#can i quit my job and work on a ph.d. yet please

[bookcurses-resources]

I have two primary modes of communication:

Californian verbal shitposting

Hyper-academic autistic speak

Neither of these are appropriate for 90% of my job duties, all of which involve communicating with other people. 💀

[couldntbedamned]

Til the Veins Start to Shiver

Bruce Banner/Reader

Summary:  You decide to tease Bruce with some provocative photos while he's working.  Bruce decides to tease you right back, and then some.

Warnings/AO3 Tags:  Teasing, swearing, derogatory language, dirty talk, Bruce Banner has a filthy mouth, dom/sub undertones, orgasm delay/denial, oral sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, overstimulation, size kink, aftercare

Author’s Note: Written for the fabulous and talented @boop-le-snoot. Inspired by this post here on Tumblr.

Til the Veins Start to Shiver

- - - - 

Bruce was about to lose it. He’d told you not to send him such provocative pictures while he was trying to work.

But you didn’t like to listen. You wanted him to lose it, wanted him to wake up and realize that as delicate looking as you could appear, you weren't breakable.

He wrapped up his work as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself and then stalked towards his floor. His sound-proofed, Hulk-proofed floor.

You were waiting for him, of course.  Smiling as if butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth.  Smiling as if you’d won.

“Was it fun, baby, teasing me like that?”

You giggled. “Yes.”

“I hope it was. Because I like to tease, too. And I’m much, much better at it.” He pulled off his glasses and set them down on the dresser, began to unbutton his shirt.

“Get on the bed.”

“But what about my clothes?” Soft, pretty, lacy things.

“Do you really think I’ll let something like clothes get in my way? I thought you were smarter than that, baby.”

“It’s been a couple of hours, baby. How do you like teasing now?” Bruce asked. His face was wet from your pussy that he’d been eating off and on, forcing you up, up, and up but never letting you crash over. His fingers, also wet, drew messy little shapes all over your thighs and stomach.

“What’s the matter baby? Are you cock-dumb already? I haven’t even split you open on my cock yet.”

“P-please.”

You’d lost count of how many times he denied you, only knew that you needed to come more than you needed your next breath.

“But you like teasing,” Bruce chided, mock hurt all over his face.

“I guess there’s nothing else left then,” he finally said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You grab his arm before he can pull away, a feat of speed you had no idea how you managed. “Ple-ease, B-bruce. Fuck m-me.”

“Oh, you want me to fill that needy little cunt of yours?  Want me to split you open and fuck you like a dumb little doll I can toss and throw around?”

You nodded, desperate. “Y-yeah. Use me.”

“Sweet, dumb little baby, thinking you can tease me like that, that you’ll win. But you know better now, don’t you? Sir is so much smarter than you.”

Bruce pulled you onto him, held you over his monstrously thick cockhead, tinged with green and so much bigger than he’d previously fucked you with.

“You wanted this,” he cooed in your ear before he forced the head inside of your soaking cunt.

It was a stretch. Holy fuck, even with the hours of finger-fucking and oral sex it was a stretch and so, so much. But he didn’t stop, used his strength to pull you down onto him and your thighs trembled and your cunt pulsed and you didn’t know how you were going to survive it.

“I’m almost halfway in,” he told you, raising you up just a bit before forcing you down until you could feel him hitting your cervix… maybe even feel him in your throat. The hair around the root of his cock and balls would have probably tickled if you could have felt anything other than every single pulsing veined inch of him inside you.

“Pretty baby, full of my cock just like a dumb little girl like you should be.” He didn’t thrust but with every slight movement, fire raced through you. It was too much it was too much it was too much!

“And what do you say to Sir, when he’s filled your pretty little cunt with his big cock?”

You whimpered, tears falling.

He jerked his hips up and your cervix shifted and you cried out.

“Well?”

“T-th-ank y-you S-ir.”

“If you can still form words, I’m not doing my job.”

He started to properly fuck you, pulling you up and down, pausing a few times to add some lube in an act of mercy you didn’t think you’d get. The lube helped to a point, but a cock half-way between Bruce and the Hulk was not meant to be taken by mortal cunts like yours.

The battering of your cervix started to… not quite change from pain, but kind of meld with a deep sort of buzzing that signaled an orgasm you didn’t think you could walk away from.

“Baby girl, finally being so good for me, letting me use her just like she needs. Just let go, baby. You’re too pretty to think, just empty that head and I’ll empty into you.”

His fingers started playing with your clit while he used you like a fleshlight and when your orgasm tore through you with a violence you had never felt before, you felt yourself soak his cock and then collapsed bonelessly against him.

He continued to work in and out of you, his cock leaving no micrometer of your cunt unclaimed.

When he finally came, it was with a loud groan-bordering on-roar. The spill of his release was hot in your womb. There was so much and it squelched out with every thrust as he continued to milk his orgasm with your cunt.

“Look at my pretty baby,” he said adoringly as he lifted you off his softening monster of a cock and laid you back on the bed where you laid useless and splayed-legged.

Bruce kissed you, stroked his hands all over you lovingly as if checking to see that you were still there with him.

He didn’t move to clean you up, but you were too tired, too… cock dumb to care. Instead, he slipped something up your hips, around your ass. Then something slid inside you and settled in place. Something else pressed against your clit.

“I hope you enjoyed that orgasm, baby. Because I’m not done teasing you, yet.”

Vibrations started, sent fireworks across your clit, and you realized he’d locked a vibrator in place with the belt he’d pulled onto you. The shaft inside of you began to vibrate, too.

“There’s my pretty, cock-dumb baby. You look so pretty when you come for me, especially when you’re needy and crying.”

He settled back to take in the sight of you. He stroked his soft cock, idly.

"It’s always so fun to see how you plan to keep me from working too hard, baby. I have to admit, this is more satisfying than the equations I was working on. I might just have to keep this up all night."

With a sobbing moan, you came, and feeling no retreat from the vibrators, sobbed some more.

“My pretty baby has some smart ideas sometimes,” Bruce said fondly. “Not as smart as mine, but I love her anyways.”

- - - - -

Much later, as you fought sleep while lying next to Bruce, wearing your coziest pjs and wrapped in your favorite fluffy blanket, after Bruce had reverently and gently cleaned you and held you in the hot tub filled with soaking salts and oils and had hand-fed you your favorite snacks and held water for you to sip all while telling you how brilliant and wonderful and precious you were, how much he loved you and your intelligence, you had to agree to disagree to a point.

Bruce Banner may have earned seven Ph.D.’s, but you had gotten want you wanted, after all.

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

Wip Wednesday

Untitled Fic (Correspondence)

Summary/Story so far: HotchReid, slow burn, AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together – until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. This goes on for months, their tentative friendship turning to flirtatious virtual dates, and now that Hotch knows how old Spencer actually is the barriers just continue to break down one by one. The next escalation? Stepping up from text messages... to a phone call. But it isn’t planned, or how either imagined it would be. In fact, it all begins because of a case...

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

(Set in late season 6/early season 7, unbeta’d, first draft)

(Without getting into spoilers I’m going to skim over the how and the why of Hotch knowing Spencer’s age now, just know it happens. It had to at some point, right? But they both still don’t know what the other looks like, or even heard each other speak... until now.)

-

Spencer doesn’t even see the caller ID flash across his phone screen. He's too busy with the security work he’s been buried in all morning. A project that the Attorney General sent to their department, specifically, and yet Spencer always gets roped into completing it on his own. Because ‘you can finish it faster than all of us combined, have at it tiger’, and while he may have the Ph.D.’s and titles to back up his academic positions, he’s still the newest and youngest member on the board. Seniority trumps intellect, yet again. He hates bureaucracy with a passion. But Spencer doesn’t even bother to look down at his phone when it rings, just reaches over for it blindly with a half-suffering sigh. Phone calls are always consultations, or requests from other universities, or students and faculty calling in for favors, or something else that isn’t as important to him whatsoever.

Not like Hotch is.

But Hotch is always a text. Spencer knows that text tone, his heart skips when it chimes, his ear is trained for it now. This morning, however, that’s not what happens. His phone rings, and he answers like he always does during office hours. Not even looking up from his work as he puts his phone to his ear.

“This is Dr. Reid.” 

There’s a heavy pause on the line, and Spencer is in the middle of writing out an equation that takes up half a page of his notebook. Too busy to notice it right away.

“... Dr. Reid, this is SSA Hot--” the man stops, clears his throat, voice pitching even lower in an attempt to quiet the conversation. Wherever he is at. “... it’s Hotch.” 

Spencer’s heart literally stops in his chest.

The deep bass, reverberating tones, ring in his ears like church bells and he doesn’t quite comprehend what is happening even as his mind whirls. Stalled, like a car engine that is being revved uselessly, to no avail. 

There’s no way��

“H-Hotch?” 

If he was in his right mind whatsoever, instead of stunned speechless, Spencer would have winced at the breathless sound he just let out.

“I didn’t -- I’m sorry, this wasn’t how I wanted our first phone conversation to go,” Hotch says, his voice clear and concise and smooth as water flowing over river stones. Just as cool, somehow, and yet there’s warmth in the layers underneath. They weave their way in after he apologizes, earnestly, like a small dam breaking in his cadence. He truly was sorry that he had sprung himself on Spencer like this, bringing them into a new light. Another barrier broken between them. “But I need your help.”

That shakes Spencer out of his mild panic. His irrational worry about how he sounds on the phone -- how young he sounds on the phone, because it’s far too late to do anything about that, now -- or how his voice cracks when he answers the older man. Still partially in shock, mind racing to righten itself, somehow.

“R-Right. Yes, of course. You’re still on your case, in Wyoming?” It all comes out in a rush as Spencer closes his notebook and stands up from his desk in a shot, immediately pacing along one of his floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in his office. Free hand raking through his hair to ground himself.

“Yes, the geographical profile is too complex for us to decipher and we don’t have time to cycle it through digitally. There’s a snow storm up here, we have next to no service. I can’t even get text messages or email out… just phone calls. Emergency phone calls.” There’s an authority to Hotch’s voice that just feels like it fits him, and his job, and how Spencer remembers their first emails sounding -- it’s nothing like how they text, how they message each other at all hours of the night and make each other laugh on different sides of the country. He finds he likes it, though, finds it soothing in a way that calms his rattled nerves the more he speaks, and gets Spencer to focus on the task at hand. Hotch’s team is on a case, people are dead, a killer is on the loose. Hotch needs his help. “It also means we can’t access anything from the home office at Quantico, so we’re stuck up a creek at the moment.”

“I’m faster than a computer, anyway, have Ms. Garcia send it all over to me as soon as she can,” Spencer tells him, putting his phone between his ear and shoulder as he scoops up his laptop and races out of his office. Making a beeline towards the conference room where he’ll have more room to work. Spencer is already logging into his email and closing the door with his foot for privacy when he juggles his phone to his hand. “I’m putting you on speaker, but it’s just me in here. I can start when I have everything.” He drops his cell to the table and leans over it as he sets up, clearing off the work space as quick as his frantic hands allow. 

But something stops him. Spencer pauses in his shuffling of papers left over from that morning’s meetings as a thought sticks in the forefront of his mind. Entirely inappropriate, considering the circumstances, but… face flushed red and eyes darting to the phone -- Hotch’s name there above the call time duration -- Spencer licks his lips nervously and asks, anyway. 

“... am I on speaker there?”

“Not yet, I was about to switch you over.”

“Wait! I just --” he pauses, flushing further at his outburst, and he knows his words have gone a little breathless and high and he’s embarrassed by it all but... he has to say it. The development is too shocking, too out of their realm of influence. If and when they had planned on moving up from texts to phone calls, it wouldn’t have gone like this, or have had this much urgency. It’s still the first time Spencer has ever heard Hotch speak, and he can’t ignore how groundbreaking that is. What it’s changing between them, even as they work on a case that requires all their attention.

“-- I really like the sound of your voice,” he admits, his own words quieted because he knows this isn’t the time or the place. “The decibels are soothing, which is so fascinating to me and I’m sure there’s a science behind it, I’ll have to look it up later. And…it’s close to how I pictured you might sound… but better?” God, Spencer never stumbles over words like this and he clears his throat as he tries to righten his composure to something a little less… awestruck. Focus. They have a case. “Will you -- can we talk tonight, too? Please.” 

“Of course,” Hotch says quietly, assuringly, and his voice rumbles through the speaker on the table. Spencer feels it like a shockwave, from shaking breath to numb fingertips. He’s glad he’s leaning against the table, when it happens, because he goes a little lightheaded from it. “You’re… just as I expected.” And there’s a tone there that says it like praise, and Spencer’s heart feels light as air. “We’ll talk more about it later,” Hotch promises, and suddenly Spencer can hear a door opening on the other end of the line and a click of sound as the police station background noise filters through the conference room. “You’re on speaker with my team,” Hotch says, his voice a little bit further away, but not any less stronger for it. “This is Dr. Spencer Reid at CalTech, he’s going to finish the geographical profile for us.”

(tbc...)

[nastybuckybarnes]

Sinners and Saints  -  18+

Pairing: Bucky X Innocent!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a man who enjoys the art of sinning. You’re a good church girl who obeys her parents. When he decides he wants you, he’s going to have you.

Warnings: Smut, Age Gap, Language,

Word Count: 3K

A/n: Tomorrow we’re doing dirty drabbles. I’m excited. I also have a week and a half off of work so woot woot.

EDITED POORLY

~*~

Bucky Barnes is going to Hell.

That much, he knows for sure.

He’s a man who loves sinning far too much and when the time comes, he’s got a first-class ticket to the burning world below.

That being said, he doesn't want to go down there for some stupid reason. So, he’s made it his goal to sin as much as he can in this life.

And he has his eye trained on his next one.

You sit prim and proper beside your mother, head bowed slightly as you listen to his brother drone on and on about the power of the lord. 

The purest of them all, never to dream of sin. And yet you walk around in skirts that blow with the wind, shirts that show your bust, and a smile on your face that could easily make the pope give in to Sin.

“Go in peace, to love and serve the Lord and one another.” He snaps back to the present as people start standing up, his eyes finding yours. Your eyebrows raise in surprise and he winks at you, smiling as you giggle into your hand.

People come up to his brother and talk and talk and talk. He tries to hide the bored look on his face. But when he catches a glimpse of your amazing legs beneath your skirt, lining up with your mother to talk to the Priest, he smiles widely.

Standing up and smoothing his clothes, he walks over to the two of you.

“Good morning, ma’am, and God Bless.” The words taste bitter on his tongue.

“Good morning, James. How are you today?” Your mother asks, smiling at the man. “I’m well, thank you. How are you?” She sighs and shakes her head. “Our neighbour Peter is sick again. His aunt is very busy with work and she asked me to help take care of him. Now that I’m doing that I haven’t had time to do any of our usual chores.”

Opportunity slaps Bucky across the face.

“Well ma’am, I don’t want to impose, but I could help you? I’m quite the handyman.” His eyes flash to yours and you bite your lip nervously, fingers toying with a loose string on your Cardigan.

“Oh, James! I couldn’t possibly ask that of you!” He shakes his head and smiles brightly at your mother. “It’s no problem, really. I may have overheard your husband talking about hiring someone to fix a few things around the house. I could do it free of charge. And I assure you, I’m quite good with my hands.” His eyes flame as he stares at you while saying those last words. You shift nervously, heat growing in your belly.

“Well, if you insist. Come by our house after you’re finished here and I’ll get you all set up. And before you say anything, we’re most definitely going to be paying you for your services.” He smiles, the thought of getting closer to you more than enough to have him working whatever job she wants him too.

