#bilingual friend is my mutual wonder if he sees this

[mikeyhasthoughts]

thinking about a few days ago when a bilingual friend texted me about a really unfortunate translation error he made while on the phone with a family member

accidentally told them “congratulations” while trying to say “much luck” after their dad had died

received this text while in front of a different friend -> “oh NO” “what” “i should NOT be laughing”

[screemnch]

Heterotopias, Pathologic, and what they have in common.

In the introductions of these I tend to put completely unrelated life anecdotes, because this isn't an academic paper. With that being said - I do hope to put together the next instalment of the bilingual madness project that I've started, but not right now. I'm in the part of my life where I'm majoring in a subject and a few months of study have granted me the delusion that I actually know things, and I'm taking that and running with it. This little unhinged essay will include the following:

A brief recap of who Foucault is (really brief. Just for the context)

A little less brief recap of his concept of the "heterotopia", an explanation of some necessary concepts and essays on the subject

The examination of heterotopias in game - how they exist within the fictional town on Gorkhon and what that means

Finally, a pretentious talk about video games and specifically Pathologic as a heterotopia, where I might go completely off the rails and lose all my trains of thought at once.

So let's get started.

Who is Michel Foucault?

Michel Foucault (1926-1984) was a French philosopher, critic, activist and damn near everything. There are few topics in my current major where his name doesn't come up. He's had a say in theories of language, gender, sexuality, identity, space, politics, power and so on and so forth. There have also been multitudes of people criticising his ideas, and not without good reason. In this discussion I'm not putting this dude on a pedestal and I don't encourage anyone to base their whole understanding of philosophy on one French guy's opinion. That being said, let's go look at some of his ideas in terms of language and space.

What is a "heterotopia"?

Wikipedia kindly tells me that the word was first used in the preface of an essay called "the Order of Things". In the preface, Foucault compared it directly to the concept of a utopia (which is where the alarm bells go off for any and all pathologic fans). This was preceded by an important discussion of language in terms of relations - the idea that many concepts and things are described and perceived through the lens of comparison and juxtaposition. Think about how one would perceive light by comparing it to darkness. In Foucault's opinion, these relations make up a grid that shapes our perception. These relations are, by definition, also mutually exclusive. That which is a dog cannot also be a cat. That which the language defines as close cannot be far.

Which is why, immediately after that, Foucault says "lol, syke" there ARE things that can encompass these contradictory sites within themselves; a fantastical conceptual instance in which something like that is possible - he calls those things "utopias". In the preface he even calls the road to such a utopia "chimerical". The more common view of a utopia is "a perfect place with no flaws". But in Foucault's writing, utopias are something that rises above our perception of relations and embodies multiple contradictory things at once - which is what makes it perfect. Most importantly, however - utopias have no physical space. They cannot. Our language doesn't allow for something that exists outside of comparisons, especially not when it physically manifests in our world.

This is why, for example, in pathologic, Aglaya Lilich so vehemently insists that the Polyhedron cannot stand. She calls it a utopia, and those things cannot exist, must not exist. They cannot take up physical space. Which is when our good friend Foucault comes back for a surprise round.

See, we were lead to believe that utopias cannot exist, and it's meant to be a comfort - there isn't anything in our perception of the world that shatters our grid of comparisons and juxtapositions and that's wonderful. But we were, all of us, deceived. And we should be scared, because, to quote him directly - "Heterotopias are disturbing, probably because they secretly undermine language, because they make it impossible to name this and that, because they shatter or tangle common names, because they destroy 'syntax' in advance, and not only the syntax with which we construct sentences but also that less apparent syntax which causes words and things (next to and also opposite of one another) to 'hold together'" (this is still from the preface, yeah). In saying this he does not make clear what exactly a heterotopia is, which is why we'll turn to his other works. Namely "Heterotopias" (the introduction to which, written by Anthony Vidler helped me a ton in understanding what the hell this overly verbose dude is talking about) and its later iteration called "Of Other Spaces." I think those were both originally speeches, but I've found them transcribed, and I'm more focused on their meaning anyway. Those two texts are almost the exact same thing, with a few select differences, which aren't exactly relevant.

We get our proper explanation in these essays that I'll sum up to my best ability. A heterotopia is something that takes up physical space, yet has properties similar to a utopia. A physical space that embodies contradictory qualities. One of his early examples of something that is a heterotopia (but also a utopia at the same time, go figure) is the mirror; the false reality in which you are portrayed in a physical space where you are not, because you are quite clearly not standing in front of yourself, makes it a utopia. Yet the fact that by existing it creates a space in which you are technically standing in front of yourself makes it a heterotopia. He also points out a children's playground as a heterotopia. In "Heterotopias" the essay he likens it to children playing on their parents bed, but we could compare it to, say... A sandbox. Children playing in a sandbox is a heterotopia. The sandbox is a physical space, and yet it's also an unreal "other" space that exists in the children's perception. This space, say, a town, is both existent and non-existent. Contradictory.

Foucault goes to say more about the kinds of heterotopias that can exist, and as he mentions them, it becomes clear as to why architects took to the concept so readily. Many of these heterotopias are not just physical spaces, but buildings - theatres, museums, prisons, etc. There are other types of heterotopias - cemeteries, or "heterotopias of festival", but that's beside the point. A prominent example Foucault brings up is the brothel (a place both public and private at the same time) but he states the "perfect" heterotopia to be the boat/ship. Seriously, he calls them the "greatest reservoir for our imaginations" ("Heterotopias") and waxes poetic about how if we didn't have boats we'd be deprived of dreams. But hey, I'm here talking about a video game, who am I to judge.

Architecture, Space, and the Town on Gorkhon

Good old Wikipedia defines heterotopias as spaces that are somehow "other." Which is a good explanation for people who already know what a heterotopia is. As I've explained above, it's a little bit more complicated than that. However when I first heard the definition, my brain went "That's the Polyhedron! That's the stupid tower from that one game I'm obsessed with!" And indeed, it'd be easy to look at Wikipedia's definition of a heterotopia and compare it to the Polyhedron - it's most definitely "other." Even by what we've established here - it's a utopian contradiction that exists in physical space. So is Aglaya Lilich wrong for calling it a "utopia"? Is it actually a "heterotopia"? Would that change anything at all about the events of the game?

Real answer is: I dunno. Out of context of the game's story, it very much would count as a heterotopia (if we treat it as something existing within a real space, not in game space). It would be an architectural wonder, but it would also be a physical space that encompasses multiple things at once. It's made of paper and mirrors at the same time. It's precarious and safe at the same time. You could even bring in a specific type of heterotopia it could be - namely a "crisis heterotopia" (as outlined by Foucault in both "Heterotopias" and "Of other spaces") - a kind that is supposedly phasing out of existence. A place where people go when they are in a state of crisis. This is where debate would no doubt arise, because there are a bunch of types of heterotopias it could be (heterotopia of deviation, for example) and I love that. It's contradictory. It cannot be juxtaposed to other types of heterotopias. It shatters the liguistic definitions we cling to. Meta as fuck and I love that for her.

But also, raining on the parade of "the Polyhedron is totes a heterotopia, y'all" is the existence of context within and without the game. The town on Gorkhon is not a real space, and isn't in a real time. And that is both as a "game space" (a game played by kids in a sandbox) and as a ""game space"" (a game played by us, the players). In this way, concepts can manifest themselves without manifesting, things can exist without existing. The Polyhedron only takes up physical space within the eyes of the dolls, but to the kids it is no more real than the town itself. Within the laws of the game - the Polyhedron never became a heterotopia. It's a concept that the children spoke into existence, a contradictory thing, that also remains within a fantastical "game space". It's only rational that Aglaya would call it a utopia - her meta awareness allows her to see the tower, the whole town, for what it is. And as a utopia, it should not have a physical manifestation within the world that Aglaya can perceive. She is still just a doll, after all, and the world she perceives is physical to her, even if she knows it's just "game space".

I'm not posing either one of these ideas as "the correct one". You can choose to believe that the Polyhedron is a heterotopia, or you can believe that it's a utopia because it's all a game. You can even say that all of this is bs, and all the developers at IPL were trying to say is that perfection is impossible. But I'm gonna keep playing around and talk about another fun thing: the heterotopias are everywhere.

Go back to treating the town on Gorkhon as a physical space again. You may recall in the examples of heterotopias I cited some buildings and spaces that might sounds particularly interesting. A theatre. A cemetery. There's also the idea that heterotopias have a unique relationship with time, in terms of either constantly accumulating time (museums) or emphasising its transience (fairgrounds). This temporal quality may remind you of the Catherdal in marble nest, where it warps time and changes the way it's perceived. In all honesty, when considering heterotopias besides the Polyhedron, my first thought went to the Abbatoir - it's a place where only select few are allowed, where a collective exists both privately and within the eye of society (which is also themselves), that accumulates time from way back in the history of the town. In short, just like the real world, the town on Gorkhon is full of heterotopias. And it's not surprising - Foucault's first principle of heterotopias established in both of the aforementioned essays is that "there is probably not a single culture in the world that fails to constitute heterotopias". Similarly, no longer thinking of the town on Gorkhon as a physical space, the town becomes a heterotopia as well. That is - it's a town within a sandbox during some kids' playtime. Delightfully meta. Let's all get delightfully meta, shall we?

Are video games heterotopias?

I was unable to find if Foucault has ever said anything about video games throughout his life. Technically he has existed at the same as them, but maybe at this point he had lost interest in talking about these spaces. There are multiple articles out there talking about games and Foucault's theories, and the sole reason why I haven't read them for this essay is because I didn't want to go down a goddamn rabbit hole and waste the next 8 hours reading about... Idk, tadpoles or smth. Let's work from the start, shall we?

Foucault clearly states that children playing pretend in a physical space is heterotopic. The place where they play becomes a heterotopia. Jumping off of that we can assume that things such as LARP (which takes place in a select location) is also a heterotopia, with an addition of some rules that the players adhere to. This leads us to considering things such as live dnd sessions heterotopic as well - players are gathered around a table. Their combat map, the physical space the DM uses to create the imagined space - all becomes a heterotopia (yes I made it about dnd, I'm a nerd of many talents). Once we take a step further, towards things like online dnd sessions and eventually video games - an important question emerges: can digital space house heterotopias? I'm sure Foucault would have considered cyberspace itself a heterotopia, if I've understood him correctly so far (and if I haven't... That sucks, cuz we're almost at the end of the essay). Can a heterotopia exist within another heterotopia? Would it be possible to peel away a layer by claiming that the digital screen - our window to the cyberspace, to the "game space" - constitutes as physical space? Is a video game, in that case, a heterotopia as well? And does that mean that by playing Pathologic we are experiencing a heterotopia, within a heterotopia, within a heterotopia? Are you tired of the "h" word yet?

Truth is, once again: I dunno. I like to believe that it is, cuz it allows me to think of Pathologic as something even cooler than I originally thought. Something even more meta. It's interesting thinking about how something that came from linguistics then went into architecture and eventually came to media entertainment. I also really like the implications that come with the significance of this concept in regards to the architect characters present within Pathologic. I wonder if they knew (given how patho is set in a dubious time, so it'd be difficult to establish if them knowing about Foucault's theories would even be possible). In part I just also felt fascinated by many people linking Pathologic to concepts within theatre (like Codex Entry, or that one post on here about Edward Gordon Craig by tumblr user erriga) and got really excited about bringing something similar to the table. I hope it sparks some discussion and brings forth some ideas from other passionate fans. Anyways.

Go read the actual stuff:

https://www.jstor.org/stable/43202545

https://www.jstor.org/stable/464648

(sorry about the links if they don't work. I'm not technologically advanced enough to figure out if smth is wrong before I post it)

[captmickey]

Don't mind if I do~

For everyone's dashboard consideration, I'll put it under the readmore and point out, once more, this is all silly headcanons that flip flop around so like... yeah.

Here we go!

For Dee: - I like to imagine her parents are something akin to a doctor/herbologist, which is why she is so into reading about facts and such. I also like to imagine her parents as inter-racial though that one is still being figured out (and with it, I like to think she's bilingual). - She is the easiest to make laugh no matter how tough she tries to come off as. And she is tough, but Boybrush and Chuckie know exactly what to do to make her laugh really hard. - She bonded with Chuckie over a mutual interest in pirate trading cards, they had a bit of a competition who could have the better deck before really bonding and sharing facts (she got really excited to learn it was Chuckie that got Boybrush into it too). - Refused to believe Guybrush could hold his breath for ten minutes until Boybrush grabbed her arm and took her to see his dad where Guybrush did it (more or less). She is determined to learn the science behind it and wonders if she could do it too. - Very protective of her boys and will throw hands at the nearest bully if they hurt either of them. It takes both Chuckie and Boybrush to hold her back.

For Chuckie: - His dad is a sailor and is pretty often out at sea (so not so much a negligent dad, but someone who is out on jobs pretty frequent to make sure the family is provided financially), so he's with his mom who occasionally takes odds and ends job. - Speaking of mom, I don't know why I'm drawn to the name Marigold but I am so.... tada. - Chuckie is incredibly shy talking around adults. He can and does joke and throw remarks around Dee and Boybrush, but when an adult enters the room? Goes quiet and lets the others do the talking. - Tallest of the group (and grows up to be THE tallest, sorry Boybrush) and can often be mistaken for someone who is rough... but he's not. He's a big ol' softy (except, again, around Boybrush and Dee where he's more relaxed and will get protective if needed). - Initially terrified of Guybrush. He's heard of stories and tales and such and was a bit of a fan of them somewhat, and he really loves hanging around Boybrush, but a part of him is terrified that Guybrush will go after him because his name is similar to LeChuck and tries to limit as many interactions with Guybrush. It wasn't until Boybrush asked his dad to talk to Chuckie and Guybrush reassuring him that he has nothing to worry about, he won't go hunting after his son's best friend, and even apologizes for scaring him unintentionally (though he has no idea what he did exactly).

