#and i think the family trauma shit that was going on last year definitely contributed to that. idk sense of doubling across time? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy

Summary: Spencer's gay. He joins the BAU and befriends the team, but it is 2003. It's a secret he has to keep. He just didn't expect it to be this hard.

Tags: gay!spencer, coming out, hurt/comfort, insecure!spencer, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, dad hotch, protective!hotch, protective!derek, childhood trauma TW: one instance of explicit homophobia, but it is referenced a lot, as is Spencer's internalised homophobia at the start of this fic. A shit ton of heteronormativity but tbh that's just canon lol

Pairing: Spencer Reid/OMC, Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner, The BAU Team & Spencer Reid

Word Count: 6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Consider this my contribution to pride month 😌 I've waited so long to post it and I'm so glad I'm finally doing it because it's definitely one of my all time favourites <3 Gideon is here somewhere but just like with all my early season fics he's not really part of the plot I combined my moreid and gen taglists bc it was hard to know the audience for this, but just ignore it if you're not interested!

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore. — richard siken, a primer for the small weird loves

Spencer has only told one person in his whole life.

His mother guessed. For as long as he can remember, she’s used gender neutral pronouns when talking about his future partner, read him all the gay literature she could find, promised him that he’s perfect just the way he is.

The trouble is that Spencer only believes her until the first grade, when Ryan Sampson shoves him over in the playground and calls him gay. His mom had only ever used that term in a sweet, loving way, taking care to associate such words with positivity, as long as his dad wasn’t around to hear. When that word comes out of Ryan Sampson’s mouth, it is not said with sweetness and love; it is said with venom, and Spencer learns quickly that his mom is wrong. He is not perfect just the way he is.

And so, he keeps it a secret. When his mom notices him getting uncomfortable at the mention of future partners, she stops bringing it up, though she refuses to give up the diverse education she provides for him outside of school. His dad tells him that one day he’ll be a strapping young man and marry a nice girl in a church, and Spencer nods along. He ignores the way his stomach turns with anxiety at the thought. Ignores the screaming match his parents have that night. Ignores the fact that it started because Diana chipped in with ‘or boy’.

He’s in high school by the time he’s twelve, and the only part he’s grateful for is the absence of pressure to get a girlfriend. His dad’s out of the picture now, and Spencer tries not to let himself think that maybe if he wasn’t like this he might have stayed. Diana’s so out of it most days that she doesn’t remember what she noticed about him when he was a child, only recalling the last few years of shoving himself so far back in the closet he can hardly see the door anymore.

It feels like he’s lost his last ally.

(He hates that a small part of him feels relieved she doesn’t remember; that he almost feels assured by the fact that the last person to know who he really is has forgotten. There is only this version of Spencer Reid now. No other exists.)

He makes the mistake during his second undergraduate degree. He’s just turned eighteen but he is already a doctor and, fortunately, this alienates him from most of his peers, but someone manages to slide past his defences. Ethan Miller is twenty, in the second year of his (first) undergraduate degree in Chemical Engineering, and he’s nice. Spencer doesn’t have a lot of experience with friendship, but they get on well and Ethan makes him laugh. For the first time, he feels comfortable in the presence of anyone other than his mother.

They slip into an easy friendship: waiting for each other after class — Spencer back in the undergraduate buildings now he has his first PhD under his belt — and going out for ice cream and pizza and Thai food. Ethan goes to parties while Spencer studies, and then they reconvene to watch Doctor Who and play cards.

For almost a year, Spencer keeps his secret carefully locked up, hidden behind the mask he’s perfected after so many years. Even though he’s eighteen, nearly nineteen now, he doesn’t try and explore that side of himself. No, that’s far too risky. He doesn’t try and pretend any other way either, he just stays silent and lets people’s assumptions lie for him, but he can’t help the longing that claws up his throat when he locks eyes with a passing guy on campus. One time, he’d seen two men kiss on a bench in the city, and he’d run back to his dorm and had a panic attack. Why couldn’t he have that?

The feelings don’t stop, and he doesn’t know how to make them. He hates that he isn’t normal, but still longs for the touch of a man, the feeling of being wrapped up in strong arms, of being kissed by dry, chapped lips, and falling asleep to a heartbeat approximately 11% slower than that of a woman’s.

It’s a constant battle inside him, emotions raging, and he struggles to control it, suppress it, tame it.

He pays a sorry price.

Ethan makes him feel comfortable, and that turns out to be a detriment. He relaxes around the other boy: he tells him about growing up as a pre-teen in a high school, about how a child feels living 260 miles away from home, even about his mother’s illness.

And one day, it slips out. They’re on the beach, lying on towels as they look up at the blue sky, talking about what their futures will look like: Ethan will be a successful chemical engineer in Berlin, and Spencer will work for the FBI, profiling serial killers.

“You’ll have to marry a German girl,” he tells Ethan. “It’ll be tough to convince an American girl to move all the way to Germany as soon as you graduate.”

“Yeah, and what about you? You’ll be off fighting crime around the country, not much of a life for a family.”

“Oh, I imagine my husband will be the type to—”

“Husband?”

Spencer freezes. It shocks him as much as it shocks Ethan. He doesn’t even pay much attention to Ethan’s disgusted face and his outraged tirade. He hears slurs and insults, hears him say that he can’t believe Spencer tricked him like this, that he was probably waiting to make a move on him, that he was never to look in Ethan’s direction again, but Spencer is frozen in time.

He’s never allowed him to think much about what his personal life might look like in the future, but he’d said ‘husband’ on instinct, without thinking, and it’s clearly something he actually wants. Ethan’s words sting, but the moment brings about a realisation Spencer is thankful for; it instigates a journey of self-discovery and self-expression, of the joy of living as your true self.

He loses his first and only friend, but he gains something much more valuable. He visits gay bars — nervously sipping a non-alcoholic drink in the corner at first, before soon becoming confident enough to respond to the men who sidle up to him and ask for his name. He lets go and dances the night away, sometimes going home with one of the many dance partners he acquires during the night, sometimes heading back to his own dorm happily alone.

Makeup and dresses and skirts and heels make their way into his wardrobe, and he befriends girls and drag queens and other gay men who encourage him to be exactly the way he is. And the best part is, he never has to come out to any of them. All of them know, and that’s good enough for everyone.

The fun comes to a sad sort of slow, however, when he joins the BAU. Everyone knows law enforcement’s relationship with the LGBT community is less than adequate — Spencer’s seen it with his own eyes: butch lesbians and men in dresses getting roughed up by angry police officers for ‘lewd behaviour’ or ‘drunkenness’ when they’re just being themselves. It’s not safe for him to tell anyone, so he doesn’t.

He still goes out with his friends when he’s in town and wears makeup and dresses and crop tops when he’s at home, but presents as rigidly straight Dr Spencer Reid to his team at the BAU.

The hardest part about it is that he loves his team. He’s known Gideon for years — and he wouldn’t be surprised if he suspects something after coming over to his house unannounced one night, only to have a man other than Spencer open the door — but he settles into a comforting dynamic with Hotch. He can’t help but see him as something of a father figure, and he knows Hotch has a soft spot for him, always looking out for him and taking him under his wing without a moment’s hesitation.

Elle, JJ, and Penelope all take a shine to him, too, teasing him without a hint of malice in their tones, only the kind of playful kindness that reminds him of his mother. He forms a special bond with Penelope and they spend hours watching Doctor Who together and geeking out on all the areas their interests overlap, and the comfort he feels with her matches the comfort he’s found with his new group of queer friends.

(She doesn’t hold a candle to Ethan, he decides one night, after he’d cried at a movie she’d made him watch and she felt so bad she made him hot chocolate and jam toast and cuddled him until he felt better.)

Derek becomes a brother to him. He puts him in a headlock at least once a day — which Spencer has been reliably informed by multiple sources is a very brotherly thing to do — and teases him relentlessly, while simultaneously being fiercely protective of him. Enough so, that Spencer sometimes wonders if he even has Hotch beat in that department.

He loves his team and his team loves him. It should be simple. It is still 2003.

He comes in one morning late for a briefing, his shirt buttoned wrong and his hair is a mess, and he’s fairly sure that his attempt to cover the hickey at the base of his neck with concealer has been ultimately unsuccessful. It’s obvious why he’s late. Gideon is too engrossed in the case file to notice, but Hotch raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face as everyone else immediately takes to teasing him.

“Who’s the lucky lady, pretty boy?”

Elle raises an eyebrow to match Derek’s shit-eating grin, “Someone definitely got some strange last night.”

“When do we get to meet her, Spence?” JJ asks, smirking as he takes a seat.

He’s bright red — as if he needed to look any more debauched — and Spencer tries to ignore the hurt that seizes his chest at the reminder of his need to stay quiet. This team respects him, and he can’t throw that away just because Spencer gets too comfortable.

God, he wishes Penelope was here.

“None of your business,” he mutters, trying to keep his tone light. He fails.

Naturally, Hotch notices and swiftly moves the briefing on, and Spencer keeps his gaze locked on the case file, not missing the absence of a reprimand from his superior. He’s constantly thankful for the older man, but in this moment, he wishes he could hug him.

(A voice that sounds dangerously close to Ethan’s rises up and taunts him in his ear: he wouldn’t want a dirty homo like you anywhere near him—)

Derek doesn’t let up on the case, continuing to bug him about the special lady in his life. He does concede that it could’ve been a one night stand, which is one front he’s right on, but a couple more concessions are necessary before Derek comes close to the truth of last night.

Eventually, Derek stops, and Spencer notes that the cessation of comments comes suspiciously close to the last time Derek and Hotch were alone together. He doesn’t have it in him to feel angry at Hotch for stepping in when he had it handled; doesn’t have the energy to act as though his pride is wounded, because really, neither of those things are true, and he doesn’t need to add another item to ‘Spencer Reid’s List of Things He Pretends to Be.’

The situation is forgotten, and time moves on.

Things change when he finds his first proper boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the giddying rush of emotions it turns out to be, and Spencer spends his days smiling as he daydreams his time away.

His name is Oscar Wilkins, a History professor at Georgetown University, and Spencer falls quickly in love with him. Ever since their mutual friend had introduced them at a gay bar one evening, they’d spent all their free time together. He’s kind and gentle and understanding of Spencer’s hectic and unpredictable job, and he finally has the chance to experience everything he quietly and shamefully longed for as a teenager.

The only downside is the silent breaking of Spencer’s heart that the most important people in his life can’t meet his boyfriend. He longs to show Oscar off, to hold hands in front of his team, lean up to press a tender kiss to Oscar’s lips. He wants to put a framed picture of the two of them at the Washington Monument on his desk to remind him of why he needs to get through the hard days; he doesn’t want to have to sneak out of the hotel room he shares with Derek to whisper hushed, loving goodnights over the phone.

But he’s too scared. Too cowardly.

It’s different being who he is with his gay group of friends littered with wlws and drag queens and other gay and bisexual guys. They understand.

But Derek and Hotch are two extremely masculine, alpha men: Derek’s a ladies’ man and Hotch is married to a woman he met in college with a baby on the way and both have a strong and dominant energy that still sometimes manages to intimidate Spencer even after all these years. And Elle and JJ are lovely — some of his closest friends, really — but sometimes they remind him a little too much of the mean girls he went to high school with.

The hardest person to keep his secret from, though, is Penelope. She’s his best friend and he desperately wants to give her all of him, but he’s so scared. He’s lost a best friend to this secret before, and even though he’s certain she’d be fine with it, what if she accidentally let it slip to Derek? What if Hotch found out and didn’t see him in the same light anymore? What if the girls started teasing him? What if Gideon didn’t want to mentor him anymore?

The fear paralyses him. And it’s a cycle he doesn’t know how to break.

Fear, though, doesn't stop everyone from noticing his daydreaming, his dopey smile when he checks his messages, his urgency to get home where he would’ve stayed until the small hours of the morning before. As excellent as he is at hiding his sexuality, he’s fucking terrible at hiding the fact that he’s in love: it was easy enough to pretend he was straight, but hiding something this all-consuming is an impossible ask.

Derek comes over to perch on the edge of his desk one afternoon, sighing as he sits down. “Pretty boy, this is getting ridiculous,” he says, snatching Spencer’s attention away from his phone. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot for the last twenty minutes as you’ve texted Future Mrs Reid. When are we going to meet her?”

(He hates the new nickname the team has given his mystery significant other, although Oscar had found it hilarious. “It’s funny because when we get married, we’ll hardly be able to tell,” he’d argued through his laughter. “Neither of us will change our name because of our academic profiles, and we’ll both still be ‘Dr’. Our wedding rings will be the only indicator.”

Spencer hadn’t argued back, because he’d been too tongue-tied and flushed pink at Oscar’s use of ‘when’ in regards to their hypothetical nuptials. It was only made bearable by Oscar kissing him gently and tucking him under his arm, not embarrassing him any further as Spencer had sort of anticipated, warmth settling over his chest at the thought of their future together.)

“You won’t,” he replies, perhaps a little too curtly.

Derek starts at that, clearly not expecting it. He definitely should’ve tried to play it off as a joke. “What— should I be offended, pretty boy?”

You wouldn’t call me that if you knew who I really am.

“That’s up to you, Derek,” he says calmly, although he still can’t meet his eyes, “but you won’t meet the ‘Future Mrs Reid, so I think it would probably be best if you left it alone.”

“Damn,” Derek mutters under his breath, clearly pissed off and probably more hurt than Spencer ever intended. “Suit yourself.”

And with that, he gets up and leaves his desk. Spencer’s only solace is the text message he sees on his phone when he picks it back up: I love you so much. You know that, right?

The light-hearted ridicule comes to an abrupt halt after the incident with Derek, and it’s clear that he had been the biggest contributor to the teasing. He’s thankful that the jokes have stopped, but he wishes desperately that it didn’t come with the growing distance between him and his team. Loneliness takes the place of his previous irritated anxiety, and he isn’t sure what’s worse.

It all comes to a head at the end of a case in Michigan. They’re stuck in the lounge of the small inn they’d stayed in the last few days, a snowstorm having blocked them in and grounded the jet, although Gideon had long since retreated to his room. The fire’s going and they’re the only guests around, so it’s cosy enough, but Spencer can’t help but feel sick at the idea of another night away from home.

It’s only been two weeks since he’d snapped at Derek, but the chasm between him and the team is only widening with each passing day. He knows it’s not a case of ‘pick a side’, but the team’s morale relies on light-hearted banter and teasing, and him not being a part of that anymore has only brewed awkwardness. Everyone’s trying to give him space when space is the last thing he wants.

Oscar’s keeping him company over the phone at least, but it’s not quite enough to quell the loneliness swimming around his stomach, and the 'discrete' sideways looks he gets from the team only make him feel worse.

“At least it’s nice and toasty in here,” JJ sighs as she takes a sip of the hot chocolate the kindly inn owner had made for them all.

Elle hums in agreement. “There are worse places to be grounded.”

“I dunno, man, I just wanna get home,” Derek says, not taking his eyes off the fire. Spencer can’t help but agree.

“Oh, come on,” Hotch muses, considerably more jovial now the case is over, “we’re here, and that’s not going to change any time soon. We should make the most of it.”

“It’s at least nice to be somewhere sort-of Christmassy now it’s December,” Elle points out. “We could be stuck in a dingy police station like we probably will be next week.”

“Ooh, I noticed that Jemimah and Kiran started planning the Christmas party last week,” JJ says, smiling at them. “I offered my help, but they seem to have it covered.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow“That’s probably a good thing. You don’t need more work on your plate.”

“Not gonna argue with that,” she murmurs, smiling as she brings her mug to her lips again.

Spencer doesn’t miss that Derek is still stewing on the opposite side of the room.

“Are you looking forward to the Christmas party, Spencer? Will you come?” Hotch asks, clearly trying to rope him into the conversation, which he appreciates. He’s been making a lot of effort with him the past few weeks, and it’s just about the only thing that’s getting him through each day.

Before he can reply, though, Derek erupts from the other side of the room; an already pissed-off man being pushed over the edge. “He won’t even let us meet his fucking girlfriend, Hotch, he’s not gonna want to come to the Christmas party!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air as he glares at Spencer with a stormy expression raging across his face.

Suddenly, Spencer can’t stay silent anymore, and his retort shocks himself just as much as it does everyone else. “I don’t have a girlfriend!”

