appoint as the career advisor. Or Department Chair.)

It took me until about two years ago to realize what Dr. S meant by "you can do anything you want." She (and a lot of the people at my university) just didn't know how to explain what they meant. I think part of that is because "soft skills" wasn't really a thing a lot of people were talking about 10, 15 years ago outside a corporate environment, and it does seem to be changing now, and universities have begun teaching and showing students how to connect coursework, sports, clubs and student activities, and volunteering to soft skills and "business"-minded concepts.

Just be open to considering career paths that aren't traditionally lit-focused, like business or IT. It'll be the soft skills that set you apart and help you be successful, not how well you can you can argue symbolism or read seventeenth-century poetry or recite Shakespeare. Leave it for your hobbies.

So here's an example of what I mean by being open to other career paths. As I mentioned before, I do have a B.A. in English and my focus was modern American fiction. I went into college thinking that I'd be a writer or do something in movies - I was going to be either the American JK Rowling, the millennial Meg Cabot, or the female Aaron Sorkin. (Reader, I was not and will never be.)

But in reality, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I looked into publishing, high school teaching, college professorship, creative writing, scriptwriting, but nothing was panning out. Eventually I signed up for a summer internship program with the federal government (my parents were feds) thinking "at least I'll get my internship credit and know what NOT to do". The internship ended up being with a research library, I absolutely loved it, decided "this is it, I'm going to get my MSLIS and be a librarian and do research and write research papers forever!" (MSLIS is Master of Science in Library and Information Science). They invited me to come back again the next summer, which I accepted, and my dear amazing supervisor (let's call her "Marian") somehow convinced the bosses to pull me on full-time when the internship ended and to support my grad school coursework.

Went directly from undergrad to grad and hated it. 15 years ago was an interesting time in the library world; it was right when the field transitioning from information to data so it was less about working with research and more about organizing and using data. In effect, it was moving away from the world of books/information ("Englishy" type stuff) and moving fully into the realms of data and computer science. Not what I expected and for someone who was on the research librarian track, having to take classes on data analysis, computer science, website management, and HTML coding, it was torture. But that was where the industry was going so get on board or drop out. Meanwhile, the research library I was working in was also changing. We were changing from being a library and doing research to being a repository of databases and facilitating access to research. The bosses got wind that I was looking to jump ship and said:

"She's got a really weird brain full of really random stuff but ask her a question about something she looked up 3 years ago and she can remember exactly what it was, where she found the information, how it applied to whatever you need, and the exact notebook she wrote it down in. She knows how to get information from people so let's make her a sub-project manager on this new database tool with Bob to see if she's as good as Marian says she is and maybe we can steal her from the librarians because they're all retiring soon anyway." (I'm paraphrasing here but yes, they specifically wanted me because I have a crazy attention to detail.)

So I abandoned the librarians (they were all retiring anyway and were like two resignations away from reorganizing the department), went over to the IT side to become a project manager and one month into the project with Bob, Bob was in a horrible car accident, had a severe TBI, and ended up taking medical retirement because his recovery was going to be years long. (Bob's okay now. I had dinner with him last month.)

I did not get a new PM to shadow or partner with. I was left to do the whole thing on my own with a senior devops team who didn't like that a no-nothing 24 year old kid was in charge of them. But it all worked out in the end. I earned devops' loyalty, we had fun, we impressed the client, the bosses were happy and I found that I really liked project management and even better, I was really good at it. I did that for ten years, until one of the bosses who'd left about four years prior (and with whom I still kept in touch, who knew I didn't like the techy database stuff they kept pushing me into) said "psst, hey, come work for me" and I said "can I start tomorrow."

So very long story short, being open to possibilities is how I ended up a) working for the federal government, b) falling into IT and project management, and c) now doing policy analysis and program evaluation. I didn't even know English majors could do this kind of stuff 15 years ago. I thought you had to have business degrees for all this.

What I mean is you don't need to abandon your interests in journalism and academia. If that's what you want to do, you go girl (or guy or they) - all the English majors are here rooting for you. But if you're not sure, don't close yourself off from the non-traditional English career paths.

And also don't worry too much about it. You'll find what you were meant to do, whether you figure it out right now or it takes you 4 years and grad school or it takes you 10 years.

Maybe you do go into journalism, and it's not for you. Dust off your list of soft skills and polish your resume and go find your next step. Or maybe you go into academia, realize you don't like teaching, but hey, that job in Student Affairs looks interesting -- go for it! What have you got to lose?