For Boybrush (Lucas), - He wanted to go to school only because Chuckie and Dee were there. He's there most of the year until an adventure pops up... then it's back to home-schooling. - Bonded with Chuckie over pirate trading cards because he once saw him in the park with a card of his dad on it. Beamed up and went "Hey, that's my dad! 8D" and the rest was history. - Always comes back with presents for Chuckie and Dee when he returns from an adventure with his parents, ranging from shells to unique items he found while away. - He has a school yard bully and she is meeeeeeeeean. It takes a lot to rile Boybrush up but she can do it in no time by insinuating that his parents aren't really his and that he is adopted etc. She will also bully and say things how Chuckie is really LeChuck's son and Dee will be alone... He compares her as his LeChuck with how angry she makes him. Bonus of Guybrush and Elaine: - Even though Boybrush gets great education from Elaine, Winslow, and occasionally Guybrush, he still wanted to go to school. Elaine initially was confused but figured it would be good for him to socialize while Guybrush doesn't get it but won't stop his son either... he wants him to have the things he never had when he was a kid (school, parents, friends etc). - Guybrush is great with English and can and does help not just Boybrush, but Chuckie and Dee with their homework from time to time. But it's Elaine Boybrush goes to for any and all other subjects. Primarily math. - Guybrush and Elaine are really good friends with Chuckie and Dee's parents. They figured it didn't hurt to befriend other parents since, with respect to Carla and everyone else, they could use some time with other parents. - Hilariously enough, although Chuckie is scared a little of Guybrush, Guybrush is really good friends with Marigold and offers to help her when he can while her husband is away. Elaine finds it endearing that Guybrush even offered such a thing and is proud of him. - During one of their adventures, Guybrush, Elaine and Boybrush ran into Chuckie's dad while he was on a job. Chuckie's dad got so excited and asked them for when they go back home to deliver a present to his wife and son since he won't be home for a bit. - Guybrush, Elaine, and Marigold don't exactly get along well with the PTA, but it's Guybrush that has an on-going feud with Helen from the Parent-Teacher Association. He initially did not care for it (he's a pirate, why would he care) but it was when Helen said something akin to being a bad parents that had him go into Spiteful Mode and learn how to properly bake better lemon squares. He will also trash talk with Marigold during any meetings if Elaine is there with them.

[lutawolf]

hi luta, i just want so slide by and say thank you

for bringing kind metas (posts) on lita/prapaisky , and mame's a bit too. i am forever grateful.

--

im a tumblr user for bl stuff in 2020, followed some huge blogs & learned a lot about bl cuz im fairly new. i had forgotten about it until i rejoined a couple months ago for prapaisky' lita -- expecting to share the same excitement / reading wonderful metas / learning things again

i ... im pretty perplexed to read the blogs i used to read for info / metas im looking forward to ... expressed mean, mean, things.

i felt nauseous. i didnt realize the people whose metas i used to love can be so. cruel. i had hoped i can find some articulation of what I felt, as a shared feelings, but not only i didnt find it, i, felt ashamed to even had my feelings from the first place. i had to dived in the tag rabbit hole and finally found blogs that expressed the opposites, and thank god i did. thank god i did.

(followed them right away, n unfollow thw prev blogs that i now, see, as ... no)

this tho, had me actually ignored the whole tag whlist it airs, and put notif on for the ones i now value, yours included. it got me thru the whole journey of ep11-13, especially, Especially, 12. the special ep tho, the special ep got me branched out again towards the tag and see people bashing it again undermining it as the sex ep. and kinkshaming rain. is it so bad to have a happy, mutual, consent sexual relationship? i thought we dont kinkshame now

i . i dont know what to think. i am sorry to barging in like this. i just. all these upsetting experience piled up and i just. had to. express my gratitude that u at least shown me the kind side of this perspective.

i apologize for the incoherency, english is not my first language, i wish this isnt too rude..

no need to answer this if u dont want to, i just, had to say it to you. all the love, anon.

Hey Hey lil 🐇,

First, let me say welcome back to Tumblr! I'm actually pretty new. I reached a year anniversary this month. Though I am not new to bl at all. I'm OG there.

Negative reviews are a part of life. However, there is a difference between being hateful and writing a neg review. There is a difference between cancel culture and I don't watch this or participate in this type of art. I think that people are failing to see the differences. Life is not white and black.

There will always be kink shaming. It's not from men though. It's from women. These same women that are talking shit, reading romance on their kindle when no one is looking and wouldn't think twice about their boyfriend asking them to wear a French maid costume. As an amazing friend once told me, this is your room and you cultivate it the way you need to. He blocks people left and right, creating the atmosphere that he wants on Tumblr. I've learned to do the same. I may end up in a bubble but it's a tiny community of people I truly enjoy and love.

Never apologize for English being your second language. Being bilingual is an accomplishment that should only get love not judgement. You guys will never and I mean NEVER see me criticize the way someone writes, from spelling to commas, to anything. I'll never do it. I might ask for clarification but there will never be criticism. We are all here to learn and better ourselves and that is not accomplished by sitting in judgement.

I really appreciate that you read my blog and enjoy it. It means the world to me that you guys reach out to me. All the love. Wishing you the best. Thank you, 💜💜💜

[realcube]

haikyuu!! boys learning that you speak another language 💬

characters: sugawara, oikawa, bokuto, akaashi & kuroo

thanks to anon for this amazing request 💞

(y/n) = your name

(L) = language of your choice

tw// self deprecating joke, swearing 

Kōshi Sugawara

honestly, idk how he didn’t know that you spoke a second language before y’all started dating bc he seems like the sort of guy to ask those sort of questions while flirting/making conversating

but anyway, he probably learned that you spoke another language on the first date

he took you on a study date to the library and one of the subjects he was studying was French, and he was clearly struggling

‘ugh, this is quite tricky- we’ve got a test coming up and i can’t even remember how to say ‘bread’. hah, i’m definitely going to fail..’

you rolled your eyes, leaning across the table to deliver a gentle chop to his head, ‘negativity begone!’

sugawara chuckled before relaxing back in his chain, fidgeting with his pencil as he shifted his attention off his revision sheets and onto you, ‘did you take a language this year?’ he inquired, trying to make conversation to momentarily take his mind off the piles of revision he had to do

you squinted, biting your own tongue as you attempted to equally divide your attention between your date and the complex maths question you were working on, ‘no, i couldn’t be bothered. plus, i can speak (L) so it’s not as if i’m a monolinguist.’ 

suga blinked rapidly at this new information; so wondering if he had heard you correctly, he questioned further, ‘you speak (L)? really? i don’t think you’ve ever mentioned anything about that before.’

you shrugged, letting out a slight sigh before placing your pencil down; realising that if Suga was going to continue talking, it might be rude for you to keep working. ‘oh, have i not? well- now you know!’ you hummed, shooting your boyfriend a sweet smile.

‘how can one person be so smart and stunning?’ he mused, resting his cheek on his palm as his elbow was propped up onto the table

‘i should be asking you that, kōshi.’

he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how humble you were; ah, if only you knew how much he admired you. 

suga could only imagine being bilingual yet you could effortlessly speak a second language fluently, he was sure that if you were to take up volleyball, the team would waste no time in replacing him with you 

anyway, he was so impressed that you can speak (L) and he shows it lol

like if you talk down on yourself, he’ll call you out SO quick regardless but he will also mention your second language somehow lmao

for example:

you groaned upon skimming the message your professor sent you along with your test result, ‘ugh, i got 68% - so fucking close to an A! i’m so stupid..’

you thought sugawara was preoccupied with cooking dinner until he came rushing into your room, making you jolt when he slammed the door open, ‘who’s stupid?! are hinata & kageyama in here somewhere? because i know that you weren’t talking about yourself!’

you buried your face into your hands to not only let out a elongated groan, but also so he didn’t see the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips

‘and i know that you didn’t call my gorgeous, intelligent, selfless, bilingual sweetheart stupid! take that back, (y/n). ’

and he would not leave you alone until you took it back IUFHEIEVAB

also, another example.

you walked by a bright pink trash can with Suga by your side and in the interest of ✨ comedy ✨, you chuckled and blurted out, ‘hey, that’s me.’

‘if that trash can is bilingual, then yes.’

Tōru Oikawa

you probably first told him you spoke (L) a while into your relationship  — but not too long — so maybe like 6 months

and you only told him bc y’all were having an argument over the schoolwork and you were sure that your method was correct while oikawa thought otherwise

but after a while, it kinda just turned into a battle of ‘who is smarter?’ rather than trying to figure out who’s method was correct 

so you just blurted out from spite, ‘tough talk coming a one-language-speaking peasant.’ 

oikawa rolled his eyes, ‘how many languages do you speak then, smart-ass?’

‘english, japanese and (L)’

he blinked rapidly, unable to come up with a snarky remark, he cocked his head to the side and inquired, ‘you speak (L)?’

you nodded, your lips curling into a smile, ‘yep!’

grrr curse your adorable smile >:(

oikawa was simply unable to be mad anymore ✋ must give kithes to his  trilingual s/o instead (���￣ 3￣)づ

he smirked back at you before pulling you in by your waist and peppering an infinite amount of kisses across your face, ‘awh, i didn’t know you speak 3 languages. you’re so clever, angel.’  he said in between kisses, using his strong grip to sway y’all side-to-side as he expressed his love

 and oikawa is kinda an exhibitionist sometimes so he will definitely mention that when he hypes you up/shows you off at events

and mf will never stop-

even after the time-skip 🤠

he’ll bring you to a party celebrating a cup victory for his team and while everyone there is trying to praise him for his perfect sets, he’s quite tipsy and just goes, ‘thank you. thank you. but have you seen (y/n) tonight? they look so gorgeous- especially their eyes, i hope our kids have their eyes.’ he rambled, his speech a bit slurred so everyone had to do a double-take to make sure they were hearing him correctly

was he seriously raving on about his s/o when he literally just won a world cup?

‘oh and did i mention they’re four-lingual? literally. they speak English, Japanese, (L) and Portuguese so they could live here with me.’

it was embarrassing in the moment but at least there was no press at the party

plus, you both always look back on these moments and laugh tbh

also, just bc he was drunk didn’t mean that his words were empty - he meant everything he said, the alcohol only helped him voice everything confidently 

Kōtarō Bokuto

ok so he learned that you spoke (L) 6 months into your marriage

his big personality makes up for his ignorance-

you were on call with a mutual friend who could also speak (L), hence you were both talking in (L) lol

meanwhile bokuto was just sitting on the other side of the couch and it took him half an hour to realise that you were speaking another language 

however, you were hardly alert either considering it took you god-knows how long to notice that bokuto was staring at you with wide, starry eyes

and you literally just froze- then proceeded to excuse yourself for a moment before muting your microphone

���bo, are you alright? why are you looking at me like that?’ you asked, concern clear in your tone as you dropped your phone to rush over to him, hastily pressing the back of your had against his forehead

bokuto shook his head abruptly, snapping out of his glazed gaze to pull you onto his lap, ‘were you speaking a foreign language just there?!’

‘yeah, (L). I’m fluent.’ you replied, rather shocked as he went from a statue to his regular, energetic self in the blink of an eye

he cocked his head to the side with wide eyes  — and it was moments like these were you could really see the resemblance between him and an owl  — before wrapping you in a hug, resting his cheek on your shoulder. 

‘i didn’t know that you could speak (L), babe! that’s so fuckin’ cool! do you think you could teach me?’ 

you giggled, both from his lively response and how the vibrations from his speech tickled your neck

‘sure, but i have to finish my call first.’  you hummed before springing to your feet, grabbing you phone and strolling out of the living room to continue the call in the privacy of your bedroom

and don’t think bokuto forgot about you agreeing to teach him bc he was planking outside of the bedroom, waiting for you to finish your call so he could jump out at you once you tried to exit,

‘HOW DO YOU SAY ‘I’D LIKE FRIES WITH THAT’ IN (L)?!’  