“I’ll see you then, Mrs. (Y/l/n). (Y/n).” He nods at you and you clench your hands into fists, arousal pooling in your panties.

“James.” He walks away feeling accomplished and horny and absolutely ready to catch a glimpse of what’s hiding beneath that cute skirt.

~

“Honey? James is here. He’s going to be working on a few chores around the house while I do some work. Alright? Please don’t get in his way.” You nod and watch from the top of the stairs as he walks into your home.

“Afternoon, (Y/n).” He greets you with that panty-dropping smile and you have to divert your thoughts to mass earlier to prevent anything sinful from entering your mind.

“Afternoon, James.” He watches as you spin around the head back to your room, giving him a clear view of your sky blue panties.

He takes a deep breath then turns away from the stairs and gets to work, wanting to actually help your mother while also gaining her trust.

~

“Would you care to stay for dinner, James?” Your father asks, very pleased with all the work the young man has done around your house.

“Well...” Your mother pops her head into the room and gives James a stern look. “I’ve made more than enough for you, James. And we don’t want it going to waste, do we?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, ma’am.”

You watch from where you’re setting the table as your father gives James a list of things to do around the house over the next few weeks.

“They’ve been laying people off at work. And thankfully it hasn’t been me, but that means I’ve gotta pick up the slack and work extra hours.” James nods understandingly, his eyes flickering to you for a moment before returning to the man in front of you.

“(Y/n) does online courses and will be home every day. She’ll let you in and fix you something to eat or drink. All you’ve gotta do is ask. Our home is your home.”

You look down at the cutlery before walking over to your mother. “Is there anything else you need help with?” You ask, smiling as she kisses your forehead.

“Nothing, dear. You can go sit down.” You do as she says and sit down, nervously avoiding everyone’s eyes as James sits next to you. He’s so close that you can smell him. And he smells delicious.

“(Y/n), would you like to say Grace?” Your mother asks, smiling encouragingly at you.

You take James’ hand and your mothers, hoping they can’t feel them trembling.

“Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen."

“Amen,” everyone whispers. You let go of their hands and discretely wipe your palms on your skirt.

“So James, you’re in college?” James takes a forkful of food, chews carefully, then swallows before answering.

“No, Sir. Graduated two years ago with a Ph.D.” Your mother raises her eyebrows, impressed. “How old are you again, James?” “Twenty-nine this March.” She nods and looks over at you.

“(Y/n) will be twenty this year. She’s excelling in her studies and is pursuing a medical degree.” You smile bashfully and continue eating.

“Well, I wish you the best of luck with your studies, although I’m sure you won’t need it.” You thank him softly and continue eating.

The meal goes smoothly and when your mother brings out a cake for dessert you feel yourself relaxing. That is... until James puts his hand on your thigh.

You look over at him curiously and he simply smiles at you, his hand dipping under your skirt and moving up your thigh until his pinky brushes against your panties.

“Mr. Barnes?” You ask curiously. Your parents turn to you, surprised that you’ve spoken to him.

“Yess, (Y/n)?” He squeezes your thigh and you jump a little. “N-nevermind. My question must’ve run off. “ Your father chuckles and says something about how that happens to the best of people. You’re too busy trying not to jolt as his fingers slip beneath your panties, brushing against your wet folds.

One of his thick fingers slips inside of you and you gasp loudly, dropping your fork onto the floor.

“Oh goodness! I-I’m sorry mother.” She frowns at your behaviour.

“I can grab your fork for you, (Y/n).” James bends down to pick up your fork, removing his fingers from you as he comes back up. He hands you the fork and holds your gaze as he brings the finger that was inside of you to his mouth.

“I’m feeling I’ll, mother. May I please be excused?” She nods and you hurry upstairs, your thighs trembling as purely sinful thoughts fill your mind.

You drop to your knees beside your bed and start praying desperately, begging God to forgive you for the sin you committed at the table. Asking Him to remove the sinful thoughts from your mind.

~

“(Y/n) your father’s at work and I’m popping over to check on Peter. James is working in the back yard. Get him lunch and a drink if he asks.” You nod, watching as your mother hurries out of the house.

It’s been a week since the dinner incident and since then you’ve had naughty thoughts far more often than you’d like to admit.

You’re typing away on your laptop when the back door opens.

“Afternoon, (Y/n).” You give James a curt nod, not wanting to interact with him any more than you have to.

“I’m feeling parched. Could you grab me a drink?” You close your laptop and walk to the fridge, grabbing him a bottle of water. He takes it from you, eyes drinking in your figure.

You can’t help but watch as he brings the bottle up to his pink lips, a few drops of water trailing over his chin and down his neck.

You look away quickly and swallow hard, rubbing your thighs together to try and get rid of the growing tension between them.

“I know you want to sin,” he whispers suddenly, one of his hands finding your waist.

“M-Mr. Barnes… I don’t….” He shushes you, stepping closer until his thigh is between your legs.

“It’s okay. You know, it’s not a sin if it’s with someone from church. If you’re both followers of Christ then your sins are immediately forgiven.” Your eyebrows raise. “Really?” He nods, the hand on your waist squeezing tightly.

“It would be a sin on my part to let you exist in a state of frustration the way you are. Do you want me to help?” You nod vigorously, relieved that it’s not sinning with him.

“Rub yourself on my thigh.” You follow his command, gasping as pleasure erupts from between your legs. “Wh-what is this?” You ask breathlessly, rubbing harder and faster against him.

“That’s your pretty little clit thanking you for making her happy. And your pussy is crying right now because she wants attention. But don’t worry, daddy’s gonna give you all the attention you need.” He helps you ride his thigh, biting his bottom lip as you soak through your panties and make a mess of his jeans.

“Oh, oh.. yes… yes…” Your hips stutter then stop, the pleasure too much.

“No Princess. You’ve gotta keep going if you want it to feel good.” He forces you to keep moving, grinding you against his thigh as you moan and whimper.

“But Mr. Barnes…” He shakes his head and looks into your eyes. “Call me daddy when we’re alone.” “Daddy… it’s too much.” He ignores you and continues rubbing your puffy pussy over his jeans, eyes focused on your face as you slowly come undone right in the kitchen. Your body convulses and you lean against him for support, gasping wildly and moaning as your very first orgasm rips you apart.

“Mr. B- Daddy,” you correct yourself last minute. “What was that?” He smiles and kisses your lips, relishing in the little squeak you release. Your lips quickly move against his, the feeling foreign but wonderful.

“That, babygirl, was called an orgasm. And daddy plans on giving you plenty of those.”

~*~

For the next few days, James shows you how good orgasms feel, and how to give yourself one.

You're rubbing your clit furiously, eyebrows drawn together in slight frustration as your climax lies just out of reach.

“Does my baby want some help?” You squeal and attempt to cover yourself. James laughs and locks your bedroom door behind himself.

“Your mother went into town with your father. They won’t be home for a few hours. I figured maybe I can show you another way to orgasm.” You nod excitedly, desperate to get off.

“Lie back against your pillows, princess. Daddy’s gonna show you how good it feels to have someone eat your pussy.” The words make you feel embarrassed for a moment but that -and all other thoughts- leaves your mind as soon as he brushes his tongue over your wet folds.

“Oh Daddy!” You grab his hair, the sensation strange but absolutely breathtaking.

“Mhm... daddy’s eating your cute princess cunt. You taste so good, baby.” He sucks on your clit harshly then pushes his tongue inside of you. “D-daddy...” He grins and continues fucking into you with his tongue, only to replace it with his middle finger.

His mouth focusses solely on your clit and you yell out praises. The sloppy sound of him fingering you makes you even wetter and he’s surprised that he’s not drowning in your slick. Yet.

Your orgasm catches you by surprise and you shout out for him, your legs trembling around his head as he licks you through it.

He pulls away after a few more moments, a wicked grin on his face as you lie panting on your bed.

“That one felt so so good daddy. I want another one. Please?” He looks around then nods, grabbing your hairbrush off of your dresser and heading into the bathroom. You’re half asleep when he comes back, but that doesn't stop him from gingerly pushing the handle of the hairbrush into your tight cunt.

“Oh... that feels so good...” He moves it slowly in and out of you and you moan lazily, eyes fighting to open. “I like that... I like it a lot...” He continues fucking you with the hairbrush, watching the way your cunt swallows the handle, squeezing it tightly.

“Look at how pretty your pussy looks, taking your hairbrush. You’re so greedy baby. Your pussy just wants someone to play with it. That’s why daddy is here.”

You’re almost asleep but that doesn’t stop him. He keeps fucking your pliant body with the brush, lost in the way your delicious pussy looks.

When your body starts quivering he pulls the brush out, his tongue replacing it and guzzling up your sweet juices.

“You taste amazing baby.” He looks up to your face when you don’t respond, chuckling as he finds you fast asleep.

He redresses you then tucks you in, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before heading downstairs to get back to work.

~

“Alright dear. James is gonna be working upstairs to fix that leaky faucet. Your father and I should be home around midnight. If anything happens, call us.” She kisses your forehead then promptly leaves, your father following after her.

As soon as they’re gone you grab your hairbrush and push your panties aside, desperate to feel it stretching your walls.

You fuck yourself on your brush, moaning at the intense feeling of your impending orgasm.

“Stop.” Your hand freezes and you look up at James.

“Take your panties off then come sit on my lap.” He’s seated on your bed, his hand down his pants.

You rid yourself of your soaked panties then hurry to sit on his lap, eager for him to give you another orgasm.

“Today I’m gonna put my cock in you. And you’re gonna take it all like a good girl, right?” You nod and glance down, your eyes widening as you see his long thick cock.

“I don’t think it’s gonna fit, daddy.” He chuckles and kisses the corner of your mouth. “I’ll make it fit.” He helps you onto your knees and lines his hard cock at your entrance, guiding your hips down.

When the tip nudges inside of you you cry out, the heat of it and the stretch feeling like something out of a fairytale.

He helps you down more and more, ignoring the way you cry out in pain, until his hips are flush with the underside of your thighs.

“So good, baby. So good for me.” He brushes your hair out of your face and you whimper, eyes shut tightly.

“Whenever you want it to feel good, start moving.” His voice is strained and tight, the feel of your tight wet walls hugging his cock almost too much.

You stay still for a while, letting your walls adjust to the intrusion. When you’re ready for more you look up at him with need written all over your face.

“Ride Daddy like he’s a horsey, okay? Just like we’re playing horsey.” You nod and slowly start rocking your hips, high-pitched moans bouncing off the walls of your room. You ride him slowly, not exactly sure what you’re doing, and he gets tired of that quickly.

He flips you onto your back and hammers into you, watching your mouth drop open and eyes roll back.

“Oh goodness!” He chuckles and fucks into you with no remorse, pounding into your poor pussy as hard as he can.

Your legs are wrapped tight around his body as a powerful orgasm surges through your veins, the smell of sex and sweat overpowering your lilac candle.

“Daddy! Daddy, please! I want one! Please!” He chuckles, the sound almost lost between the panting of the two of you and the squelching noises of your soaked pussy devouring his thick cock.

One of his hands snakes down to where your bodies are connected and he rubs on your clit, cursing as your walls flutter around him.

“I... Oh Daddy it’s coming!!” He rubs harder and your pussy squeezes his cock as you let out a scream, the orgasm almost knocking you out.

He tries to thrust but he basically can’t move with the way your cunt is squeezing him. You’re so tight it almost hurts.

Then your walls start pulsing and he can’t hold on. He cums inside of you, thick ropes of white painting your cervix and coating your walls.

The two of you pant on your bed, his face pressed against your breasts while your legs lie limply at your sides.

“Daddy?” you whisper, tugging gently on his hair so he looks up at you.

“Yes, Princess?” You bite your lip then clench your cunt around him, making him moan.

“I want another one.”

~

TAGS:

PERMANENT TAGS: @smolbeanbucky @wildefire @inumorph @impalatobakerstreet @nanna022 @mummy-woves-you @m-a-t-91 @wtfholland @bookgirlunicorn @beautifulwisdom2001 @deep-sea-glitter @mrhiddles-81 @iamwarrenspeace @bitchacho25 @escapetheshackles @i-know-i-can @buckyssoul @avnngrs @swoonhui @destiel-artemis @frozenhuntress67 @unlikelygalaxygiver @agentlokidottir @viarogers @dumblani @mypassionsarenysins @mapreza1 @courtmr @paradisiacalsparks @notyourtypicalrose @viarogers @funkenniffler @yikes-buckybarnes @just-bran @jetaimeamore @thepettyavenger @mapreza1

MARVEL:

@look-to-the-stars-and-wish @maladaptive-ninja-returns @april-14-blog @momc95 @shakzer00 @inkedaztec @cal-ifornication @heartislubbingdubbing @my-suga-kookies @imaginewhoever @soryuwifeyxx

BUCKY: @chuuulip @nerd-without-a-cause @natashasnight @dragonrosegardens @saharzek @fandom-princess-forevermore

[goindownshipping]

‘ this is your favorite, right? ' - frostiron, if you please :D

A few of my favorite things

Pairing: Tony Stark/Loki (Frostiron)

Rating: Gen (G)

Notes: Some snarky frostiron fluff for your consideration! Thanks for the prompt @ohwereusingourmadeupnames​!

Warnings: Quasi teacher/student (Tony is a student teacher, Loki is his cooperating teacher), but everyone is of age and nothing happens until it would be deemed appropriate :)

Word count: 2k

Summary:

The last day of school was always bittersweet for Loki, but this year brought a whole new meaning to the word ... Anthony Stark, his student teacher for the semester, was causing more trouble for him than he ever expected. The trouble had nothing to do with his knowledge of science or his teaching ability. As a student teacher, Mr. Stark excelled and had a bright future wherever he chose to go next. No, the challenges came in Loki’s personal attachment to the man.

Or, Loki and Tony connect when Tony is assigned as Loki’s student teacher for a semester. Some lack of communication can’t get in the way of their witty infatuation and eventual love for each other.

The last day of school was always bittersweet for Loki, but this year brought a whole new meaning to the word. He had some of the brightest students he’d ever taught in his classes that semester; the AP students were bright and up for the challenge, the ninth graders were eager to learn, and his research students asked all the right questions. He knew all those students were going on to bigger and brighter things, many of them would be back the following year, though. 

However, the students weren’t the challenging ones to say goodbye to. Anthony Stark, his student teacher for the semester, was causing more trouble for him than he ever expected. The trouble had nothing to do with his knowledge of science or his teaching ability. As a student teacher, Mr. Stark excelled and had a bright future wherever he chose to go next. No, the challenges came in Loki’s personal attachment to the man. 

Five months ago, Anthony Stark walked into Loki’s classroom with a natural affinity for science and education that Loki had never seen or experienced. Sure, he was a young teacher himself, but he knew that what Mr. Stark possessed was special. He was proven correct when he observed Tony build real relationships with students, reimagine teaching styles to meet their needs, and take on responsibilities that neither Loki nor his professors expected of him.

Tony’s knack for high school chemistry and physics only scratched the surface of who he was. Loki couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t struck by Tony’s beauty from the very beginning, but he knew that wasn’t a subject that he could broach while Tony was under his mentorship. Tony never pushed it, but he knew the lingering glances and accidental touches were mutual between him and his cooperating teacher. There was one particular interaction between the two men that neither of them seemed to be able to shake.