It might be the loudest he’s ever shouted in his whole life. He’s always been quiet and restrained, the type to state his feelings as calmly as possible no matter how he’s feeling on the inside. Even in the biggest fight he’s had with Oscar, his voice was barely loud enough to qualify as a shout.

There’s a brief stunned silence, but Derek quickly slices his way through it, voice raising to meet Spencer’s fiery emotion, fierce and loud. “Oh, don’t even go there, Reid, you’re really gonna try and argue that? You’re gonna lie about her as well as not let us meet her? What a boyfriend you are.”

“I don’t! I don’t have a girlfriend!” he repeats, voice catching this time as tears rise unbidden to the backs of his eyes and all the emotions of the journey he’s taken with his sexuality over the years flood him in a wave of intensity he’s not prepared for.

“You’re fucking lying—!”

“I have a boyfriend!” he yells. “Alright? I have a boyfriend. I’m gay.”

The anger and emotion quickly dissipates, and he’s left standing alone in front of the team he’s put so much effort into hiding this from, watching shock spell out across everyone’s expressions. He’s never felt smaller than he does in that moment, and he quickly grabs his phone before running upstairs to his room, locking the door behind him.

“Oh God, Oscar, I fucked up so bad,” he cries over the phone as soon as his boyfriend picks up.

“Hey, hey, breathe, baby,” Oscar says gently, but Spencer can hear the anxious concern in his voice, “it’s gonna be okay, I promise. I’m here. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I just— Oh God, I just told the team.” A new wave of horror rolls over him as he realises what he’s done. Times might be changing, but it’s still only 2006, and he doesn’t know each and every nuance of his team members’ political positions and, fuck, he hates that his existence is a fucking political position.

Oscar’s been so understanding of his reluctance to not tell the team, even though Spencer’s met pretty much everyone in his life. He isn’t sure what he’s done to earn such a gracious and understanding boyfriend, but he’s not about to question it.

“Baby, I know it’s scary, and I know you’re really worked up right now,” he counsels, voice soft and reassuring, using the nickname he knows Spencer loves the most to make him feel as safe as he can from 700 miles away, “but it’s probably not as bad as you think. From what you’ve told me about the team, they love you so much, and even in the case that in the past they've had some issue with gay people, I can't imagine they’d ever actually think of you any differently when it comes down to it, Spencer.”

He’s crying too hard to reply, and Oscar understands immediately, gently transitioning into a story about his day that slowly starts to calm him down, and by the time he’s wrapping it up, his tears are starting to subside.

“Thank you, Ozzy,” he whispers into the phone, lifting himself up off the floor and making his way to sit on the bed instead.

“You know I’d do anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs warmly. “Do you want me to stay on the phone for a bit?”

“Yes please,” he whispers again, holding it as close to himself as possible, drawing all the comfort he can from his boyfriend’s voice.

He lies there listening to Oscar’s voice and trying not to think about the disaster downstairs for a good ten minutes before there’s a tap at the door.

“Oz, there’s someone here,” he says, voice panicked.

“I think you should probably speak to them, baby,” he urges. “I’ll stay on the phone with you while you do, if you like?”

“Please.” He gets up from the bed gingerly, keeping his phone tightly gripped in his right hand as he slowly unlocks the door with his left, revealing Hotch on the other side.

“Hey, Spencer. Do you mind if I come in?”

He’s riddled with nerves, but Hotch is smiling warmly, and he’s never said a harsh word to Spencer, so he steps aside and lets him into his room.

Hotch quickly notices the phone in his hand, visibly still on a call. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Spencer nods.

“Do you mind if I talk to him?”

His brows knit in confusion and his lips part slightly in surprise, but it’s all he can do to hand the phone over, watching Hotch carefully.

“Hi, Spencer tells me this is his boyfriend?” Hotch inquires politely into the phone, his tone still warm. “I’m Hotch, Spencer’s boss.”

He can vaguely hear Oscar speaking on the other end of the line, and he worries slightly that Oscar will somehow give away the familial feelings he holds for Hotch, but the conversation doesn’t last long enough for the anxiety to really take over.

“Everything’s fine here, I just want to have a conversation with Spencer, so is it alright if we hang up and I talk to him alone for a minute? He can call you straight back afterwards.” After a brief pause in which Oscar says something, Hotch looks back up at him. “Are you okay with that, Spencer?”

He nods hesitantly, and Hotch says a quick goodbye to Oscar before surging forwards and wrapping Spencer in a hug. It catches him off guard, but he doesn’t waste any time in burying his face into Hotch’s neck and soaking in the comfort and warmth that always radiates from his father figure.

“Come on,” Hotch says softly as they pull away a good minute or so later, “let’s sit down, shall we?”

“You’re not mad?” Spencer can’t help but ask, the question burning his tongue as anxiety — however quietened from Hotch’s hug — still swims around in his stomach.

“There are many things that could make me mad, Spencer,” he says earnestly, “but this is not one of them. I would never be angry at you for being who you are, okay? I might… I might be overstepping here, and if I am, then tell me and I’ll back off, but I’ve always seen you as a mentee, and over the years that’s developed— well, I see you more as a son these days. And part of that is wanting to protect and support you no matter what you do or say or who you are.”

Spencer wastes no time in diving back in for a hug, clinging onto Hotch for dear life as he hugs back, rubbing his back gently.

“I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us sooner, Spencer,” he says in a voice soft with affection and regret. “But I’m so glad you’ve told us now.”

He only presses closer at that, tears springing back to his eyes. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He knows what he’s implying, and even in a roundabout way, he’s glad he’s telling Hotch.

“Oh, Spence,” he sighs sadly, “you couldn’t do a single thing to lose me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“Really?” he asks, hating how insecure he sounds.

“Really,” Hotch promises, pulling away as Spencer does. “Now, you have a whole team of agents downstairs who are feeling very sorry for themselves and really want to see you.”

Nausea rolls in his stomach and panic springs back up as he looks at Hotch, desperate for some sort of grounding. “Are they angry at me? Do they hate me now?”

“No one hates you, Spencer,” he says firmly. “I promise you that. Everyone just wishes that they’d made you feel more welcome and comfortable. We all hate that you felt you had to lock up something so integral to who you are, and we can’t help but feel we played a part in it.”

“No,” he protests — the last thing he wants is family blaming themselves when it has nothing to do with them, “it’s not your fault, it’s just…”

Hotch nods. “I understand, it’s okay. Now, do you want to go down and see them? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it might help ease your mind to see that they really don’t hate you.”

Spencer pauses, taking a moment to think. “Can I see Derek first?”

“Of course,” Hotch says understandingly, and the comforting smile that crosses his face makes Spencer feel safe and taken care of. “I’ll send him up?”

Spencer nods and Hotch hugs him once more before leaving the room almost reluctantly. He wastes no time in picking up his phone and sending a text to Oscar. You were right. Hotch is fine. He’s just sending Derek up before I go and see the team but he says that no one’s angry and I think I believe him. Thank you, Oscar. I love you.

Not even half a minute goes past before his phone lights up with a text back. I’m so glad, baby. Call me later, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay before I go to bed. I love you more.

Before Spencer can argue that actually, he is the one more in love with the other, a hesitant knock sounds on his door. Nerves suddenly flip his stomach, and he clenches and unclenches his fists a couple of times before forcing himself to cross the room, revealing a very worried and regretful-looking Derek.

“Oh, pretty boy,” he says sadly, before crushing Spencer in a warm and tender hug. Immediately, he relaxes into the arms of one of his best friends, and relief courses through his blood at Derek’s reaction. “I am so sorry that I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that you were gay or had a boyfriend. That’s completely on me. I don’t care who you love, Spencer, I just want you to be happy, okay? And if this guy makes you happy, then that’s fine by me. But if he ever lays a hand on you or—”

“Derek, Derek,” he laughs, “it’s fine I get it. Thank you, though, I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier and for snapping at you in the bullpen that time…”

“I understand, Spence,” he promises. “It’s in the past, okay? And I’m sorry for pushing so hard. I mean, I’d love to meet him but if you don’t feel comfortable or you don’t want to, that’s fine, too. It’s your life, man.”

“No, I… I think I want you guys to meet him. It’s been so hard to keep him away from the people I consider my family, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe after Christmas, we can all have dinner or something.”

Spencer smiles shyly. “Well, Oscar’s a great cook, so I reckon we could work something out.”

Derek grins, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he immediately jumps back into teasing him as they make their way to the door to go downstairs and see the rest of the team. “Ooh, lover boy’s got him a chef, hey? What else does this Oscar have going for him?”

Spencer chatters eagerly about his boyfriend to Derek, barely skipping a beat when he joins everyone downstairs, his friends taking his cues and joining in with the conversation seamlessly. He’s had enough fuss for one night, and the warmth and understanding on everyone’s faces tells him everything he needs to know.

“Do you have any pictures of him?” JJ asks, raising an eyebrow with eager expectancy as they all settle back into their seats by the fire, a warm and unbelievably happy feeling settling in Spencer’s stomach.

He blushes, digging out his phone from his pocket and unlocking it. “More than a few, I think.”

He finds the most recent picture of his boyfriend — a candid shot of him cooking in the kitchen, spatula aloft, and a huge grin on his face — and hands the phone around.

“Oh wow, you like them buff, huh, pretty boy?” Derek teases as soon as he gets his hands on it, and Spencer’s stomach twists in a sudden bout of fear, expecting to see some hesitancy or even disgust on his friend’s face. What if he thinks that Spencer has a crush on him? What if he’s uncomfortable around him now?

But if Derek’s having any of those thoughts, they don’t show on his face. He’s smiling widely and openly, all the pent-up anxiety and frustration borne from hurt gone from his body language, and he looks completely comfortable sat next to Spencer, his arm stretched out behind him on the back of the sofa.

They sit happily around the fire for a couple of hours, settling into a happy, intimate familiarity Spencer hadn’t realised was missing when he was hiding something so integral to his being from his family, and he’s still smiling when they finally part ways to head to bed, the clock ticking closer and closer to 1 am.

He gets ready for bed quickly, brushing his teeth and throwing on the top he’d stolen from Oscar the first time he’d stayed at his place; a welcome change from his worn and wrinkled suit. As soon as his teeth are brushed and the lights are all off except for his bedside lamp, he pulls out his phone, knowing there’s one more thing he has to do before he goes to sleep.

“Spencer?” Penelope’s voice sounds down the line, clearly concerned. “It’s almost 2 am here, are you okay?”

“I’m gay,” he says, getting straight to the point. The main reason he ever kept it from her was because of his fear of it accidentally getting out to the team rather than fear over her reaction. After all, multiple of his drag queen friends are also hers.

“Oh my God,” she says in that small voice she uses when she’s not actually talking to you, before finally actually replying to me. “Spencer, I’m so happy you told me!”

He doesn’t miss her choice of words, or the way she says them and he tilts his head suspiciously. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry, a couple of months ago I saw a text from Oscar on your phone when you went to the bathroom during one of our Doctor Who marathons, and it wasn’t hard to figure out the relationship.”

“And… wait, you’re not mad at me for not telling you sooner?”

“Spencer! Of course not. I was waiting for you to be comfortable enough to share it with me. I felt awful that I knew without your consent but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to catch you off guard or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s fine that you waited, baby genius, I’m just so happy you told me now. What finally gave you the courage?”

“Well, it might have slipped out in front of the team this evening,” he admits sheepishly, “and the only reason I never told you was because I was scared that it would slip out somehow — accidentally, of course, I didn’t think you’d tell anyone on purpose — and now everyone knows. It’s been killing me not to tell you, Penelope, it really has because I love you so much and you’re my best friend and I trust you with my life, it’s just…”

“Whoa, slow down, Spence,” she laughs fondly, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I understand. But I’m glad you finally told everyone and you can be yourself completely with us, now. We all love you no matter what, you know that right?”

“I do now.”

“Good. You should get some sleep, baby boy, it’s late and you’ve had an emotional evening.”

Spencer smiles. “Yeah, I know. You should, too, Pen. I’ll see you when we can finally make it home, okay? Love you.”

“Love you, too, 187,” she says softly, and Spencer can hear the smile in her voice. “Goodnight.”

As soon as he hangs up, he settles down into the bed, turning off the light and pulling the duvet up over his shoulders before dialling one more number.

“Hey, baby,” Oscar says, voice as gentle and caring as it always is, although thicker with tiredness now. “I take it everything went okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer murmurs, already feeling tired as the safety he always feels at the sound of Oscar’s voice settles into the fibres of his being. “It went so well. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”

“I can’t wait either, sweetheart. Are you in bed now?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Can you talk to me as I fall asleep?”

“Anything for you, Spence,” he says softly, before transitioning seamlessly into a story about the professors on campus, and his gentle comfort and the knowledge of the unconditional love his family has for him finally lulls Spencer into the best sleep he’s had in weeks.

taglist : @criminalmindsvibez @moreidstrobed @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @temily @enbyspencer @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids (add yourself to my taglist via this form!!)

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nevermindirah · 3 years

Text

Dorothy Freeman facts

By facts I of course mean headcanons, because Nile's mom doesn't get a first name in canon (or even confirmation that her last name is Freeman). All we know about her is the picture on Nile's phone lock screen (which is Kiki Layne's real-life mom and brother!) and a few lines that Nile tells Andy about her. I’ve been collecting my Dorothy headcanons for a while now to eventually make a post, and @mprosperossprite‘s excellent post giving non-Americans context for what it means that Nile is from the South Side of Chicago prompted me to go ahead and share this. Disclaimer that I’m white and I will absolutely make corrections if it’s pointed out that I’ve caused harm with any of this.

So here have some fun facts about the version of Mama Freeman who lives in my head rent-free:

Her family and growing up:

she was born in the mid-'60s and named after Dorothy Dandridge

I can’t decide whether she was born in Chicago or moved there later on (maybe with Nile’s dad?) and when in the waves of the Great Migration her family left the South

she came of age in the "post"-Civil Rights movement and went to college in the mid-80s when a lot of what are now the foundational classics of Black feminism were being written

she was a young adult when Anita Hill risked so much to report that a Supreme Court nominee had sexually harassed her, and as a result she HATES Joe Biden

Marriage and babies:

she met Nile's father — I can’t decide how they met and I have two competing headcanons for his name, either Gideon for the hefty Biblical masculinity vibes (Giddy for short among family, that man loved to laugh) or Carl, which started out as a shitty Carl’s Jr burger chain joke that turns out to be perfect (it means free man!), and @knoepfchen used it in the sequel to if you do take a thief where Carl is alive!! — and Dorothy was a little skeptical of his near-religious devotion to the military but he was really hot and really devoted to her and they made it work

she's a little pissed that she was right but it's unbearable if she thinks about it too often

it's going to be a long, long time before she can look back on pictures of Baby Nile stomping around the house in her dad's combat boots (this is a Gina Prince Bythewood headcanon, whyyyyyyyy can I not find a link to where she said this)

she named their second baby Indus, Indy for short (this is nearly as established fanon in Book of Nile circles as how much Booker loves eating pussy, and Indy Freeman as a young adult is portrayed by either Aldis Hodge or John Boyega I don’t make the rules)

Work:

Dorothy did some office jobs but nothing really grabbed her, and she was probably gonna have to move for her husband's career, so she decided on teaching — high school humanities

she’s been active in CTU (one of the strongest teacher’s unions in the US) her whole career and one year she was on the bargaining committee and her babies know damn well never to trust a boss, not even one who says all the right things — if she ever finds out the way Nile said "like Quynh?" when Andy promised to protect her, she will lose her mind with pride

(Nile was 18 and freshly graduated from high school in 2012 when CTU went on strike for the first time in a generation and she brought her mom snacks on the picket line)

one of her very favorite things is getting her students to laugh despite themselves at her "oh my GOD you're so EMBARRASSING" old-people jokes

she's one of those teachers who can get 30+ teenagers to go dead silent with judicious application of body language

she's known to occasionally go easy on grading subjective things like essays when she knows students are having a particularly rough time at home, but the second she gets the feeling they're taking advantage and not trying their best that shit is over and they better mind their Ps & Qs

she's the kind of person who says old-people shit like that

she gives her students assignments like "help 5 neighbors register to vote" and "write a compare/contrast table about the candidates in this local election" and "research 5 different ways you could get grant money to do X" and other practical civic-minded shit

standardized testing is her supervillain origin story, just kidding it’s Rahm Emanuel, why the fuck did Obama trust that asshole