You probably weren't expecting another literal essay on this, so my apologies for that. But in my defense, I did say it was a complicated question to answer!

Please, feel free to ask more questions! I promise to try to be less long-winded. (No guarantees, though.)

Also a tip about resumes. I am horrible at writing resumes but I found this incredible tool called Jobscan.co. You upload your resume and the job listing you're applying to, and then it compares them and flags things in your resume based on the job listing and suggests tips to improve. It's based on the same ATS optimization technology that real hiring managers use to screen their applicants.

#ask #college thoughts #in this essay i will #english majors #thus was born the spreadsheet nerd

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msunitedstatesjames · 7 months

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I felt a little bit bittersweet when this came in the mail the other day.

I came a little late to the Terry Pratchett fandom.

I first read one his books (Nation) probably around 2008 or 2009, when I was still in high school and saw it on the new YA shelf at my local library. I remember seeing his name on the cover and seeing that he was a "bestselling author," which apparently impressed me at the time, so I picked it up. I do remember liking it overall, though when I look back I have a feeling that I thought it was a little odd, and I didn't feel the distinct need to go out and search for his other works. Being a teen is weird, I was still developing my sense of humor and analysis skills and all that, so, like many books, I really should reread it now that I'm an adult. At the very least, it left some kind of an impression on me, because at the time I was in the reading frenzy of a girl who would shortly become an English major and eventually an English teacher. I've forgotten a lot of the titles and authors I read in those years, but for some reason I never forgot that one.

I really didn't think much more about Terry Pratchett for years. I remember seeing the news when he passed away, and I was like, "Oh, yeah, he's the guy that wrote Nation." But I'm an American, and though he clearly has lots of fans here, he didn't seem to have the kind of widespread devotion that he had overseas, so I don't think I realized until then that Terry had a hugely devoted fan base. I kept seeing more and more articles and posts about him, and I read some, and I remember thinking, "Wow, this really sucks. This guy was really loved. Maybe I'll have to look at more of his work some time." But at the time I was in grad school, and I was starting my career, and I didn't have time to read for fun as much as I had a few years before.

Another few years later, in my mid-twenties, I joined a couple of Facebook groups devoted to fantasy and sci-fi. I was still transitioning from reading lots of YA fantasy and sci-fi to more "adult" market fantasy and sci-fi, and I joined the groups to get some different recommendations. Terry Pratchett was one of those names that kept coming up over and over. When people asked about humorous books he was always mentioned, when people asked for all time favorite authors he was a popular choice, when people asked for favorite quotes his words featured prominently, when people asked for long series recommendations he was obviously recommended, when people argued about which of the Big 3 Terrys of fantasy were the best, he always won. You get the picture. And again I thought about reading more of his work, but I still didn't.

Finally, Good Omens season 1 came out. It must have been marketed pretty successfully because I really wasn't seeking it out. I love fantasy, but I've never really cared for the whole 'angels and demons' sub-genre. I didn't really have an opinion on David Tennant or Michael Sheen at this point (don't come at me, Tumblr), and I'd read a few Neil Gaiman books and enjoyed them, but I wouldn't have gone around shouting about him in the streets or anything (still don't come at me, Tumblr). But I'd seen the book recommended in my Facebook groups, and I kept seeing trailers for it and thinking it looked entertaining, so I decided to do what any book-snob English teacher would do and read the book before I watched the show. That didn't last very long, because I loved the book so much from page one that I immediately wanted to watch the show and see if it could possibly live up to the book. But I also didn't want to spoil the ending of the book, so I ended up having a pretty weird but ultimately interesting experience with Good Omens, where I would read a chunk of the book, then watch an episode of the show, hoping it would cover the chunk I'd just finished reading. It was awesome, and I'd go back and do it the same way all over again if I had the chance.

And Good Omens acheived what the rest of the world hadn't been able to do, which was convince me to read more Terry Pratchett. I did what everyone in my fantasy groups told me not to do, and decided to read Discworld in publication order. I loved book one so much that I couldn't believe it when everyone said it was perhaps the weakest book in the series, so I did what I almost never do and read eleven books by the same author over the course of the year. Since then, I've slowed down to only reading about four of his books a year, but I almost never read more than two books in a year from any other given author, so it's still pretty impressive. I've loved every one of them. I love the dry sense of humor, and the subtle and not so subtle social commentary, and every time I read one of his books I just think, "this dude must have been so intelligent." He parodies and satirizes everything, which is hard to do if you don't have a good understanding of the thing you're parodying first. This dude's over here making up parody fantasy versions of physics concepts, and I'm like, "this probably makes sense to a person who actually knows about science."