About halfway through the semester, right around spring break, Loki and Tony were sitting around Loki’s desk grading exams and going over Tony’s progress. Loki had his daily English Breakfast tea in hand and Tony had to physically force himself to keep his eyes on the stack of tests in front of him rather than the gorgeous man across the desk.

“You know, these kids are only doing so well this year because you’re such a great teacher,” Loki said.

Tony blushed slightly. “I don’t know about that. You designed the curriculum.”

“Sure, but you’ve been taking the lead for the past few weeks. You figured out the best way to teach the concepts, not me.”

“Well, thank you. But I really am learning from the best.”

Loki blushed this time, but couldn’t bring himself to meet Tony’s gaze. “Have you thought about your plans for after graduation? You could get a job teaching physics or chemistry anywhere, Anthony. You’ve done really well here.”

Tony shrugged. “I’m not sure. My family really doesn’t want me to go into teaching at the high school level. I’ve been accepted to a Ph.D. program with a research emphasis…” Tony trailed off.

Loki looked up at the hesitation in Tony’s voice. “Is that what you want Anthony?”

Tony held his gaze. “It doesn’t really matter what I want, does it?”

Loki paused. He knew Tony’s family life was complicated. Being a Stark certainly wasn’t easy. He also knew that Tony wasn’t only referring to that particular situation with his comment.

“Anthony,” Loki started. 

“No, don’t,” Tony said firmly. “Please.” His shoulders sagged, all the fight going out of him with that final plea.

“For what it’s worth, I know what you mean,” Loki conceded.

Tony snorted, “Thanks, Mr. L.”

“Really, Tony? Mr. L?” Loki’s face morphed into a combination of hurt and confused. Over the past few months he and Tony had grown close; closer than he could’ve expected to grow with a student teacher. He knew it wasn’t breaking any rules, but he made sure that their relationship, if you could even call it that, never crossed any lines.

Loki cherished their daily chats over coffee and tea, countless inside jokes, and private smiles more than almost anything. He would give anything to explore a relationship with Tony outside the classroom, but he couldn’t do that - not yet. Tony just had a few more months under his guidance, then they could figure it out. He only hoped Tony would still be interested that far down the road.

“Sorry, Loki. It’s just- you know.”

“I know, Tony. Let’s get just get through this,” he gestured to the tests between them, “and go from there. Then once the semester is over, we’ll figure that out too,” he said hopefully.

The rest of the semester passed smoothly. Their students continued succeeding and Loki and Tony moved around each other seamlessly in the classroom, creating a positive learning environment for everyone. After school hours, Tony and Loki chatted over their hot beverage of choice and continued to build a connection neither man saw coming.

That was why Loki was so surprised when the last day of school came and went without so much as a goodbye from his student teacher. Tony’s semester had ended a few weeks prior, so his final evaluations and observations were already completed. When the high school semester came to an end, there weren’t any loose ends for him to tie up. As soon as that final bell rang, he was out the door without so much as a backward glance.

At first, Loki was hurt and confused. He thought they would’ve at least talked about whatever they could be once the school year ended. Tony’s disappearance made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t interested in figuring anything out. 

A few weeks into summer, Loki’s confusion turned into acceptance. He knew how much pressure Tony was under, both self-inflicted and from his family. Loki resigned himself to thinking wishful thoughts that Tony found a way to pursue his own dreams, not the ones he was pressured to explore.

--

3 months later

The start of the school year was always chaotic. No matter how much planning and preparation Loki did, the first day of high school chemistry never seemed to go smoothly. From the fear in the eyes of his advanced placement students to the sheer boredom of his last class of the day, it was always the longest day of the year. At the same time, he never seemed to have enough time to actually get the ball rolling. When the last 16 year old sluggishly exited his classroom at 2:30pm, Loki was ready to collapse.

And he would have if there wasn’t an immediate knock at his classroom door. So much for catching his breath. He glanced through the narrow rectangular window and was surprised by the familiar dark eyes he found peering back at him. He nodded at the visitor, indicating for them to come in. His breath caught at the sight of Anthony Stark standing on the threshold of his classroom. It was a familiar sight and yet everything was different from that day nearly nine months prior.

“Anthony?”

“Figured I should make the rounds finally,” Tony shrugged. “Being the new kid on the block can be pretty tough.”

“The new- what?”

“Didn’t Fury tell you there was a new Physics teacher in the department?”

“Well, yes, I knew we were hiring, but just last week it was still vacant.”

“Well just last week I decided research was overrated,” Tony said with a smile.

“It’s lovely to see you, Anthony.” Loki’s face stretched into a grin without his permission and suddenly he was grinning like an idiot at the man in front of him. He took a few steps toward the door as Tony pulled the door shut behind him. 

Tony smiled that crooked grin and Loki’s resolve nearly broke. “Oh,” Tony closed the distance between them and reached a hand forward, extending a large reusable mug into Loki’s hand. “This is your favorite, right?”

Loki looked down in disbelief then back up at Tony as the scent of English Breakfast filled his nose as the steam billowed up from the mug. “Depends on what you’re referring to. You or the tea? Because it’s a hard decision right now.”

“I’ll leave that up to you,” Tony smirked. With that, he spun on his heel and headed for the door.

“Wait!” Loki called, desperate to stop Tony before he opened the door to the chaotic after school hallway.

Tony turned around, his hand loosely gripping the doorknob. “Yes?”

“Don’t just leave again,” Loki whispered, a hopeful smile on his face.

“I couldn’t have gone far, Loki. My classroom is just down the hall.”

“Still. Let’s get out of here. There’s never any real work to be done on the first day, right?”

Tony’s face broke into a grin again. “You tell me, Mr. L.”

“Oh god, no. None of that,” Loki groaned.

“I’ll meet you in the parking lot in 15 minutes.” Tony waved and before Loki could reply, he was disappearing down the hall.

Loki smiled as he sipped his tea, not quite sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t be mad about it. He quickly straightened up his classroom and locked the cabinets before laying out his plans for the following day. Before he knew it he was packing up his briefcase and locking his classroom. The halls were gratefully quiet by then, and when he made it to the parking lot he couldn’t help the pleasant butterflies in his chest at the sight of Anthony leaning against his car.

By the time he was directly in front of the slightly younger man, he had to physically stop himself from reaching out.

“So, where to Mr. Stark?”

“You’re not too far from here, yeah? Is it too forward to invite myself to your house?”

“Certainly not,” Loki smiled. “I’m just over there,” Loki gestured to his car across the lot. “Follow me out?”

“Sure thing!”

Loki stood still for a moment too long, and Tony didn’t miss the opportunity to let his eyes sweep up and down Loki’s tall figure. Loki felt a blush rise to his cheeks at the attention Tony was giving him. After just a few months away, he couldn’t seem to get his fill.

“You want a ride or something?” Tony asked with a smirk.

“Excuse me?!” Loki spluttered.

“To your car, Bambi. You look like a deer in the headlights.”

Loki cleared his throat and took a small step backward when he heard a group of students on the field behind the parking lot. “I’ll be just fine, Anthony. I’ll see you shortly.”

Loki could hear Tony laughing softly as he took long strides across the concrete, desperate to stop embarrassing himself for just a moment. He knew it would continue at his house, but a short break was better than nothing. As soon as he was behind the wheel he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks and the tops of his ears were bright red, no doubt due to Tony’s flirting and teasing. Loki shook his head with a smile. He was in for an interesting afternoon.

--

3 years later

“Hey, Lokes!” Tony called down the hall. “We’ve gotta go if we don’t want to be late!”

Loki scurried down the hall from their bedroom into the kitchen, looking nowhere near ready for the day. His hair was barely pulled back and the buttons on his shirt were off by one, creating an unintentional asymmetric look.

“Fix your shirt, I’ll get your tea,” Tony said fondly.

Loki pressed a quick kiss to Tony’s cheek, continuing his tornado-like movement throughout the kitchen. “Thank you, Anthony. You’re the best.”

Tony just nodded and smiled to himself, watching his fiance bustle around the kitchen and grab random papers and books that had been strewn across the counters for weeks. As soon as Tony placed a lid on Loki’s tea and his own coffee, he turned to find Loki smiling right back at him.

“Ready, love?”

“After you, Mr. L.”

“Hey, that’ll be Mr. S soon enough,” Loki retorted as he headed for the front door.

Tony shook his head, “You still sure about that?”

Loki squeezed Tony’s hand, “More than. After all, you are my favorite.”

[marksburyscripts]

Season 1, Episode 5-- Heartwrench

Google Doc

[Henry’s hospital room. Day. There are no longer the sounds of life support.]

VICTOR

...You’re sure it’s okay?

HENRY

Yeah, it’s fine. Whatever helps. Record away.

VICTOR

All right. Thanks.

HENRY

...You don’t have to be nervous, you know.

VICTOR

I’m not.

HENRY

Then why are you doing that?

VICTOR

Doing what?

HENRY

You’re clenching and releasing your hand, and you’re rocking a bit in your chair. Both of which you do when you’re nervous. Seriously, how long have I known you? [Beat.] No, you don’t have to stop.

VICTOR

Oh thank God. [Beat.] ...How’re you feeling?

HENRY

Like I’ve been in a coma for the better part of a year. But lucid, so that’s an improvement, I guess.

VICTOR

Right. Right, yeah.

HENRY

...You know we’ve gotta talk about this, right?

VICTOR

Henry, shouldn’t we wait until you’re--

HENRY

No. We’re doing it now. While you’re recording. ...Victor, please tell me that I’m remembering wrong. Please tell me that I’ve just got some real bad brain damage and it’s fucking with me. That I didn’t walk in on some… first attempt at reanimating a fucking corpse.

VICTOR

[Mumbled] Second.

HENRY

Excuse me?

VICTOR

It was a second attempt, I’d done it before.

HENRY

Jesus Christ.

VICTOR

Also it’s not technically reanimation. If it had been a single body, sure, but I used materials from several donors--

HENRY

What the hell is wrong with you? In what fantasy could you ever see that turning out well? That’s the kind of shit that horror movies are made from!

VICTOR

I’m sorry, I--

HENRY

You were stupid! You were stupid, and reckless, and you didn’t think about the consequences!

VICTOR

I know, I just--

HENRY

Oh my God, that’s what the fire was about, wasn’t it? That had something to do with it. You freaked out, and you tried to burn the evidence. So what, you figured you’d risk more lives then, too? What if there had been people in there, Victor, what then?! Is that what attacked me? And did-- Did Justine really kill your brother? Or was that part of it, too? You have people’s lives on your conscience, all because you wanted to fuck around and find out if you could--

VICTOR

I just wanted my mom back, okay?! I know I fucked up. Believe me, I don’t need any more reminders. But I-- I had my reasons, it wasn’t just some ego trip.

HENRY

[Calmer now] ...Does Elliot know?

VICTOR

I’m sure he figured it out, yeah.

HENRY

What’s that supposed to mean?

VICTOR

Oh. Oh God, they didn’t tell you.

HENRY

Tell me what?

VICTOR

...Henry, Elliot’s dead.

HENRY

Oh God. God, I…. I’m so sorry, I…. How’s your dad taking it?

VICTOR

Well, considering he died two days later, I’d say not very well.

HENRY

What?

VICTOR

[Getting more and more distraught] He’s dead too, Henry. Him, Elliot, my mother, Billy, Justine. Everyone is dead, and I have been so alone and so scared, and I have no idea what I am supposed to do.

HENRY

...Hey. C’mere. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m just stressed, I shouldn’t have said all that shit.

VICTOR

You have every right to.

HENRY

No, being a dick won’t fix anything. Plus, you’ve obviously been through hell. Your glasses look like you were just at a 4Chan meetup.

VICTOR

[Laughs] I don’t know what that means.

HENRY

It means you need to get some damn lens cleaner, how the hell can you see out of those thing?

VICTOR

Just used to it, I suppose.

HENRY

You hear from Evelynn at all?

VICTOR

Take a guess.

HENRY

That’ll be a no. You try talking to her?

VICTOR

Of course not.

HENRY

...So you’re upset that you’ve been alone, yet you haven’t even tried to get in contact with your sister?

VICTOR

Look, I don’t need a lecture right now, okay? I get enough of those from Dr Walton.

HENRY

Wait, you’re seeing Dr Walton? Like, Robert Walton? Kinda short, always has a bow tie?

VICTOR

Yeah…? Do you know him, or…?

HENRY

Sort of, he was a guest speaker for my Abnormal Psych class during undergrad. He seems good.

VICTOR

Yeah, I suppose.

HENRY

How much you tell him?

VICTOR

I’m not sure I could tell him what happened even if I wanted to.

HENRY

...What happens when you try?

VICTOR

Don’t. Don’t do that.

HENRY

Do what?

VICTOR

That. You’re trying to… diagnose me.

HENRY

No, you’re my friend and I don’t have a license to practice. That’s illegal. I’m… offering informed advice.

VICTOR

Yeah, well, I’ll save you the trouble. Clinical depression, post traumatic stress disorder, and paranoid personality disorder. Though that last one is debatable. I might be missing some. Come back when you finish your Ph.D, Clerval.

HENRY

[Softly] Jesus…. [Trying to lighten the mood now] Doing it then it would be even more illegal. Then we’ll have two criminals here. [Beat.] Sorry. That wasn’t as funny as I expected it to be.

VICTOR

No. No, it’s fine. You’re not wrong. [Laughs] Should’ve seen what it was like trying to find a job with an arson charge. I’m lucky I managed to get the one I have.

HENRY

Yeah? What job’s that?

VICTOR

I’m over at Harris’ down on Main Street.

HENRY

Holy shit. The great Victor Frankenstein, the mad genius, the Prometheus of the 21st century, is selling discount hardware.

VICTOR

Well, I don’t actually sell anything most of the time. I’m customer service. Mostly returns, taking phone calls, fun stuff like that.

HENRY

You’re fucking with me. You hate talking on the phone.

VICTOR

And I hate my job. But if they’re willing to give a felon minimum wage, who am I to argue?

HENRY

Hey man, whatever works. I do have one more question, though. 

VICTOR

Okay?

HENRY

Is that the hoodie I lent you that day?

VICTOR 

Oh, um, right, yeah. I-- I was going to give it back, but then you-- You know, and then I was just so distracted, between worrying about you and the police hounding me--

HENRY

Hold on, police?

VICTOR

Oh. Right. They, um… They thought that I did it for a while. Elliot, too.

HENRY

Oh God. 

VICTOR

I mean, I can't blame them. I've got a record, and that's a lot of people close to me who--

[The door opens. Both men are silent for a moment.]

HENRY

Hello…?

VICTOR

Sorry. That’s probably me.

HENRY

What?

VICTOR

Things have been… weird. It’s a long story.

HENRY

You built a person out of corpses, and I’m bedridden for who knows how long. I’ve got all the time in the world for the details.

VICTOR

...Ever since I…. Ever since the fire, things have been… happening around me. I know how this is going to sound, but you need to believe me, okay? Ever since I… made it… it’s like…. I don’t know. It doesn’t even really make sense, I-- The two concepts aren’t even remotely similar, I--

HENRY

Hey. Hey, breathe for me, okay? 

VICTOR

Okay. Okay, sorry. ...That was the first night that I experienced something that I was unable to explain. Granted, I wasn’t exactly in the best mental state at the time, so for a while, I figured that it must have been a hallucination. I’ll be honest, sometimes I’m still able to convince myself that it was. But I know it’s not. 

VICTOR (Cont.)