After her husband died:

she would have lost her goddamn mind if it weren't for her church friends after her husband died, people from the church raised money so they could make ends meet while his pension paperwork was taking forever, church friends watched Indy so Nile could go out for the soccer team, etc etc

she sold her and her late husband's house and moved to a 3-bedroom co-op unit when Nile started high school, it's more affordable and it meant she didn't have to worry about household repairs in the same way, she can use a wrench if she needs to but she doesn't have time and it just makes her grief flare up (co-op housing has a long history in Chicago and other US cities (like Washington DC where I live) as a way for Black people to access decent, affordable housing in the face of entrenched discrimination)

the move meant putting a longer commute between her and church, but she didn't even bother looking for a church closer to their new home, she loaded the kids into the car on the weekends, parking is hell in their new neighborhood but it's worth giving up a hard-won parking spot to not have to wait so long for the L on Sunday mornings

Indy lived with her through college and he was gearing up to get his own place when Nile died, Dorothy was planning to move into a one-bedroom in the co-op building because she doesn't need so much space anymore, Indy took a day off from his new job (not so new anymore, her baby's so grown!) to help her sort things to donate when those dress-uniform Marines came to their door

part of her wishes she could've been home more and not had to rely on Nile so much for help with Indy, but he's turned out such a kind young man, and he's a much better cook than his sister is (was, oh God — no wait, is! she’s alive! what do you mean you’ve been alive all this time??)

some of the girls from church are encouraging her to check out this social dancing thing, nobody's pressuring her to date but there's definitely been some ribbing, and with Indy out of the house... maybe? probably not, but maybe

Her feelings and beliefs and likes and dislikes:

she's an absolute badass and also she's a soft human woman with lots of feelings

she's very, very traditional in some ways, and part of her mixed feelings about Nile following in her dad's footsteps is gender stuff, she's proud of her daughter and would never stand in the way of what Nile wants to do with her life, and if Nile came home and told her she's a lesbian she would never reject her, but if Nile came home and told her she's bisexual maybe she can just try focusing on men? “I love you sweetheart and I want you to be happy I just know how hard it is already for us in this world” type shit

she has been on team natural hair basically her entire life and one of the worst fights she and Nile ever had was over Nile wanting to straighten her hair as a pre-teen

Indy takes more after her and Nile takes more after their dad, she's so proud of both of them, but Dorothy's activism was mostly wearing her natural hair to work and daring bosses to give her shit, Indy's out there marching in the streets like her parents had and she WORRIES

she teases Indy for going to so many protests like he's using it as an excuse to meet girls, but she WORRIES

when she turns 60, she gets box braids with streaks of dark purple, subtle enough that it's still work-appropriate but it makes her smile, she may be old now but damnit she’s still pretty!

she loves Grey's Anatomy and Star Trek and she watched Bridgerton all in one day

she has a dirty-old-lady celebrity crush on Chris Hemsworth

if she's ever masturbated thinking about Donna Summer, well, that's nobody's business but her own (do non-Americans know about the queen of disco??)

If you want to read fic featuring Dorothy:

I won't have to leave alone, 1000 words, Nile has a nightmare and decides to go tell her family she's immortal

I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore, 65k, Nile adjusts to immortality and does a lot of soul searching about what it means to "do what we think is right", Booker goes to grad school for trauma studies, the working title of this fic was Booker Reads Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and Goes Down on Nile and the final product has an annotated bibliography in the author's notes if you’re into that kind of thing, a lot of my Dorothy Freeman headcanons were born of my process writing this

Gather round the table, we'll give you a treat, 2279 words, college AU, Nile brings her Jewish boyfriend home for Christmas

a contribution I made to Shitty Old Guard Deaths: (Booker, USA, 2025, cause of death: a mother’s righteous wrath)

#nile freeman #nile's family #dorothy freeman #tog headcanons #tog meta #mine #long post

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lostgirlrewatch · 4 years

Text

1x11 - Faetal Justice (gettin real tired of your puns, Michelle, jk I never will)

Written by: Peter Mohan

Directed by: Robert Lieberman

Original Air Date: November 28, 2010

Oops. I missed a week. Sorry :( I’m back with episode 1x11.

Dyson gets framed for murdering some Dark Fae, and the gang has to prove him innocent.

Hey, remember the club, guys? Remember what that was like? Also Vex is back. Yay.

I wish my kitchen looked that fancy. I can’t keep vegetables that fresh. Their setup only looks like it will produce tasty food, though, because apparently they can’t cook for shit.

I am excited enough to see Hale that I took this screenshot for no reason.

But anyway, Bo and Kenzi are of course investigating the crime, as they do, while Dyson invokes sanctuary back at the Dal. Which basically means that Trick clears the whole bar out and lets Dyson hang out there for some amount of time where the Dark Fae can’t immediately come after him for killing one of their own.

They end up back at the club that Dyson woke up next to, which is Vex’s club. They start to suspect Vex may have something to do with framing Dyson for the murder. I can’t imagine why.

Vex makes a comment about how “another killer in the room (Bo) adds to the excitement,” to which Kenzi fiercely replies that Bo isn’t a killer. Vex is skeptical, considering how many people she has killed over the years, and suggests that he and Bo compare “scores.”

That hit below the belt.

Evony arrives at the Dal to pick up Dyson, in spite of sanctuary, because she has decided that the rules don’t apply to her. “Just think of me as a VIP,” she says. “I do.”

What a queen. Listen, is she wrong? Do the rules apply to Evony? Need they?

She has such queen energy that I love every time she shows up, even if she does absolutely nothing except make snarky comments. You have to appreciate the dominating energy of the woman in charge of the entire darker half of the supernatural underworld. She eventually backs off though.

Meanwhile, to Bo’s surprise, Lauren shows up at the precinct to discuss the case with her and Hale. (Hale invited her, and didn’t think to tell either of them that the other would be there, because he has no idea what’s going on between them.)

Bo is still pissed as fuck. I didn’t bother getting a screenshot, but the glare she gives Lauren is just as withering as it was last time.

So Lauren does...science-y stuff, I guess. I don’t really listen to what she’s saying when she talks about her science shit. I think Lauren is suggesting that Dyson turn himself in to the Dark Fae, though? So they can compare bite marks or something? Okay, I just rewatched the scene. Lauren suggests that Dyson turn himself in and wait while they go through a whole forensics analysis of the scene to determine his innocence (not acknowledging the possibility that evidence against Dyson may have been planted). Bo is like, “fuck no.” Lauren claims that in spite of the fact that she and Dyson “haven’t always been on the best of terms,” she is “actually trying to help here.”

It doesn’t end well. It’s awkward.

Hmm...*narrows eyes* Wait.

Stick around, Lauren fans. You’ll love this. I’m analyzing Lauren.

Lauren’s solutions to problems are always very...clinical. They’re clinical without fail, often to the point of being...not good solutions.

Lauren’s solution to Dyson’s problem--being accused of murder--is to have him turn himself in so that they can run tests and have the evidence prove him innocent. This is such a clearly half-assed idea, I don’t even really know why she suggested it. This idea is like if you could not care less about Dyson or this entire situation at all but you were dragged into being a part of the brainstorming session and you were forced to contribute something. It scans as laziness. Like either Lauren’s brain is too exhausted to put any energy whatsoever into trying to help Dyson, or she actually doesn’t care about him at all and is only there out of obligation and because of Bo. Hm.

Lauren’s solutions to problems don’t just rely on science, I get she’s a scientist and those are the skills she brings to the table. She goes a step farther. Her solutions are always devoid of emotion. Think about why that is.

I mean, turning Dyson in to the Dark Fae is objectively a terrible idea, first of all because they would one hundred percent immediately string him up and torture him for information. (Which is exactly what they do later in the episode!) Lauren is not stupid. She’s a smart gal. She should know this. If she knows that Dyson would be tortured, why would she suggest he turn himself in unless she has absolutely no emotional investment in his physical or mental wellbeing whatsoever? Again, it’s a clinical solution that treats the people involved as though they are pieces in a puzzle.

Second of all, Lauren suggests they run a bunch of tests and rely on forensic evidence to determine whether or not Dyson is innocent. She says, “Hopefully [the animal hairs on the body] won’t match Dyson’s DNA, and hopefully we’ll get [the results] on time.”

“That’s way too many ‘hopefully’s,” Bo snaps back.

Lauren doesn’t seem that concerned with whether the hairs do or don’t match Dyson’s DNA. I mean, “hopefully” they won’t, but she is content to take the risk, let the situation play out, and let the evidence speak.

But she is also completely ignoring the possibility that even if the evidence incriminates Dyson, it might have been planted there by whoever is trying to frame him. What then? There would be no way to prove that it was planted in time--the Dark Fae would instantly execute him, and no one could stop them because he’d be in their custody. Even a cursory review of Lauren’s half-assed, not-thought-out plan reveals that it’s past risky and more in the realm of stupid.

So you tell me. I’m more interested in hearing what anyone else has to say about her than writing what I think. What is the deal with Lauren? Why is she like this? Is she so cold and unfeeling that she doesn’t have any concern for the physical and emotional wellbeing of others? Does she just not give a fuck about Dyson specifically? Or is she so burnt out and exhausted by the mental strain of her job and her enslavement that she can’t summon any emotional energy whatsoever, and has to completely rely on cold logic to offer anything at all?

I said Lauren fans would like this because I was analyzing her, but I neglected to mention that I would also be dunking on her. Sorry if you were duped. I feel like I offered her a way out at the end there, though. Give me all your pro-Lauren arguments if you feel so inclined.

Anyway, Bo and Hale have a nice little mini-conversation afterwards. Hale confesses that he once thought Bo might be bad for Dyson, that she’d break his heart or he’d destroy himself for her.

He tells her he was wrong, and that she’s “the real deal.” How sweet.

The only witness to the crime is apparently this human girl named Porscha, who reminds Kenzi a lot of herself. Porscha is also young, on the streets, and a runaway from a bad home situation.

I don’t really care about her or like her as a character, but I do appreciate that her presence prompts Kenzi to drop a few more tidbits of information about her past here and there. For instance, she mentions that she’s been on her own since she was 15, which seems like a long time but is actually only like four years because Kenzi is 19 and therefore a literal baby.

More interesting is this exchange. Porscha comments that it must be nice that Kenzi and Bo have each other. Kenzi responds a little awkwardly. She agrees that it is nice, but then she says that she’s still getting used to it. She’s still getting used to “being noticed.” Because when she was at home, she says, it was always better to not be noticed. “That’s when things got ugly.”

Yeah. So as if we didn’t already know, Kenzi comes from an abusive home. A home that was so awful that it was better to run away and be on the streets at 15. Then she was completely alone for four years, and homeless for that entire time.

Think about it. Living with Bo like this must feel so odd. Kenzi has never lived in a house with another person before where it actually felt like a home and she actually felt safe. The way she sort of averts her eyes, tenses a little bit when she says she’s still getting used to it (Ksenia is fantastic as always by the way) is such a realistic portrayal of a response to recovery from trauma.

The way I like to think of it is this. Going from being in a long-term traumatic situation to being in a safe and loving situation is kind of like putting a frostbitten hand in warm water. Warming it up is good, it’s healing, but when your hand is so used to being cold, warming it up is going to hurt like hell. Recovering from trauma is kind of like that. Good things can hurt, especially when you’re not used to them.

But it doesn’t hurt quite so bad for Kenzi that she’s ready to flee and go back to being alone the streets, which is what is familiar to her. It just seems like it’s mildly uncomfortable. And that’s good. Because it means she can get used to being loved and having a family.

Jesus, why am I writing these things every week, they’re so long. LMAO help

So the episode ends with the reveal that it was the bartender all along! GASP! Side note: the whole reason this episode happened is because this bartender, who is clearly an adult man (physically in his 20s or 30s but actually much older since I assume he’s Fae?) was apparently “in love” with the human girl Porscha, who, based on her conversations with Kenzi, is definitely supposed to be a teenager. And also based on her conversations with Kenzi, Porscha has even “stayed over a few times” at his place. Can you say creepy? Adult man taking advantage of a young girl on the street who has no family and nowhere else to go? Grooming her? Just saying.

In a moment that I find somewhat disturbing and rather cold, the main gang all walk out and leave the bartender to be (most likely) brutally tortured and murdered by Vex and the Morrigan. That’s him up there. I mean, I know the Dark Fae are a practically untouchable political powerhouse, and there’s not really anything Bo and the others could do, but still. They totally just left this guy to his death.

But significantly, the episode ends with Bo and Dyson sharing a kiss, as they reaffirm their feelings for one another, and seemingly enter an official romantic relationship.

Oh boy! How cute. :) I wonder what’s next for these two.

Surely not heartbreak and suffering?

Big plot developments of the episode: Bo and Dyson are (it’s implied) officially an item now. This is Bo’s first legit committed relationship in the series. #dybo #neverforgetwhereitallbegan #rip #F and respect to the two people and a potato chip who like this ship #will this actually tag this post

#lost girl #bo dennis #kenzi malikov #lauren lewis #dybo #dyson #lost girl rewatch #1x11

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ninetyfivepercentstress · 4 years

Note

im tryna read mcpricely stuff, any recs?

hey! im surprised i got this ask over here instead of on my sideblog lol but i definitely have a lot of recs!

first, you definitely have to read the bible: A Portrait of Kevin Price as Young Mormon by neverbirds. This is by far the most impactful fic in the fandom. Rent out a couple of hours on the couch and read it straight through. I first read this years ago, and my last reread was about a year back? And I still think about this shit at least once a week. After that, read the author’s companion fic: A Sketch of Connor McKinley. It’s the missing scenes from A Portrait from Connor’s perspective.

Reading anything adele neverbirds has written is a good bet tbh, but quite a few of her fics are unfinished. Read those at your own risk bc you will become obsessed with them and will be driven mad by the lack of an ending. Even so, this fandom owes neverbirds the world.

Little Syncopations by deliarium is also a great starter fic. Classic 5+1 fic from Connor’s perspective. I think this one established a lot of well-known tropes in the mcpriceley fandom that we all joke about.

There’s also this really, really long running fic called Four States, One Journey by strengthsbasedmediocrity. I haven’t been able to bring myself to read it yet because it’s long, heavy, and I’m not emotionally stable enough to embark on this journey yet. But it’s one hell of a fic from what I’ve heard. If you’re looking for a well-balanced meal and maybe some emotional catharsis, this one’s up there with A Portrait.

A huge fav of mine is also miserably, honestly, imperceptively by cherryfizzies. Just the summary alone is iconic, another trope-establisher in this fandom: oblivious!kevin and emotionally-mature!arnaba.

Just about anything on this list of @appleflavoredkitkats‘s is iconic. This is dedication tbh, here’s the list. I’ve found so many of my favorite fics through that list.

Ok idk how old you are so idk how appropriate this is but it wouldn’t be complete without mentioning greerian ‘s contributions to this fandom. I think we collectively cancelled him a few years back bc of some of the fucked up borderline torture porn he was writing (he was also here on tumblr under the same name), but he’s got the most iconic smut and angst fics around I think. Another major trope establisher, this fic here The Size of Orlando, Florida is the origin of praise-kink!kevin, which everyone assumes is canon these days. There’s a companion fic to this one as well, With a Sunflower Tie. Just steer clear of the pricingham and Soul-Eater and you’ll be fine. The fact that I can name Soul-Eater by name when I only read like two paragraphs of it two years ago is a testament to how overwhelmingly dark it is. If you have any sort of sexual trauma, stay away from it.

Mirimea is also an iconic smut writer of the first-gen BOM fans, with classics like It Is Now and Slow Hand, both of which have reread value. Mirimea also gave us As It Is, which is one of my favorite soulmate AUs for any fandom ever.

As far as other tumblr users go, i recommend @elderkevinmckinley and my mutual @statsvitenskap xx. I believe they’re also on AO3 under the same usernames. Definitely check their stuff out too!