‘FUCK!’ you screamed, your phone falling out of your hand as bokuto just jump-scared you in your own home

you try to teach him ofc but it’s quite difficult for him to learn (L) while he’s simultaneously trying to learn English and Spanish 

he didn’t exactly give up on trying to learn it but the frequency of his lil’ questions of ‘how do you say this is (L)?’ and ‘how do you say that in (L)?’ became less and less 

however, whenever you speak (L) in front of him, he always looks at you with wide, dreamy eyes - completely in awe at how clever you are and he’ll take every opportunity he can to praise you for it

oh and he has you saved in his phone as ‘gorgeous, bilingual wifey 😩💞💕💖’

Keiji Akaashi

he probably learns that you can speak another language on the second or third date

y’all were talking about hobbies you wanted to take up, then akaashi pulled out his note titled ‘ ↳ languages i should learn’ and the first one he uttered was (L) so you immediately chimed in

‘oh! i can speak (L)! i could teach you  — if you want.’

akaashi couldn’t help but smile softly; even though he had a bunch of assignments due, along with all the approaching tests he had to study for, he just couldn’t say no to your offer  — you just looked so excited

plus, there was no harm in trying to learn a language alongside his schoolwork

he humbly accepted; further inquiring about your links and relations with the (L) language

anyway, you never really sat akaashi down to teach him (L) or make him take notes or anything, you’d just began with integrating the occasional (L) in an english/japanese sentence

you’d tend to change the noun and given the context, akaashi would be able to figure out what it meant

for example, if y’all were vibin’ on the couch with the TV on in the background, you might ask him to pass the remote but replace the word ‘remote’ with the (L) translation

there was nothing else he could’ve passed to you so he understood that you meant remote

so slowly but surely  — without even realising that he’s learning  — he picks up on quite a lot of the vocabulary 

and by the time y’all are married, he’s basically fluent

oh and on your honeymoon (which is in Italy btw, I just know he’d take you somewhere with a rich history) you are chillin in the pool then out of the corner of your eyes you see akaashi approach you from the edge of the pool, before getting down on one knee 

and you were so confused for a second bc you thought he was proposing again even you recall getting married to him just a few days ago ◉_◉’

however, once he pulled out a box that seemed too large to contain a ring, it piqued your curiosity even more, ‘akaashi?’ you stuttered, eyes wide.

he opened it to reveal a simple silver bangle, pulled it out then offered his hand so he could cuff it around your wrist 

now that the cold metal of the bangle came in contact with your skin, you were finally able to read the text engraved into the silver 

and it was ‘i love you’ in (L) 

Tetsurō Kuroo

you probably told him that you could speak (L) quite early on in the relationship tbh 

he was really proud of you but he only took much of an interest a bit later on

he was just like ‘(y/n), do you know any languages other than japanese and english?’ over some chocolate-covered strawberries

you nodded, ‘yeah, (L). why?’

kuroo gasped, excitedly slamming the kitchen counter with the palm of his hand, ‘i need you to teach me some curses.’

you giggled, taking another bite of your strawberry, ‘heh, why?’

‘because kōtarō keeps muttering things about me in portuguese and oikawa keeps snickering at it - i think they’re bitching about me so two can play at that game.’ kuroo whined before looking at you then shooting you a charming smile, ‘so can you help me?’

he’s adorable so you smiled right back at him and chirped, ‘absolutely not.’

however, you kept his request in mind when you graciously began replacing all your english curses with those in (L)

and obviously he caught on ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

thank you for enabling him, (y/n) 😌

[from-red-string]

I posted 697 times in 2021

5 posts created (1%)

692 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 138.4 posts.

I added 30 tags in 2021

#maya y los tres - 5 posts

#soy luna fic week - 4 posts

#doom at your service - 4 posts

#extraordinary you - 3 posts

#fanfiction - 3 posts

#thank you artist - 3 posts

#that's so cute - 2 posts

#simbar - 2 posts

#thank you - 2 posts

#they look so good - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#the true bilingual experience is at least once thinking the songs was talking about all the 21 nights of september not specifically 21th

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

I just saw a mutual I hadn't seen posting in a long time. When we used to talk, they were going through a tough time. I worried about you but didn't dare to message. I'm happy to see you're alive and seems okay

0 notes • Posted 2021-08-08 19:37:04 GMT

#4

Oi lembra de mim

Oiiee claro KKK que icon lindo

3 notes • Posted 2021-01-16 16:40:30 GMT

#3

The Fall

Soy Luna Ficweek 2021

You can read the fics on @sl-server​

Day 2

Prompt: “I scraped my knee and now you’re fixing it up and I swear if you don’t stop running your hands over my leg, I will kick you.”

Summary: Benício's stubbornness had real consequences. Emília got hurt because her partner is stupid but she can't help but feel her heart racing.  

Warning: blood

Genre: fluff (?) Benício is one of the main characters so you decide what it means

Pairing: Emília x Benício

"Benício, slow down." I heard Juliana yelling from the corner of the rink, but my partner didn't seem to do so keeping the same pace. "Your hand is too high." He ignores her again, not moving his hand on my hip. The next step of this choreography is a lift which wouldn't work because his hands are in the wrong place. I slide away before the next point.

"You need to listen to Juliana." Benicio stared at me in disbelief as if I betrayed him with only a phrase.

"What? Are you crazy? You're telling me to listen to Juliana?" Defensive as always, I wouldn't give in to his stupidity, I set my hands on my hips clearly ready for the confrontation. "She is just picking on me, Emília."

"No, she's right. You won't be able to lift me if you don't keep a steady pace or hold me the right way." He scoffed and looked away. My partner has to be the cockiest person alive. His eyes weren't on me exactly, staring past me, I followed his eyesight line until it landed on Ámbar, he was waiting for reaction to decide on his next act, but Ámbar didn't show anything, she was just watching. 

I'm more than sure Ámbar knows Benício's feelings for her better than Simón's, she wouldn't believe the guitarist could forgive her but knew exactly what Benício expected from her and she wouldn't give him. Benício is too stupid for not noticing Ámbar didn't and won't move on from Simón. I wondered daily if he really liked her or just the idea of having Ámbar.

Benício is complicated, not in a good way, you don't want to stick around to solve his puzzle, learn his cracks, and how to put it all together. He's complex in the sense that you're left guessing why you are still around him, what makes you stay with him. That's where I find myself right now. He's my best friend in Buenos Aires, but why do I trust him?

"Maybe you're not a partner on my level." His voice filled with poison, he knew it would hurt. Pouring alcohol on an open cut. His eyes weren't even on me, focusing on Ámbar. 

"No! You're not on Emília's level, you won't be near mine." She rejected him, nothing new, Benício didn't show surprise. "Hear Juliana." The coach stayed quiet the whole time, she is used to his mood already, he's unbearable when he's like this. 

"Are you done, Benício? From the start." Juliana says not waiting for his answer, counting down before playing the song.

My partner is completely oblivious to what we said, or that's what he wants us to believe. I know him too well, he's putting this as a show to prove his right even when he's wrong. He makes the same mistakes again, switching between rhythm, at a second slowing down to spin then speeding up for our moves together. When he holds me again, his left hand is placed between my back and hips but not on any of them. If that's how he wants to play, I'll accept his lead. 

Until 10 seconds for the lift:

1… He won't be able to lift me at this speed. 2,3… Turning around to face him, I should let go of him. 4,5… His eyes shine with determination, I could trust him. I lowered my kees getting ready. 6,7… His grip on me gets stronger. 8,9… It'll work, pulling myself forward I repeat these words. 10… It's too late to get away, I'll fall.

At first, the lift began as expected, Benício held me high, above his head. A clean move. My legs were at a good height. My right hand pinned to his shoulder while I made the moves I trained so many times before, I watched my fingers moving to make sure it was what I practiced with Juliana but I felt Benício's hands tighten around me, when I looked down at his arms were shaking, and then one of his skates kicked the ground, I immediately prepared myself for the fall, placing my arms around my head and spun to my side. 

Benício fell on my legs making me hit the ground harder, the bruises would color my right side later, I felt my hand get hot and swollen. Although it hurt, my first instinct after remembering how I fell is checking on Benício, his head lying on my thigh, he seems alright, I shake him scared because he wasn't moving. 

"Benício?" He answered to his name with a groan while sitting up. I hear Juliana and Ámbar gasp and notice blood on his neck. "You're bleeding!" He looks at me confused then touches his neck.

"No, Emília that's yours..." Ámbar says kneeling near me to help me sit, Benício softly moves my legs to look for the cut. My black skate tinted read, they were stained. Then when I moved my left leg to the side, the pain started, we found the cut on my knee. It hurt a lot but the scariest part is the blood drips, the red liquid pooling the floor under me. "I'll get the first aid kit," Ámbar warned running. Juliana said she'd help Ámbar and ask someone to clean it. Benício's arm scooped me from the floor, his arms embracing me tightly. He ran to the bleachers. He sits with me on his lap.

"Sorry." He whispers still holding me. Surprised, I tried to escape from his lap but he still held my legs, his eyes landed on mine which made me stop. He felt guilty. "You shouldn't have gotten hurt for me." I can say anything, I shouldn't have been hurt for him. "I just wanted to prove my point." I know that. "You." The last word I heard. Right after that, his hands started moving on my legs, caressing them? His fingers tracing mindless on my skin, his invisible drawing left a trail of goosebumps, his tips were cold in contrast to my temperature. He isn't aware of his acts. My heart races, my head feels lighter, the pain seems like a memory from long ago. He is much less aware of his effect on me. His hands distract her enough for me to absently listen to him, nodding to anything he is saying, probably his apologies.

My own thoughts occupied the surrounding. I accepted falling. I never accepted going on when I knew I was going to be hurt. That's called self-preservation, risking myself for someone else is not okay. This cut would prevent me from practicing at all for 2 days and no heavy training for a week, I don't have time to waste how did allow it to happen. His stupidity is the only answer, it must be contagious. 

Benício calls me getting my attention again, well getting to face him, my head still too clouded for him, I nodded. My eyes began to study his face, noting the details, he's not ugly. If it wasn't for his obsession for Ámbar, he'd be a nice person, we could've been friends with benefits or more than that.

No this again. I hate thinking about this, imagining Benício as a boyfriend seems like a distant dream, something that shouldn't belong in my head but it is a sweet and comforting scenario, Benício is her best friend in Buenos Aires, he was there for her in her brightest and darkest hours, whenever she called him. Did I accept falling not only physically but also metaphorically? Can I just like him?

It has to stop. It's not okay, he's obsessed with Ámbar.

See the full post

10 notes • Posted 2021-02-09 17:57:34 GMT

#2

Instinct

I'm so nervous for posting this for Day 3, I worry if anyone would read about Ana and Mora since they're not even secundary characters, they are just extras not in my heart but in the show, and this made it harder to write it. Anyway, it's here and I hope you like it.

Shout out to @sapphire374 for easing my worries and beta reading it 💛

Find all fics for Soy Luna Ficweek 2021, here

Day 3

Prompt: “Is this the second time we’ve both gotten stuck in the same elevator?”

Summary: The first time Ana and Mora got stuck in the elevator was when they stopped talking, a week later when it happens again: is it the time to rebound? or something more?

Warning: unfortunately it's not canon. Tino and Cato don't exist, they have never seen them, no one knows them in this fic

Genre: angst

Pairing: Ana and Mora a.k.a the lesbian moms

---

Another silent morning in the apartment, a rare situation for Nina. From what she could remember, there has never been a quiet day home ever since they moved in. Mora's sewing machine, some random song playing as background noise, or just Buenos Aires' downtown being crowded and busy. Although she appreciated the silence, it's odd, the girl is not used to it anymore.

Now both her mom and auntie didn't exchange a word, Mora has been working on arranging some photoshoots, she woke up for lunchtime and only came back late at night, while Ana left early for her meetings then arrived at 4 pm. Seems like they had it all planned out just so they didn't have to face each other. 

Nina didn't know what happened between them but hoped it would go away soon.

Well, unexpectedly it got different from other days from the beginning. When Nina left her room, Mora was awake and making herself breakfast. The girl checked the clock again, still at 7 am.

"Good morning, cariño" Mora smiled at her while Nina approached to sit on the chair.

"Morning." She reached for the bread slowly, hesitant. Her instincts told her to move carefully. "I thought I'd only see you later." Mora laughed but it was too stiff.

"I have to drive 3 hours to check for some special fabrics I'm looking for." The redhead tried to show excitement, however, such a rush manner showed her nervousness. Nina knew it wasn't about the fabrics. As soon as the clicks sound of Ana's heels started, Mora stands up. "I really need to go. Bye, darling." And left through the door carrying her purse, phone, and keys.

"Good luck there." Nina greets her and takes Mora's plate away immediately. She'd rather not step into whatever happened. Ana comes from her room in a rush and Nina wide her eyes when her mom gets to the front door. "Mom, you can't leave without eating."

"I'm late already. Sorry, cariño. I'll be back early. Bye… Hold the door, please!" Ana fleed before Nina could react. The girl opens the door to check on them but they were already gone. 

The silence from home followed them into the elevator. None dared to look up from their phones. Mora started to tap her foot impatiently when she noticed the elevator was slow today. 

"Can you stop?" Ana asked, staring at her screen.

"Oh, good morning. Now you can see me." Mora smirked, still avoiding Ana's face, kept tapping her shoe.

"More like I can hear you. Always so noisy."

"Can you? It didn't seem like that last week." The snark got the fashion designer, she provoked back looking at Ana and waiting for a reaction but she got nothing. "Back to ignoring me. Hope Mario has a better shot talking to you than I do." The lack of response from the lawyer building up her annoyance. "Even though we live together and have been friends for a lifetime. You rather believe in him than..."

"Give me a reason," Ana said, losing her temper. The elevator stops, slowing down. "I need a plea." Walking side to side in this shiny box they were failing to realize they were trapped in.

"My instincts are not a good one. I don't trust him." Mora decided to watch her friend through the reflection, pretending to fix her hair in the mirror.

"Of course not." Ana laughed at her. "Do you think I can defend a case based on your feelings? A judge would accept it, declare him guilt for you." Her voice was cold, but the rage -boiling inside was still audible.

"You're not a judge, Ana." Turning around she steps in Ana's way, staring at her. "Ain't a case but your life." Each word was another step forward, the lawyer's back hit the wall, but she wouldn't give up on a debate, her index finger touched Mora's shoulder.