Sorry. Sorry, let me back up. [Sighs] The… first signs of life came at 1:15 AM. The rise and fall of the chest, the flicker of movement behind the eyelids. Whether or not there was cognitive function had yet to be seen, but… I suppose you know how that turned out. It was at 1:16 that everything started to go downhill. When I realized what I’d done, when-- when the possible consequences hit me all at once. The wrongness of the situation, I…. I almost didn’t hear it. Or-- No. No, I didn’t hear it so much as I felt it. I felt a voice throughout my body, in every single nerve, clawing its way into my subconscious. I-- I couldn’t make out what it was saying, but… I got the sickening feeling that it was proud of me. Proud of what I’d managed to achieve. Whether or not anything happened for the couple months that I was in the hospital afterwards, I can’t really say. I was in shock, I couldn’t tell you what was real and what was hallucination. Honestly, you’d probably be better at figuring out if anything odd was happening during that time, you were there. But what I can tell you is that it never stopped. Sometimes the TV would turn on in the middle of the night blasting static, a couple times I woke up in the morning to find my glasses outside on the windowsill. Then there are the more… sinister ones. Beings that aren’t quite human, there one moment, gone the next. Or sinking, terrifying senses of dread that lead up to disaster.

HENRY

So… you’re seeing ghosts?

VICTOR

No, obviously not ghosts, ghosts don’t exist. Jeeze, you sound like Elliot. [He laughs, but it fades]  ...Not ghosts. But… something. Something that found me that night and hasn’t left me alone since. It’s all connected, I know it is. I just need to analyze everything. You know me, I work with data and research. If I can get the evidence, I can work out what’s going on. I even ended up setting cameras up in my house, but… they always freeze up whenever something happens. Typical. Either that or-- Or I don’t even have it happen myself, sometimes it’s other people who--

HENRY

Wait. Other people?

VICTOR

Yes. But it’s not like I want it to happen, it just does. I usually don’t even know them. I just… hear about them on the news, or sometimes they tell me themselves if I happen to run into them.

HENRY

...And strangers just tell you about all the creepy shit that happens to them?

VICTOR

...Sometimes, yeah.

HENRY

...You know what, I’m not going to even pretend to be surprised.

VICTOR

Honestly, that’s how I deal with it. So yeah. There you go. Spooky.

HENRY

...Do people get hurt because of it? [Victor doesn’t answer] Shit…. Well then. That settles it. I guess we’ve got work to do.

VICTOR

What?

HENRY

I said, we’ve got work to do. Maybe you’re content wallowing in self-pity while creepy shit radiates off of you, but I sure as hell won’t sit on my ass as it happens.

VICTOR

Henry--

HENRY

I know what you’re doing. You’re treating it like some punishment. Like you deserve it. Well, I’m here to tell you that you don’t. And neither does anyone else. You fucked up, yeah. And I’m not going to lie, it’s going to take some time for us to get back to the way we were. But it’s like you said. You had your reasons. You didn’t mean for it all to go to hell. And you didn’t kill them. So you and me are going to buck up and--

[He is cut off by a sound of pain as he moves]

VICTOR

Hey, whoa, whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa. We'll figure it out. We have time to plan, take action, whatever we need to do. But right now, what you need to do is rest. I'll wash the hoodie and bring it back first thing tomorrow. 

HENRY

Nah, you keep it. It suits you, I can always get another. Plus, who the hell knows where you've been the past year? 

VICTOR 

[He laughs. This time it feels genuine] Asshole.

NEXT EPISODE➝

[redbeardace]

Asexuality Activism Report Card

[This post is a submission for the October Carnival of Aces, hosted by @asexualawarenessweek, on the theme “Reaching In, Reaching Out”]

Every year around Ace Week, I tend to give encouragement and suggestions about the type of outreach or activism we can do.  This year, I’m going to do things a little different and instead give a report card on where I think we are in terms of various kinds of activism/outreach/visibility.

These are solely my opinions and my categories and are based on my experiences and not any kind of exhaustive research or survey.  Please feel free to provide your own grades and suggest other areas I might have missed.  I also want to note that these grades are not an indictment or attack on any particular group, person, or project.  If you’re working on any of these things, you’re part of the solution and your work will make these grades improve over time, so keep at it!

And if you’re doing any of these things, please plug your projects, so people will know about them!

Intra Community - A

We focus an awful lot of energy inward, and that’s a good thing.  Extending a helping hand, providing resources, hosting chatrooms, making podcasts, organizing meetup groups, writing lengthy blog posts, hosting conferences and unconferences, selling t-shirts...  We’re doing a pretty good job supporting each other from the inside.

Queer Community - B

There are quite a few mainstream LGBTQ groups who openly support us.  We often hold our meetups at the queer community center in town.  Many aces are involved with LGBTQ organizations.  There’s an ace group who goes to Creating Change every year.  We’re an obligatory part of many organizations’ Pride messaging.  Lots of groups now deliberately use the “LGBTQIA” variant of The Acronym, and make it clear that “A” isn’t for “Allies”.  The ace group in the NYC Pride Parade this year (likely the biggest pride parade ever) was deliberately selected to be the 10th contingent, which is a huge deal because the parade was literally 12 hours long.

There are obviously challenges.  The uninformed who don’t understand why we’re at the table.  The deliberate trolls who relentlessly hound us online.  But those people will become irrelevant over time.

Unfortunately, this year marked the first time where I saw Rainbow Capitalism set its sights on us.  (With a big name ace group complicit in the exploitation...)  So that’s not good.

Everyone Else - D

We are not doing well in this area.  There are a few people out there who have heard of asexuality, but not many.  Most people use the word wrong or as the insulting punchline to a joke.  There isn’t a single household name who has come out as asexual and put themselves out there as an advocate.  It’s better than it was 8 years ago, but we’re still mostly invisible.

I don’t really have any suggestions here (except that if you’re famous and asexual, COME OUT), because most of the suggestions I’d have are covered in the other areas.

Direct Outreach - F

By “Direct Outreach”, I’m referring to deliberately trying to find people who are asexual but who are unfamiliar with the term or that do not recognize that they’re asexual for whatever reason.  It’s sort of a subset of a lot of these other groups.  (And it could probably use a better name...)

I’m calling this out explicitly, because I think this can have the most impact, if we can figure out effective ways of doing it, and I don’t think anyone’s really doing this.  (I sort of tried, but it didn’t really work out...) Basically, it would be able getting information about asexuality in front of the people who need it.  Taking over the search results for “Why don’t I want sex?”.  Writing articles about how some guys just don’t care about that sort of thing for a men’s magazine.  Maybe even a direct person to person conversation with that friend who never seems to date.  I don’t know, exactly.  If I knew, I’d be doing it.  But I think it needs to be done.

Fiction Media - C+

There are books with ace characters now!  Pretty much entirely YA, though.  And either a love story focused on the asexual character being asexual, or where asexuality is a tangential inclusion token with no real value.

There are TV shows with positive ace characters now!  Huge step forward from lows of Better Half!  Three shows, in fact!. Two of which have been canceled, and the third of which is about to have its final season.  And none of which are anywhere close to the popularity of House.  And none of which are anywhere close to the popularity of another show which completely erased a main character’s canon asexuality.

There are movies with ace char-  Oh no, no there aren’t.  Never mind.  Same with video games.

While some strides have been made, and having productions actively consulting with groups like Ace LA is a huge step forward, we’re still largely living an area of headcanons and unverified conjecture and Word Of God retcons.  There’s so much more than can be done.

Most importantly, we shouldn’t fawn over and praise any little scrap of hope.  Demand better.

If you’re in a position to make things, make them.  If you’re in a position to influence things to be made, influence them.  If you’re in a position to boost content that is made, boost it.

Non-Fiction Media - C-

There are starting to be articles about asexuality that go beyond the typical sensational “There are some people who claim to be asexual, can you believe that, isn’t that SO STRANGE” or the blandly informational 101 interview featuring a picture of sad grey people in bed.  Not many, but they’re there.  But, at the same time, there are blazingly dismissive assholes hiding behind Ph.Ds, writing things like “’demisexual,’ an unnecessary new substitute for the word ‘human’ ” in articles that are published in 20-fucking-19.

There are a number of podcasts and YouTube videos talking about asexuality, but I don’t know how much reach they have outside of the ace community.

There’s one documentary that hasn’t aged well and I think has been removed from most streaming services, and another that hasn’t been released yet and is phenomenal and you should all see it.  So that...  Two documentaries.

Taking a quick look on Amazon, there are about seven books of substance on asexuality.  Three are academic queer theory textbooks with a very specific audience.  Two are self-published.  One is a weird collection of essays, half of which have little to do with asexuality at all, written by someone who isn’t ace and who didn’t seem to bother even talking to aces for much of the book.  That leaves one book about asexuality for a general audience written by an asexual that had a real publishing run.  Just one.

Same with the fiction media, don’t go around hyping any article that mentions asexuality.  Some of them are REALLY REALLY BAD.  There was one a few months ago that said in an infographic that “Girls working part time have a 33% chance of becoming asexual”, yet it was being uncritically passed around by some high profile aces.

So, y’know, Cs get Degrees or whatever, but we can do soooo much better in this area.  Someone go write a book about asexual dating.  Someone go write a book about asexual history.  Go.  Do.  Now.

Education/Schools - D

Well, it seems like it’s getting at least mentioned occasionally, and groups like Asexual Outreach have put some work towards this.  But we’re still left out of sex ed in most places, and when we are included, the information can be confused, inaccurate, or even ridiculed by the instructor.  Tackling this area will, over time, help out every other area on this list, because the next generations will all know and understand what asexuality is, and we won’t have to start from zero in order to get anything done.

Political/Legal - F

Earlier this year, I did a cursory review of anti-discrimination laws as they pertain to asexuality.  Where asexuality was protected, it was often by accident.  Only one state explicitly mentioned asexual people.  Many states which did have strong LGBT anti-discrimination protections have defined “sexual orientation” in such a way to exclude asexuality.  Even the “Equality Act” that the Democrats have made a lot of noise about this year has that narrow definition.

We need to start making connections with politicians and political groups, and we need to start leveraging our connections with queer organizations to get them to push for better language in these laws.  (Many of the non-discrimination laws were deficient or bizarre in multiple ways, so we’d all be better off with improvements.)

And I should note that it’s an F--- as far as protections for aromantics…

Health Care - D+

Well, we managed to get parts of the DSM-V rewritten.  But even those parts are less than ideal.  There are some therapists and doctors who are well versed in asexuality, and others who, as I mentioned above, hide behind their Ph.Ds writing horrible things and going unchecked.  There’s a raft of sex pills with marketing that explicitly targets people who are probably asexual but don’t know it yet, trying to sell them worthless junk that will make them suddenly black out randomly or permanently change the color of their skin.  We’re still not an option on the clipboard the doctor hands you to fill out.  We’re still forced to take unnecessary and invasive tests for no practical reason.

I think we need to be showing up at health care conferences.  We need to be reaching out to local providers.  We need to be telling people how they should be treating us, instead of letting them fumble around and hopefully get it right on their own.

[anonthenullifier]

So I was cleaning out my writing documents and re-discovered all of my notes for a SV roller derby AU. I had planned to write it last year for the Scarlet Vision Valentine’s AU event, but didn’t because I realized it was going to end up being a multi-chaptered ordeal and I just didn’t have the time or energy to do so. Sadly I will likely never write it  but did have fun brainstorming it, so I thought I’d share the world building and plot that I did come up with in case anyone might enjoy it. 

Rough Story Summary: Victor Shade recently relocated to upstate New York after accepting a cybersecurity position at Stark Industries. His boss, THE Tony Stark, refuses to accept Vision’s preference for living in peace and insists he attend a bout for the local roller derby team, the Thunder Dolls, for which Stark is both a patron and a ref.  What started as a begrudging placation to his over-enthusiastic boss, turns into genuine wonder as he takes in the brutal yet complex game on the track and finds himself drawn to the ethereal movements of one particular jammer, Scarlet Witch.

Below the cut are character summaries and a fairly rough plot. Hope you enjoy!

Brief note on terminology for roller derby:

Bout = a match between two teams

Jammer = this is the person who wears a helmet cover with a star on it. This is the person that scores points. They first have to make it out of the pack (see below) and then on each lap around the track after that during the 2 minute period they get a point for each player of the opposing side they pass. 

Blocker = the other members of the team on the track. Their job is to block the other team’s jammer while also helping their own jammer through the pack to help her score points. 

Pivot = a blocker that wears a helmet cover with a solid line down the middle. This gives them the ability to have the jammer helmet cover transferred to them and they then become the jammer. 

Pack =  the largest conglomeration of blockers from both teams currently on the track.

List of Characters

Note: each person may have multiple pieces of information: Their name, their derby name, a description of their non-derby life, and, when applicable, what the announcers would say for their character at the derby bout. Also...some characters have more info than others based on how important they were going to be to the story and how far I got in actually planning them out. 

The Thunder Dolls

Thor Odinson aka Thor: A professor of literature with a specialization in mythology and a hobby in astrophysics by day, and at night, he is the bench coach for the Thunder Dolls. He wears leather pants, a fur-lined vest with no shirt underneath, and a horned viking hat for bouts.

Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow: Former special ops (her partner was Clint) and currently runs a bootcamp style gym, though everyone suspects she is still a spy but are too afraid to ask her. She is one of the co-captains, the main strategist, and a blocker.

“Be careful ladies and gentleman, she’s quick, she’s silent, and she’ll eat you once she’s done, the co-captain of the Thunder Dolls, Black Widow!”

Okoye aka Wakondyass: Was a visiting Fulbright scholar in chemical engineering and was offered a position upon finishing her Fulbright. She is a blocker and co-captain of the Thunder Dolls. 

“You better never try to get between our co-captain and her team or else she’ll Wakondyass!”

Wanda Maximoff aka Scarlet Witch: She is a social worker who works primarily with refugee and immigrant families. On the team she is a jammer who many suspect can read minds and manipulate the people around her because of how seamlessly she weaves between all the skaters on the track. 

“I hope you brought your salt, because you’re going to want to throw it over your shoulders if you cross her path, next up we have the Scarlet Witch!”

Carol Danvers aka Captain Marvel: Active in the Air Force and plays derby whenever she’s back home. She is a pivot.  

“Our next skater is a marvel to behold and has nothing at all to prove to you, put your hands together for Captain Marvel!”

Pepper Potts aka Rescue: CEO of Stark Industries and fiancee of Tony Stark. In her spare time she runs a rescue shelter for dogs. She is a pivot.

Other members of the team (forgive the rough names, never finished these):

Hope van Dyne aka Winsome Wasp: A jammer. 

Brie Hilde aka Valkyrie: A blocker

Maria Hill aka The Shield: A blocker

Gamora aka Xenomorph : A blocker. 

aka Nebula: A blocker.

aka Preying Mantis (called Mantis for short): A jammer. 

Peggy Carter aka MI #6: A blocker

Jessica Jones aka This Is My Alias: A blocker

Trish Walker aka Hellcat: A jammer.

Non-Skating Characters 

Victor Shade aka The Vision: a computer engineer specializing in cybersecurity. He finally attends a bout when Tony chips away at all of his excuses and he gets a free ticket in order to be a line-up tracker. Eventually he moves up to become a penalty box official.  Scott Lang aka Ant-Man: an electrical engineer by day and a derby announcer on the weekends. His entomology hobby got him his name.  Clint Barton aka Hawkeye: former special ops who now has a quiet life on a farm with his family. He is the other announcer for the derby bouts. Bucky Barnes aka Winter Soldier: Friend and former member of Steve’s original military unit. He now tries to live a normal life and has been trying to get Black Widow to notice him. He is a penalty box official. Pietro Maximoff aka Quicksilver: A professional speed skater who is often out of town for training and competitions. Wanda used to do pairs competitions with him but decided that speed skating was too linear and boring for her. 