If you thought this whole post was too long and you don’t want to read any of it, PLEASE READ THIS RIGHT HERE. Because you are missing out if you don’t read ESawyer’s works. She’s here as @e-sawyer as well and I owe her all the rights. She writes a lot of multichapter stuff, as well as one-shots. I don’t think she’s written a single fic that didn’t knock all my expectations out of the park. She recently finished Loveth His Children, which is from Jack’s perspective (I’m a sucker for fics from OC/very minor characters’ POV) which was so so so good omg I can’t recommend it enough. A couple of her other iconic multichapter works are There's Only Good Things Ahead of Us Now, Kev, The 11 Things That This Gay Ex-Mormon Will Achieve, and this series In Darkness, Light. She’s also got this series of masseuse!connor fics which i adore: Magic Hands. She’s also got this iconic smutty one shot Unholy Matrimony if you’re interested in nsfw stuff. Another legendary one-shot: 2:00 AM. Also she just started this new multichapter fic that centers around the Price family dynamics against a McPriceley backdrop and I’m already obsessed with it: Cardboard Mother. This turned into a really ugly ramble but she’s literally my favorite author in this fandom right now. Love your work ma’am xx

Anyways if I think of any more I might add them later but gjhdfhgkjdsf. Stan ESawyer and neverbirds and have an excellent day anon

#the book of mormon #mcpriceley #broadway #musicals #fanfiction #fanfic #musical theater #fic rec #vous me posez une question #recommendations

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kenzieam · 4 years

Text

Beauty and the Blackheart - Chapter Two

@jewels2876 @moonbeambucky @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @iammarylastar@captstefanbrandt @badassbaker @pinknerdpanda

I know I’m forgetting people, sorry. If you want in, hit me.

************************************************************************

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, general nuttiness, smut

************************************************************************

Okay, so......

Lev, the serious one, is visiting her wild-child twin brother, Clint. There she meets Bucky, a tall, dark, brooding mystery who’s her total opposite in every way. Of course, she’s intrigued even as her mind screams to run for safety, but what could go wrong, right??

***********************************************************************

Lev glanced up from the elevated counter in front of her and grinned as a familiar face pushed open the door and entered.

“Hey Spider,” she called, genuinely happy to see the man.

“Hey, little lady. How are you?” The biker called back, chains rattling as he moved.

“Getting by.”

“I see that, looking fine this morning, honey.”

Lev smirked mildly at him. A shameless flirt, Spider was harmless, totally devoted to his ol’ lady, Sparkle, but guaranteed to throw out little tidbits like this on the regular just to make the recipient red.

“Your head’s looking mighty shiny this morning, handsome.” Lev lobbed back, enjoying the now familiar game between her and the shop’s frequent flyer. He belonged to a genuine motorcycle club, yet still found time to pop into Blackheart every few days for something. Lev figured he liked the conversation, he and Clint got on like a house afire.

He tipped a salute then glanced over the front of the shop. “Buck around?”

“Haven’t seen him yet.” Lev had sort of fallen into the role of temporary front-end manager and had spent the last two weeks managing appointments, payments and supply ordering for Blackheart Ink.

Only a few days after Lev's arrival, Nat’s father, according to Nat a batshit old man who had no goddamn common sense, had fallen off a ladder while attempting to install a birdhouse on a towering pole in his backyard for her mother and broken a decent amount of bones. Also, according to Nat, her daddy, while having no sense of self-preservation, fortunately healed rather quickly from his varied injuries and boo-boos over the years. Regardless, Nat had been torn, with Lev offering to fill in at the shop so Nat could go home and help until her father was back on his feet.

After a few trying days, Lev found she liked helping, greeting and laughing with regulars, fielding phone calls, bantering with the boys.

Steve was hilarious, and an unapologetic big brother, displaying a heart-warming amount of concern and affection for Lev right from the start, like she was just another little sister, even defending her from her own twin sometimes, letting her hide behind him as Clint spazzed randomly, suddenly convinced that Lev needed a Sonic the Hedgehog tattooed on her wrist, or that she would look great with that new sparkly pink tongue post they’d just brought in and he’d chased her around the shop waving a clamp.

It was fun to add the big guy in on their games and life at the shop was never boring, Lev even found herself relaxing her stringent boundaries, the rules she usually lived by. She still was a long way off from her fun and free-spirited brother however, and never did that seem more obvious than the rare times Bucky interacted with her.

He remained a lurking shadow most of the time, loosening up around his friends and regular customers, but he seemed to have taken Lev stepping in to help as a personal attack, alternating between glowering at her and outright ignoring her.

In truth, Lev preferred being ignored, for when he did turn those intense eyes on her, Lev felt out of control, little sparks racing under her skin, a set of butterflies suddenly alive in her belly.

And wasn’t that just a big old hot mess.

They were polar opposites. Bucky seemed to live on coffee, while Lev limited herself severely. He smoked like a chimney, both tobacco and pot, while Lev had seen too many blackened lungs in Anatomy class to ever partake. The only green thing she’d seen near his mouth was the lettuce of the fast-food burgers he wolfed down, and he’d never even heard of edamame, staring at Lev’s lunch bento one day like it was toxic waste. In addition, he had a filthy mouth, peppering all conversations with liberal f-bombs, squinting in confusion at Lev when she grumbled something along the lines of ‘for Pete’s sake’ after spilling her water, not able to comprehend an exclamation that didn’t rhyme with ‘duck’.

He’d never outright said it to her, but the thought radiated from him like body heat, ‘what a fucking princess’.

And the girls! It seemed every night there was some new one strutting into the shop near closing, cooing his name, ready to head over to the bar down the street, then no doubt back to his house for wild sex.

They were all tall, hot and polished, wearing dresses wrapped tighter than ace bandages around their pert little asses and surgically enhanced breasts, eyeing Lev derisively as they passed her desk. Dismissing her with a sniff, already looking past her for the object of their attention.

Lev tried not to look, but Jesus, it seemed whenever Bucky would emerge from the back, having heard his newest siren’s call, that the woman would launch herself at him, start devouring his face and he just went with it. Catching them and slamming them against a wall, grabbing their faces to angle their mouths for a deeper kiss, making them moan and whimper his name.

Lev wondered idly if this was done for her benefit, if Bucky hated her so much that he was trying to make her uncomfortable enough to leave except for, beyond a derisive snort or slap on his shoulder, Steve and Clint seemed to be used to and tolerate his manwhore ways, or had at least learned to ignore them.

“You alright?” Steve had asked a few days ago, as Tiffany or Amber or who-the-fuck-ever swallowed Bucky’s tongue in full view of the desk, for the door to the supply room had swung back open after Bucky had slammed it shut while lurching inside with his newest spider monkey. His eyes trekked warily from the display back to Lev, forehead furrowed in concern as he studied her face. “I can tell him to fuck off, you know. He doesn’t need to be-”

“It’s fine.” Lev replied breezily, although she felt anything but. This wasn’t her permanent job, and Bucky was nothing and nobody to her. “It’s his shop.”

Steve studied her quietly, seemed about to say more. Sure, it was his shop and he’d been pulling this shit for years and Steve and Clint had learned to ignore it, but that didn’t make it right, especially with someone so… pure as Lev nearby.

“He’s-” Steve broke off, rubbing his chin. “Buck’s complicated-”

“He’s a whore.” Lev startled slightly, surprised at the venom behind her words. Again, WHY THE FUCK did it matter to her?

Steve shrugged, a hint of sadness curving his lips downward. He didn’t elaborate and Lev sensed there was a story there but it hardly mattered. Nat would be back soon, and Lev would go home and start practicing medicine for real and eventually she’d meet her own Prince Charming and Bucky could stay here, his cock rotting off from whatever STD he’d finally caught.

“Hey Spider.” A deep voice suddenly called, startling Lev out of her thoughts. Bucky lumbered into her peripheral, a genuine smile on his face as he greeted the other man. “Head on back, I’m all set up.” He gestured for Spider to pass then turned to face Lev. Any geniality in his voice died, all light left his eyes.

“You’re fucking up my appointments.”

Lev stared wordlessly, trying to think back on what she could have possibly messed up. Exasperated, Bucky strode to the elevated counter and reached over, his height making it easy and all but ripped the appointment book out from under her hands. He stabbed a thick finger at tomorrow’s first appointment.

“A memorial tat first thing in the goddamn morning?” He hissed.

Lev was thoroughly confused. ‘First thing’ at Blackheart was 11 am, how the hell was that the ass-crack of dawn?

“And a goddamn ‘memorial’ tattoo? What, some crying housewife wailing about her daddy dying? Wanting a set of angel wings and ‘always in my heart’ floating above it?”

Now Lev saw red. As a trauma resident, she dealt with death on the regular, grief was not something she took lightly.

“Fuck you.” She hissed, too angry to realize what she’d just said, for one of the first times in her buttoned-up life. “A memorial tattoo isn’t hardcore enough for you? You’re too fucking hungover from the night before to make it in that early, when the rest of the civilized world has been up and contributing to society for hours already? Or are you just too sore from fucking whatever whore you dragged home? These are important to people, Bucky. It’s family that they don’t have anymore and they’re trusting you to immortalize what they’ve lost! In my opinion there’s no greater honor to imbed something like that permanently into someone’s skin! You don’t want any bullshit angel wings any more then fucking tell me like a decent fucking person, you fucking dickhead!” She slammed her hand down on the book to illustrate, the sound sharp like a slap in the silent room.

Lev broke off, breathing hard, her pulse racing. She’d never, never lost control like that before and she’d just sworn more in the last two minutes than she had her whole adult life.

Bucky eyed her appraisingly, he didn’t look mad per se, but she’d definitely surprised him, and he looked torn between snarling back and just ignoring her again.

His lip twitched and Lev expected him to open his mouth and start bellowing but he grinned. It was fast, gone in a flash as though it had escaped in a moment of weakness but, for a heartbeat, he’d done something other than glower at her.

“Duly noted, princess.” He drawled, then the curtain seemed to fall over his eyes and Lev became the invisible girl again, staring after him in shock as he turned and strode away, slamming the door of his room behind him.

****************************************************************************

The next morning Lev shifted her weight nervously, fingers curling as she studied the appointment book. The memorial client Bucky had chewed her out for yesterday was due any minute and Lev didn’t know what to do. Bucky hadn’t expressly told her he wouldn’t do the tat, so she couldn’t move the woman to another artist, but she was awfully tempted to head off the lady the moment she walked in with some excuse about Bucky needing to cancel last minute and saving her from dealing with him and his shitty attitude.

While she regretted her loss of temper and foul language, Lev didn’t regret tearing a strip off the man yesterday. Bucky had needed a wake-up call but the way he’d reacted still made her shiver and she wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing. The door chimed as it opened and Lev inhaled sharply, trying to decide what to do. The woman was older middle-aged, soft and wholesome looking, greying hair in a low bun, the very last person you’d expect to get inked.

Great, not only was this woman here for a memorial tattoo, but it was most likely her first one. What an introduction, being shepherded into the world of body art by King Asshole himself.

This wasn’t her business, this wasn’t even her real job, she had no right or power to do anything about it but she couldn’t let this woman walk into her appointment thinking Bucky was going to give her his best when he’d already shown he wouldn’t.

“Hello, I know you’re here for-”

“Good Morning.” A honeyed voice overrode hers and Lev startled, snapping her head sideways. Bucky appeared in her peripheral vision, smiling charmingly.

“You must be my eleven o’clock.”

The woman actually giggled, already enchanted and Lev gaped, stunned by the turn of events. Where the hell was the growling, miserable bastard she’d dealt with yesterday? Who’d ignored her all day after their angry encounter?

Had he trimmed his beard?

Lev didn’t even realize he owned a pair of jeans that didn’t have holes in them, yet this pair looked…. Good. Shit, she hadn’t really paid attention before, put off by his general aura, but Bucky had an amazing pair of thighs, muscular and straining his jeans in the best way. And don’t even get her started on the way his plain black t-shirt stretched over his chest, back and shoulders.

Jesus.

Lev winced, shocked by her internal monologue as Bucky gestured the woman past him, flicking an indecipherable glance at Lev before following her to his room, the door closing quietly behind him. Within moments, one of Bucky’s more mild playlists began to play lowly, filling the air with the mellow first notes of ‘Crying Shame’ by The Teskey Brothers.

The phone rang then, jarring Lev from any more speculation and she nearly dropped the receiver before answering, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Blackheart Ink and Body Mod, this is Lev, how can I help you?”

***************************************************************************

The surrealness continued, with none of Bucky’s usual hard rock/metal music, instead James Blunt’s ‘Bonfire Heart’ following ‘Crying Shame’ and Lev wondered what the hell was going on. Clint, who unlike his friend, had no trouble working early, had been in his room since 9:30, working on a special client currently on leave who wanted an intricate sleeve done before he was deployed again, merely grabbing a second can of Monster from the back fridge this morning to tide him over and Lev didn’t expect to see him for another few hours still. Steve wasn’t due in until 2 or 3 o’clock, having taken the morning off and there were no walk-ins yet to worry about.

She busied herself for a bit cleaning the display case for body jewelry and a tiny little voice in the back of her mind began to muse about what it would be like to maybe, just maybe, pop her cherry and get a piercing. Lev literally had none to speak of, not even her ears were pierced, and she had found herself wondering more and more in the last week what it would be like to sit for the needle, feel Bucky’s breath on her face as he leaned close to mark the place on her skin, the quiet concentration setting his jaw just so; for while Bucky was a bastard, he took body piercing seriously and never seemed to show attitude, even for basic ones, the giggling girls queuing up for naval studs, or nose rings.

Bucky’s new playlist continued, and Lev was pleasantly surprised by the contents. Was this a hidden side she hadn’t seen yet, or was he in some way taking the piss?

Her thoughts were so jumbled around this man and she hated feeling confused. But either way, regardless of what she thought and felt, it didn’t matter. She was leaving soon, going back to her real life and, even if she wasn’t, they were too different.

He was fire, she was ice.

What business did a doctor have with a tattoo artist, and she didn’t mean any kind of bullshit class structure. They were literally opposite ends of the spectrum, a deductive job of reasoning and knowledge versus one of artistic talent and freedom.

And, even if their careers were somehow compatible, their personalities definitely were not. Lev felt vaguely inferior around Bucky, as if by foregoing fun for structure made her less than him somehow. He looked down on her, dismissed her as a princess, and while she wasn’t free from guilt, believing him to be mannerless prick, she couldn’t shake the disappointment of somehow having failed with Bucky.

The door to Bucky’s room opened suddenly, and Lev startled, looking up to see that an hour had already passed, before realizing that the woman was in tears.

Oh shit.

Lev felt a bolt of panic, eyes wide, as her mind raced. What had he said to her?

The woman headed her way, with Bucky trailing slowly behind and Lev braced herself, words of apology jumbling in her mind. But, as she approached, Lev saw that the woman was smiling through her tears, it was a joyful crying, not a sorrowful one.

“Look,” the woman called. Reaching for Lev she turned to expose the back of her shoulder, pointing excitedly. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Lev looked down, down to the woman’s pale, soft skin. Although covered by a clear bandage, Lev could see that, indeed, the tattoo was beautiful. A trio of African Violets, so realistic and lifelike, with the simple word, ‘Forever’ underneath. While not a huge tattoo, it looked like a goddamn picture, three-dimensional and perfect; easily the most beautiful ink Lev had ever seen.

“My husband loved violets; I grew them for him. Our house and garden were full.” The woman sniffled, pulling a tissue from her pocket. Bucky had stepped to within a few feet of the women and, if Lev had looked up, she would have noticed that he was locked on her, watching her every reaction to this woman and her story. “After he died…. I couldn’t grow them anymore. Not that I didn’t want to, but I literally couldn’t. They wouldn’t grow for me anymore, its like he took them with him when he left.” She sniffled, hard, and Lev felt like crying herself. “These are my violets now; I get to keep them with me forever.”

Lev swallowed her tears, knowing that if she started, she’d never be able to finish for, even though she was serious and disciplined, in her heart of hearts, she secretly wanted a love like what this woman had had too, a connection that transcended death. A tear escaped anyway, trailing down her cheek and she wiped at it before it started a tsunami.

“That’s wonderful.”

The woman smiled, looking suddenly lighter, a glow about her. “I have to go; I must show my daughter!” She whirled and, before anyone could react, grabbed Bucky in a tight hug. If he was surprised, he hid it well, hugging her back and whispering something to her, then pulling away almost brusquely. He held up two fingers to Lev, indicating his fee then whirled, disappearing back into his room.