"That's exactly the problem." This time the designer was the one walking backward. "My life is never good enough for you. I can't even decide on Nina's life without you around." Mora's jaw dropped and she stuttered, with a non-comprehensible sound coming from her mouth. "Not even a boyfriend." That's the moment Ana breaks, lowering her head and resting on Mora's shoulder while the other was glued on the wall, still recovering from shook, nevertheless, she wrapped her arms around her friend's body. 

See the full post

12 notes • Posted 2021-02-10 17:59:01 GMT

#1

Before the Storm

It's finally here!! The first day of 2021 Soy Luna fic week!!

It's been a few years since I last wrote a Soy Luna fic, so I took this chance to look for characters and interactions I didn't explore before.

I hope you enjoy reading it!

Day 1

Prompt: “Hey, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve turned your entire living room into a blanket fort and I have no plan in taking it down any time soon.” 

Summary: Matteo told them he never had a blanket fort since he kept moving and his parents were too strict to let him have friends at home. Gastón and Ámbar decided to surprise him.

Warning: probably not canon accurate, they're 14

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Matteo Balsano x Ámbar Smith, Gastón

See the full post

19 notes • Posted 2021-02-08 13:44:41 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[ellixthea]

Hi! May you please write a Henry Cavill one where you’re hanging out with him and you have feelings for him but haven’t had the guts to tell him but that day your sister called you and you started speaking in Spanish to her about Henry but little did you know that he actually knew Spanish and he teased you about it. Happy ending please, thank you!

A/N: although I took Spanish in middle school and high school, I’m terrible at it so please let me know if there is any mistake! Also thank you @iloveyouyen for being my lovely beta and for bearing with me and my dirty mind hahaha.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x reader

Words: 842

Warning: none, only fluff!

Taglist: @onlyhenrys @iloveyouyen @aaescritora @henrythickcavill @hollydaisy23 @mary-ann84 @noz4a2 @margoh1999 @rocknllpoetry @luclittlepond @agniavateira (if you want to be added or removed let me know.)

Henry had been back home from shooting the latest Mission Impossible movie for a week now. He had a few things to do so he couldn’t see you right away. Having to deal with the scheduling of upcoming appearances on Talk shows and interviews for Podcasts and whatnot, had his hand practically glued to his phone, and his phone glued to his ear.

When he was finally free, the two of you decided to hang out at a park so he could also walk Kal. You were excited and happy to see him since he had been gone for several months. 

Henry and you had met throughout a mutual friend. That friend was celebrating his promotion and that was when you saw that tall muscular man. The two of you instantly clicked and spent a lot of time laughing and getting to know one another. And here you are, five years later, supporting Henry in his project and hanging out as much as you two could. He was your closest friend and you were grateful for him. 

It was around 2 p.m when you arrived at the park. You loved it there. Bushes and small beds of colourful and fragrant flowers helped you escape from the rush of life. 

When you got to the entrance you were welcomed by the huge American Akita. “Hey, there big boy!” You kneeled in front of him while caressing his head. By the way, his trail was moving, you could tell he was happy to see you. Henry watched in awe, always happy to see his dog loving the people he cared about. He rose up from your position and went to hug you tightly. 

“I missed you so much, big guy,” you said while hugging him just as tight. 

“I missed you too. You look great by the way,” he said with a charming smile which made you blush. 

During the walk, you would catch up on each other’s lives. You would tell him about your job, that annoying colleague of yours and how you had been and he would tell you about the days on set, the locations he had been to, and about Tom Cruise hurting his ankle. 

You could listen to him telling you his stories for hours, he was a great storyteller. The way his face would light up when he talked about something he’s passionate about, like his job, would always make you happy. 

Both of you would exchange a cute smile and look, which was something usual but they would always make you feel some type of way, the type of way that could ruin a friendship. Because you didn’t know if he ever could reciprocate the feelings you were developing for him.

At some point, during the stroll, you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket. 

“It’s my sister I’m sorry.” you apologized and Henry let you know that it was totally fine.

“Hello?” “Hey Y/N! Where are you? I decided to come by to say hi but you’re not at your place.” your sister told you from the other end of the line. 

“Oh yeah, I’m with Henry we’re hanging out.” Henry smiled at the mention of his name. 

“Ohh Henry huh? Did you tell him how you feel about him?” You could feel your sister smirking through the phone. You felt your face flush. 

“No voy a contarle sobre mis sentimientos. Arruinaría nuestra amistad y no quiero que suceda.”(I will not tell him about my feelings. It would ruin our friendship and I don't want it to happen.)You told your sister in your native language. It was those kinds of moments you were thankful to be bilingual. 

“You’re probably missing a good story but well it’s your choice. Let me know when you want to hang out.” 

“Alright, see you,” you said, hanging up the call. “Sorry about that,” you said while looking at Henry, seeing that he had a smirk painted on his face. You looked at him wondering what he was up to. 

“What? What happened?” You asked him, looking around trying to see if there was something you were missing. 

“You should have told me, about your feeling.” The two of you were now standing in the middle of the soiled path, directly facing each other. It dawned to you that he had been eavesdropping on your phonecall with your sister. 

“Oh boy since when do you understand Spanish?” You asked while hiding your face with both your hands out of shame. He gently removed them from your face for your eyes to meet his. 

“We should talk about it because I’m pretty sure those feeling of yours are mutual,” he announced, giving you a warm smile. You look at him in shock, not knowing what to answer. 

“Oh… Um really?” 

“Yeah.” He started while getting closer to you. “Would you mind it if I kiss you?” “Not at all.” You replied before he rested his lips delicately on yours, giving you a tender and ever so loving kiss.

[halfway-happyyy]

A concept: You had known Alexander on and off for the last few years. You two met through a pair of mutual friends, and when he found out how much you adored dogs, he made an arrangement with you for you to watch his when he was away for work. (Which was more often than not). Admittedly there had always been something between the two of you; an unspoken chemistry that neither of you had ever acted upon. He made a habit of bringing you home little trinkets from his travels that he thought you'd enjoy; beautiful glass ornaments, stationary, exotic snacks. He also had a habit of paying you far too much money for your services; in reality you were just content to spend time with his adorable dog. So you recieved a message from him one night, a week after he had been home:

I don't think Max has gotten used to you being gone... ha. I think we would both enjoy it if you made more of a regular appearance around here :)

Not knowing exactly how to take the message, you simply sent one back that read, wouldn't you be so lucky? ;)

A week had come and gone since you'd last spoken to him, though the last text message still remained fresh in your mind.

"Oh he is definitely into you, girl." Your girlfriend nodded her head emphatically and drained the rest of her glass of ruby red sangria. "The little gifts, the lowkey home invite..."

You shrugged your shoulders, your alcohol-induced buzz causing everything around you to shift on its axis a little bit. "Yeah but... he's a fucking ten, guys. We're talking tall, multi-talented, bilingual, and did I mention... tall? Like, giant-like?"

Your friend shook her head, her gaze narrow. "Don't do that, girl. Don't diminish who you are, your strengths and all of the wonderful bits about you. If he's a ten, you're a twenty. Own that shit."

You're not sure when the idea occurred to you, but when it did it hit like a lightbulb. Everyone was gathered outside trying to figure out which bar they would patron next, but you had other plans in mind.

"I'm going to head out guys," You announced mildly. "Talk soon!"

You spent the entirety of the uber ride debating whether or not you were going to go through with what you were about to do. At one point you had even considered telling the driver to turn around and then he made the turn onto Alexander's street and it was too late.

You stole yourself at the keypad of his front gate, and then you heard something rustle in the bushes next to you and the decision had been made.

You keyed the pass code into his side door and slipped wordlessly into the back hallway of his home. His dog greeted you immediately; a friendly, moist nose jutted happily into the palm of your hand. "Hi boy," you murmured contentedly and scratched at the soft spot behind his velvet ears. You took a deep breath and continued up the darkened stairway. Alexander's door was open a crack, possibly to let the dog come and go as he pleased. You allowed yourself another deep breath and pulled your pants from your legs, hanging them over the back of a chair. Slowly, you padded your way over to the vacant side of the bed and with a start, you jumped onto the weighted duvet. Alexander immediately shot up from his sleeping position, a look of pure terror etched across his features. "Christ almighty, what the fuck?!" He reached for the cord to the lampshade next to his bed, and pulled it, bathing you in a pale yellow light. "Oh my fucking god kid," he gasped and scrubbed a hand down the length of his face. "I think I just saw the white light..."

"I'm so sorry..." You swallowed hard. "I'm not sure what I was thinking, to be honest."

"What- what are you doing here?"

You shook your head. "I don't know. I wanted to see you."

Alexander sighed heavily and ran a hand through his golden brown hair, letting out a low chuckle as he did so. "Nearly scared the living shit out of me, you did."

"I know- I'm sorry."

Alexander studied you in the low one AM light, his blue orbs glittered with a fire you had become accustomed to. "Well you're here now, you might as well let me kiss you."

You grinned over at him and cocked your head to the side as if to ask, really? Me?

Alexander beamed over at you. "Yeah, ya crazy kid. Get over here."

[reddieao3feed]

peel back my skin (heal my broken ribs)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2U5S6s8

by bytheinco_nstantmoon

Richie just might lose it. Eddie can't have that. -- "something gently soft and sweet/everlasting in my heartbeat/that carries me on tired feet/that spurns me evermore along/distantly dictated to your heart's thrum" -"my love", t.g.l -- "Just say it," Eddie snaps, but there's no bite, and it's as fragile as glass. "If you don't want to be friends anymore, just say it, ok?"

He hates the truth, hates how it reduces him, how it thins his voice and makes his lungs burn.

Words: 5336, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of the wrong shit at the right times

Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, Stranger Things (TV 2016), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, Original Uris Character(s)

Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, The Losers Club & Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris

Additional Tags: everybody except eddie and richie is only part two, st and tgf aren't actually in this installment this is just part of a series, but that aside, Mental Breakdown, Insecure Richie Tozier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, they're in love but they're dumb, Love Confessions, Getting Together, that's part 2, part 1 is just kinda venty i won't lie, i included chapter titles even though there are only two chapters, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, just so you don't get any false expectations, Period-Typical Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Richie Tozier's Internalized Homophobia, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Everyone Is Gay, bill and stan r also gay but they get their own story so its just a tidbit here, Bisexual Eddie Kaspbrak, because bi eddie rights, mlm richie tozier???????????, idk - Freeform, Sexual Tension, like there's no actual sex, but there's like two (2) mentions of it, Pining, Mutual Pining, the difference between honesty and the truth, the title is a reference to a singular line in the story no i don't know why i picked it either, this is so many tags what the fukc, shit wait, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, not like super super there, but its explicitly mentioned, wait again, Ukrainian Richie Tozier, i see i am the first to coin this tag, a lot of this is actually just series stuff thats vaguely ghosted in this but bear with me ok, Jewish Richie Tozier, Jewish Stanley Uris, everyone is an immigrant and im not sorry, canon isn't real anymore, Disabled Character, Deaf Stanley Uris, not deaf but Deaf, for those that know the distinction ig, wearing each other's clothes is Tender, and richie is weak for it, ok is that actually all the tags now???? i think so, Soft Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier is a Mess, bilingual Richie Tozier, actually wait, no its like, Trilingual Richie Tozier, i am making up all sorts of tags!!!!, who let me touch this fandom, im sorry, ok im actually done now, sorry for all the tags, Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), its just post canon idk theyre like 16, fucking hell this is too many tags, the summary is too short for all the tags ASDKIFFNKERG, tgl is me, i also write poetry, In case you were wondering, Author Is Sleep Deprived, author is gay, no beta we die like men, dialogue heavy sorry

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2U5S6s8

[popatochisssp]

Match up!

Ok! I’m a 21 year old gal at 5'3 with brown eyes, caramel hair, and a soft heart. People often describe me as bubbly, sweet, and a “ray of sunshine”. I’m usually the one making lame jokes and goofing around (expect constant giggles), but I know when it’s time to buckle down and get things done! School is incredibly important to me rn and I’m a straight A student. Very serious about my future. Passionate in everything I do and striving to be the best me I can be. Let me finish my work first and then I’ll come out and play! Outside of school or work, I’m either out with friends or spending time with family at home.

Likes: My family/friends (they mean the world to me), creativity, traveling (been to many countries and even lived in Peru for a bit!), learning/experiencing new things, makeup, anything heart-shaped, lace, or floral, drawing, storytelling, music (Mystery Skulls, Studio Killers, Avicii, pop, etc.), wholesome memes, animals, spreading that love and positivity!

Dislikes: Pessimism, being angry (I’ll have an attitude but overall I’m a sensitive bean and I’ll cry when I’m v mad or frustrated), a messy room, seeing others in pain, aggressive people, people who think it’s cool to hate everyone, canceled plans, having to make the first move, feeling pressured into things, not being taken seriously (Just bc I’m happy doesn’t make me dumb), dwelling on the past, staying at home for too long (I can chill at home but eventually I’ll want to go out and do something)

What do you look for in a match?:

I always look for friendship first. Someone I can feel comfortable opening up to and who’s just as silly and open-minded as I am. A sweetheart with their head on straight and isn’t afraid to take control. Ambitious, intelligent, humerus (Ik its overused but I still appreciate). Humor is a big one for me because I love to laugh as much as I love to make others laugh. Also, a huge romantic. I grew up watching telenovelas, so I expect mucho passion y romance from my s/o (i wonder who sent that bilingual ask ohoho). I’m a hopeless romantic myself and I’ll have no problem woo-ing an s/o and receiving a bunch of cliche love gestures as well! I’m a sucker for love notes, flowers, playlists, planned dates/trips, the whole shebang. Reassurance is also a must. Why should the woo-ing stop after we get together? I love being reminded how important and loved I am and I’m happy to do the same! All about mutual respect and encouragement. Remind me to take it easy whenever I try to bite off more than I could chew. I can get very anxious when I feel overwhelmed by certain tasks. Proceed with caution, please! Pushing me or getting in my face would only make it worse. Lastly, someone who can hold a conversation. I don’t mind going on about something but if they don’t say much back, I’ll think I’m just boring them.