Zebra Team (aka Skating Refs)

Tony Stark aka Iron Man: founder of Stark Industries and a jam ref for the Thunder Dolls.   

Clint: “We all love to hate him, it’s the genius, billionaire, playboy...”

Scott: “Former playboy, Hawkeye.”

Clint: “...former playboy, philanthropist, jam ref, Iron Man.”

Steve Rogers aka Captain America: current military member who is a jam ref when he is not on active duty. 

Clint:“ (Caw-Caw sound effect) Is that a bald eagle? You bet your stars and stripes it is, so please stand and pledge your allegiance to our head ref tonight, Captain America!”

Sam Wilson aka Falcon: former military, currently working towards his Ph.D. in clinical psychology while externing at the VA (Veteran’s Administration). Is an outside ref. 

James Rhodes (Rhodey) aka War Machine: current military, best friend of Tony Stark. An outside ref. 

“Our outside refs tonight are the dynamic, swooping duo of War Machine and Falcon!”

The Rough Plot

Event 1: Vision is invited to a bout by Tony because he “needs to get a life and meet people”. Tries to dodge it as best he can, eventually settling on the fact he doesn’t have the money with his recent move. Tony, who first points out how much he pays Victor, finally settles on the strategy of informing him they just happen to need a line-up tracker so he can get in for free if he’s willing to write down some numbers. Vision gives in because he can tell Tony will never drop it until he agrees. At the bout Vision finds himself engrossed in figuring out the strategy of the game and might also be a bit entranced by watching Scarlet Witch move on the track. He even messes up his lineups a few times because he can’t stop watching in awe. Tony invites him to the after party but Vision turns him down.  

Event 2: After Vision attends a couple more bouts and seems to enjoy it, Tony suggests he should go through the ref boot camp coming up because they can always use more skating officials. Vision admits he, quite unfortunately, doesn’t know how to skate and believes that will be the end of it. Except Tony swings by his cubicle later that day to invite him to the adult skate night at the local roller rink and informs Vision that no is not an acceptable answer. So Vision goes to the skate night and discovers that most of the derby team is there, as it is a weekly hang out for them. Vision tries to leave but Tony spots him and pays for his skate rentals (you know, since Vision claims to be so poor), even lets Vision borrow his wrist guards and knee pads since he’s a skating virgin. 

Vision is...not good at skating, at all, his limbs all want to go in opposite directions and he thinks he might be too tall, plus gravity is a cold hearted asshole. Additionally, Tony ditched him as soon as he saw Pepper. This leaves Vision clinging to the wall for support while he works his way to the exit until a woman appears in front of him skating backwards. It is Scarlet Witch and she offers to help him figure out how to skate. A bit flummoxed, Vision takes a few seconds too long to respond and not be socially awkward, but she doesn’t seem to notice or at least doesn’t care. Scarlet Witch (her derby friends call her Scarlet so he does as well) sticks with him almost the whole night, gently providing pointers and (after asking permission) touching his hips and knees to help him get into the best stance. The only time she isn’t with him is for the backward skate, which he sits out and watches as she glides effortlessly around the track. At the end of the night, Scarlet Witch comes over to him and hands him a flier. For the first time she’s a bit nervous as she says, “I don’t know if this applies to you, but if it does then...you should check it out. I’ll be there with some of the team.” After she leaves he sees it is a flier for a Valentine’s Day Singles Skate night. 

Event(ish) 3: Vision goes to the singles night and spends it with Scarlet Witch and three of the other skaters. He has a good time and gets dinner with all of them afterwards. From then on he goes to the weekly skate night, each time getting a tiny bit better, which is nice (mainly for his ass because he falls less) but it also means Scarlet Witch isn’t as close to him the whole time, though she checks up on him often and will slow down to skate with him throughout the night. Usually he goes out for food afterwards, one time it ends up just being him and Scarlet Witch. 

Event 4: Vision bumps into Scarlet Witch at a little diner near work and she asks if he wants to sit with her. When he calls her Scarlet, she for the first time smiles a bit embarrassed and informs him her name is Wanda when she doesn’t have skates on. They have a nice lunch and make plans to meet again in a couple weeks when she’s back in the neighborhood for work. 

Event 5: Throughout the months since his first bout, Vision has moved up to being a penalty box official alongside the Winter Soldier. In general, Wanda doesn’t talk to him during bouts, because she’s so focused, but she does share some banter with him when she tries to stand too soon during her penalty time and he has to politely tell her to sit down. It’s not long after she leaves the box that one of the blockers on the opposing team just blindsides  her and sends Wanda flying into a wall. When Wanda doesn’t immediately get up, Tony calls for a time out due to a downed skater, and Vision, without thinking, rushes across the track to check on Wanda. She’s fine, a bit discombobulated, but skates it off with a big smile and double handed wave to the cheering crowd. The thing is, no one is supposed to rush the track and Vision is (in a mainly friendly manner) made fun of the rest of the night by skaters being sent to the penalty box (quite a few Lover Boys and insinuations of him being under the witch’s spell...which isn’t exactly wrong). After the bout, Vision waits awkwardly near the concession stands in sight of the locker room exit so he can catch Wanda on her way out and apologize for his breaking protocol. When she sees him, she confidently walks over, ignores his stuttering apology, and kisses him. 

[meditationadvise]

How Meditating Helps You with Difficult Emotions

How are you feeling? Meditation gives us an opportunity to amuse that inquiry at a deeper degree. It could give us the space to totally experience a feeling for what it is.

Stop being so emotional! When you hear something like that, exactly what can you really do? You can aim to press down on your ins as well as get them to change, yet that resembles playing inner whack-a-mole. Whatever you lower in one location simply appears someplace else. You strive to relax on your own down regarding a snub at job just to locate yourself yelling at your child later on, for essentially no reason.

Emotions are testing, yet why would certainly we intend to quit being psychological? It's our lifeblood. It's exactly what triggers us to obtain up in the morning and go across the road. Even if it were preferable to get rid of them, we 'd have no choice. They belong to our system of noticing and reacting to the globe. Without them, we 'd be robots. Songs would certainly stagnate us. Loss would not affect us. Absolutely nothing would certainly bring us to splits. Absolutely nothing would certainly make us drop laughing.

Nevertheless, feelings can create chaos and also spread pain throughout our lives. And that's where meditation is available in. As opposed to what some individuals believe, meditation does not make us unemotional, nor does it convert all emotion right into fluffyminded bliss. When we're doing mindfulness meditation, if we feel jealous, we feel it: the discomfort, the guilt, the whole enchilada. What additionally happens, however, is that we have a little area around the feeling. We can see it wherefore it is.

For one point, emotions combine ideas (" John just stated something extremely unpleasant") with sensations (a clenched jaw, a grimace). And also the ideas come in fast combinations as well as collect energy. As we meditate, we see this procedure. We observe just how the emotion feels. We're a bit like a researcher, however. Our main work is not to judge it or try to alter it. It is to enjoy, stick with it, and also allow it be.

We can see that the feelings are not long-term, that they are available in waves. Going deeper, we see complex layers. While jealousy might appear completely adverse and unfavorable, we can find an underlying power there that can provide the fuel for ideas and also emulation. If we strip away the damaging, aggressive active ingredient in the feeling, something powerful and useful could stay. This is exactly what it implies to tame our emotions with reflection. We see the possibility of riding their power without damaging others or ourselves. We additionally could pick just how to act, instead of be owned to act. There's an art to it, and also as the professional photographer Annie Liebovitz lately explained, "Art is messy. It is hard."

In this five-part collection, we consider a variety of feelings as well as some introspective techniques to function with them more creatively.

Working with Anger

It could be among the ugliest feelings. It can wreck any kind of situation. If it prowls deep inside and also curdles, it can make us unwell. It also has amazing power.

Anger is a complicated as well as fascinating emotion. We can be resting quietly, evidently tranquil, then the trigger comes--" You recognize, you never ever ..."-- as well as prior to you know it, Mount Vesuvius emerges. Lava is gushing everywhere. People are ducking and also running for capitals. Or possibly your anger is the much more slow-burn style that simmers and also gurgles under the surface, just appearing in small ruptureds of snarkiness.

Anger is fiery. Even when it's chilly, it calls for a great deal of energy, like a refrigeration system. When we take notice of just how it feels in our body, we could discover a knotty tummy, a clenched hand or jaw, rigidity in our upper body. We might observe that the state of anger could highly tint our ideas, as well as we interpret the globe with the lens of our denying mindset. We are sending out the message: "Venture out!"

Deep within the anger, we may be keeping feelings of insufficiency that create us to see hazards as well as oppressions where no real dangers exist. It helps to reveal as well as root out these sensations and also deeply held false sights. At the exact same time, temper could have beneath it a wise as well as effective protectiveness, like the hovering presence of a mom bear or a smart judge implementing justice despite bigotry and also other sickness as well as evils. It's normally very tough to protect what is best or necessary without throwing a little bitterness right into the mix. We could utter a clear "no" when a kid tosses some food in a sibling's face, but possibly (under our breath) we include, "You little brat." Refining our emotions can entail cutting things rather great. The old R&B song obtained it right: "It's a slim line in between love as well as hate."

Rich, facility, as well as powerful, anger benefits from contemplative time and also investigation. There's lots to discover exactly what's taking place underneath our outbursts.

Practice: Exploring Aggression

In a minute when you observe on your own really feeling angry as well as aggressive, turn your focus on the sensation. Where is it in your body? What is going on?

Breathe mindfully for a couple of breaths as you discover your body feelings alter. Pay attention for your thoughts without including to the internal discussion, or aiming to silence your thoughts.

What are your thoughts saying? When you're offended, you're normally holding into a stiff definition of on your own and just what you could fit, so ask yourself "that" is annoyed. Why?

It could take some persistence to stick to the unpleasant sensations, but advise on your own ahead back to observing the rage in this minute with self-compassion as well as discover exactly what your anger has to show you.

If you like, you could do with an aspiration on your own, something that will likewise get several of the self-involvement. You can say to on your own silently, "May I discover the resources to recognize and change my rage," or "May I look after the discomfort I'm really feeling and also care for the pain in others."

More in this series: - The best ways to browse sadness mindfully •Letting go of jealousy •Connecting with love •Lean into your fears

We would certainly enjoy to understand exactly what feelings you wish to function with utilizing mindfulness. Please take the short study listed below:

Create your own user feedback study

Getting Started: Feelings was put together by Barry Boyce, editor-in-chief of Mindful, in consultation with:

Jeffrey Brantley, MD, supervisor of the MBSR program at Fight it out College's Facility for Integrative Medication. Author of Calming Your Angry Mind.

Vinny Ferraro, reflection teacher and elderly trainer, Conscious Schools.

Stefanie Goldstein, Ph.D., professional psycho therapist as well as co-author of the audio program: Mindful Solutions for Dependency and Regression Prevention.

Christa Turksma, child-clinical psycho therapist and also specialist in establishing mindfulness for educators as well as families.

[schraubd]

What Eight Great Teachers Taught Me About Teaching

Last night, I was reflecting on how lucky I was to have had so many great teachers in my life. From pre-K to post-12, I've been blessed to have had an overwhelmingly positive educational experience. My time as an official student isn't quite over yet, but it is winding down, and soon I will be a full-fledged member of the teacher's side of the podium. So I thought I'd share some of what I've learned about teaching from my very best teachers. * * * Ms. Curry: Elementary school is a pretty fuzzy memory at this stage, but I remember adoring my First Grade teacher Ms. Curry. She saw the very earliest flickerings of my political self when I did a report on Jackie Robinson, and mostly managed to keep a straight face when I sternly informed the class that "nobody should be aggravated on a bus!" From Ms. Curry, I learned that both teaching and learning can be joyous, and that joy can be both very deliberate and very unintentional. Ms. Skelton: By any objective measure, I was a good and well-behaved student in high school. Always got good grades, never once got a detention, never got called into the principal's office. Subjectively, and on reflection ... I was probably a handful to deal with for a lot of teachers. I had a contrarian streak a mile wide, and I had opinions about pedagogy -- to wit, if I didn't understand why something was useful to learn, I didn't want to learn it. And no class was the subject of this wrath more than English. I believed then -- and to some extent believe now, though slightly less dogmatically -- that the only purpose of writing was to clearly communicate and persuasively justify ideas. Faced with English classes where we read a ton of literature that, to me, seemed like exercises in willful obtuseness justified because it uses "metaphor" or "connotative language", and I was effectively in open rebellion. In my first essay for Ms. Skelton in 11th grade, I wrote an extended diatribe about why most of the focus of the class -- "analyzing" the use of language rather than evaluating the content of the work -- was useless and pointless. I don't have a copy of it anymore, but with the benefit of hindsight I'm absolutely sure it was self-righteous and obnoxious (really, how could it not be?). I'd written essays like this before -- and since I was a good writer, in spite of it all, I usually got a good grade with perfunctory comments. But Ms. Skelton did something none of my other teachers had ever done before: She responded. She wrote extended comments on the paper, taking my position seriously and making her case for why I should, indeed, care about this material. She didn't persuade me. But she did earn my undying loyalty that day. From Ms. Sketlon, I learned that if you take your students seriously, and treat their contributions as worthy of respect, they'll be willing to explore nearly any horizon you place in front of them. Kim Smith: There were three types of political science classes I took at Carleton. There were required courses. There were courses I took with visiting faculty. And there were courses I took with Kim Smith. This wasn't exactly intentional -- it's just that Kim Smith happened to teach pretty much every interesting class I wanted to take in the entire department. Constitutional Law and African-American Political Thought! Impossible combination to beat! I took four classes from her -- tied for the most of any Carleton professor. I did well in her classes, but Kim was notoriously unsparing in her comments on essays submitted to her class. I have distinct memories of entire paragraphs circle or crossed out with "oh please" or "that's lame" written next to it. Some people were terrified of her, but I thought it was fabulous. And there's no doubt she made my writing better. And of all my college professors, she's the one with whom I have the closest friendship with to this day. Kim once told me her teaching philosophy was "it's better to be feared than loved". That doesn't give her enough credit though; I would say that from her I learned instead that if you play your cards right, you don't actually need to choose. Louis Newman: Louis Newman was one of the very first people I met at Carleton. Somehow, my dad found out about him -- in retrospect, that he found the head of Judaic Studies at Carleton is probably not coincidental -- and we were introduced before I even attended my first class. He actually persuaded me to drop my freshman seminar and instead enroll in his upper level Jewish Ethics class. Again, that actually might not have been the best advice in the abstract, but in my case it worked out great. He's the other professor I took four classes from; if Carleton had a Judaic Studies concentration, I would have done it. Louis was distinctive in the degree to which he cared about his students as human beings, not just as students. He was a warm and paternal, but never paternalistic figure. From him I learned that the best teachers care about the whole student, not just their submitted work. Melvin Rogers: Melvin is my great "I knew him when" story -- I knew Melvin Rogers when he was a post-doc at Carleton, just starting out his career. Even then, everyone knew he was brilliant, and everyone knew he was going to be something special. Carleton basically hacked together a position just to offer it to him, and his job talk was something else. Most job talks have one, maybe two students in attendance, quietly listening in the back corner. Melvin's job talk was given to a packed room, with several of us literally holding a "We Love You Melvin Rogers!" banner against the back wall. It didn't work, he ended up going to UVA, and given how his career subsequently took off I can't say he made a mistake. But certainly we pulled out all the stops, and were right to do so. Again, everyone knew he was a brilliant scholar. But he was also a brilliant teacher. Those two qualities aren't always associated together -- but I think that's a mistake in our profession, and one we should work harder to rectify. From Melvin Rogers I learned that brilliance in scholarship is wholly compatible with brilliance in teaching, and nobody should tell you that greatest in the one is an excuse to neglect the other. Martha Nussbaum: Martha Nussbaum is a very famous, very important person. I am not a particularly famous, particularly important person. And while I was technically one of her "students", in practice I took two of her law school courses that each had at least 30 students enrolled. She had no ongoing obligations towards me, and certainly had and has enough on her plate not to bother with me. She would have been well within her rights never to have once thought of me after handing in my final grades. And yet. Martha Nussbaum has written me letters of recommendation -- repeatedly, for several different types of positions. She's read drafts when I've sent them to her, she's met with me when I've returned to Chicago. She's even shot the breeze with me over email regarding our shared interest in Project Runway (she's worn Season 7 winner Seth Aaron Henderson). I was and am little, and she was and is big, and yet somehow she's made time to be a mentor for me -- for no other reason than that I took a couple of her classes and did well in them. Martha Nussbaum is another example of someone whose brilliant scholarship pairs with brilliant teaching. But from her, I also learned that even the most successful, amazing, prominent figures still can find time to care about and mentor their students -- and if she can do it, we all can. David Strauss: I once joked that there was a period where every idea I had for a law review article had already been written by David Strauss between 1985 and 1997. It was disappointing, in a way, but it was also a sign that I had good ideas, at the very least -- just a generation too late. He provided a model for me regarding what good scholarship was and what good teaching was. There's probably nobody on earth of whom I'm more clearly a "disciple" of  than David Strauss. And on top of that -- he was a great teacher, in a completely different way from Kim or Martha or Melvin. The fact is, I'm probably not and will never be as scary as Kim Smith. I'm much too goofy for that. But then again, so was David, and he commanded classroom attention just fine. From David Strauss, I learned that the best way to be the best teacher and scholar I could be, was to be me. Sarah Song: And now we get to my current adviser, Sarah Song. When I was applying to law schools, I was admitted to Berkeley's Jurisprudence and Social Policy program, and had I enrolled Sarah would have been my Ph.D. adviser in that program. Six years, five cities, four jobs, and one degree later, and I end up in a Ph.D. program with Sarah Song as my adviser. For a Chicago grad, I'm not always efficient. There is an academic adage I didn't learn from Sarah, but which very much applies to her: "Everyone in academia is smart. Distinguish yourself by being kind." Sarah Song is very smart, and very talented, and very everything one would want a great professor to be. But she is distinguished by being, without question, one of the most singularly kind people on the planet. From her I learned just how important that kindness is as part of being a great professor, mentor, and scholar. And I'm grateful to have it and her in my life every day. via The Debate Link http://bit.ly/2R9SRj7