“What a lovely man.” The woman gushed, following a stunned Lev as she returned to the counter. “So gentle and polite! He listened to me ramble and gave me exactly what I wanted. My daughter will be in next, just you watch, wanting the same thing!” She added on a huge tip, and all but floated out of the shop, leaving a gobsmacked Lev in her wake.

Lev stared at the money for a beat, then carefully divided it, adding to the till the shop’s cut before stacking the rest in the little pirate’s treasure chest marked ‘Barnes’ hidden under the edge of the counter. Taking a pencil, she crossed out the appointment in the book then just stood there for a moment, unsure what to do next.

But before she could figure out her next move, Lev felt heat at her back, a body move close. She froze, realizing Bucky stood directly behind her, his chest inches from her back and her heart started galloping. His spicy masculine musk surrounded her as he lowered his head over her shoulder, some of the hair that escaped his man bun brushing her cheek.

She held her breath, feeling a crazed mix of fear and exhilaration. Was he going to yell at her, kiss her?

He paused, as if savouring the moment, or maybe the scent of Lev’s fear and breathed out. His exhale was slightly unsteady, as if it pained him then he spoke, his voice so low that she wouldn’t have been able to hear him if he weren’t mere inches away.

“You were right.”

#au bucky #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #au bucky barnes #au bucky barnes fanfic #au bucky barnes fanfiction #au bucky angst #au bucky drama #bucky x lev #bucky and lev

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

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957.

5k Survey LIV

2751. What's the most interesting assignment you ever had in school? >> I’m not sure. I hope people realise that my last moment in any kind of school was in December of 2005 (and my last moment in high school was June of 2004). I can barely be arsed to remember anything from 15 years ago unless it’s trauma-related. 2752. What's the most interesting thing you ever had to do for work? >> I thought working as a merch seller for local bands was very interesting. I had a lot of fun. 2753. Do you feel: insignifigant? unable to evoke change? like one person can't change the world? like one life and one person's suffering doesn't mean very much? If you answered yes to any of those can you describe why in detail? >> I, personally, feel insignificant fairly often, but that doesn’t extend to thinking that other people are also equally insignificant. 2754. Do you feel like you could contribute as much to society as ____ has? Albert Einstein: Abe Lincoln: Franz Kafka: Jesus Christ: >> Just because I already have self-esteem problems doesn’t mean I’m going to sit here and consciously make “do you have as much worth as these people” comparisons. 2755. Are you aware that your brain is the same size as Albert Einstein's brain? Do you realize that you have the same number of hours in a day as Abraham Lincoln? Did you know that Franz Kafka wrote all of his amazing litterature during his lunchbreaks at work? Did you know that we are all made of matter and that you are made of the Same Thing that Jesus was made of? Do you still believe that you couldn't contribute as much to society as they did? If yes than WHY? >> This is an immensely irritating line of questioning, I hope it’s over now.

2756. Is your mind in the gutter? >> My mind is not in the gutter. 2757. What do you have to complain about? >> Whatever I want to complain about. 2758. Do you remember rock n' roll radio? >> ... Yes? Pretty sure it still exists, regardless. 2759. Is there such a thing as a food that you burn more calories from digesting than you actually absorb from it? >> I don’t know, try google. 2760. Hey, if you've gotten this far than you and me go way back. We've been hanging out for a while now and I gotta know..do you like me? >> --- 2761. What are you doing, Dave? >> --- 2762. As far as love goes do you feel it is better to become complete before looking for someone or find someone who completes you? >> People are already complete, despite however they may feel about themselves. I don’t understand what it means to look for someone who “completes you”, that sounds immensely absurd to me. So I guess I can’t really answer this question except to say “I don’t think people should be thinking about relationships in these terms...” 2763. What attracts you about the opposite sex (or same sex, or both sexes)? >> --- 2764. Do you need people or do you not need anyone? >> Of course I need other people. The fact that I have an attachment disorder is a direct result of my inherent need for other people’s love and support going repeatedly ignored. Even besides that, I need other people to physically survive, because that’s how ecosystems work, and believe it or not, we are still part of nature and beholden to its cycles and systems. 2765. Is selfishness always bad? Is selflessness always good? >> No. 2766. Do you feel like your life is being controlled by a power structure? >> Of course certain elements of my life as a social creature are controlled by power structures. 2767. Can you name three things in society that send the message that being completely yourself and that looking inside yourself and contemplating what's within is a good thing? >> Sigh. 2768. Can you name three things in society that send the message that materialism and the accumulation of stuff is a good thing? >> The entirety of capitalism. 2769. What is more important, a picture or it's frame? What is more important, spirituality or religion? >> These questions truly do get more baffling as time goes on. 2770. How many definitions can you come up with for the wword 'fuck'? >> I don’t have to come up with definitions, google is right there. 2771. Is it less offensive when a black person says Nigger than when a white person says it? Why or why not? >> The context in which a Black person says it is often a far different context from the one in which a white person says it. So, yes. It usually is less offensive by default, unless the Black person being addressed is uncomfortable with the word even when used in a friendly context. 2772. Do you rationalize often? >> Rationalise what? 2773. Do you believe that america is an imperialist nation? >> I mean, yeah. 2774. Would you agree that: hot topic is the new abercrombie? pink is the new black: you are the new you? >> *stares dully* 2775. Do you have more internet or real life friends? >> I only have Internet friends. 2776. What IS the feeding of 5000? >> The what?? 2777. What's an easy way to make money? >> I don’t know. 2778. What's your favorite slang word and what does it mean? >> I don’t think I have a favourite slang word. 2779. Are you uncomfortable? >> Slightly, because of noise issues. 2780. Is anything definate besides death and taxes? >> Taxes aren’t definite for everyone, but death certainly is. I don’t know what else is that predictable. 2781. Would you rather live fast and die young or live slow and die old? >> Living slow sounds nice to me. However it ends. 2782. Can you name 4 people who have committed crimes against humanity? How do you think they live with themselves? >> Probably, but I don’t feel like it. I don’t care how they live with themselves. 2783. If you could imagine, pure fantasy, any God you could concieve, how would you want God to be? >> I can imagine any god I want to imagine. It’s really not that hard, there are already so many to choose from, even if just to use as a template. 2784. do you think the smashing pumpkins have a strong christian theme? >> I don’t know, I’ve never paid a whole lot of attention to their lyrics. Their songs just sound pretty. 2785. Do you think this survey has a strong christian theme? >> I didn’t think that. I hope I won’t have cause to think it in the future. 2786. Fill in the blank for yourself" Give me ____ or give me death! >> --- 2787. Have you ever heard of the USA patriotism act? Apparently they have passed laws making torture legal. Also the FBI can sneak and peek into ANYONE'S home. They don't have to ask or even tell you they were there. This is already the law. So, whaddaya think? >> I mean, yes, I know that. I live here. 2788. The people in power step all over the average citizen, trying to secure all the power and money for themselves and leave us with no rights and under their control. They have the audacity to do this because they know that we will not lift a finger to stop them. Are they right? >> I don’t know if they’re right or not. I’m also not sure what the fuck powerful-ass finger you think we common folk all have. 2789. The Free State Project is a plan in which 20,000 or more liberty-oriented people will move to a single state of the U.S. to secure there a free society. They will accomplish this by first reforming state law, opting out of federal mandates, and finally negotiating directly with the federal government for appropriate political autonomy. They want to be a community of freedom-loving individuals and families, and want to create a shining example of liberty for the rest of the nation and the world. What's your opinion? Could this work? Why or why not? >> Didn’t a bunch of libertarians want to do this at some point? Anyway, I don’t know if this could work or not. I don’t know nearly enough about any of the elements involved to have an informed opinion about the feasibility of this kind of project. It does sound plenty audacious, though (and way too vague). 2790. Have you ever seen the Neverending Story? Remember when Bastian has to prove his worth by looking in that mirror where you see yourself the way you really are with no pretenses, rationalizations or mental lying? Could you stand yourself if you looked into that mirror? >> I do remember that, vaguely. I wanted to rewatch this movie but then I didn’t get to it in time and HBO took it down :( Anyway, I don’t know if I could stand myself if I looked into a mirror like that. I can’t conceptualise what that experience would actually be like. 2791. What is soilent green? >> Oh, you know. (That’s another movie I’d like to rewatch, in fact.) 2792. What are you proud that you have never done? >> *shrug* 2793. What things are hopeless? >> *shrug* 2794. What Are People For? >> Making Soylent Green out of. 2795. What book do you feel could change someone's life? >> Any book could change someone’s life. 2796. Didja ever want to just walk up to the Bush administration and ask them, 'What the fuck?' >> No, I wasn’t really paying much attention to the administration during that time because I had a lot of personal issues taking up my immediate focus. But from what little I remember about it, it’d be a valid question to ask. 2797. How do you take your coffeee? >> Decaffeinated. 2798. Have you ever played: paintball? lazer tag? which is better? >> I’ve never played these. 2799. In what ways are you lucky? >> A lot of ways, I guess. A lot of fucked up shit has happened, but a fair amount of strangely fortuitous stuff has happened, too. Guess something has to even the other shit out. 2800. If Jesse Jackson wants reparations to be given to black people because he thinks that black people don't have equal opportunities in this country than why does he drive a Jaguar? >> “Black people don’t have equal opportunities in this country” is still a fact of life no matter what the fuck kind of car Jesse Jackson drives. Focusing on his personal “success” or whatever like that is just a diversion from the heart of the matter.

#surveys #survey #5000 question survey

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kristarocksyourworld · 4 years

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Quaranthings: Korean Dramas

It’s been a while, Tumblr. LOL I haven’t posted in a while – but we are living in a time of pandemic. I have never thought such day would come but here we are.

It has been 41 days since Enhanced Community Quarantine (ECQ) was implemented in Manila – and I have managed to catch up on my Korean drama backlog.

Thanks to streaming sites like Viu and Netflix, I have spent countless hours just catching up on the latest dramas (The King: Eternal Monarch, Itaewon Class) and the ones I have not finished watching (Mr. Sunshine, Reply 1997, Go Back Couple, Kill Me, Heal Me, My Love from the Stars). I also found time to rewatch my favorites (Secret Garden, Innocent Man).

The last one I watched was Mr. Sunshine. The writer, Kim Eun Sook, tells the story of a Joseon slave-turned-American soldier named Eugene Choi and a noble named Go Ae Sin – and the people around them: the mysterious samurai Go Dong Mae; the rich playboy Kim Hee Seong; and the beautiful, rich heiress/double agent named Hina Kudo. Set in the early years of the Korean Empire (led by Emperor Gojong), the drama depicted the political turbulence of the time: the traditional Joseon ways clashing with that of imperialists as well as the personal struggles of each character. Then there’s storge, eros, philia, and agape - I’ll probably write another review of that because in terms of writing, I think this is the best Kim Eun Sook drama.

I have been meaning to write something like this, but I guess I was inspired to share with the world why I love Korean dramas – like it really is a hill I would die on anytime.

Some weeks ago, a Filipino director openly tweeted his disdain for Korean dramas. In his words, he said that Filipino movies and tv are “doomed” because of “K-drama galore: faux Cinderella stories with belofied whiter than white actors. And it’s all about love in the midst of pandemic.”

LMFAO. I had to laugh.

It came from a director with reputable filmography – I mean I loved two (2) of his films for their social commentary but I have to ask.

How many Korean dramas have you watched – LOL don’t tell me you only watched Crash Landing on You.

HELLO, ITAEWON CLASS WAS IN THE TOP 10. DID YOU WATCH THAT? Did you watch the rags-to-riches story of Park Saeroyi and his quest for justice to defeat the biggest food company, Janga Corporation?

Have you watched Sky Castle? The compelling story of rich families and their schemes to get their children into the best universities?

How about the Reply series? A nostalgic drama that tells the story of families, youth, and the times they lived in – 1994, 1997, 1988 – the nostalgia was fucking rich. I especially enjoyed 1994 and 1997.

Did you check out Another Oh Hae Young: a woman struggling to come into terms with her personal insecurities? Or have you picked up on It’s Okay, That’s Love: a romantic drama that properly tackled mental illness (the lead had schizophrenia).

From personal experience and the vast filmography of Korean dramas I have seen, let me point out why Korean dramas are the best – and why they’re so fucking addicting. I would have to say that this is not a research paper but rather a lengthy analysis based on my 12-year experience as a Korean drama enthusiast.

1. Creative value

Every drama starts with a great plot.

Sure, many Korean dramas are romantic. In fact, most of the Korean dramas I have seen in the early 2000s are romantic: Autumn in my Heart; Stairway to Heaven; Winter Sonata; Full House; My Name is Kim Sam Soon; and Princess Hours. There’s also Memories of Bali; I’m Sorry I Love You; and Coffee Prince. These dramas actually launched the Hallyu (Korean wave) that we know today – and their plots have the typical Korean drama romantic equation: guy meets girl – they don’t get along at first – then they fall in love – misunderstandings (or separation) ensues – reunited – fall in love again – they get married or end up together (or a lead dies). Then there are the non-romantic ones (historical): Jewel in the Palace and Jumong.

But as time went on, you see that the genres become varied – we started seeing action dramas (one of my favorites was Time Between Dog and Wolf) and medical dramas. Then there were dramas that also featured how Korean dramas were made (The World We Live In).

Korean dramas have varying plots that get recycled in many instances but with great plots also come characterization. The characters we see in dramas remind us of real people – we always relate to a character and we all get frustrated when they make stupid decisions (the Noble Idiot Syndrome) that really do not make sense. At the end of the day, we want happy endings for those who deserve happiness – we want justice served, we want closures, etc. because that’s how humans are.

In many romantic dramas, plots are reused but no character is the same. They would have similar traumas but never the same, carbon-copied character. There are villains you want to kill and then there are villains you sympathize with – because you realize that humans are multilayered, complicated creatures.

2. Production value

Another observation I have with Korean dramas is their careful attention to details. When writers create the script, they somewhat have actors in mind to play the character. In Korean dramas, they don’t really care about love teams. In the Philippines, we produce dramas based on the hottest pairs. In Korea, they don’t give a shit about that. Dramas are produced with the intention of creating a meaningful production so actors are chosen based on whether the writers and producers think they can bring their characters to life, not because they are the hottest commodity. In some dramas, actors have to audition, but in many instances, scripts are sent to actors with potential to perfectly portray the character.

Prior to filming, writers, actors, and production staff would spend a day or two in story conferences – actors would have the opportunity to discuss with everyone how he or she thinks his/her character is like. The directors and writers would provide their input on how the characters should talk, act, etc. Actors would also take the extra mile to learn a skill or two for the characters they played. They would have dialect coaches, language instructors, etc. Writers would consult with professionals – for instance, in many medical or legal dramas, they would hire doctors or lawyers on board to verify accuracy of terms. During broadcast, you would even see the jargon on screen to simplify them for the audience. In historical dramas, you would also see the terms used (in Chinese characters) and explain them in hangul.

During filming, you’d see how the staff has placed much attention on details – from the wardrobe to the set. You would also see themes, symbols, etc. The production aspect is really like how movies are: vivid, deliberate, beautiful. Who would’ve thought red pinwheels would make me tear up?

Each drama has a particular soundtrack – can I just say that Korean dramas have the best soundtrack. Each song played in a specific scene perfectly conveys the mood and feelings of the character. I have cried so many times listening to Park Hyo Shin’s “Snow Flower” (I’m Sorry I Love You) or Ji Sun’s ”Goodbye Without Saying Goodbye) (My Name is Kim Sam Soon). On my Spotify account you would see I have played Goblin, DOTS, and CLOY OSTs countless times.

In the past, dramas are not really pre-produced (meaning script came a week or two before filming). There are dramas wherein halfway through the broadcast, they had to switch writers because the earlier writer had a falling out with the production – so you’d see that the quality suffers (story plots would go crazy lol). There are dramas wherein they had to replace the actors because of scandals or accidents. In the last 5 years however, Korean dramas have become pre-produced: meaning the dramas will be filmed 6 months-2 years before being broadcasted. I guess this aspect has contributed to the fact that many Korean dramas are already available on streaming sites.