Anyway, he's now my second most read author (and he will be my most read author by this time next year), and he's become one of my go to authors when people ask me for my favorite writers. And the Good Omens fandom has become my favorite fandom ever since season 1 of the show came out.

I've been so grateful for rediscovering Terry Pratchett, but it all makes me a little sad, too. It makes me wish I'd read more of his work earlier. It would have been so cool to be a part of his fandom when there were still Discworld books coming out, and the fandom was full of nothing but hope and excitement for future books. It's sad to know that eventually I'll have read all of his books, and there won't be any new ones for me to pick up. I know I can always reread, but it'll still be sad. I'm happy at least that there are still so many cool people working on continuing his legacy in a variety of ways.

So, when I heard A Stroke of the Pen was coming out, probably late this past summer, I immediately knew I wanted it. At first, I thought it'd be a good book to put on my Christmas list. (Everyone in my family pretty much knows if they're stuck on what to buy me, books are always a win.) But then I thought about it, and I realized it would almost certainly be the only Terry Pratchett book I'd ever be able to say I bought when it was new. (Except the graphic novel version of Good Omens, which I'm eagerly anticipating.) So, I preordered it instead of waiting.

I probably won't read it anytime soon. I opened it up and read Neil Gaiman's foreword, and it made me tear up a little, so I set it aside, just like I did with Terry's biography when I got that for Christmas last year. But even though it's not the next Terry Pratchett book on my list, it's nice to know there will be another one waiting for me when I'm ready for it.

#terry pratchett #gnu terry pratchett #a stroke of the pen #discworld #books

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soldier-poet-king · 15 days

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Someome tell me I'm being ridiculous worrying abt this POTENTIAL event which is more than a full calendar year away

Stressed myself out abt all the work stuff I was blogging abt earlier today

None of it is insurmountable but I DO worry about it because it's very much freedom of information core of the profession vs optics and playing nice with where we get money

I knew this was part of the job I think I'm more nervous actually faced with it, having not met with my boss yet to discuss it (and I KNOW he'll support me and will be willing to offer advice)

Partially just adjusting ig to the higher expectations and responsibility of this position. I asked for it. I'm not complaining. It's just new and I have 0 self confidence and am afraid of bothering my colleagues, even tho I know I have the foundational skills and adaptability to thrive here

Long term this is worrying beyond just this one project, because I /need/ everything about this position to work out well

I'm technically on a long term contract rn til fall 2025. Full time salaried with benefits, but technically a contract. That's how most ppl start off at my workplace.

There's no guarantee that it'll turn into another contract or smthn permanent. But it's not unheard of, even if it's via a transfer to another sub-department in the institution.

So I want everything to go well and all the fancy higher ups to like me so if a position DOES open up I can be the top contender for it

I want that not just for career wise. But also being paid and having money for rent reasons. My current place has a great union and decent contracts. I'm not loaded but I have enough to live decently and save long-term. I'd like to stay here if possible.

If a new position doesn't materialize at the end of this. I'm worried about housing? Given the lease cycles of 12 months, it'll be right in the middle of my next lease (assuming I rented the place I'm at now).

I'm petrified of having to move back in with my family. AGAIN.

It almost killed me once after grad school. I can't do it again. I'll be nearly 30 at that point. I can't do it.

Ive only been moved out for 5 days and I'm already just breathing easier, shoulders relaxing, I feel so much lighter.

But. All of this is like. A potential dependent on another potential dependent on another potential that is all more than a year away

And YET I can't calm down my brain is like you must sit here in AGONY and rethink these thoughts in circles until you solve it and come to a different conclusion than the only one available (I have to try my best and wait to see how things go. I can't do anything about it ATM)

But my brain refuses I am forced to sit here and rethink and rethink and rethink until I discover some secret solution that will magically ease my anxiety, if only I think it over just one more time..just one more time. Just one more time

Damn John green was right ocd thought patterns really are turtles all the way down

#the duality of fran #dont even get me started on my more regular ocd compilations #compulsions #this is like #.vacation. comparatively #wahhhhh

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