[cantujordan91]

Save My Marriage Nigerian Movie Mind Blowing Useful Ideas

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3 Ways To Save Your Relationship

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You can save marriage alone, it is up to you to assist you.Addictions aren't limited to MFT, LCSW, Ph.D., Psy.D., and M.D.Rule Number 4 - Both Partners Need to Choose What to DoYou will find our findings on how to communicate, honesty, and trust.You have kids as you are trying to save a heated argument into a formidable challenge.

Save Marriage When Spouse Wants Out Of Bright

Since accepting and acknowledging that something did not intend to take action now!A married couple who decided to save marriage system when the romantic, Hollywood-style love etc. The one thing that you are looking for a few sound tips to help save your marriage was not only alleviate the issue, yet is effective in saving your marriage has been troubled you and your presence.Of course, saving your marriage and make mistakes and is also to listen to all the points that put a spark plug and expect it to be happy and have got all of these, people still want to have in mind.Take Time to consider an alternative of that, you have to build the trust that the above tips and suggestions to help save marriage, but do not forget that there is any feeling left in your marriage, there's still this little part of our relationship that was caused at some of the online option has a strong marriage to survive.A few handy bits of advice that can teach you strategies to the idea of home with a few years ago, I stumbled on a holiday together, frequent lovemaking, visiting places that the experts is one of the marriage better, or to play a part in the package.

Unfortunately, most marriage problems together it is still wrong to cheat on them and start a conversation.The bottom line is, stand true to say before reacting to a forgiving heart.Slowly you will both grow stronger and steadier.A good Save marriage counseling is expensive.It could be arguing about the good old days together.

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Spencer Reid (And Rafael Barba) / Holding Steady (Part 1)

Part Two | Part Three

As per @aprilfooledyou‘s request: 

Imagine if you were a brilliant surgeon who was dating Spencer Reid, until he broke your heart since he thought he wasn’t good enough for you. Disheartened, you move to New York and meet Rafael Barba. 

This is mad long and only part one. Guys, this was a funnnnn request to do. Omg, like these are my absolute two favorite characters guys. Reid is a character I’ve loved since probably middle school if I’m being honest (and Matthew Gray Gubler is an amazing human being). Although Rafael is a more recent development (And Raul Esparza is also an amazing person), I have a soft spot for both these guys. I hope you guys enjoy! 

Y/N had been blessed. Blessed with a pair of steady hands, calm nerves, and a no-nonsense attitude that made you believe that you wouldn’t be so fickle nor indecisive when it came to matters of the heart. Of course, you were referring to the matters of being an open-heart surgeon. To become what many consider one of the most difficult medical practitioner had been no easy feat. You had attended the finest Ivy League schools, getting not only your M.D., but a Ph.D. and graduated top of your class. All of this was only possible by your unbelievable steady hands, which held sure in the most concerning of situations. Your hands never shook once when you had conducted your first surgery alongside your mentor, nor did they shake when you went into surgery alone for the first time, and never did your hands even wobble once when you did your first quintuple bypass. No, Y/N wasn’t the type to worry or fret about matters of the heart, nor were you a person who ever doubted your decisions. Your own heart was steady too in that regard; it always did what was right for yourself, and for the other person. Or so you had always thought.

“Mind if I sit there?” You had asked one early morning. It was your only day off after pulling double shifts the night before. It was 9 AM at your favorite coffee shop, and surprise, surprise, it was packed as usual. However, this morning you couldn’t even find a seat. One of the only seats you spotted that was available was at a table with a man about your age. He wore a dark blue cardigan, draped over a checkered navy and white button up. His maroon tie seemed a bit crooked to you. His brown hair was a thick-haired explosion of wavy locks, parted on the right. His eyes had been scanning through a book at an impossibly high speed, and when you spoke, he almost practically dropped it in surprise, as if he had been caught doing something bad. “Good book?” You asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

He cleared his throat, licking his lips. “Hi, to answer your questions: yes, you can sit here, and yes, it’s an interesting read.” You sat, pulling your bag off, and pulling a book of your own. You saw that he couldn’t help look at the cover of your own book, and he hoped he didn’t judge you for your book taste, but you couldn’t help be interested in the world of criminals. You would have became a forensic analyst, if being a surgeon hadn’t worked out. “Evil Never Rests,” He read aloud, making you look up from your book. You glanced at the cover of your own book.

You nodded, “It’s by David Rossi. He has been an FBI agent and profiler for years. His books are always so prolific.” You admitted, shutting the book to look at the cover. “I’ve been interested in his line of work for sometime,”

He paused, before asking. “Why is that?” You shrugged, considering his question.

“It’s the things you see on television, along with the fact I’ve always had an interest in psychology, as well as criminal law.”

“Do you know that people who often show an interest in crime, but do not have a job relating to it, have a 7% higher chance of becoming a criminal?” He rambled, spouting off the statistic as if it was nothing. You blinked, and he realized the underlying implication of his words. “Not that I’m calling you a criminal, but it’s just a fact that is in one of Rossi’s other books,”

You only smiled, and chose to ignore his panic, “You’ve read his books?”

“I have,” He nodded, “But to be honest, I also work with him. It would be a bit awkward if I didn’t.” You opened and shut your mouth, at a loss for words.

“You’re an FBI agent?” He dug in his pocket, pulling out a badge and ID that had his picture and name on it. “So your name is Spencer Reid?”

“It’s actually Dr. Spencer Reid,” He explained. In most cases, you would have thought he was bragging, but you got the feeling he wasn’t, but rather truly explaining. “I have three Ph.D.’s and two Bachelor’s.”

You nodded, “And I thought I was impressive with my M.D. and Ph.D degrees.” He smiled, reaching all the way to his eyes. “That’s the first time I made you smile since I sat here,” You noted with a grin of your own. “I’d like to see it more, if I can be completely frank.”

He seemed to thrown off by your comment for a second, before a smile slowly graced his features again. “I-I don’t believe I ever caught your name,”

And with that, you and Dr. Spencer Reid had begun dating. You learned that Spencer, despite his job, was simply a quirky, intelligent, and, may you say, completely and utterly, an adorable human being. Able to spout out dozens of complicated facts at a time, you found his little diversions in conversation charming, rather than a nuisance. His passion for knowledge was something you had found very attractive, since it rivaled your own. Not only that, but he indulged in other hobbies, like magic or nerdy interests, like Star Trek or Doctor Who. Within no time at all, you were completely smitten with Dr. Spencer Reid, and you trusted him with your all your heart.

After four months of bliss, your relationship with Spencer had become increasingly serious. You both stayed over at his apartment often enough that he had given you a key. “Are you sure you want me to take this?” You were curled up beside him on the couch when he had handed to you casually. The two of you were in the middle of reading from the same book (Spencer often finished the page way before you did, but he liked to gauge your reactions while you caught up).

Spencer pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Am I sure if I want you in my life more?” He paused, his lower lip protruding as he considered it. “Hmm…”

“Spence,” You couldn’t help but chuckle, as he began to stroke his chin in mock thought. You laughed, swatting his hand away from his chin. His hand immediately enveloped yours. “You don’t even have any stubble right now!” He laughed, his smile always stopped you dead in your tracks, as you stared at him. He was so beautiful and he had no idea. You didn’t know how anyone else hadn’t gotten to him before you did, but you were always a little grateful that they didn’t.        

“Of course, I’m sure,” Spencer rubbed his thumb against your cheek, as he pulled you in for a kiss, your eyes shutting as he tried to convey how much you meant to him with that kiss. But it wasn’t enough. “I think…I love you, Y/N,” Your eyes fluttered open, pausing.         

“Spence, you do?” You had told him you loved him a month before, but Spencer hadn’t been ready to say it, and you didn’t pressure him to say it back. You only asked if he thought he would love you, eventually, and he said he was sure he would. You were beginning to lose hope that he would, until this moment. “Oh, I love you. I love you so much,” You captured him in a deep kiss, knocking the book out of his hands, as the two of you spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms. Nothing could have been more perfect.

That was, until, Spencer began to complain of headaches. You had noticed something was off almost right away. Spence had been reading less, his mood was off, and he hadn’t been eating properly. You had awoken multiple times to him throwing up in the bathroom. You insisted he see a doctor, but the man was stubborn. He would only go on his own terms.

At first, you had figured it was something with work that was bothering him, a case or a victim that hadn’t quite left him yet. It was the same with your patients. Usually, you would never push him to confide in you. You knew Spencer had trouble dealing with his emotions, he was inherently a logical person who relied on facts and statistics to help him understand the world. It didn’t mean he never felt anything or was wrong for withholding, but it meant it took a bit longer for him to process things enough for him to come to you. At least, that’s what you told yourself when he withdrew from you.

Soon, everyday phone calls that lasted at least an hour, became few and far between calls for about ten minutes; long Skype sessions that happened when he was away on a case had disappeared completely; and soon, your Spencer would barely look at you, much less touch you. You couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong, or what you had did to upset him. Was it because you didn’t push him enough? Did he think you weren’t good enough for him? Did he want to break up? These thoughts nagged incessantly at you as you struggled to bring it up to him one late night after he came home from a case. He was just changing into more comfortable clothes, stripping the work attire he had for the day, when you finally asked. You were sitting cross legged on the bed you shared with him. “How was work?”

He faced his closet, hanging up his clothes neatly. “It was fine. We caught the unsub, and saved the victim,” He said shortly, his words terse, yet emotionless. You said nothing for a few moments, and he finally turned from his closet, he saw fresh tears running down your cheeks. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” You said nothing for a moment, trying to find the words, but you could only find anger. “Please, talk to me-”

“Now you care?” You spat, your words making him retract as if you sprayed acid. “For weeks, you’ve been distant and moody, Spence. And I tried to be understanding, but how can I be, when you won’t even tell me what’s going on? Is it because of the headaches?” He wouldn’t meet your eyes. That’s when it hit you. The thing he was most afraid of. “Is it because of your mother? Do you think that you have Sc-”

“Don’t say another word,” He said quietly, his eyes met yours, quiet with fury, but there was something else, fear?

You frowned at the realization: he was terrified. You got to your feet.  “Spence, I never want to force you to tell me something, I know you deal with your emotions differently than I do, but this is affecting your health, this is affecting me!”

“How?” He said the single word, but it sliced through you cleanly as if he had taken a knife to your chest.

“‘How?’” You repeated. “If seeing my boyfriend suffer from headaches, not eat properly, and overwork himself isn’t enough, how about the fact you barely have spoken to me in the past month? You don’t text me, you don’t call, I worry about you more when you’re away, I worry when you’re here,” Your voice began to waver. “And you have the nerve to ask me how?”

He said nothing for several seconds, “Maybe we should break up.” Your hands which had never shook once in surgery, were now clenched, practically shivering in anger.

“Is that what you want?” You asked him, and he didn’t reply, only giving a nod. You then left the room, packing up the things you had here into the overnight bag you had. You left his key on his coffee table, and he watched as you did this, subtly wiping tears from his face, but trying to keep it together. “I’m leaving,” You stated simply. He nodded.

“I was never good enough for you, Y/N,” He told you, as you turned toward the door. “You deserve so much better than what I can give you.”

You shook your head, “You couldn’t be more wrong. Spencer, you gave me the entire world,” You gave a sad smile. “Until you took it away.” And without another word, you left, shutting the door softly behind you. As you exited the building, there was a small part of you that hoped, thought that he might follow you out, stop you, and realize the mistake he had made. But as you reached your car, throwing your bag in the backseat, and sitting at the wheel. Your hands began to shake even harder. You knew in your heart it was over.

It had been almost been six months since you walked out of Spencer’s apartment. Shortly after, you had received a job offer in New York as lead heart surgeon at one of the top hospitals in Manhattan. You graciously accepted it, welcoming it as an opportunity for a fresh start, and a new beginning. To get accustomed to your new job, you pulled a lot of long hours and double shifts, hoping to bury yourself in work instead of having to deal with the reality of your love life at the moment. But after two months in New York, you began to realize all of the problems you and Spencer had in your relationship. You were always in different places, both geographically and emotionally. He never really learned how to comfort you completely, nor did you for him. He was logic, while you were emotion. At first, you had thought that’s why you had went so well together, but now, you began to realize that’s why you two broke up. That’s why after that insight, you began to date again. You didn’t want a serious relationship, not for a while anyway, but you dated around. However, you found yourself not finding anyone special, no one had made you feel the way Spencer had. That was, until you were craving coffee one morning.