3. Cultural value

Each drama gives us a slice of the Korean culture – food, drink, skincare, attraction, and history. And noraebang (karaoke). Every romcom Korean drama has to have a scene at the noraebang...or jimjilbang (sauna).

Modern and traditional Korean dramas have to feature food: Korean barbecue, stew, side dishes. LOL you name it. There’s also soju, beer, and makgeoli. BEER AND CHICKEN.

In most modern Korean dramas, makeovers are a must. You would see product placements of known Korean products: Laneige, Etude House, Nature Republic, etc. The characters would go shopping in a particular shop like The North Face. Their coffee dates would be in one of these (Caffe Bene, Dal.Komm, HOLLYS, Zoo Café, Mango Six). They would buy their cakes or bread from Paris Baguette or Tous Les Jours.

Then there are road trips – many Korean dramas would feature a particular attraction, province, or city. Who can forget Nami Island (thanks Winter Sonata) or Namsan Seoul Tower (Boys Over Flower) or Petite France (Secret Garden, My Love from the Stars)? Of course, you can’t forget Busan (Reply 1997) or Jeju (Warm and Cozy) or Gangwon-do. It is definitely a K-drama fangirl’s dream to be able to visit in one of these places so we can relive our favorite Korean drama moments.

All of Korean dramas I have seen put emphasis on family – the importance of filial piety is always highlighted. The characters are often portrayed as dutiful daughters or sons. Conflicts often ensue when the character is challenged to choose between the parents or the love of his/her life (well in most Korean dramas that’s the case lol). Many dramas portray characters who try to be the good daughter-in-law and yet nothing is ever good enough. Then there are subtle flexes on Korea as an emerging superpower as seen by drama characters (chaebols) who head conglomerates. There is always a character who is filthy rich and can afford a billionaire lifestyle. Product placements include big companies like Samsung, Hyundai, etc.

Slice-of-life dramas also depict the realities in Korean society. Because This is My First Life and Something in the Rain aptly depicted the realities of harassment in the workplace from a woman’s experience. Many Korean dramas also relay harsh realities: meritocracy in the workplace; young adults juggling multiple jobs to make ends meet, etc.; even real estate situations are featured. Often you would find characters renting a small room because that’s all they can afford. From the dramas you would also notice that Koreans are not very kind towards single mothers or orphans. Then of course, there’s the North and South Korea situation: Crash Landing on You, Doctor Stranger, Spy Myeong-Wol, Descendants of the Sun are a few dramas that discussed this theme. The Reply series is a nostalgia drama featuring families that lived through some of important events in South Korea like the Seoul Olympics (1988), Asian financial crisis (1997), Sampoong Department Store collapse (1995), and the historic World Cup (2002).

Korean historical dramas are also interesting on their own – I guess until now, the Japanese occupation of Korea is still a sensitive matter for Koreans. Many of the dramas that feature such themes always depict the resilience and resolve of Koreans as they try to fight off the enemy. Yes, the scenes are depicted artistically, and the thought lingers long after the episode is over.

In terms of marketing, the government has also been proactive. With the Korean Wave (Hallyu), Korean dramas, as well as films, music, food, etc. have become an important commodity overseas. In 2016, Korean Culture Center wrote that Descendants of the Sun was sold to 27 countries, posting a profit of over KRW 10 billion (Php 412 million). The government acknowledges the important contribution of Korean dramas in tourism. Numerous papers have already been published showing the effect of hallyu in the South Korea tourism industry.

To make the long story short:

Korean dramas have gone beyond “faux Cinderella stories with belofied whiter than white actors”. I mean, if you want to produce a quality drama, it takes time and effort. Personally it has become a great escape from the realities I face. I do not welcome opinions that clearly spring out of snobbery and disdain for another person’s craft. Perhaps the director can look beyond the Top 10 (since that’s what he mentioned) and check out the wide selection on Netflix. Viu is also a great platform (I’ll start on World of the Married – been hearing and reading about it lol)

Hallyu did not flourish overnight, and the Korean drama industry – while a great model to cite – is also not perfect. There have been numerous cases and instances when staff are overworked or not paid long after the production is over. The #MeToo movement has also exposed some actors who have harassed fellow actors. If we want Filipino dramas to enjoy the same spotlight as that of the Korean dramas, we should be frank about the outputs we have had. We have potential, but it really is up to the decision-makers (at least from the network perspective since it’s all about profits and star value rather than quality production in the Philippines) to come up with a formula that would revitalize Filipino dramas. I can’t say the same for Filipino films because we have great films – the dramas need much work to be profitable. I mean, are we really satisfied with a few dramas being sold overseas? When will we produce dramas that are at par with our Korean chingus? If you want Filipino dramas to be streamed on Netflix or Hulu or Apple TV – maybe we can look at genres beyond police brutality or infidelity or hacienderos harboring a secret child somewhere.

Anyway, Korean dramas are awesome – and that’s the tea.

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ifeveristoday · 4 years

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hell has a revolving door

with all the ways Hell has been mentioned in this series and this issue in particular, it feels like it’s the hottest night club and people are just lining up to go in 🥁

spoilers for Angel #10-11 below the cut

I think I’ve figured out what I don’t connect with in terms of Kate’s characterization. She’s the Strong Woman version of Broken Down Detective that Drinks to Forget His Demons trope that is so popular in police/procedural/mystery media. She has an unspoken trauma in her past, she’s a loner, she has a leather jacket and a don’t fuck with me attitude. It’s a trope buffet and has definitely been successful in the past. I like that Kate cares about the street kids and wants to do well by them and that she’s naturally suspicious of new people. And with Lillith’s crack about Angel being on the family plan for his phone - Kate is obviously going to be part of the fold in the future and she’ll be important. Right now though I don’t see what new thing she adds to the group dynamic.

And I see that lampshade, Spike - about the sexual tension between Kate and Angel?

I mean, she did threaten to shoot him and she is blonde and she is a protector who also apparently embodies the spirit of Angelus’ first (?) childe - Mara. Who Angelus seduced from the light blah blah big old incestual subtext about perverting innocence.

I think this is also the first time sex is overtly pointed out in ‘verse, as in the words were said, not just implied - like when Fee Fee (remember her?) propositioned Angel way back when.

I’m just hoping there isn’t any Darla erasure.

Drusilla got a very unsatisfactory turn/and characterization in Buffy and she’s just a drunken footnote in Spike’s ‘embrace my best new Undead Life Coach self’ so I’m feeling protective of the last remaining OG female vamp in the Whirlwind but not a peep. So Angel’s origin story is truly focused on him as a vampire and nothing of him as a person before. Which I don’t know how I feel about yet. The Angel #0 characterization of him is light years away from how he is now, which is a good thing because Angel #0 was very I AM STOICALLY RESIGNED TO MY INFINITE EXISTENCE OF PAIN AND REDEMPTION.

It was very anvil-ly.

Lillith remains an omniscient magic 8 ball in a killer suit - “You will be able to redeem your past or save someone else’s future, but not both.”

Well okay, then.

I am a little frustrated with how BEH doles out his puzzle pieces because Hellmouth both restructured the shared universes...but also didn’t do much to affect the main storylines? Well, not in Angel’s case anyway - the only real repercussion is that scarecrow face slipped through while the Hellmouth was open. But no mention of the Slayer and what part she contributes despite the whole prophecy Lillith was talking about in earlier issues. I do think they are playing the long game with the Buffy and Angel relationship - it’s not going to happen right away, and now with Kate/Mara emerging as a player and Robin as a potential boyfriend - the likelihood of a big time jump seems possible. Then there are all the alternate universes that have opened up in Buffy as well.

The stuff I really loved in Issue 11 was the easy camaraderie Fred and Gunn continue to have - best friends to lovers I’m looking at you - and Spike’s turn as neutral truth-teller/shit-starter in the group. He really assumed leadership quite easily but it does feel natural for the two weeks Angel was gone. I fully expect an alpha type blow up between them in the future, it’s just there are more important things to focus on like

You’re in danger, Fred, it’s a goddamn cult.

Wolfram and Hart as a religious cult/ultimate pyramid scheme/demon funded Scientologist parallel is pretty clever and I love Lilah’s slippery morality here. Her manipulativeness is both scary and believable. The way she describes Baphomet as a benevolent god type and playing on Fred’s fear that she’s evil is excellent villainy. You just need a good villain sometimes and Lilah is it. I can’t wait to see what happens with her and Fred - and Fred’s descent into Hell.

It’s always blood, children.

Also the end - I find it interesting that the major demons Angel’s faced so far are emotionally motivated -they take on the forms of loved ones to gather strength from pain and fear (the social media demon, the Hellmouth goblins, and now this Scarecrow guy. Though he is just the personification of fear and pain and not a loved one.)

And there’s also a parallel in the two storylines - Angel and Buffy go on journeys and return to unfamiliar territory and new allies and enemies while figuring out their place in the world. Angel has to share power with Spike and reckon with the ghosts of his past, Buffy has to share Slayer power and responsibilities with Kendra and figure out who she is now that she’s not the only one and with none of her best friends by her side.

And the raging PTSD.

#angel comics #boom! studios #boom! verse #thoughts and reactions #spoilers

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stubbornattempt · 5 years

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I hope this is ok to try to get a message to you again. If you'd prefer that I didn't I'll certainly stop. There are just so many things I don't know or understand. The past couple of years I've come to believe that for whatever reasons you and I can never be together. And while this is my best guess, I realized I would like to know that for a fact. You see, I'm still in love with you and I always will be in love with you and I would wait as many years as it takes until its safe to be together, if there ever would come such a time. It's a long shot, but I'd like to know if there is a chance. That would change every aspect of my life. It seems to me that you and I can't be together because of the danger of being arrested, and if that is the case I would never want you to risk yourself trying to be with me. I would rather never see you again and let you have a good life. But maybe is there some sort of statute of limitations on the thing? If enough time goes by would everything be ok? I think about you every day and it hurts a lot. I can't put it into words but I ache like I've lost the thing in the world most precious to me. Sometimes I just whisper your name. I don't know how you feel. Maybe you don't still have strong feelings for me or even want to be together. If that's the case I'd rather not know that! You said you would always love me and I believe you. I remember every single thing you've ever said to me. You're in the deepest and most permanent part of me. You're my home and as long as we're apart I'll never be home. It's ok if that's what it boils down to. It's been a long time now and I've accepted the idea of never being together. I told you I'm dating this guy Steve and I like him well enough. It's slightly nicer to have someone than to be alone. But I don't think I could ever be in love with him, or anybody else really. I can love someone as a person and be fond of them but that's not the same as being in love. I've just accepted that any other relationship I have I will be settling for less. Over the past year I've started becoming what I think might be a bad person. I'm just selfish and sometimes I feel absolutely nothing. I don't care that the planet is dying. I don't really want to expend energy to help anybody else and I do the bare minimum to help myself. I have more callous and angry thoughts than I used to, and until recently I've been aware of becoming a worse human being but I haven't cared. I'm also becoming increasingly perverted, and while I don't think there's anything wrong with a fantasy that you would never act on, I wonder what it says about me that I'm getting off on things that would disturb most people. I've always had a twisted sort of libido I guess, but its just firing on all cylinders now and I wonder if I'm so different from regular people that I'll always be on the outside pretending to fit in and hiding my true self. I did about 4 weeks of school and withdrew from my classes. I didn't want to do the work and I didn't like the subject material very much. It was Statistics and Chemistry and I realized I was gonna have to work hard to get A's. I didn't really want to be in school anyway. After visiting Steve in Cleveland for 5 weeks I realized that I could live a decent life on a tight budget. I'll get disability checks forever until I die, so if I don't want to I really don't have to work. And the truth is that I definitely don't want to work. Even if I wanted to I don't know if I could. I've always had trouble having to be places. Sometimes, quite frequently in fact, I break down and quit. I can't be somewhere all the time and also be forced to be around people. These days I find I'm happiest when I'm watching TV. There are enough shows out there that I could watch TV for the rest of my life. And when I get bored of that I could read books and do a little exercising. I have the opportunity to just have all my time to myself and I'd rather be poor and have that than go back to school, pay a shit ton of money, and then have to fucking work some job I'll probably hate. In any event, I don't think Biotechnology is the degree for me. The only potential job I would actually enjoy is being a therapist or counselor of some sort, and that would take a lot of schooling to get to a point where I could have a career. I'm a little too old now to look down that road. Maybe not. I just don't feel like being back in school just yet. I still have too many emotional and psychological issues that I'm dealing with. I've decided to get some therapy myself. I think I'll go next week. Try to talk about some of this stuff. Eventually I told a few people about what I went through. I told Steve, another online friend, and then today I told Michelle some of it. Maybe talking about it will somehow help? If I thought there was a possibility of being able to be with you in the future it would infuse every aspect of my life with such profound happiness. I'm not holding out much hope for it, but I think you should give me an answer if you can safely get one to me. If there is no chance I think I'll move to Cleveland. Not because I'm so crazy about Steve, but I like him well enough and its an opportunity to start over. I love where I live but there are memories everywhere I go. I can't be the way I was again, and being reminded of everything I used to have can be painful. Cleveland is very cheap and poor and I could fit right in. My mother will be supremely disappointed upon finding that I don't intend to go to school and then get a job and I can't really explain myself to her. Telling my family about my life is out of the question. So in Cleveland I could at least be in a new setting where I'm not bombarded with memories around every corner, with a guy who I enjoy spending time with, and I could live cheaply. As you get older your options narrow all the time. I'm looking at my options and it seems like the best one. Today I miss you so much I want to cry. I don't cry that much these days. After I figured out you weren't coming for me again I didn't cry for a year or something. I did some art therapy on Tumblr and listened to a lot of screamo. Last winter I made that playlist I sent to you, and I would listen to it all day every day for like a month or two and cry to it. I haven't cried since then I don't think. Crying doesn't do anything anymore. My emotions are resoundingly futile. I'm so scared of forgetting a detail or a feeling. I'm scared of the time and distance that separates me from when I last saw you and I'm scared that it's only ever going to grow. I'm scared of getting older and inevitably not being the same person I used to be and I'm realizing the thing that might save me is that I don't want to become someone you would no longer love, even if we never see each other again. I want to be the person that you love and I don't know how to do that going into the future without you. As I slowly turn into somebody else that's putting even more distance between us. It hurts so much its the dullest ache. No one will ever know what we shared and that's ok as long as I can keep it alive in my heart and my mind, but life is long I guess. Even though we're not together somehow I'm scared of losing you. Loving you is the most profound experience of my life. A future without you is static, muted, black and white. I feel like I lived more than most people in life ever have. I've had more mystery and adventure, trauma and pain, and depth of love. Sometimes I actually feel lucky, even though it devastated my life for good. At least I was special for a time, and experienced something unique in all the world. And I experienced your love, which is my top rated experience of all time. Sometimes I beg your memory not to leave me. So far it hasn't, but I'm afraid of Time. I'll wrap this rant up here. I just wanted to say that I'll no longer send you messages on Facebook. I guess that might be dangerous somehow? I also want you to know that I will never come looking for you. If you want to be with me and its safe, the ball is totally in your court. I don't want you to feel haunted by me and if you don't want to hear from me I won't message you. Even if we can't be together IRL maybe we could keep in touch through secret messages over the years? Maybe just an update every couple of years? I want you to have a life and be happy and I don't want to interfere with that. So maybe you'd prefer a clean break and just to let me go? Fuck, I love you so much. Whatever you want is fine with me. I only ask that you give me a sign so I can know for a fact that it's over forever. You don't even need to tell me why. All I really want to do in this life is tell you how much I love you. I'm trying to live my life and I am. Some days are easier than others. I'm alone in my headspace most of the time. I don't know if it helps or does harm to think about everything so much. I'm realizing a lot about my limitations and coming to terms with what the rest of my life is going to look like. I think I could find reasonable happiness if I moved away and started new. As long as I stay in this city my family will make me feel bad for not accomplishing anything professionally. And I just don't have it in me to be what they want me to be. Everything I went through from like 2011-2017 or whatever it was, that is and has to be my "contribution" to the world because I truly don't have anything left to give. I'll never feel like everybody else and no matter what happiness and stability I'm able to attain, there will forever be this deep current of sadness for everything lost. I find myself feeling alienated from other people and not totally respecting their emotions and experiences because of what I've been through. Things I went through were so extreme it makes it hard for me to take the plights of others so seriously. I'm on the outside forever and I am alone forever. I feel happier with Steve but he doesn't have much emotional depth and even though I told him about you/everything I don't think he begins to understand. So I'm alienated forever from everyone IRL and nobody who knows what happened to me is willing to talk to me. What exactly happened anyway? When did John first start filming me? When did others start watching? What's the ballpark number of people who were watching me? Were there cameras in the bathrooms? In the Tea House? Basic fucking things I'll never know. No one affiliated with the theater is ever going to tell me and there's no way to find the answers to my questions. It used to be very troubling to not know, but I've come to terms with not knowing. It's not that high on my list of concerns anymore. The PTSD from believing that John was going to kill me has probably subsided as well. I don't think I really have schizophrenia, but I think you guys gave me schizophrenia for a time. I was out there seeing clues and receiving messages left and right and that shit did get pretty scary. But I don't see clues and messages anymore, so I doubt I'm schizo. Maybe I have like schizo-affective disorder or something, but I don't think I'm schizo. I even stopped taking my meds months ago and I'm fine. I'll pretend to the docs like I'm taking my meds and I'm fine with the diagnosis as it has allowed me to be given disability. I feel like I deserve disability and I honestly feel like after what I lived through that I shouldn't have to work. I know I said earlier that I was wrapping this up, but I do not want to stop talking to you ever. My love. I also want you to know that there is no future where I blame you for what I went through or am angry with you. Looking back over our communication I see perfectly clearly that you didn't lie to me or deceive me. I think you made some poor decisions because I would have liked to marry you straight away and skip the internet games. I know you feel badly about the way things happened. I don't want you to though. It's bad enough that I'm not happy, if you can be happy you really should be. I'm so glad that you have your kids in your life. It makes me very happy to know that you have those meaningful relationships. That night in the truck when it seemed like we were running away, if that's what was really happening I want you to know how much it meant to me that you were willing to leave everyone in your life to be with me. It was powerful. Obviously I'd do the same for you anytime at all, but I don't have kids. So your devotion to me was the most impressive gesture anyone has ever made for me. I don't think anyone has ever really seen me the way you did. I want to always be that person you fell in love with but that can't be. I'm growing older and changing and the changes probably aren't all good. Thank you for being there at my most vulnerable and for intoxicating me with your love. I know I was probably draining and maybe demanded more from you than you had signed up for. I hope I didn't mess things up for you too much. I know your wife left you and it seemed like my going to where you used to work may have influenced her decision? Anyway, I hope you don't look back and think of me as a mistake that made you lose your wife. Even if its not me I hope you find someone who loves you. I would just hope that you never stop loving me. I don't know how I'm gonna carry myself through the rest of my life. Maybe things can be better than I'm imagining. Maybe I'll be more of a good person than a creep. I have to try a little bit harder though. I'm so disaffected. I don't like being around people or going out and doing things. If I move to Cleveland Steve will make sure I get out and do things. He has crazy levels of energy and fills every second of the day with an activity. After 5 weeks I was thoroughly exhausted, but perhaps that's a good type of personality for me to be around. It's hard for me to stop writing to you because it kind of feels like spending time with you when I talk to you. I would love to hear from you. Anything from you I cherish. I'm afraid to look at your blogs or your online accounts though. I don't want to see things that aren't meant for me. It also hurts. I only want to see things from you that are meant for me. Anything you could tell me about how you're feeling or what actually happened I would be grateful to hear. You could be creative. I'll know if its you. One last thing I forgot to mention is that I'm having transgender problems again. I've decided not to pursue transitioning. It's a little late in the game for me. The results wouldn't be as good. It's a lot of fucking work to transition. Most people are wildly transphobic. I don't want to have to explain and justify my existence to everybody. I don't want to be discriminated against. My mom might disinherit me. It would be harder to date. I'd be a dude with a vagina which is awkward. Top surgery is a lot of money. I don't think I want to shave my face every day. A lot of trans people say that if you can live as a cis person that you definitely should because being a transsexual is very hard. The part of my life were it would have mattered being correctly gendered the most is behind me. I'm just saying fuck it. It's just one more way that my life fails to be perfect. If I did transition probably I would be happier and more comfortable in social situations and more likely to socialize but the cost is very high. Maybe I'm being cowardly or lazy about it, but I'm trying to be pragmatic. Anyway, I'll love you no matter what even when you're 70 and bald and your teeth are falling out, so if at any point in your life you want to be with me and its possible, reach out. I'm yours and its not possible to make it otherwise. If you don't respond to this I guess I'll take that as a sign and try not to contact you again. If that happens I want you to know that I will think of you always. As the years roll on I will imagine you raising your kids, going to their graduations and weddings, having grand kids, growing old. I'll think about you in your dorky baseball caps and playing the guitar, enjoying your success and continuing to crusade against the insanity in the world. Your obsessiveness, your industriousness, your raw intelligence and creativity. I think you're golden. That night in the motel room when I refused to leave you and because of that you ended up getting away, that was the thing in my life that I'm most proud of and I would do it over and over again. At least I was given the opportunity to demonstrate how much I care for you. Not everybody gets to make such a dramatic gesture. I hope you feel it in your bones how much you are loved. I hope I'm inside of you the way you are in me. If you still feel the same for me, please consider the possibility of trying again if there is any possible way. I would try to be the best version of myself for you. I've decided to try that anyway, but it would be easier with you. Can I tell you just one more time? I love you. I was a kid for a long time, longer than usual, but I'm less so every day. And although I'm a terribly inadequate adult I don't think I would be a burden on you. I'm financially independent now, I have a car and a license and I've dealt with a lot of my problems on my own. I still have many lingering problems but I don't think you'd have to repair me as much. We could have a relationship based on mutual love more than need. After everything, wouldn't it feel like the world’s greatest victory? It would to me anyway. I'm just appealing to you on the chance that we could try to make it work. If it was my choice we'd never stop trying. Ok, I've been long-winded. It feels super good to talk to you. I hope against hope that this isn't the last time.