Any dealbreakers?: I’ve kissed quite a few frogs so excuse me if I sound too picky! Can’t deal with a Man-child, anger issues, someone too intense, lack of communication, arrogance, unmotivated, someone who doesn’t respect boundaries, won’t listen to me, ignores me, and is condescending or overly critical

Anything else I should know?: I like to think that I’m pretty independent and just fine on my own, but when I have an s/o, I can be clingy. I know that I don’t need them but I want them and I want them to want me too! Despite my lovey dovey attitude, I like to keep it PG in public. I’m pretty mindful of others but more expressive in private.

I also believe that the strongest people are those who didn't let their hardships bitter them, but instead make them want to be a better person. It can be so tough keeping a positive mindset after going through so much but not impossible! I have mad love and respect for those who keep moving forward and show kindness to others despite what they've gone through.

P.S You’re still a peach and thank you for the match ups! I’m sorry this got so long, I just have a lot of love in my heart

As I suspected, I haven’t changed my mind about your match-up from when you submitted the first time so I’m happy to finally tell you that your match is Sky (Underswap Sans)!

Your bright attitude and passionate, responsible nature are things that he deeply respects in you, and he’s excited to show you that he’s a man who can do both, himself! 

He shares your dislike of not being taken seriously and will never think less of you just because you’re cheerful, and dwelling on the past is just not his thing. He likes to keep moving forward, onto what’s next...whatever that may be! If you’re up for the adventure, he’s thrilled to have you along for the ride.

Sky doesn’t mind that you’re a little clingy-- so is he!-- but he’s also self-sufficient enough that he can handle things on his own for awhile if you need a little space when you’re overwhelmed. 

In fact, he’d consider it both his duty and his genuine pleasure as your datemate to help you cope during those times by maybe taking care of a thing or two for you, just to take a few things off your plate!

Honestly, you’d have a fantastic time on a road-trip with him: you make the playlist, he’ll pack the healthy snacks, and you can switch off driving and just go see whatever you want together, even if it’s just the open road and enjoying each other’s company.

If you’re willing to take your friendship with him to the next level, he’s passionate and deeply affectionate so be careful or this dynamo’s gonna charm the pants off you before you even know what hit you! ;3

[jacquclyn-blog]

hi my guys ! name’s honey, i’m 19 and i’m actively doing everything in my power to keep from going back to campus to get my books because that means classes are about to start and...yep, no thanx. anyways, i’ve been eyeing this bad boy and when i saw lizzie the loml got reopened i’d figure hell yeah, let’s do this thing, so here i am and honestly just accept that you’re never getting rid of me. beneath the cut is more on jackie, ofc, so feel free to hmu or just like this and i’ll come to you !! #buyrainbowonitunes

——— woah! wait, was that ELIZABETH OLSEN i just saw walking down mainstreet? no, of course not. that was just JACQUELYN VANCE. they’re TWENTY-SEVEN years old and identify as CISFEMALE. they have been in Alder Heights for TEN YEARS and work as a MAGAZINE EDITOR. i’ve heard they can be OBSTINATE and PEDANTIC on their bad days. but don’t be put off, because JACKIE can also be FERVENT and DISCERNING. no wonder people around here call them the AMARANTH.

born in los angeles, california, jackie grew up very comfortably; both parents are lawyers and during the clinton administration, jackie’s father served as the us ambassador of france. she was nine when they first moved, and was seventeen when her father’s run overseas was finished, and being back home was an interesting transition for her, since she felt like the odd man out considering she’d fallen in love with the french way of life, i guess? she didn’t really want to leave when the time came, but it wasn’t entirely up to her (her least favorite president is w. bush, 3 guesses why lmao) 

instead of going back to la, they moved to alder heights, since her father wanted to continue pursuing a career in government/politics, and it was much closer to dc than la was. her two younger sisters adjusted to life back home a lot easier than jackie did; she wound up completing the last little bit of high school online, since she’d had an accelerated course schedule overseas (she loved school) and would’ve rather been eaten by wolves than go back to public school tbh. she started classes at georgetown uni (rich parents lmao) at seventeen and for awhile, her major was in political science since she had every intention to follow in her father’s footsteps, he was her hero after all

and then somewhere along the line, she realized she didn’t really like political science, she liked having an opinion on and discussing politics, so she moved over into mass communications and her parents weren’t thrilled at all, they totally thought they were going to have a vance legacy and be able to start some family dream team thing and being the oldest, they expected her to be the one to fulfill this, and it definitely started a few fights but they eventually shut up about it just because arguing with her is arguing w a brick wall tbh — they are still slowly coming around, they’re not crazy about it but they still support her, things are Tense, fun times

so she graduated, went on and got her masters, blah blah, fast forward to where jackie finds the job of her dreams at an unnamed, v popular magazine (it’s unnamed bc i want it to be lmao, givE ME TIME but if you need a comparison, think cosmo) and she chased after it hard, like all she wanted to do was be a writer and after spending roughly two years as an assistant, she got promoted to a writer and she loved it, absolutely loved it. got to write about the things she was passionate about, loved the people she worked with, she was living the Dream 

and after a few years of just really, really enjoying her job her higher-ups were like “hey, we’re gonna promote you if you want” and in jackie’s mind she was like, hell yeah, more responsibility, more control, all the things she loves tbh and she took the job as the lifestyle department editor since it was broad and encompassed a lot of the stuff she’d enjoyed writing for and of course, Loved it...to a point

jackie is married to her job, and it’s highkey unhealthy tbh, she’s very very hard on herself and now that she’s moved up in the hierarchy of things she’s beginning to see what they ask of their employees and it’s not always stuff she agrees with? it’s a lot of pressure and she’s beginning to fall out of love with all of it in general, the writing, being responsible for stuff, etc and part of her is like fuck this, i’m over it but at the same time, she’s forcing herself to stick w it because she wants to prove to her parents she can too see their successes in the career path she chose

basically, she’s currently conflicted as hell when it comes to work and is currently a don’t ask, don’t tell type of situation

has begun doing freelance writing on the side?? she doesn’t post or share any of it since most of it is just her rambling and she’s not got that much time to dedicate to it as it is but it’s kinda keeping her sane in the moment and reminding her as to why she loves what she does

her label is the amaranth, one of my faves, which p much means that they’re hard to forget and leave an impression and that’s certainly jackie lmao, she’s got a very strong personality that makes it hard for you to confuse her w anyone else

y’all see the traits up there in that app....that’s Her. she’s the kinda person you want in your corner, not the person you want opposing you bc she will end you and show no mercy

is a sagittarius 

can sometimes let her emotions get the better of her??? she’s stubborn and gets conflicted very easily and that basically just leads to disaster, she’s great at making problems in her life that aren’t a big deal a Big Deal and what she wants, she’ll get it even if she’s got to step on toes or scream really, really loudly for someone to hear her; her parents taught her to never settle and settle she does not

also bilingual, speaks fluent english and french. usually only slips into french when she’s pissed so...beware

connections i’d love to see for jackie (but aren’t limited to, i just know it’ll be a hot second before i get a page up and running!):

best friend  —  self explanatory, obviously, but just give me someone who jackie can sit on the couch and drink wine with in her pajamas, someone who’s got her back if they go out to a bar, her go-to if she’s ever got a company thing and she needs a date last minute, someone who’s gonna butt heads with her when there’s a conflict in either of their lives but they still love one another no matter what *cue true friend by hannah montana in the distance*

sibling like relationship  —  another self explanatory one but jackie’s got a mad mom side to her, she’s v protective of the people she loves so give me someone that might as well be a long lost vance, they do dumb shit together, have each other’s backs, try (and fail) at matchmaking for the other, having a toothbrush with their name on it at their apartment, the works

summer flings!!!!! someone jackie met while she was on vacation or even off on a business thing and they like hooked up and she never in a million years would’ve expected to bump into them back in alder heights......except, she did

tbh just give me a friends-esque group of people for jackie where they all hang out and eat and act like their lives aren’t constantly falling apart, that’d be N*ce too

exesssss!!! the good, the bad, the inescapable, the ones with lingering feelings, the ones that swear they’re over but have a problem every time the other even looks like they’re about to go on a date w someone else, this is free range

college friend   —  basically someone that she met back when she was in college and was the first bit of american companionship that she’d had since she was like, nine?? like i said, she started classes at seventeen, and hadn’t really interacted with anyone since she did online schooling for her senior year; this could’ve been a roommate, someone she had a class with, someone that she met on campus and got coffee with, we can talk this one out obviously but you get the gist!

angst  —  idk what, idk how, i just live for it and i want it thanks

someone who lives near jackie and whether it’s really weird stuff like coming over to ask for some milk to put in their coffee since they’re out and forgot to buy some or they like hang out and have dinner together a few nights a week, switching off and stuff, i think this could be Fun

family friend  —  jackie’s parents are both lawyers and her dad’s been involved in politics for awhile so i can imagine jackie’s gone to her fair share of parties and whatnot, meeting clients and coworkers and all kinds of people so this would ideally be someone she met because their parents were acquaintances/friends; they could’ve met as kids, stayed in touch while jackie was overseas and resumed their friendship years later when the both of them found themselves back in dc, they could’ve met on the more recent end of things, they could totally understand the other’s pain and get along gr8 because someone finally gets it, they could lowkey hate each other bc their parents are rivals/ they’re trying to work through it...the possibilities are endless

and while i’m on the topic of past connections: jackie occasionally had to come back to the us and visit dc while her dad was serving as ambassador (aged 9-17) so if you’re interested, we can totally work something with that

a plot where they’re acquaintances at best, they’ve maybe got mutual friends and therefore they hang out a bit but they’re always arguing w one another for whatever fucking reason, they both probably annoy each other but they’ve got mad sexual tension going on?? maybe they act on it, maybe they don’t, but either way, they lowkey enjoy the bantering and being at one another’s throats even if they act otherwise

[myaltao3feed]

by bytheinco_nstantmoon

Richie just might lose it. Eddie can't have that. -- "something gently soft and sweet/everlasting in my heartbeat/that carries me on tired feet/that spurns me evermore along/distantly dictated to your heart's thrum" -"my love", t.g.l -- "Just say it," Eddie snaps, but there's no bite, and it's as fragile as glass. "If you don't want to be friends anymore, just say it, ok?"

He hates the truth, hates how it reduces him, how it thins his voice and makes his lungs burn.

Words: 5336, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of the wrong shit at the right times

Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, Stranger Things (TV 2016), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, Original Uris Character(s)

Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, The Losers Club & Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris

Additional Tags: everybody except eddie and richie is only part two, st and tgf aren't actually in this installment this is just part of a series, but that aside, Mental Breakdown, Insecure Richie Tozier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, they're in love but they're dumb, Love Confessions, Getting Together, that's part 2, part 1 is just kinda venty i won't lie, i included chapter titles even though there are only two chapters, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, just so you don't get any false expectations, Period-Typical Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Richie Tozier's Internalized Homophobia, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Everyone Is Gay, bill and stan r also gay but they get their own story so its just a tidbit here, Bisexual Eddie Kaspbrak, because bi eddie rights, mlm richie tozier???????????, idk - Freeform, Sexual Tension, like there's no actual sex, but there's like two (2) mentions of it, Pining, Mutual Pining, the difference between honesty and the truth, the title is a reference to a singular line in the story no i don't know why i picked it either, this is so many tags what the fukc, shit wait, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, not like super super there, but its explicitly mentioned, wait again, Ukrainian Richie Tozier, i see i am the first to coin this tag, a lot of this is actually just series stuff thats vaguely ghosted in this but bear with me ok, Jewish Richie Tozier, Jewish Stanley Uris, everyone is an immigrant and im not sorry, canon isn't real anymore, Disabled Character, Deaf Stanley Uris, not deaf but Deaf, for those that know the distinction ig, wearing each other's clothes is Tender, and richie is weak for it, ok is that actually all the tags now???? i think so, Soft Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier is a Mess, bilingual Richie Tozier, actually wait, no its like, Trilingual Richie Tozier, i am making up all sorts of tags!!!!, who let me touch this fandom, im sorry, ok im actually done now, sorry for all the tags, Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), its just post canon idk theyre like 16, fucking hell this is too many tags, the summary is too short for all the tags ASDKIFFNKERG, tgl is me, i also write poetry, In case you were wondering, Author Is Sleep Deprived, author is gay, no beta we die like men, dialogue heavy sorry

[ao3feed-strangerthings]

peel back my skin (heal my broken ribs)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2U5S6s8

by bytheinco_nstantmoon

Richie just might lose it. Eddie can't have that. -- "something gently soft and sweet/everlasting in my heartbeat/that carries me on tired feet/that spurns me evermore along/distantly dictated to your heart's thrum" -"my love", t.g.l -- "Just say it," Eddie snaps, but there's no bite, and it's as fragile as glass. "If you don't want to be friends anymore, just say it, ok?"