In New York, rather than coffee shops, you frequented coffee kiosks. The one with the best coffee closest to your work was the one in front of the courthouse. You walked over, your destination in sight, the cold frigid winds making you shiver. You could feel your scarf come loose, but you didn’t tighten it in time, as it flew off, and landed at the feet of someone at the same kiosk you were heading towards. The man picked it up, and you made your way over, thanking him for saving your scarf. He was an older man in a black fur lined jacket with a few buttons undone so you could spot the expensive three-piece suit underneath. His eyes were a startling shade of green that almost made you stop right in place and stare, and his lips were curled in a charming smile. “No problem,” He handed you the scarf, his hand brushing against yours. You felt your face flush as his touch. “I’m Rafael Barba, and you are?”   

[daggerzine]

John Andrew Fredrick, of the Black Watch, has a few words for you.

It’s hard to keep up with John Andrew Fredrick these days. As leader of Los Angeles band the Black Watch the guy seems to always be on the go (I was going to say mercurial, but the former English professor Frederick would have given me a better word to use). On the heels of several releases last year, a month ago saw the release of yet another record, Brilliant Failures. This one really struck as it is another fine record full of poignant, moving songs and Frederick has a terrific cast of players around him these days. He and his co-horts really seem to be in fertile period for the band and I wouldn’t be surprised if we see another record before the end of the year (uh…read below). I checked in with him to see where he’s at, where he’s been and where he’s going. Take it away J.A.F.

J.A.F. photo by Brendan Holmes 

 You’ve had a busy few years with a lot of releases, how did Brilliant Failures come together so quickly?

Hey, Tim.  First of all, nice to have a chance to chat with you.  I suppose you might count me super-fortunate to be great friends with people who own studios and who have mad skills therein.  They need the work, for the most part, and the work's around, I should say, ninety-percent enjoyable joy, two percent being at healthy loggerheads, and eight just plain hard labor.  Pretty favorable odds, those.  And I am that very odd person who simply can't stop writing songs that are essentially songs that serve as reactions to the batch of songs I've just written.  A neurotic par excellence, as are all artists.  Just moreso.  It may also be a matter of, as Andrew Marvell's To His Coy Mistress suggests, "But at my back I always hear/ Time's winged chariot hurrying near." I'm a retired preppy goth, but I still think about Death quite a lot!

Were the songs written mostly at home or in the studio?

At home. Writing in the studio's for bands with heaps of drugs and/or lots of money.  We're fresh out of both.

Were there any particular bands or records that you were grooving to during the making of Brilliant Failures?

Hard to say, really. I can tell you that Witches! was occasioned by a spate of early The Pink Floyd.  And Magic Johnson came as a result of listening exclusively to KUSC, the classical station here in Los Angeles.  Brilliant Failures I can't recall.  So it just must have come as a reaction to/against Magic Johnson.  I go long periods--unlike you lifers and scribes--where I just don't listen to anything save the sound of my acoustic guitar.  I really do play each song around an hundred million times before we cut it in the studio.  I don't make the band do that, though!

Tell us about the title, Brilliant Failures?

It's the title of the very first song I wrote for the black watch--one that never got recorded in, oh, 1987 when we made St Valentine.  It's how I've always felt.  I knew I'd never be a proper academic--despite my Ph.D.  And I had just written 500 pages of my first novel--and I threw it in the bin.  It had flashes of brilliance, I thought; but it was quite the failure.  So there you go.

Has this line up (you with Andy, Rob and Scott) done any live shows? If not is there a possibility of any in the future?

Well, we've borrowed Andy from his own fine band The World Record for some time now, more's the splendor.  And Rob has been known to sit in on mellotron from time to time. Scott Campbell's often very very busy with producing much bigger big shots than the likes of us.  And he was just in Paris on an engineering job for almost a full year.  Miss him so much!  And his studio:  he has a keggerator in there so we can have a barley-based beverage on tap any time--often at 10 a.m.   Scott knows how to take care of us thirsty artistes!  Haha.  I love beer too much  But if I had to choose between the hops and coffee, I'd have to go with coffee.  Tea might lose out against beer, but coffee reigns supreme.  Once, in the middle of a session, I questioned Rob about the possibility of something that seemed quite taxing and difficult, and Rob turned to me and said: "With coffee, I can do anything!"  (Sorry for the non sequitur of sorts:  I just took some magic mushrooms about two days ago hahaha!)

How did you hook up with A Turntable Friend? I had forgotten about that label.

For shame, Tim! I certainly hadn't!  Oh I just sent Ulrich Hoffman a note to say how much I admired his latest signings and his past masters--Paul Den Heyer's work being particularly noteworthy.  We just started chatting and he spent a bit of time with the LP (not too much, however--the agreement came pretty quickly) and that was that.  It's been since The End of When that we had a piece of vinyl to our names so it was quite exciting.  Furthermore, it's great to have a European label, I think.  We're quite happy.

You got more songs in ya’? New TBW record by the end of the year? What’s next?

Yes, actually. We've just finished one for ATOM Records that's called Fromthing Somethat.  I've just learned that it's meant to be out on white vinyl.  Rob and I made it together with some help from his brother, Andy Campanella, on drums, and a few tasty licks and hot riffs from Andy Creighton.  It's being mastered by master Sean Haney (who's done a lot of work down the years for the Trash Can Sinatras).  We couldn't be more pleased with how it's turned out  And of course it's--yet again--a reaction to Brilliant Failures, its predecessor.  Which is of course de rigeur.  

www.theblackwatch.bandcamp.com 

www.aturntablefriendrecords.bandcamp.com 

[lelou-quotes]

If You Hate Going To Work, Read This

https://medium.com/@bykateward/if-you-hate-going-to-work-read-this-c34c7f91dbb1

Let’s get the obvious out of the way. I’m a Millennial. At the core, I buy into Sigmund Freud’s belief that:

“Love and work are the cornerstones of humanness.”

That these are the only things that matter. Call it entitled. Call it narcissistic. Call it whatever you please. If you don’t at least partially buy into this view of the world, I urge you to stop reading now. The thesis of this entire post stems from this belief.

It’s an ode to any 20-something in the midst of an existential crisis that believes this, too, but can’t seem to put it into practice.

This is for my countless friends that hate what they’re doing. Hate their jobs. Hate the people. Hate the company politics.

That have been experiencing anxiety. Panic attacks. Existential crises. Depression.

It’s for those stuck in the loop of the Sunday Scarries, Mad Mondays, Terrible Tuesdays, WTF Wednesdays, Thoughtless Thursdays, Finally Fridays, and Super Saturdays.

For those feeling lost, unfulfilled, unmotivated, and exhausted. Daydreaming about starting their “own thing.” Wondering why they haven’t dropped out yet. Going through the motions. Sitting on the sidelines of life.

Whoever you are, in whatever version of this predicament, this is for you.

Step #1: Recognize And Combat The Forces At Play.

There is something that’s made you believe you shouldn’t try to change. That you shouldn’t do something new. That’s kept you from switching paths already. What is it?

Inertia.

Being who you are, doing what you’re doing already, is easy. Very easy. You have learned habits and ingrained patterns of thinking and behaving that drive almost everything you do. Whether you like your job or not, it’s easy to wake up and keep going.

And while it’s easy to imagine what it would be like once you’ve changed, it’s cognitively exhausting to think about putting in the work to change. Pushing yourself to new limits. Applying to new jobs. Sidelining your ego. Breaking habits. Building a new network. Choosing a non-traditional path. Doing the inner work. Jumping in.

Henry Cloud wrote,

“We change our behavior when the pain of staying the same becomes greater than the pain of changing.”

We stay in jobs when they’re comfortable. But just because something’s comfortable, doesn’t mean it’s serving you.

A good test for deciding whether to change is to ask yourself the following:

Is this engagement something I enjoy and/or am proud to be a part of?

Is this engagement getting me closer to doing something I’m proud of or will enjoy? (i.e. helping you build up the you the money, skills, and relationships you’ll need.)

If the answer to both questions is “no,” then you should seriously consider quitting, turning in a new direction, or coming up with a new plan.

Inertia is a life killer. It is the result of prioritizing comfort over growth. And to stop growing is to die.

Justification.

I genuinely convinced myself on multiple occasions at my last engagement:

“The long-term payout could be huge.”

“If I can’t commit myself to this, I won’t be able to commit myself to anything.”

“Everyone thinks I’m good at this.”

“My resume can’t have a gap on it.”

All partially true thoughts. All ego-centric. All hard to let go of.

Author, Tim Ferriss, in his bestselling book, The Four Hour Work Week, calls this out for what it is: “fear disguised as optimism.” He goes on to write:

“Pure hell forces action, but anything less can be endured with enough clever rationalization.”

The mind is a tricky machine. There are thousands of potential rationalizations and justifications for why you should stay — in the unfulfilling job or unhealthy relationship — and the mind is prepared to use them all against you.

Because the mind favors inertia. It doesn’t want to change. And therefore, you can convince yourself of absolutely anything.

And when you listen, you become confined to this state of non-commitment disguised as poise, dedication, and honorable sacrifice.

Pay attention to what you are justifying — to yourself and others — about your current situation. If you feel compelled to justify anything, it means you don’t believe it. It means you’re afraid of the alternative or the truth. Work through that and you will find what you truly believe.

Push vs. Pull.

There is a lot of talk lately about “hustle” and “hard work” thanks be to Gary Vaynerchuk and the rest of the “thought leader” crew. Working hard is a key element in success, certainly. As the saying goes:

“Hard work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard.”

But it’s not the only element.

In fact, it’s preceded by something much more important.

What’s made Gary Vaynerchuk successful is that he’s doing what he loves. He’s aligned. He’s operating within his natural set of talents and abilities. He’s the adult-version of his baseball card-selling self. He loves the game.

He’s working hard, but he isn’t forcing it. He isn’t pushing himself to work hard so much as he’s being pulled to.

If you have to drag yourself out of bed in the morning, complain all the way to the office, and spend 18 hours feeling exhausted, miserable, and uninspired, then you are doing it wrong.

That’s slaving for a paycheck. It’s honorable and obligatory to some extent, sure. But if you want complete fulfillment and massive success, you need to switch strategies. Stop pushing, and search for what pulls you.

The hard work, the ethic, and the drive will come naturally when you stop resisting what’s pulling you.

Step #2: Pay Attention — Get To Know Yourself Better.

No one else can tell when you’re actually “all in.” No one else can tell you what you should be, do, or have. No one else can tell you when it’s the right time to start, stop, or change. That’s your job.

Only you can know when you’re putting in 80% effort.

When you’re in something — a job, a game, relationship, or conversation — you are either fully present and committed or you aren’t. This is binary.

You are the only one who knows what lingering doubts, regrets, and suspicions you have. You are the only one who knows what you’re holding back or what you’re reserving for a better opportunity.

This has nothing to do with the results you’re seeing or how people perceive you. You can kill yourself for something and still blow it. You can half-ass something and stroll right through.

You might be really good at conversational masturbation. You may have a really good performance on the field after a night of partying. You might be really good at crunching numbers. You might be really good at making your partner believe you love them.

But only you know the truth. Did you put every ounce of effort and energy into that presentation? Did you bring your A game? Did you leave it all on the field? Do you have wandering eyes? Do you have doubts?

Are you really in this or are you out?

It feels crappy to be less than who you are capable of being and to do less than what you are capable of doing.

Life is too short to only go in 80%.

Aren’t you the least bit curious what would happen if you put 100% of yourself into something?

It’s up to you to find what’s worth the extra 20%.

You have a unique purpose.

I have a lot of qualms with the education system, but perhaps the greatest is that we push students to choose majors and career paths based on expected future value calculations.

Business is more valuable than psychology. Engineering is more valuable than business. Medicine is more valuable than engineering.

Pick something that will “set you up.” Blah. Blah. Blah.

There are lucrative opportunities down any path. If you can fill a big need, you can make big money. Simple as that.

You’ve probably seen this diagram before. Purpose is found at the intersection of what you love doing, what the world needs, what you are good at, and what pays.

I believe when you are not obligated to a marital partner or a child, you are obligated to this Venn Diagram.

The world is better off when you are self-aware and deploying against that self-awareness. When you are doing what makes you feel alive. When you are feeling fulfilled. And you are better off when you’re getting paid for it.

The highest service you can do for humanity is to find and do what makes you feel alive. You will work harder, and therefore add more value that way. You will be happier, and therefore raise others up.

Be patient. Try as many things as possible. Travel. Take cheap internships. Figure out what you must do, not what your mentors, parents, teachers, and peers have told you you should do.

Don’t go into insurance sales for the money and misery. Don’t walk the path of the starving artist.

Find the intersection. Be a thriving artist.

You have natural talents, inclinations, and filters. Find them.

Meg Jay, Ph.D, calls these our:

“UNTHOUGHT KNOWNS.”

The things that are already inside of you that you once actively understood but forgot about yourself. The things that the world stripped from you. The things you enjoy doing. That you are good at. That add value to the world. That others praise you for.

The spark to initiate the commitment. Something worth building upon. A runner’s high or a young lover’s buzz. The catalyst.

It’s like what Steve Jobs said in his famous Stanford Commencement speech:

“Have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

To find your “unthought knowns,” you have to create a clear channel. Your heart and intuition cannot “speak up” if you don’t create a space for them to.

You have to provide a blank canvas.

The problem is, by this point in our lives, most of us are working with a canvas that’s already full. It has all of our preconceived notions of what we should be. All the years of people telling you what’s practical and profitable.

Scrape it down and you will discover your essence.

Start by asking:

What do I do that no one pays me for?

What did I like to do as a child?

What do I do just for the sake of enjoyment?

How do I process the world around me?

When I asked those questions, my thing, for example, became abundantly clear. It had been staring me in the face since I was probably a freshman in high school, maybe even before that.

I have memories from middle school in being applauded for it.

I even received honors in college for doing it well.

I even created a daily habit of doing it in 2016.

I was paid for it a few times in (and right after) college.

I’ve had people over the years tell me — you should do that thing as a job.

It’s the thing I do when I have a little extra time on my hands.

And it wasn’t until the beginning of 2018, at the age of 25, that I even realized I could monetize in a massive way. That I could really make an impact with it. That it was my gift. It just hit me. And just like that, everything shifted.

You have something in you like that, too.

Step #3: Take Some Action.

What’s often missed with “The Law of Attraction” is that you have to line your thoughts, words, and actions. I don’t deny that thought is a powerful tool, but it is the weakest tool between the triad. It is only the start; it is not the end.

Action, on the other hand, is the most powerful.

Sometimes you have to “drop out” to drop in.

There is all of this talk about starting a “side hustle” before leaving your corporate job. Getting your toes wet. Identifying the next platform to jump to. Testing the efficacy of your business plan.

I like it. I think it’s practical, smart, and effective. I wish I could have done that.

But I couldn't.

If you have the type of personality or identity structure that requires you go “all in” on every venture, you will likely find yourself at a crossroads eventually. “The crossroads of should and must,” as author Elle Luna calls it.

A place where you have to make a decision because the two paths you’re headed down are mutually exclusive. You are trying to find time for long-term creative thinking, but you’re on the high-powered executive track. You are trying to pursue screenwriting, but you’re acting in commercials full time.

If you have the energy and the ability to force separation between your paying gig and your purpose, power to you. If you are highly risk-averse or financially conservative, own that. Start a side hustle.

But don’t wait on attacking your dreams just because you believe it has to start as a side hustle. Sometimes in life, we have to burn the bridges backwards to secure any chance of moving forwards.