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julesfitnessxo · 6 years

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Binge Eating Disorder

Growing up, I always interacted with food in a different way to everyone else. I remember even at five, six years old I would always sneak into the kitchen at night whilst my parents watched TV in the sitting room, and devour anything I could from the cupboards. My mum once told me she found me eating spoonfuls of sugar from the bowl- SUGAR. RAW SUGAR. I would eat anything and everything, in large quantities too. I’m not sure if it was the lust for something forbidden that triggered it- I was never, and still aren’t, one for doing what I was told- or if it was just greed. At parties I would always be picking at the food, eating huge portions whilst my friends could subside on a few crisps and a piece of cake. I ate faster and drank faster than other people. I had a massive sweet tooth- chocolate was my favourite thing in the world. I was also a little heavier than the rest of my friends- I was tall, muscly, broader. I have never have a super-thin bone structure. I wasn’t ‘fat’ by any means, but certainly a little larger than everyone else.

This strange relationship with food would follow me my entire life. I began to be able to eat larger and larger quantities, and when I was around twelve, I began bingeing properly. I used to use any spare change I could find to go down to the corner shop when my mum wasn’t home, and buy snacks. I would buy anything, usually huge slabs of chocolate or massive bags of crisps or an entire tub of Ben and Jerrys ice cream. Then I would go home, turn on a movie, and eat the entire thing. I guess it became a comfort thing, a routine. And of course, I began to gain weight. When puberty hit this only got worse. I found I was ravenously hungry all the time, and most of my days were fixated on food.

I remember hating my body and wanting to lose weight since I was seven. This hatred only grew as I got older, and gained more and more weight. By the age of fifteen I weighed almost 190 pounds. I was around 5′9 at the time, so height contributed to the number, but it was still massively overweight for my age. I would try and diet, but the urge to binge was just to strong to overcome.

I am now 19, and it’s still there. I’m writing this because last night, after a day of reasonably healthy eating, I ate an entire 12 inch pizza and cheesy chips in the space of around five minutes. Not normal, right? It was the first time I’d properly BINGED in a good month or so, as I’ve been eating healthy and exercising a lot recently. And it felt SO GOOD in the moment. I remember literally stuffing the food into my mouth, even though it was boiling hot and burned my tongue and throat, but I just couldn’t stop. I just couldn’t stop. I felt completely out of control- feral, almost, like a wild animal. I’d eaten enough food during the day so it wasn’t as if I’d deprived myself into needing that vast amount of calories.

That’s what binges feel like. In that moment, it’s just you and the food. Nothing else exists. There is no limit to what you can eat. You literally STUFF the food into your mouth, barely swallowing it, barely even TASTING it. It’s just more and more, more and more, until you can barely breathe you’re so full. But you keep on eating and eating, even when your stomach is SCREAMING in pain, because it feels so good. I’m telling you, it’s the best feeling in the world to me. During a binge, I feel ecstatic. It’s literally like I’m eating away my problems. It’s a release, a form of escapism, sure, but it also feels like a carnal instinct. Like something deep within me is driving me - my brain isn’t really functioning properly, as if it’s been taken over by an outside force. It’s kind of like I’m a different person.

It’s like the hunger signal to my brain just isn’t there. For example, say you’re having a hang out with a group of friends, and there’s snacks. Everyone will pick at them for a bit, and then just kind of forget that they’re there. Whereas with me, I’m CONSTANTLY thinking about food. I’m constantly picking at the food, even if it’s cold and congealed and disgusting. Food is always on my mind.

Obviously, I’ve come to release that this pattern of behaviour isn’t normal. I’ve started to do some research about binge eating, and I’ve come to these conclusions.

1. MY RELATIONSHIP WITH FOOD IS SOME FORM OF ADDICTION: Addiction runs in my family. On my dad’s side, almost every family member is addicted to alcohol. My aunt actually passed away from alcoholism. I’m not - and hopefully never will be- but I do believe I have inherited that ‘addiction gene’, if such a thing exists. My addiction is food. Food is more than just something nice or pleasing to me- it is EVERYTHING. I think about it all the time. I guess I could compare myself to the way a heroin addict acts- sacrificing everything just to get that next hit, that next rush, that next binge for me. Also, from observing my one family and also the actions of others with addiction, it is something that is done very secretly. For example my dad drinks and suffers with alcohol addiction, and so when he drinks he drinks secretly. I think a huge part of this is shame, and embarrassment- shame for being so dependant on drink. For me when I binge, I always binge alone. I would never dream of consuming food the way I do during a binge in front of other people. I eat alone out of shame and embarrassment too, shame for consuming such high quantities. So, I guess I could consider myself an addict in some way. There are certainly more dangerous things to be addicted to than food, however this does not mean that this addiction is any less valid or important.

2. THE DESIRE TO BINGE CAN COME FROM ANYWHERE: A lot of therapists claim that people who suffer with eating disorders do so because of emotional issues and trauma in their past/present of some kind- with a lot of disorders such as anorexia, it’s more of a form of control than about weight loss, or about food.

Binge eating disorder, however, is slightly more complex than that. I don’t necessarily believe that my desire to binge stems from a past/present emotional trauma, nor do I believe I always use bingeing as a coping mechanism, like to cope with issues I have in my life. Sometimes, yes, after a shit day I am more likely to binge than if I had had a great one. However, most of them, they seem more of a carnal instinct, something that I’ve always had in my brain. It’s not about control for me, either- the entire thing is feeling out of control. Bingeing is definitely a form of release and escapism, yes, (at least it is for me), but I don’t know, it seems more mechanical than emotional, if that makes any sort of sense.

3. I DO HAVE AN EATING DISORDER: It took me a long time to recognise binge eating disorder as a ‘real’ eating disorder. My mum had always just told me I ate a lot simply because I was ‘greedy’, however I don’t agree. Just because anorexia and bulimia are the most ‘publicised’ and well-known eating disorders, doesn’t mean others don’t exist. Technically, I have suffered from an eating disorder for almost all my life, I just haven’t realised it. So that means I can apply terms like ‘relapse’ and ‘recovery’ to my own life. I have gone through several stages of relapse, several short periods of recovery. Now, I want to recover for good.

Recovery seems completely impossible for me at this point. Maybe I’ll never be completely recovered, maybe I’ll always have this disorder. I’m not even sure if the point of recovery is to reach the point where the urge to binge just doesn’t exist within me anymore, or to reach the point where it’s there, but I can control it for the most part.

All I know is today marks the first date in my ‘road to recovery’- as disgustingly cliche as that may sound. I’m sharing my story on here firstly because I hope it’ll keep me more accountable, and secondly because binge eating disorder is an incredibly isolating thing. I don’t know anyone else in my friendship circle who has this- no one. When I began to research it though, I read articles and watched videos from people- some of them celebrities- who suffer too, and I don’t know, I guess it just made me feel less alone, and more validated. I hope this ‘diary’ I guess, I don’t know exactly what to call it- account?- makes somebody out there feel less alone too.

So, here goes.

#binge eating #binge

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grief-is-a-noun · 3 years

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ode to the ex-boyfriend

I’ve never written about jake before, in a manner where i really gave myself time to sort out the way that i feel about him. When I broke up with him I was the happiest girl on the planet. I was finally free. Free from all his lies, his manipulative tendencies, his apparent and utterly dominant abuse. I don’t care what anyone says. I don’t care what anyone thinks that they know. He told me once he loved me so much because i was the only one who really knew him. I was the only one who actually saw him for who he was and he was right. I was the only one that saw him for the monster that he really is. He said I was the only person he didn’t have a surfaced relationship with. I’m sure he held onto me because it was exhausting being the fake “mr. nice guy”. He takes after his father. I remember coming over one weekend all three days (friday,saturday, and sunday) and his parents were fighting. I asked jake if everything was okay and he said his father is “irritated” at his mother because she suggested that he should’ve taken a different tone when speaking to the technical support guy on the phone. Can you believe that shit? Like ok, it doesn’t matter that there are children being sex trafficked, people who are homeless, injustice happening everywhere in the world, i’m going to waste my energy on being upset at my wife because my life is all about fucking me and how irate i get once i’m slightly inconvenienced. Not like I believe in the bible or anything that is the pinnacle calling for living a selfless life. I believe jakes mother has been mentally abused by mr. mcfaul her entire life, but she feels obligated toward him because in some cynical dark way she contributes her faith to him. In her mind, perhaps, she believes he is the one that kept her aligned with God. she needs to give herself more credit. Mr. mcfaul was always a nice man to me, he never did anything to hurt me but he failed to teach his son the proper way to take care of a woman and for that a part of me resents him. I honestly feel bad for him because when I look at him I see a man who doesn’t know how to emotionally connect with his children and never learned his lessons, always heading for complacency. Instead he instilled fear in his children that resulted in them becoming judgemental perfectionists. a lost cause, if you will.

I wrote previously that i was the happiest girl in the world when i broke up with jake and i was. No more comments about how we were going to move to idaho or how he would rather me stay home with the kids and be a housewife than pursue a degree. I couldn’t bask in the fact that I am an educated woman with an actual functioning brain. Don’t get me wrong, there is NO hate for housewives here, women should be able to choose whatever life they want to live, however, jake started our relationship with the will to change me. That's why I wholeheartedly believe I didn't break his heart, I broke his pride. Who am I kidding, I'm too fiercely independent to just be a housewife. I can simultaneously be a housewife, a good mom, and a working woman. I can contribute because I have always been able to handle my shit, he didn’t want to see it like that because my independence was a threat, it meant a lack of dependence on him. Without dependence, it is easy to leave, or so he thought. It's funny how that fear played into our relationship. He always “bragged” about the fact that he had broken up with every girl he had ever been with and although i did not go into this relationship planning on leaving him, I know subconsciously my mind was like “bet”. I can be toxic like that. He was sweet at first, he did strive to take care of me but he got too comfortable with my eagerness to forgive him until he finally reached a point where he didn’t care anymore. I tried everything, i sought out a mentor for him, i booked us counseling sessions, i fucking tried. Even though I was unhappy I held onto the good. I do that. I fight for the reason why I started. I hold onto the good for as long as I can and then when i cannot psychologically handle it anymore I hone in on all the bad shit and that’s what makes it so easy to leave.