He hates the truth, hates how it reduces him, how it thins his voice and makes his lungs burn.

Words: 5336, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of the wrong shit at the right times

Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, Stranger Things (TV 2016), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, Original Uris Character(s)

Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, The Losers Club & Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris

Additional Tags: everybody except eddie and richie is only part two, st and tgf aren't actually in this installment this is just part of a series, but that aside, Mental Breakdown, Insecure Richie Tozier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, they're in love but they're dumb, Love Confessions, Getting Together, that's part 2, part 1 is just kinda venty i won't lie, i included chapter titles even though there are only two chapters, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, just so you don't get any false expectations, Period-Typical Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Richie Tozier's Internalized Homophobia, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Everyone Is Gay, bill and stan r also gay but they get their own story so its just a tidbit here, Bisexual Eddie Kaspbrak, because bi eddie rights, mlm richie tozier???????????, idk - Freeform, Sexual Tension, like there's no actual sex, but there's like two (2) mentions of it, Pining, Mutual Pining, the difference between honesty and the truth, the title is a reference to a singular line in the story no i don't know why i picked it either, this is so many tags what the fukc, shit wait, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, not like super super there, but its explicitly mentioned, wait again, Ukrainian Richie Tozier, i see i am the first to coin this tag, a lot of this is actually just series stuff thats vaguely ghosted in this but bear with me ok, Jewish Richie Tozier, Jewish Stanley Uris, everyone is an immigrant and im not sorry, canon isn't real anymore, Disabled Character, Deaf Stanley Uris, not deaf but Deaf, for those that know the distinction ig, wearing each other's clothes is Tender, and richie is weak for it, ok is that actually all the tags now???? i think so, Soft Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier is a Mess, bilingual Richie Tozier, actually wait, no its like, Trilingual Richie Tozier, i am making up all sorts of tags!!!!, who let me touch this fandom, im sorry, ok im actually done now, sorry for all the tags, Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), its just post canon idk theyre like 16, fucking hell this is too many tags, the summary is too short for all the tags ASDKIFFNKERG, tgl is me, i also write poetry, In case you were wondering, Author Is Sleep Deprived, author is gay, no beta we die like men, dialogue heavy sorry

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2U5S6s8

[listentome-ok]

An Evening with Karla Voss

That evening, we met at six. I had been awake for all of the night before. I had finished my book, started another, watched a film, and then gone to Rich’s flat at seven thirty to watch the sunrise. Those times, I couldn’t tell if he was coming on to me. I glinted in the morning light and watched the birds beat while he talked about his GCSE’s. He showed me a picture of his parents and I secretly found them quite bug-like. Before I left, he took me into his room and presented to me a pack of cards that he kept on his bedside table. They were motivational cards of some ilk, the purpose being to pick out one each morning and follow it’s teaching throughout the day. I picked one out - the picture on the back was a globe. ‘That’s a good one’ said Rich. I turned it over. Try and see things from another perspective. 
 ‘Huh. Cool,’ I said, digging my thumbnail into the side of my index finger to suppress a yawn. 
 ‘These are from the think tank that my dad’s friend started up, over in Leith.’ In the five weeks I’d known Rich, I had heard this story three times. ‘Yes, and you translated them into Spanish for him!’ I realised too late that my interruption could betray my boredom, so attempted to pique my sentence up at its end. 
‘Yes, that’s right,’ he didn’t notice, and carried on to the next well-trodden clause, ‘I was embarrassed because one of the people in the office was already fluent in Spanish! A bilingual! And I was just studying it!’ 
‘It must have been quite difficult to translate such open phrases.’ His card has read look for the centre, not for the edge. He knew all of the cards back and front, and while we flicked through them he pulled out this one and that, cockily reciting their statements before turning them over to see that he was right. I experienced that calm disappointment of noticing that something doesn’t surprise you, though it could, except that you had gotten yourself too tangled to expect any better. My fatigue felt like acid dripping through my legs. Rich slipped his think tank cards back into their box and led me to the door. We hugged. He smelt like my first boyfriend: dirty woollen jumpers. I knew that I would catch his cold. I ran down the three flights of stairs to the door and felt giddy when the cool air hit my skin. The giant basilica beamed its power and clout down at me, and I decided that, in these trying times, it was only right to go to church on a Sunday morning.

I walked slowly, too slowly, and stopped on the way to the cathedral at a cafe. I slouched in my booth and doodled idly on my napkin with my nail. A memory from the year before was nagging me. I rolled my eyes at myself. Really, it was nothing. 
I had been standing in the door of my boyfriend’s kitchen, talking to his flatmate, Josh. Things had often been awkward between us, young people can have such strong emotions. The year before that, I thought we had been close, but I guess you can never know. We nearly all lived together. Mutual friends would tell me Josh liked me. Then I had started dating a closer friend, Michael, who always had more of a suggestion, and Josh stopped talking to me so much. Then his friends stopped being my friends so much, and when I smiled at them in the streets they started to just walk on by. Eventually, Michael clocked on too and whenever Josh was with us he wouldn’t talk to me so animatedly, and eventually he stopped being able to talk to me at all and then to even look me in the eye. I didn’t know or want to admit how much of this was my fault. I didn’t know how I could have prevented it. I often felt as though I was bearing the cross of other people’s social blunders. But, I suppose, in a way, that’s all we do. 
 This day was unlike many others. I had gone into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, and had unwittingly caught Josh alone. This, of course, must be the secret to all social successes. I saw his panic and threw in a spanner. I asked about his weekend. Gradually, I began to feel in control again as I coaxed conversation out of him. I felt as though the atmosphere in the room was like dough that I was warming and shaping in my hands. We talked about physics, the news, the corner shop on their road. He was getting the hoover out of the closet, but he stayed and carried on talking, rather than taking it straight back to his room. Inside, I was elated: I hadn’t lost my touch yet. Then Michael came out of his room to join us. 
 ‘Oh,’ Josh said, lighting up, and dimming my spirits in turn. ‘Are you free on Monday, Michael? Sam and everyone are going to Carlton Bay to do mushrooms, they’re celebrating the end of exams and all.’  The spell was broken. I sunk onto my heels, not realising I had been on tiptoes the entire time. Of course. Of course, he was just talking to me to be polite. Of course, he would never have invited me too. Of course, he didn’t care if I heard, he wouldn’t bother waiting to catch Michael alone to be diplomatic. Of course, he never even clocked that I was there at all. Josh, after all, was selfish and unsocialised. Diplomacy didn’t even occur to him. Why should it bother me? 
Michael shot me a panicked look. He knew I was at the end of my tether. I knew that I was in a tunnel. I was overreacting. I spent an inordinate amount of time wondering why people didn’t like me, and an even more inordinate amount asking Michael why. But they didn’t, and it confused me. All of a sudden, I wasn’t o-k to have around anymore. Michael went out without me, then invited me over to his flat afterwards so that we could fuck while he was drunk. Sometimes, he would ask me to something if he and everybody else was already there, if he had scoped the scene and deemed it inoffensive enough for me to join. He professed I was always working in the evenings, I didn’t get along with anyone, he didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. Social isolation consumed me, and that made me feel so…stupid. I wanted to think about the Yemen crisis and The Pickwick Papers. All I could think about were awkward twenty-year-olds. I was an idiot and I knew it. 
‘Do you want to come with us, Liz?’ 
His voice was laced thick with discomfort. I felt awful. I ducked back into the hallway and watched the two of them standing in the kitchen. I fumbled against the doorframe. Why couldn’t Josh have included me? Or just waited? What was wrong with me? Why did Michael have to speak with such weighted carefulness? What was wrong with me? Why did I scare him so much? When did we all stop being friends? Were we ever friends? 
‘Yeah, sure, I’ll just have to see if I’m free.’ I shifted on my feet. 
 ‘Sam does a lot of drugs’ Josh said to me with a smile. I looked at him, exasperated. I couldn’t believe him. This was the second wave. I knew Sam. I had met Sam multiple times. Besides that, everybody knew how many drugs he did. I had seen him high and low, whiteyed and wasted. I had hundreds of pictures of the two of us on my phone. And I did mushrooms too. I didn’t have to be told about Sam or about drugs. And if Josh thought that I did, then that must mean I really had become a freak in his eyes. And that made me livid. Just because he had stopped talking to me didn’t mean I had ceased to exist. I didn’t need to be coaxed into adult society because everyone had forgotten I was always in it. They had all spoken to me normally once, and what had changed? It is an injustice that your personhood is so often formed of how people view you, especially because people are so fickle. And I stared at this short, spotty, selfish boy, who never went anywhere that was more than a ten minute walk from his flat and who had never had a girlfriend, who openly smiled back, having regained the upper ground, having given me a nugget of valuable wisdom, who Michael visibly valued the opinion of above me, and I just couldn’t believe it. 
 ‘Great’ I said. Then Josh took the hoover into his room, and I took the tea into Michael’s, and we watched a movie and went to bed.

-


Something else struck me in the cafe, another memory that always accompanied the first. I really grimaced then. How was this still bothering me? How had this ever bothered me? Couldn’t life get a little more interesting than this? 
 I had been sitting at Michael’s small dining table with him playing cards, and Josh had been sitting on the sofa scrolling through his phone. 
‘Sam’s sober now. We gave him an intervention,’ he said, glancing up at Michael. 
‘Oh right,’ Michael said, flipping a card, ‘I never thought we’d see the day,’ he scoffed, ‘why’s that then?’ 
‘His girlfriend doesn’t know he does drugs, and when he got his stomach pumped last week it was just too close a call. We all had to keep it a secret. Now, he’s really on the wagon, because she can’t find out.’ 
‘Huh,’ Michael replied, ‘good on him.’ 
I wasn’t included in this conversation. They would feel awkward and embarrassed if I made my presence clear - this was confidential after all - but I was shocked. Everybody knew that Sam had done practically every drug. It was all anybody knew about him. It seemed, until that moment, to be his entire life. It was the only thing I’d ever heard him speak about, and the only thing anybody ever mentioned when they spoke about him. I hadn’t known he had a girlfriend. Where was she coming from? She couldn’t go to uni with us and not know. Had she ever met any of his friends? Didn’t he ever see her after 8PM? 
I wondered if we were in a similar situation. I didn’t know what Michael did away from me. I hadn’t been with him among a group of friends in months. He went out and had the fun that I had used to have without me, because now he didn’t need me there to look at, if he could just fuck me when he got home. Or, more often, he didn’t go out at all, because there was no reason to, if there were so many other cheaper and less taxing ways to spend time with me. And he didn’t need to embarrass himself talking to me in front of Josh if he could just take me into his room. 
But then, I wasn’t like this girl at all. This poor girl. That’s what you always think, poor girl, to know so little about her boyfriend. Sam’s life was hard and he had to have his stomach pumped and he had to hide things from his girlfriend and his friends had to step in to help him out of trouble. I just existed, in a cushy, uninterrupted world. I didn’t matter. Michael and I cooked for each other and watched movies. We stayed out of trouble. I didn’t have any reason to feel so bad. I was picking apart the tiniest details because I was only spoken to a few times a week. I didn’t deserve to feel so hurt because I had a boring and unremarkable life, I didn’t have anybody around because I didn’t deserve to, and I had no idea of how hard life really was for the people who actually lived. 
But then, a counter thought, Josh and Michael’s friends weren’t any more important than me, no matter how hard they tried to be. Almost nobody knew that me and Michael were dating. In our early months, it made him sick with dread to think of telling Josh. Almost a year later, when asked, he said he didn’t have a girlfriend, later still said he had never even been on a date. Maybe this was why everybody stopped talking to me. Maybe people did know, and as soon as I became someone’s girlfriend I stopped being everyone else’s friend. Maybe people could sense Michael’s discomfort and decided to save him the embarrassment of having to be with me in public. Or maybe they had never seen me as a friend at all. Maybe I had been kidding myself the whole time, I had just scraped the surface, I was just a passing acquaintance. I wondered if Michael had ever had his stomach pumped. I wondered if any of them would ever get married.

-

And then there was that party that took place on the Monday when Sam was supposed to be doing mushrooms, two days before Michael and I left on a holiday together. Why were we going on holiday together? Wouldn’t he prefer to just stay here with Josh? 
 Josh and Michael threw the party to celebrate the end of exams. Josh invited friends from his course and Michael invited friends from home, who promptly hopped on a cross-country train to come over and live it up. I texted Michael about an hour after it started, asking what his plans were for the evening, and then I found out about it, and then I was awkwardly, almost painfully awkwardly, invited to join in too. 
 Of course, we all know boys who don’t invite their girlfriends to their parties. Sam was one of them and I suppose Michael was another. What chauvinists, we all think, to think that you can’t be friends with your girlfriend. To think that they’re incapable of talking to your friends. To never understand or appreciate their charm and wit, to never even give them a chance to show you. Michael had some flimsy reason or another for not asking me when he asked everyone else - maybe he was worried I wouldn't get along with anyone, maybe he didn’t realise it would be such a big deal, maybe he was just about to invite me when I texted him - it kept changing. But still I went, and I entertained his travelling friends, and endured Christine’s insensitive rant about homelessness, and stood in line for a club with them all and smiled. And Michael didn’t talk to me until he got drunk and pissed on a bollard and started to worry about the criminality of it all. And Sarah, who I had held the hair of when she threw up in a bathroom sink less than a year before, asked my name. And Josh acted indifferent when a girl spotted him and started to shout at him about never texting her flatmate back. And I knew, I knew that these people were a waste of time, but because they had decided that I was a waste of time first, I was obsessed with them.