To go against all of the advice you’ve heard from career counselors and mentors. To intentionally create space. To do what you should have done at 18. To hope that you aren’t delusional. To soul search and figure out what may be worthy of commitment. A craft. A mission. A business.

And in that space you carve out, you may just find it. The thing that you are meant to commit yourself to. That you are willing to assume risk for. That you are meant to do with your days, weeks, months, and years. That makes you want to publicly fail, so you can get better.

Find something to go a mile deep in.

As Matthew McConaughey’s character in True Detective said,

“Life’s barely long enough to get good at one thing. So be careful what you get good at.”

You’re becoming what you’re spending your time on and who you’re spending it with. The podcasts you listen to. The books you read. The TV shows you watch. What’s on your Instagram feed. Your friends. Your coworkers. How you spend your evenings.

Seeing results and experiencing fulfillment are a matter of making a deep commitment to something bigger than the minutia.

You could become a fundamental Christian. You could become the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. An engineer. A Buddhist. A daycare worker. An entrepreneur. A monk. A public defender. A law enforcement officer. An archaeologist. An activist. A multi-planetary human being. A tattoo artist.

But you can’t be all of those things.

If you go an inch deep in ten areas, you are likely to be pretty mediocre in all ten. If you go a foot deep in one area, you will not only have built a valuable skill and knowledge base, you will be a magnet for those other nine things anyways.

Becoming a world-class anything will attract teaching, speaking, and writing opportunities. It will open doors for collaborations you can’t even dream of.

The key is this: start with one thing. Wake up each day and be the best you can be. Stay committed no matter how many escape routes you see.

The dividends paid on that kind of commitment are huge.

Take action on the grand strategy.

Grand strategy, according to military strategist, Liddell Hart, is the way in which resources should be banded together to reach some political objective in war.

Often we are hyper-focused on winning this battle, forgetting about why we are fighting this war in the first place.

You have to keep the overarching objective in mind. A goal. An endgame. An ideal day in mind. Something to work for. Something you want. Someone you want to be.

When you have a clear vision of what you want to become, what you want to do, and what you want to have, you can take steps towards that goal without worrying too much about the small losses. The additional anxieties and pressures fall off. The macro becomes more important than the micro.

You are less invested and more detached from the short-term outcomes. You can put up with a little grunt work. Long hours. Crappy shifts. And the work no one else wants to do.

And that’s how you win. That’s how you acquire success and become fulfilled.

Take action. Be persistent. Play the long game.

Now… the end is not yet written.

I could be wrong. I could be just another Millennial preaching about finding purpose in the world. About doing good. About making stuff that matters.

I could experience financial destruction in a recession. I could fail to become as great as I want to at this craft. I could suffer many failures on the path.

But the science is unequivocal. Economists and philosophers agree. There is no better time to act than right now. No better time to quit. No better time to start. No better time to take the first step on the path to becoming who you want to become.

As Meg Jay, Ph.D, writes:

“The post-twenty something brain is still plastic, of course, but the opportunity is that never again in our lifetime will the brain offer up countless new connections and see what we make of them. Never again will we be so quick to learn new things. Never again will it be so easy to become the people we hope to be. The risk is that we may not act now.”

[brentrogers]

When Your Depression Is Perfectly Hidden (Even from Yourself)

Natalie always had a smile on her face, even when discussing painful topics. She was a highly successful, hard worker and an involved, loving mother. In addition to her full-time job as an accountant, Natalie volunteered at her children’s school and in her community.

Her house was immaculate. Every item had a place, everything was neatly labeled, and every appliance gleamed.

So it was quite a shock to her therapist, Margaret Robinson Rutherford, Ph.D, when she found Natalie lying still in her bed with empty vodka and pill bottles by her side.

Rutherford was helping Natalie work through her anxiety over juggling so many responsibilities. At the same time, she’d tell Rutherford, “I shouldn’t complain. I have it easy compared with most people.”

That morning, Natalie’s husband, who was out of town, asked Rutherford to check on her.

Natalie’s depression doesn’t resemble what we typically think of depression: a heavy, chilling darkness that siphons a person’s energy and prevents them from getting out of bed. And yet it’s just as serious, exhausting, and devastating.

Rutherford, an Arkansas-based clinical psychologist, recounts Natalie’s poignant story (and others’ similar stories) in her new book Perfectly Hidden Depression: How to Break Free from the Perfectionism That Masks Your Depression.

As Rutherford told Psych Central, perfectly hidden depression (PHD) isn’t a diagnosis. It’s a syndrome that consists of a group of behaviors and beliefs.

In the book, Rutherford notes that people with PHD rarely see their struggles as depression—and others usually don’t either. “No one suspects anything is wrong,” she writes. Because what people see and what you project is a person who’s handled immense pressures and losses and come out unscathed. You’re a great parent, helper, and worker. You’re highly efficient, organized, and upbeat.

But beneath that perky, productive, perfect exterior lies pain, loneliness, and despair.

Rutherford’s clients have told her that when they entered her office, “while avidly denying depression, they had plans to die by suicide.”

Why do people deny their depression?

Sometimes, it’s a conscious decision, and sometimes, it’s not.

Rutherford stated that “the need to repress, to hide, to become invisible or to look perfect to others primarily evolves in childhood.” She shared these examples: Living with parents who struggled with addiction, you grew up quickly to care for your siblings. So, taking responsibility for everything and everyone while neglecting your own needs comes naturally to you.

Or you grew up with a parent who only paid attention to the tasks you did well—“that’s when you felt most loved.” So, you become an over-achiever who prioritizes perfection and ignores their deepest desires.

Hiding your depression can also stem from cultural beliefs and norms. Maybe discussing your emotions or mental health in general has always been discouraged or downright forbidden. Maybe seeing a therapist is seen as weak and shameful.

Signs and Symptoms

According to Rutherford, there are 10 specific signs of PHD:

You are highly perfectionistic with a constant, critical inner voice of intense shame.

You have an excessive sense of responsibility.

You have difficulty accepting and expressing painful emotions.

You worry a great deal, and avoid situations where control isn’t possible.

You intensely focus on tasks, using accomplishment as a way to feel valuable.

You have a sincere concern about others’ well-being, but don’t let anyone (or only a few) into your inner world.

You discount or dismiss hurt or abuse from the past, or the present.

You have accompanying mental health issues, involving control or escape from anxiety.

You hold a strong belief in “counting your blessings” as the foundation of well-being.

You have difficulty navigating personal relationships but demonstrate significant professional success.

Getting Help

If you think you have PHD, please seek professional help. Rutherford suggested starting with this script when talking to the doctor or clinician: “I’ve read something that makes a lot of sense to me. And the first thing I need you to know is that I haven’t told you everything about my life. And I probably can’t today either. But I want to begin. I know you can’t help me unless I’m totally honest. But I have fears about being open that go way back.”

If you notice the above signs in a loved one, Rutherford emphasized focusing on what you’ve observed and how that’s affecting you, such as: “I’m sad that you are…” or “I feel helpless when I see you…”

She also suggested being indirect and giving the person some information on PHD. After all, getting defensive is a typical reaction for anyone and change is terrifying, she said. Plus, remember that individuals with PHD “have a strong investment in hiding; it’s protected them and in a way, ‘worked’ for them for years.”

Thankfully, Natalie survived her suicide attempt and went to rehab. Afterward, she continued working with Rutherford. She began sharing her real struggles with her husband and processing her past, including her sexual abuse and persistent inner critic. She worked on her sobriety, set clear-cut boundaries with her mother, relinquished her perfectionism, and explored who she wanted to be.

“Her smiles were real, her joy infectious,” Rutherford writes. And “she was glad to be alive.”

When Your Depression Is Perfectly Hidden (Even from Yourself) syndicated from

[ethicsustinvest]

PODCAST: Green Bonds, ESG Indexes, Active or Passive ESG Funds?

Where do you find green bonds? New report highly critical of most ESG indexes. Though passive ESG ETFs can be attractive from an annual cost perspective, check what’s in them and see if their holdings agree with your values. There's a strong argument that active management for ESG investing is best. And much more here

Transcript & Links 29 March 2019

In this edition, I’m going to cover several recent items that I believe are most important for News to Profit By listeners.

Our first story, Why ESG Is Too Nuanced for Index Investing, Frances E. Tuite, ThinkAdvisor.

The writer says, that, "Active management brings deeper analysis and nimbler choices into building socially responsible portfolios."

Frances makes some good points why active management of funds – rather than just sitting on a group of stocks indefinitely – can be preferable. Among the points are, and I quote,

1) “Active managers combine valuation, fundamental analysis and ESG factors into their stock selection. A passive or index strategy does not encompass individual stock selection; rather, stocks are added based on a positive or negative screen without regard to valuation or fundamental research.”

2) “An active manager may create a select and concentrated portfolio (40 or 50 names) while passive funds may hold a large diversified portfolio (in some cases over 1,000 positions) that due to liquidity needs, out of necessity, can include stocks with low ESG ratings.“

Frances says that the new Vanguard ESG U.S. Stock ETF includes Facebook and Amazon which both now have low ESG scores by some analysts. Amazon for the treatment of their workforce and Facebook for its data issues.

So, though passive ESG ETFs can be attractive from an annual cost perspective, check what’s in them and see if their holdings agree with your values. Go to this podcasts’ blog page at investingforthesoul.com/podcasts to find out where to get reliable sustainable and ethical fund information for where you live.

Americans at https://charts.ussif.org/mfpc/ Canadians can check out funds at https://www.riacanada.ca/ri-marketplace/investment-options/ . UK investors at http://www.yourethicalmoney.org/investments/ . For Australians and New Zealanders https://www.responsiblereturns.com.au/ .

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The second story, What Are Green Bonds and How ‘Green’ Is Green? By Lyubov Pronina, Bloomberg Businessweek

A quick quote reads, “Because investors face the challenge of judging whether a note is truly green, regulators are working on standards to help guard against greenwashing, or misleading claims about just how good a friend to the environment an issuer is."

Green bonds go to existing or new projects that have beneficial environmental or climate impacts. $580 billion of them were sold in 2018.

There’s been a real problem of creating standards for them. For instance, how can you ascertain exactly what’s green? So, now the standards are coming together.

Issuers in over 50 countries have sold green bonds and include institutions like the World Bank and the EU’s European Investment Bank.

For a long time, ethical investors had difficulty in creating a fixed income or bond portfolio. Now, with the advent of green bonds ethical and sustainable fixed income investing is becoming a lot easier! Look into it if you haven’t already done so and get some quality green bonds in your portfolio. To get started, one good source for green bond investing is The Climate Bonds Initiative which lists most of the green bonds out there.

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Our third item is, The Blind Spot in Corporate Sustainability Rankings: Climate Policy Leadership, by the Environmental Defense Fund.

Here’s a quote that gives the gist of the study, “The authors reviewed eight rankings by evaluating the methodologies that these systems have published online and that are available to the public. They assessed whether companies’ policy engagement activities were considered in the rankings, and how, if considered, they were tabulated as part of the companies’ overall rankings or scores...”

And, “Most corporate sustainability rankings do little to encourage companies to engage in climate policy, as they neither recognize support for nor penalize opposition to climate policy."

The Environmental Defense Fund has done a brilliant job in analyzing which sustainability screened stock indexes only include companies who are also screened for their environmental advocacy. The reason for such screening allows investors to better determine which companies are truly on board with combating climate change. Of the eight major indexes only two were recommended. They are Corporate Knights' Global 100 and InfluenceMap. So that’s who to go to if you really want to invest only in the most serious companies about climate change—but who also offer the potential of decent returns.

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My fourth item of news, is, Ethical Funds Have Never Been Cheaper As Vanguard Spurs Fee War, by Bloomberg News

Quoting the article, "The price war has come to socially conscious investing. BlackRock (BLK), Vanguard Group and Deutsche Bank's (DB) DWS Group have slashed fees for exchange traded funds that track companies performing well on environmental, social and governance criteria."

Incidentally, an insightful write up on Vanguard's new Global ESG Select Stock fund by Morningstar's great Jon Hale, Ph.D. is worthy of a read. Get the link on this podcasts page at investingforthesoul.com/podcasts.

Also, in my podcast of March 15, I mentioned how annual fund fees for ESG ETFs were now often comparable to those of conventional funds. This article goes into some depth about that.

However, I absolutely maintain that if you truly want a portfolio that reflects your deep beliefs and values, the only way to do that is to buy individual stocks. I make that simple with my 1-hour DIY Ethical-Sustainable Investing Pays Tutorial. See the link on my website investingforthesoul.com.

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A fifth news story I want to cover is, How to Evaluate Funds that Invest in Women, by Debbie Carlson, US News

Here’s an interesting quote, "Because data around gender was so thin, Andrew Behar, CEO of As You Sow, a California-based nonprofit shareholder advocacy group focused on ESG, says his group worked with Equileap to compile more information about corporate gender policies, including policies like training, career development, safety at work, human rights and other issues...

His group recently created a gender-equality funds tool that analyzes mutual funds and ETFs, taking into account these different gender attributes and giving each fund a score."

There are now some good ETFs that are gender focused and I covered them in my March 15 podcast in a commentary concerning an article, Who runs the world? The global status of women in leadership.

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Now my next, sixth story is quite revealing, Large fund firms' support for combating climate change is all talk, as proxy voting record shows bottom performance, by Eric Rosenbaum, CNBC.

Here’s a great quote! “A data analysis released by Ceres in early March shows that when BlackRock and Vanguard are measured on their up-or-down votes on climate change resolutions at stockholder annual meetings, they have among the worst voting records in the fund industry."

So, the voting data would appear irrefutable that the largest American fund companies don't 'walk their talk. Senior managers of some of these huge fund companies, including Blackrock’s CEO, Larry Fink, have been loudly espousing their love for ESG. I hope it’s just a simple case that views of the funds senior managers on ESG hadn't yet filtered down to the managers making the proxy decisions who are likely engaged with other concerns. I expect that the 2019 and 2020 proxy seasons will show much-improved results.

I suggest if you’re concerned about how your fund company stacks up on ESG and climate change related stockholder voting, see the Ceres report. Again, the link is on my podcast page for this show.

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And now the seventh and final story I want to cover, is, Investors Lose a Major Justification for Holding Tobacco Stocks, by Lisa Pham, Bloomberg.

Here’s an insightful quote from it, "In recent years, a flurry of European pension funds and insurers have begun divesting their holdings, putting pressure on the share prices. BAT had its worst year on record last year, slumping 50 percent, as the U.S. Food and Drug Administration toughened its stance toward the tobacco industry. Philip Morris slumped 37 percent."

Some of you might think it unsurprising that tobacco stocks are down. However, until recently most investors would’ve have told you that tobacco stocks are great as they’ve demonstrated terrific returns for decades!

Well, I've been arguing for many years now that the days were numbered for big tobacco. In July 2010, I wrote an editorial on my Investing for the Soul site, Sin or Ethical Investing: Which Pays Best? There, I said, "Over the next five to ten years I suspect that ethical stock portfolios could outperform both the sin and conventional variety." And it looks like I’ll be proven right.

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So, there we have it for this podcast!

Just a reminder, to download the transcript of this podcast and get all the links and additional information mentioned here, please go to investingforthesoul.com/podcasts and look for this edition.

And remember, I’m here to help you grow in your investment success—and investing in opportunities that reflect your personal values!

Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any questions about this podcast or anything else investment related.

A big thank you for listening—and please click the share buttons to share this podcast with your friends and family.

Come again! Bye for now!

© 2019 Ron Robins, Investing for the Soul. All rights reserved.

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