I could probably write a whole novel on the abusive things he did. How he made me feel crazy for believing his girl best friend had feelings for him even though she openly admitted that she did in the past. I knew they were still there. How he held a secret meeting with her while we were dating to apologize on my behalf for how crazy my accusations were and that he wanted to get the “full story” on how I approached her because we both had two very different versions of what happened. How when i found out months later that this meeting occurred he shut me down and told me i had no right to be upset at him because it was in the past and he wouldn't do something like that now. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! I should have dumped him right then and there. My only regret is not leaving his ass sooner. I still remember the apathetic tone he took with me outside that fucking in n out in Westlake. I've written before how I was like a robot to him and he just shut my emotions on and off when he pleased. He negated any feeling I had that posed to him as an inconvenience and how I feel about him is the closest thing I've ever felt to hate. Jake, you made me feel crazy. Ironically enough though not two months after we broke up is when he finally apologized to me because said girl best friend tried to get at him, again. I knew he didn’t like her in that way, jake likes girls with at least half a brain and to be honest it would be more interesting talking to a door knob than participating in a conversation with her. But it wasn’t about the way she felt. It was about the way she looked at me when he wasn’t looking. How i was uncomfortable that she would always try to brush up next to him or take my seat by his side and everyone was secretly rooting for them. Jake, you moved to idaho to get over me and start over and she fucking moved there too. God, a part of me hopes you guys get married. She's too mindless to receive any of your abuse, she will do whatever you say without a fight and utmost willingness. But I know you don’t like that, I know you prefer a fight because it makes you feel powerful, having someone you can control. I’m just thankful I recognized this, and made it out alive.

Here’s the thing about assholes, it's no secret i don’t like the nicest men if i do i get bored and then leave. Jared was an outstanding guy, he met the love of his life after i broke up with him and we check in with each other once a year or so. I have him and his girlfriend on Instagram and I'll like or comment on their pictures. I sometimes DM his girlfriend, she replies to my stories or mine to hers. Jared talks to my brother a couple times a month too. My dad and brother both really miss him. I lived with Jared for a time and he with me. We were family. The dynamic we have created is healthy and I'm happy for him. Matt on the other hand, definitely resents me. He goes through stages of blocking me then unblocking me but i don’t really care. I wrote him a letter apologizing back in 2017 and we are on ok terms. I know it's his girlfriend that doesn’t want us to be friends but I support that. I get it. He has been dating her for almost three years and I really do hope they get married. My first love has been the hardest to get on good terms with, it took 5 years. The last time I talked to Kyle was actually a few days ago. I had a question to ask him and he responded but I never texted him back. I don’t know why I’m like this. Last time I saw him was on Labor Day when he, Jadyn, and I all went to the beach after he got off work. We talked about the ocean, music, snowboarding, surfing, you know, miniscule bullshit. It was that night I finally realized I was over him. I don’t talk about him much anymore, he was my first love, that is all i have to say. We are strangers to each other now and I can only hope he likes the person he has become but I don’t know him anymore. The boy I loved is gone. It took five years of rumors among others and silence between us for me to realize we are adults, we are different people. I know we will never be friends but it’s cool that we are cordial. I will go on counting him as the first love of my life, he will go on counting me as his biggest regret, and for both, I am not sorry. Well where was I? Oh that's right, assholes. You see, Jake is the kind of asshole you want to run from. Hop on a plane and fly a million miles away. Logan is the kind of asshole you can empathize with. Jake hasn’t been through one difficult thing in his life. He is almost 26, still living with his parents (now living with them in a different state), never finished school, too prideful to put in the work, and still to this day, always taking the easy way out. He hated the fact that i made more money than him, that i paid for most (if not all) of our dinners and trips, that i had direction in my life and he didn’t. He resented me for taking care of him but I still did it anyways. That’s when you do when you’re in a relationship, it's a team effort, 50/50. I don’t see it any other way. Jake hated people with trauma or emotions. He couldn’t empathize with them. He wanted to just turn away any hardship because it made him feel uncomfortable. He hated things that challenged him, hated what he didn’t understand. This is why Jake is the bad kind of asshole. Then you have someone like Logan. Logan is confused, as we all are. And although he doesn’t like the thought of being vulnerable there’s layers to that. Reasons why. He has depth. The difference here is that when my nana died and i asked jake to leave “work” (which was him sitting at his fucking computer practicing coding or playing video games) he said he didn’t want too, on god. Added that he didn’t get why i was so sad over my nana dying when we weren’t even that “close.” i think that's when i began to resent him, took me way too fucking long. Jake didn’t want to care about me, hell, he didn’t even listen to me. If he had, he would have known my nana left everything to me and she always wrote that I was her favorite grandchild. If I really needed Logan, I knew he would be there for me. Hell, I called him in the middle of the night and asked him to pick me up in the morning to give me a ride to simi and he didn't even ask why, he just came. Not only that but he was dropping me off at a protest and the march wasn’t something he believed in, as beneficial to society, but he still took me there anyways. I know that, even now, if something really bad ever happened to me and I asked Logan to be there, he would. That is a reflection of his character that goes far beyond circumstance. I know i'm not special, I believe he’d do that for anyone he cares about because he is a good person. So ya, i put up with his impulsive petty bullshit because we all have impulsive and petty bullshit we do. However, when worst comes to worst and you're really in the thick of it, you need people that you know you can always count on. I might’ve lost that side of Logan because of my mistakes. I know he played a role in how badly things ended between us which he apologized for. I can be too sensitive sometimes and I think my lack of understanding of him fogged my judgement, actually I know it did. I mean, fuck, all three of us could’ve played a healthier role in that situation. After I broke up with Jake he’d ask me to get coffee or go out to lunch every once in a while and I agreed (why? Couldn’t tell you). I used to just cry about the whole situation with Logan and it made Jake so angry. He would tell me he hated the way I cared so much about him. How i never cried over him like that and didn’t understand why losing Logan hurt so bad. Well, it hurt so bad because I was subconsciously lying to myself about the fact that I was in love with him; but even looking beyond the way I felt it hurt so much because Logan is a one in a million kind of person, Jake is just your everyday plain old asshole. My god do I hope that he changes. He definitely needs to seek therapy before entering another relationship, I really just want what's best for him.

So, ode to the ex boyfriend. I know, not your typical 14 lined, iambic pentameter, sonnet. But here is to the man that wouldn’t kiss me when i took him to new york for my birthday because he wanted me to be just as miserable as he was (he hated cities), who told me it was my obligation to stay with him after i left because i slept with him and that meant we were already married, who told me i couldn’t pray over him because i didn’t grow up in the ideal Christian home, (my family is fucked but at least we are real, i love them) the man who lied to me, the man who went behind my back, the man who made me want to so desperately drive my car off the road. To the man who made me reach my breaking point. realizing our relationship was a choice of life or death, here’s to him.

I’m sorry i didn’t love you and i’m sorry i didn’t leave you sooner. I’m sorry i bought into your comfortability with putting a fake persona into the world and made our life together look perfect on instagram. I'm sorry it took me leaving you in order for you to buy a ring and by that time it was too late. I'm sorry that if we did get married and our relationship got worse I would've killed myself before I would've left you. I’m sorry I don’t believe in divorce. The bones in my body don’t ever ache for vengeance because I simply do not care enough. I’m sorry that you thought I was a fighter. I’m sorry because I'm simultaneously not sorry at all. I wish you the very best and if there is one thing I ask of you, it's that you don’t treat the next girl you pursue the way you treated me. Listen to her. Love her. Put her before yourself. Allow her to love herself for who she wants to be, not who you want to make her. I’m glad I broke myself, then broke you, in hopes you’d learn not to break her one day. Good luck to you.

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delhi-architect2 · 4 years

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Journal - 8 Demands for All Future Architects

Michael Riscica is a Licensed Architect, Speaker and Thought Leader, who is deeply committed in helping the NEXT Generation of Architects succeed in their careers. Michael has helped thousands of ARE Candidates pass their exams and creates ARE 5.0 study materials at The Young Architect Academy.

Dear Future Young Architects,

First and foremost, I want you to know that I love and support each and every one of you! I get really excited about architecture when I look at what is happening with younger generations.

This is partly what inspired me to start the Young Architect blog. I got bored with all the Old Architect blogs. I mean, yeah, all those old white guys are really, really nice people. But I just thought the world needed a Young Architect blog.

I have a few important things I would like to discuss in my letter to “Future Young Architects.” So let’s get started …

1. Please do some soul-searching before you start working on your architecture license.

I don’t believe a vegan diet is universally healthy for everyone on the planet. Sure, many people thrive on it, but everyone has different habits, beliefs, upbringings, lifestyles and (most importantly) physiologies. A vegan diet may be the very worst diet for some people. But a diet is a personal decision: Who am I to tell anyone what’s right or wrong?

I also don’t believe everyone who graduates architecture school needs to become a Licensed Architect. In full disclosure, I’ll admit that at this point in my life I have accidentally stumbled into the business of architectural licensing and I would appreciate it if everyone going through this process would read my very popular book, appropriately titled How To Pass The Architecture Registration Exam. Despite this, I wholeheartedly believe that architecture licensing is not a requirement for “being successful.”

The profession has collectively been fostering the belief that there is only one path: Everyone with an architecture degree needs to become a Licensed Architect. If you don’t get your architecture license, you’ve wasted your expensive education, and you’re basically a loser.I couldn’t disagree more.

Please do some soul-searching before you start working on your architecture license. Make sure licensing is the right thing for you. It may or may not be. Architectural licensing is a very personal decision. It’s as personal as the diet or religion you choose to adhere to. I completely support you in whatever decision you arrive at. Both decisions can and will have positive and negative impacts in the long term depending on what your personal life goals are.

Most importantly, stop letting architects from another generation bully you into thinking you must have an architecture license and that expensive AIA membership, because you really don’t need it — IF they’re not aligned with what you want to accomplish in your life. I have zero patience with this “You’re either with us or against us” approach to inspiring Young Architects toward licensing.

Via Arch Student

2. Please stop waiting for permission.

We all went to architecture school so we could learn how to make cool shit happen.

Then after school was over, you quietly sat and waited for permission from a company, a boss, a client or some other outside force or circumstance to give you permission to share your unique gifts with the world.

Have you ever realized how self-absorbed everyone is? No one is ever going to pay attention to you, unless you grab their attention. No one is ever going to ask you to put yourself out there and share whatever value you have to offer the world.

I’ll say that again … If you’ve been waiting to be asked to put yourself out there, it’s never going to happen. Everyone is way too busy checking how many Instagram followers they have.

STOP WAITING FOR PERMISSION!

JUST DO IT!

3. Please honor and respect the past.

Our parents and grandparents’ generations blazed a fantastic trail that will help us take the profession to the next level. There is sooo much value in analyzing them and seeing what we can learn from their careers — good and bad. Sometimes, finding bad examples can be more powerful than finding good ones.

Study them, learn from them, ask them a lot of questions, use them as a resource and thank them for their contributions to the profession. Apply what you’ve learned to help you figure out what you want to do, how to be successful or how to see the mistakes you never want to make.

Either way, alwaysappreciate and acknowledge their hard work. Tell them how thankful you are to have them as a teacher.

Via JUMO

4. Please volunteer your time.

Society needs your help. Architecture may be a service profession, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need to volunteer your time without getting paid.

We became architects so we could make a difference and make the world a little bit better. And yes, we’re doing that. But you still need to take your architect hat off for a minute: Turn off the computer and volunteer as a citizen contributing to society.

I don’t care how, but you must volunteer. Service means giving your time, energy and attention to someone who needs it. The “I’m too busy” argument is old and tired. You’re always going to be too busy. There will never be a better time, which is why you need to start right now.

Your time and attention is more valuable than your money. Volunteering doesn’t mean throwing money at a problem. And it doesn’t mean donating time to build some silly, glossy art exhibit inside your local AIA office — that no one will ever see. Volunteering means giving time to a person or a cause that genuinely needs your focused attention.

5. Please be yourself … And find situations that allow you to be yourself!

NOTHING is unhealthier than putting on uncomfortable clothes you don’t enjoy wearing, showing up at a job you don’t like and working with people who don’t acknowledge or appreciate you. Day after day, year after year.

Every day you do this, it is the equivalent of feeding your soul a McDonald’s and cheap generic diet soda!

It’s not easy finding an employment situation that is aligned with who you are and how you want to be an architect.

Be realistic with yourself. Do you want to work 50 to 60 hours a week pushing projects and your career? Or do you want to work a maximum of 40 hours a week so you can spend time raising a healthy family? There is no right or wrong answer. Both are definitely noble pursuits. You need to find a firm that is aligned with who you are, how you want to work, spend your time and live your life.

There are a million different types of firms and jobs. It’s often significantly easier to find a new architecture firm that understands what you’re looking for, rather than change the existing culture of an office. It’s a lot like dating, you just have to figure out what you want first.

6. Please don’t contribute negativity without taking positive action.

The profession of architecture gets thrown under the bus all the time. There is no shortage of bad news or problems in architecture. It doesn’t help that Architects are trained and given college degrees in sniffing out problems or recognizing how things could be always better.

The profession of architecture isn’t fair. It’s not only a big gender or diversity issue, it’s an issue for everyone. Architecture leaves people behind who can’t compete and adapt to change. The profession is supposed to reward hard work and those who can execute. The same time it often treats those same people unfairly.

The truth is: Every single person who has found success with architecture has been burned by this profession at one time or another. People get lied to, not paid and sued. At the same time, the successful ones have taken those setbacks and used them as opportunities for inspiration to keep moving forward. This profession isn’t easy and is highly competitive.

There is way too much complaining about the profession. If architecture has burned you and you can’t use that to take positive action, then maybe you should find another profession. No one wants to be around a person who is complaining all of the time.

Try to connect with the positivity in the profession and people doing great things and making changes within architecture. While we’re not perfect as a profession, only focusing on how terrible it is, without pairing it to positive action, isn’t helping us move forward.

The very last thing I’ll say about negativity is that every industry has its own problems. Nurses, lawyers, doctors, astronauts, golfers, scientists, firefighters, politicians, real estate agents and definitely teachers all have their fair shares of issues in their own industries. I recently listened to a physician tell me about all the trauma she went through in medical school. The grass isn’t greener. The Architects and the AIA aren’t special.

Via Klear

7. Please don’t let architecture ruin your health.

Pretty self-explanatory.

Did you know: Spending one hour each day exercising your body will have a significantly larger impact on your success as an architect than if you spent it sitting in front of that AutoCAD/Revit machine for another hour? You need to get your blood moving, eat REAL food and breathe every day. If your belly isn’t moving, you’re not breathing.

One hour a day isn’t a big commitment for your health and well-being. Unfortunately, your architecture career will do everything it can to try to prevent or rob you from taking this time. Your #1 job is to defend this time and take care of yourself first. Your life, career and everyone you take care of all depend on how well you can take care of yourself. I sound pretty dramatic, but this is the truth.

8. Screw around!

I am the King of Screwing Around. I have the five-year bachelor’s degree in architecture … and a Ph.D. in screwing around and jackassery.

If architecture didn’t give me permission to screw around, I would have ended this relationship many years ago. I don’t care what your Boss or Professor tells you … Design, project management and making money is mentally exhausting work. We’re humans, not architecture machines. So I’m going to screw around a little.

Screwing around is an important part of my creative process — If I didn’t screw around, I wouldn’t learn anything. By taking my mind off the problem to fool around, it helps me focus when it’s time to be serious. This is why I get more work done than everyone else. It’s because I laugh more, while everyone else is serious.

I wholeheartedly give you permission to screw around if it’s going to help you work hard, be focused and do better work. In fact, here are a few stupid blog posts I wrote to encourage your screwing around.

The Architect’s Postmodern Thanksgiving!

The ARE Book Reviews

Gifts and Toys For Architecture Students

Cheezy Architecture Videos

Thank You!

I want to give a shoutout to all of my good friends in the American Institute of Architecture Students. You know who you are. I see all of your conversations and everything you’re working on come across my social-media feeds. The rest of the profession has absolutely no idea how well-networked and supportive of each other you are. I am inspired and excited to watch your careers unfold.

Thank you for being great leaders, helping others and giving unconditionally to make the world a better place.

You all have the power to make massive change across the board. And you’re already doing it! We’ll get there by working hard and staying positive, committed and disciplined!!

Sincerely, your biggest cheerleader,

Michael Riscica AIA

Architects: Showcase your next project through Architizer and sign up for our inspirational newsletter.

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