-

I pushed the thought to the back of my mind. I was angry with myself to still be troubled by it all, to have ever been troubled by it at all, to have spent so much time with him. I got up, and went to church. 
I watched the priest hold the holy book high above his head as everyone chanted in a language that I did not understand. There was a man standing behind his elderly mother’s pew, holding her steady by her elbow every time we stood for prayer. There was a man with a cardboard box, who gingerly ducked out when his phone rang. There was also a woman cooing to her crying baby daughter, dipping her up and down in her arms. I felt envy and pity towards them all. I wanted so badly to be a part of something, but it is still so painful no matter what you do. My throat hurt and then I noticed I was crying, and I thought how ironic, that these people would now pity me, and that I would never look at myself with that same air of sympathy. I left the church. It wasn’t yet noon, and we were meeting at six.

-



Of course, I was deeply angry with Karla. We moved here at the same time and became pretty close. We saw each other a couple of times a week, we’d go to parties, watch movies, go to the beach, or just chat. It was nice. But then one day we just stopped talking. And, being that I had organised the last evening we saw each other, I felt that I had done something to aggravate her. And that made me angry. I had thought we were closer than that. 
I walked to a bar and ordered a beer, pulled out my sketchpad and began to write some notes. I wanted to talk to her about what had happened. I wanted to ask her what was wrong with me. She would be moving away in a few months, and we didn’t really have any mutual friends, so I felt I had nothing to lose. I listed everything that had happened. The time we had both kissed the same guy at a club. The time she had left as soon as the movie was over, instead of staying to Discuss. The time, a few weeks before, when I had texted her, breaking our silence, and she hadn’t replied. The time I had wanted to leave a party she had invited me to too early. 
I felt so entirely forgettable, and I couldn’t understand why everyone always dropped me. I looked at the reflective window of the bar I was in. My face was so distinct, my temperament so measured, I made sure to be so well-read, I had honed anecdotes, I listened to what people had to say and I coaxed them with questions, I tried always to act in kindness, and I couldn’t understand why I had never made the cut. Not for anybody. Not even here. I had to get an honest answer out of somebody. 
 Finally, we met, outside of the same cathedral. She was a little bit late. I jumped to the worst and expected a stand-up. When I saw her in the crowd, I wondered if I should pretend I hadn’t, wait for her to come to me, act a little nonchalant for once, but I didn’t. We met, we hugged, we bulged our eyes at how long it had been. It felt incredibly awkward. 
 We walked around the Christmas market that we had intended to meet at, alternating between not talking at all in the crowds and small-talking about what we had been up to. She hadn’t been doing much, she had changed her medication, which had affected her hormones, so she had been quite bedridden. I couldn’t remember anything remarkable about what I had been doing that I could tell her. I cursed myself for not having spoken up, but she sensed my tension. 
‘Wait…are you mad?’ she asked, pausing us as we were on our third lap of the market.
 ‘Kind of, yeah.’ I replied, emphasising, thinking, wasn’t it obvious that I was and that I clearly should be? 
We went to get a drink and talk about it. The bar we entered was large and full of mirrors, with a sweet British bartender in a pinafore dress. Karla ordered a water, stating she was on a cleanse, so I got a Coke. 
I had trouble finding my words. I wished I could be more articulate. I tried to remember the notes I had written. 
 ‘I just don’t understand,’ I finally sighed out, ‘why we stopped talking.’ 
‘Yeah,’ Karla was calm, ‘me either. But I’m not mad about it. I didn’t think it was something you had done - I didn’t make the decision not to talk to you, I thought we just kind of drifted apart.’ 
‘Does that happen with you a lot? That you and your friends ‘drift apart’ so suddenly?’ Karla paused, taken aback, so I carried on, ‘because honestly, it happens to me a lot. People stop talking to me all the time. I don’t know why. I try everything. I wonder if I’m not fun enough, not funny enough, not pretty enough, not nice enough, or what? People just stop talking to me every singe time and I have no idea what it is that I’m doing wrong.’ 
Karla tilted her head up slowly, leaning back in her armchair seat, with her arms resting on either side. ‘I didn’t expect you to be this angry. I’ve never had anyone confront me like this before… and I think you’re being a little hard on yourself.’ 
‘Well sometimes I think people are quite hard. Like, what happened with us? I thought we were closer friends than that, we hung out a lot, I thought we had passed through the awkward stages of not wanting to say anything. Why did you act like you were mad at me?’ I paused when she stared at me, ‘I know you must think it’s childish that I’m so annoyed by this, but I am. This kind of thing has happened so many times, normally I wouldn’t say anything but now I really don’t care.’ I didn’t look into her eyes, but kept my gaze fixed on the fairy lights next to her. ‘With timing, with Christmas around the corner and then long breaks and then you moving away, we probably won’t see each other again. So I thought, neither of us has anything to lose.’ 
 ‘No, I’m glad you’re saying this,’ she said, though I wasn’t sure. It was certainly awkward, but I was glad about it too. It was like we were each talking to close friends about the encounter, laying our cards on the table, not bitching, but each telling our side of the story and inviting the other to share their opinion. It seemed mature. ‘But I thought you were mad at ME! That’s why I wasn’t talking!’ 
I let out a slow, punctured breath, searching the room. I saw my reflection in one of the mirrors above the bar. I had tied my hair, which I had recently bleached blonde, into space buns. I looked at my long legs in 40 denier tights and a new denim skirt, folded in a prim lean towards Karla. I thought that with my clothes and my posture and my hair choice and my dower expression I looked just like a little rich girl. My eyes swivelled back to Karla. ‘For realsies? How could I be mad at you? I didn’t even have the opportunity!’
 ‘I thought you were angry when I left the movie early. So I gave you some time alone and then I thought it was fine but I didn’t hear from you for a few more weeks, and I thought that we officially weren’t talking anymore after that’ she stated. 
 Often in the evening we slipped into silences, where we couldn’t quite bring ourselves out of the discussion, but couldn’t quite put ourselves in to the awkward nature of it either. She was confusing me, and I knew that I was confusing her too. Though we didn’t really reach a conclusion, eventually enough time passed in comfort for us to return to other topics of conversation. It felt too awkward to carry on, when neither of us wanted to hurt the other. We began to talk about what we had been reading, where we had been eating, where we had been dancing. We chatted about Christmas plans and our families and our opinions on politics and school. Somehow, impossible to explain, it just got easier, and we left as friends. 


-


 On my walk home I thought about Michael and Josh. Big surprise. I thought that maybe if I had just asked what the fuck was bothering them so much, they would have balked and returned to normal. But still, whenever I thought of them, I was reminded of how little I must have meant to them, how little that allowed me to mean to myself. And when I remembered how rude they were, how little they tried to include people or make people comfortable, I felt so angry with them. But the problem was that they weren’t actually that rude. Just rude enough to make me aware that they didn’t consider me a friend. I thought about how I was so different now to how I had been before I’d met them: so empty, so full of self-doubt, so caged in the past. And it didn’t even matter. Neither of them would ever remember any of those conversations. I was overreacting, I was an idiot, devoid of any social life. But, at least I didn’t feel bad about Karla anymore. At least the two of us were friends. Our opinions of each other were equal. I thought, I thought, so many things that I couldn't put my finger on.

-

The next morning, I got a text from Karla, Hey :) On Thursday there’s an Indie Folk concert at ‘La Rogue Bar’, I found it on Couchsurfing, do you feel like going? 
I Immediately replied with Yes!!!! :D :D :D. At least this one was salvageable. 

[lareinedumondejeb]

I rode my horse Pancanal throughout the countryside outside of Managua, Nicaragua, land of fuming volcanoes.

When I asked for advice on writing my cover letter for tenure-track job applications, I was told to address what I had done in the 16 years between receiving my Bachelor’s degree and going back to school for a Master’s in psychology. My draft letter had not done so… it was pointed out that departments want to know something about me beyond my academic records (papers published, courses taught). It was kindly not pointed out that 16 unexplained years could have been spent in prison, in a hippie commune, in a mental institution… insert anything an active imagination can come up with.

Much of my time in Spain was spent on a horse. Even when I was working as a full-time teacher, I would get up at 4:30 am on Saturday to ride out once a week. (Hipodromo de la Zarzuela, Madrid)

Unless they did some serious stalking, an admissions committee probably would not come up with the truth, so even though that paragraph about what happened in the interim felt weird, I have included it, in some form, in all my letters. It pretty much states what happened: I lived abroad for 16 years, most of them in Spain, but also in Mexico, Panama, and Nicaragua. I trained and rode race horses. I worked for an equine magazine. I taught at a bilingual British/Spanish school.

My first class, Preparatory (aka kindergarten) at St. Michael’s School (2005)

That doesn’t really mean anything… oh a reader could guess that I may know something about horses, children, and Spanish, but how much, and what that knowledge looks like, is not revealed. More importantly, much of who I am that resulted from that time abroad is only tangentially related, if at all, to these broad descriptions.

For example, my love of lieder began when I tried to play music for my horses at the track in Madrid (I was an amateur owner). The little radio I had would only play a classical station without static. Of course, I was already familiar with classical music; my parents had plenty, my grandfather loved it (I still remember his music collection), and I had played in an excellent high school band that performed, among other things, lots of Tchaikovsky, including the 1812 Overture, Wagner, Dvorak, etc. And I had already developed a certain fascination with Requiems. But I knew nothing of lieder.

At the track, I only listened. I didn’t understand the German, and my budget did not extend to purchasing CDs with lyrics in German and English. That would come later, when I had more money, and when I ran into Schubert’s Erlkönig–one of my favorites encountered on classical radio–writ into the story of Richard Power’s Time of Our Singing.  I had read Power’s Goldbug Variations years before (thanks to a wonderful used book store in Madrid); it’s full of Bach, and led to my enduring addiction to the his Goldberg Variations.  The Time of Our Singing happened to me much later, when I was already the mother of two small children; it revived my love of lieder and led to a huge collection of CDs.

You can go from the backstretch of a racetrack to Hugo Wolf.

I had gone to Spain with plans to stay a year and then return to the States. I wanted to do premed. I was not very forthright about this to the people in Spain. I arrived, and refused to make long-term commitments. But I ended up staying. You see, riding and training racehorses is fun. It’s challenging, physically and mentally, especially at first. During the first year, I was so exhausted (muscles work a lot harder when you are a novice) I had no time to be bored. I watched and learned. I rode with many trainers. I ended up with  my own horses, my own stable, and took the starting gate test to get my amateur jockey license and the trainers’ exam to get my amateur training license. I followed vets and farriers around. I learned to perform lameness checks and identify many unsoundnesses from the saddle and from the ground, I learned to draw blood, run a line, how long it takes to drip one liter, or five.  I learned to count time, and calculate whether I was going to gallop a two minute mile, or make it in 1:40. To make a few extra pesetas, I translated, magazine articles, documents such as training contracts. I made some sad attempts at writing novels. I listened to classical radio.

I read many books. And since Spanish libraries were poor, and most books were expensive, I read primarily classics. I read many of them twice. I’ve probably read every Penguin classic ever published (unless there are some that don’t get sold in Spain and except for Tom Jones. I just couldn’t finish Tom Jones.) Wordsworth classics were a bit less cheap, so I’ve probably only read 3/4 of the ones that don’t overlap with Penquin.

I’ve still got most of the classics I bought and read during my years at the racetrack (1993-1997).

Of course, I also read a lot of Spanish novels, because I could borrow them. And I have always had a language rule: If it was written in Spanish, I only read it in Spanish; if it was written in English, I only read it in English. If it was written in Portuguese, French or Italian, I prefer to read it in Spanish (that includes Kundera, who wrote in French). If it was written in German or Russian, I prefer to read it in English. Tolstoy added a lot of French in, so, just to be safe, I’ve read Anna Karenina and War and Peace** in both English and Spanish. I prefer Anna Karenina in Spanish, but War and Peace in English (with the French in French), but of course there are so many translations, that may matter more than the language per se.  There are a lot of authors I’ve only read in Spanish; clearly all those who wrote in Spanish (except Garcia Marquez, since my grandparents gave me One Hundred Years of Solitude when I in my early teens), but also Proust, Houellebecq, Anais Nin, Saramago, Stendhal…

**to give credit where it is due, I had already read War and Peace (and The Magic Mountain, Narcissus and Goldmund, The Woman in White, Women in Love, and many more) at my mother’s urging, years before. My grandparents had fed me a constant drip of classics from the time I could read. I did not arrive at this point having read only Anne McCaffrey, Ursula K. le Guin, Georgette Heyer, Agatha Christie, David Eddings, and the like; but I mainly read genre fiction, particularly science fiction and fantasy.

I was an accidental scholar, those years at the racetrack, because for the most part, I could only afford classics.  I read at least one book a week. Add in the fact that almost all my speaking was done in Spanish, whereas about 2/3 of my reading was done in English… I listened to classical music that was for the most part instrumental or, if vocal, in German or Latin and occasionally French or Italian; except the tangos. I listened to a lot of tangos.

This is probably not an unusual account for an American expat on a shoestring budget. One of the great things about just leaving your home country and forging your way, where no one knows much at all about you, except that you’re a Yankee, and probably stark raving mad, is that you start out with a blank slate. You learn about people from the ground up (especially at a racetrack). I had graduated from Georgetown University. It took two and a half years before the horse-owning, propertied side of my racetrack acquaintances realized I’d even gone to college (sooner or later it becomes impossible to avoid a direct question).

My first ride on Kamsia at the Hipodromo de las Americas, which was exactly two miles from our flat in Polanco (Mexico DF). I took a taxi there and jogged back every morning.

Eventually, and inevitably, I left the full-time racetrack life (although I continued to gallop whenever I could). I moved to Mexico City with my then husband; there I renewed my flute playing, watched every single film that came out in the 18 months we were there (there were seven theatres within walking distance of our flat in Polanco), visited every gallery and museum and exhibition… during this time, my friend Amy got married, and when I saw our mutual friend Stephanie there, she asked how my writing was going. Wow. For the last several years, I had forgotten to do more than keep detailed records of horse exercise and feed regimes, and my own intake of wine, films, and books.

lienzo charro de la villa

Above: a charreada in Mexico, DF.

I started writing again. I read a lot more books, because I had more money. I began to collect CDs.

In 1999 we moved to Panama and lived there for over three years. Both my sons were born there. Compared to Mexico City, there was little to do… but I made good friends and became a member of the best book club. Instead of reading the same book every month, we had a huge collection, and we read what we wanted. The rule was, you had to read at least one book each meeting, but I usually read 3-4. That was when I became very conversant with contemporary literary fiction. I’d read books I never would have considered had I not heard other members describe them in flattering–or better yet, controversial–terms.

In Panama I began to think about going back to university. I took a class at Universidad Católica Santa María La Antigua with the name of Bioethics, which I thought would mean medicine, but it really meant the environment.. The professor was Dutch. The class was in Spanish. My term paper was on Radical Ecology. I really had no idea of what radical ecology meant before that class.

I began writing novels in Panama, and I continued to do so when we moved to Nicaragua in 2002. In fact, writing was pretty much all I did in Nicaragua, other than being a mother, riding my horse, and having an expat social life. I met Enrique Bolaños, then the President of Nicaragua, but I didn’t recognize him. We had a conversation, and I walked away, and then I was told who he was and that I was an idiot (hahaha). To be fair, I am pretty sure that whoever introduced us mumbled his name 😉

I still read–but primarily nonfiction. For some reason, I do not like to read fiction when I am writing the first draft of a novel. I wrote three novels during the 15 months we were in Managua. And I had Readerville, the best online writer and reader site that ever lived and died.

In 2003, we returned to Spain, originally planning to stay about six months before moving to Bahrain. Ended up getting a divorce and staying in Spain, where I obtained a CELTA certificate, and then was hired by St. Michael’s school, where I taught 4-6 year olds for 1.5 years, and then secondary and baccalaureate for three years.

Directing a bilingual production of Evita was one of the most challenging and entertaining things I did at St. Michaels’.

Teaching at St Michael’s was fun, especially once I was moved to the older kids and given the top level students for English. My first class of second year baccalaureate students (aka seniors) was tiny but wonderful. Later classes were also great; challenging, but rewarding. Many of my students have become friends and are still in touch; I made great friends on the staff. I helped direct three musicals; I was one of three teachers who took the entire (junior year level) class to Italy.

I preferred older kids, but one of my favorite classes was a group of (secondary) first-years (equivalent to 7th grade).

I also continued writing books the entire time I was teaching. Most years, I completed nanowrimo. I read up on how to sell books (get an agent), and attempted to get an agent. I sent around 10 queries, and got discouraged. Since then, I have occasionally sent a flurry of queries. The only positive result was the response from Trafalgar Square Books, and they told me that although they loved my manuscript, it wasn’t the right thing for a newbie writer, and would I like to write another book, about myself or someone else. That’s where the Cowboy Dressage book came from, thanks to an old friendship with the Beth-Halachmys. And that wasn’t until I was in grad school.

St. Michael’s was a fantastic place to work. This was a staff party, but we also had wine for brunch when it was someone’s birthday. In Spain, the birthday person treats everyone else (to drinks, at a bar, or to breakfast, at work)

By the time I was working at St. Michael’s, I had determined to come back to the States to go to grad school… I thought probably philosophy, since that had been my hobby and passion since my senior year in high school. When my youngest finished first grade (by which time he could read and write in Spanish as well as English), we moved back to California. It was hard to go… I had a permanent contract at the school, and many good friends. But, I was bored, intellectually. I felt like I lacked mental discipline. I had things to say in philosophy, and I did not know how to say them (in a way that would result in a publication). So we moved to Arcata, CA., and I ended up doing psychology, which is not as good for discussion as philosophy is, but you can do empirical research, and statistics. I love designing studies and analyzing data (collecting it, not so much, but that’s a necessary step).

And now I am about to finish my PhD in psychology, with more experience than most, precisely because there is a hole in my cv.  I have acquired, accidentally, it seems, refined tastes in music, or so they say, including a giant CD collection. I have read more than is probably good for me, and think of everything in the context of fiction. Curiously enough, I have ended up studying fiction quite fortuitously; I set out to study moral cognition (narrative moral agency in particular), and stumbled upon my advisor’s short description on the OU psych department page: it had morality and fiction in the same tiny paragraph, and I thought, hmm, that sounds interesting.

Many many times I have wanted to say (and I have sometimes said it) that fiction has expressed a concept far better, many times. That Tolstoy and Trollope and DH Lawrence could tell you more about what motivates human behavior than any textbook or research article. That awe can be found listening to Brahms Requiem.  That teaching preschool is an excellent way to learn developmental psychology. That racing horses shows you that time perception is relative. That language shapes thought, just try doing philosophy in another language (so yeah, I’ve got an answer to that question).

Sometimes I am astounded by the ignorance of educated–if by this we mean, PhD–people when it comes to literature, history, and music. Of course, they have spent their time in other ways. But this ignorance is often combined with a disdain for the popular–genre fiction, music–and distrust of the rural–horses, ranches, racetracks. And that’s interesting indeed.

Sometimes there is a lot going on in a gap decade and a half.

coda:

It’s been over eight years since we returned to the states. I have not yet reached the point where I will have lived half of my adult life in the USA. Arcata was wonderful (I could see the Pacific from my back porch and had redwoods in my yard), and Norman has been a good place to live, but I really miss living abroad. I miss capital cities. I miss diversity of language, skin, culture, thought. I miss culture, public transport, and the smell of an underground train in steam coming up through a grate on a cold day. It’s been great this semester, hanging out with others at the Institute for the Study of Human Flourishing, not least because we are a diversity of discipline, thought, language, and culture (but mainly because we talk philosophy).

I had a phone interview (that didn’t progress to more) with St. John’s University (Queens). The main question seemed to be, could I live in NYC? And my hesitation about the position was undoubtedly evident, but it wasn’t because I couldn’t live in the city (besides, both Belmont and Aqueduct are within 6 miles of the university). Oh there are downsides (where could I keep a horse?) but… oh the culture! When I was in Boston last May, I wanted to wallow in it, in trains and sidewalks and people and the anonymity of the city. I can adapt anywhere, but there is more in a city.

For many reasons, I would like to stay in the States, but I do miss life as an expat, and ever since last November, I have been contemplating the possibility of relocating. Perhaps not permanently, not yet, but at least for a few years.

In my fairy tale life, I would live in a horse ranch, in the country, but close enough to a major university to be on the faculty–conduct research with a light teaching load.  AND I would have enough  money to fly to Paris, Madrid, Vienna, Mexico City, anywhere I wished, whenever I had the time. But that’s an unlikely scenario. Right now, I’d settle for a nice post doc someplace outside of the Bible Belt.

such is life, per Goethe and Schubert:

but also, perhaps:

That gap in my cv When I asked for advice on writing my cover letter for tenure-track job applications, I was told to address what I had done in the 16 years between receiving my Bachelor's degree and going back to school for a Master's in psychology.

[sandiegodjstaci]

Carolyn & Jonathan’s Stunning Encuentro Guadalupe Wedding in Ensenada

Carolyn & Jonathan’s Stunning Encuentro Guadalupe Wedding in Ensenada

Of the handful of bilingual San Diego DJs that handle Mexico destination weddings, Carolyn and Jonathan chose me to DJ and MC their Encuentro Guadalupe wedding in Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico, on Saturday, October 28, 2017.

  (c) San Diego DJ Staci

  (c) Kennedy Fotografia

  THE LOVE STORY

Carolyn & Jon met in the summer of 2004 when their mutual friends were dating. It was quite appropriate that we celebrated the their marriage in Mexico as it was a late night on the dance floor in Tijuana when they first said ‘I love you.’ Together they enjoy escaping to different places like Mexico, Yosemite, or Catalina Island.

  (c) San Diego DJ Staci

  In fact, in July of 2015, while snorkeling on Catalina Island, Jonathan had Carolyn’s friends work with him to make it seem like he’d discovered a ring inside a shell buried on the ocean floor. He showed it to Carolyn, who said, “Oh cool, a ring!” So he awkwardly said, “Umm…honey this is for you” (she wasn’t really getting it). Finally, Carolyn realized what was happening. At that point, they swam to shore so Jonathan could officially get down on one knee and propose.

  (c) Kennedy Fotografia

  (c) San Diego DJ Staci

  THE ENCUENTRO GUADALUPE WEDDING RECEPTION

After a local trio played for the outdoor Ceremony & Cocktail Hour, I took over up inside.  Carolyn & Jon were introduced to Bruno Mars’ “Marry You.” They went straight into their First Dance to Ray Lamontagne’s “You Are The Best Thing.” After an amazing four-course meal consisting of beet salad with feta cheese, grapefruit, and arugula, then canneloni with lamb, spinach, and ricotta cheese, then pork with onions and hot sauce. And finally, the dessert course was flan with coconut and almonds. We played the Shoe Game, then there were four brief toasts.

  (c) Kennedy Fotografia

  Jon then danced with his mom to Lionel Richie’s “Hello,” the song playing when Jon was born & said his first ‘hello’ to his mom. Carolyn danced with her dad to James Taylor’s “How Sweet It Is.” We took a group photo on dance floor then kicked off dancing with JT’s “Can’t Stop The Feeling.”

  (c) Kennedy Fotografia

  THE PLAYLIST

For the dinner music playlist at this Encuentro Guadalupe wedding in Ensenada, the bride and groom requested:

Pretty Girl – Hayley Kiyoko

Want You Back – HAIM

The Less I Know The Better – Tame Impala

Fast Lane – Rationale

Rose Quartz – Toro y Moi

Tech Noir – Gunship

3 Libras – A Perfect Circle

Girl And The Sea – The Presets

Gone, Gone, Gone – Phillip Phillips

Moondance – Van Morrison

Feel It All Around – Washed Out

The Chain – Fleetwood Mac

Kiss From A Rose – Seal

Home – Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros

Crazy Love (Live Version) – Ray Charles

Oye Como Va – Santana

The Way You Look Tonight – Frank Sinatra

Days Like This – Van Morrison

Day Dream – Edward Sharpe

Burn Rubber On Me – The Gap Band

Cardiac Arrest – Bad Suns

Stop Me – Mark Ronson

Lonely Roller – Steven A. Clark

Days Like This – Van Morrison

If I Could Change Your Mind – HAIM

I Lived – One Republic

Send My Love (To Your New Lover) – Adele

Steve McQueen – M83

Heads Will Roll – Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Sweet Thing – Van Morrison

Somebody Else – The 1975

Walking On A Dream – Empire of the Sun

Girls Dem Sugar – Feat. Mya – Beenie Man

Smooth – Santana

  (c) Kennedy Fotografia

  (c) Kennedy Fotografia

For dancing, Carolyn & Jonathan requested mostly Top 40 and 80s with some 60s/70s Old School. Their “must play” list consisted of:

Work It – Missy Elliott

The Way You Make Me Feel – Michael Jackson

Cake By The Ocean – DNCE

Cheap Thrills – Sia

You Dropped A Bomb On Me – The Gap Band

Lovesong – The Cure

Let’s Stay Together – Al Green

Shut Up and Dance – WALK THE MOON

Ignition (Remix) – R. Kelly

September – Earth, Wind & Fire

“So Into You” – Tamia

Wobble line dance

Closer than This – St. Lucia (last dance)

  (c) Kennedy Fotografia

  (c) San Diego DJ Staci

Again, I was honored to be the one and only San Diego destination wedding DJ Carolyn and Jonathan trusted with their Encuentro Guadalupe wedding in Ensenada. Thank you! See more at #BodaDeBarrett.

  (c) San Diego DJ Staci

(c) San Diego DJ Staci

MEXICO DESTINATION WEDDING VENDOR LIST

Here is the amazing team of San Diego wedding vendors I had the pleasure of working with on this Encuentro Guadalupe wedding:

Venue/Catering  ➔  Encuentro Guadalupe (Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico)

DJ  ➔  Staci Nichols

Photographer ➔ Eduardo Kennedy from Kennedy Fotografia

Cake Bakery  ➔ Wonder Cakes by Yasmin

Florist  ➔ La Libelula Floreria

    (c) San Diego DJ Staci

  (c) Kennedy Fotografia

          Like DJ Staci's vibe? Get instant access to her San Diego wedding DJ packages here.

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