#to all my fellow imposter syndrome sufferers

[yesloulou]

it is not because of luck!!!!!! you really do deserve everything you have!!!!!!!! it is not because of luck!!!!!!!!!!

[altocat]

How excited Seph would be, every time he did something that made Angeal and Genesis laugh and happy!!

The confused desperation when they started to withdraw after he accidentally hurt Genesis when they were all playing.

(Fellow neurodivergent with the rejection dysphria hurting my own feelings when I think about it yaaaaaayyyy)

I like to hc that Sephiroth suffers a lot from imposter syndrome and the fear of being rejected. So his mind is ALWAYS nagging at him whenever he thinks he's opening up too much or not doing enough to appeal to his friends. It's in a constant state of "oh you said something funny and they liked that you did something right for once" or automatically assuming they're not interested in the things he has to say. Sephiroth is terribly afraid of losing them. And so when he finally DOES, he assumes it's because of HIM and not because of the circumstances that shape the plot of Crisis Core.

Sephiroth spends so much of their early years together being kind of withdrawn and restraining himself. And by the time he's finally able to fully open up and unleash himself for fun...someone ends up getting hurt. He wrestles with that guilt all the time and it influences him to keep Zack at a distance, even if he wanted to earnestly befriend him.

[all-pacas]

foreman cannot catch a break! first, he has to third wheel chase and cameron, after he has to third wheel chase and thirteen, his ex-girlfriend! then he and taub become friends and then chase goes and becomes a favourite of his daughters.

No wonder he continues to hate chase, I'd be pissed if some guy easily got everything he wanted in my life too

HONESTLY I could and probably will someday write up a whole thing about this, I know you're joking (and correct), but I actually find Foreman and Chase's antagonism really interesting and way more interesting than the bland "aww they're besties" read you sometimes see. They're really not!

Chase is basically. Chase is basically the embodiment of everything Foreman hates, pretty literally. Foreman has an inferiority complex and suffers massive imposter syndrome; Chase is literally a nepotism hire with a famous father. Foreman works his ass off; Chase is notoriously lazy but genuinely talented.

There's this line in Post Mortem from Chase's other hospital nemesis:

CHASE: If you really think I'm a good doctor, why do you treat me like an idiot? TREIBER: It's not because you lack talent. It's 'cause you've wasted it. Did you know I applied to be a fellow with House the same year as you? CHASE: No. TREIBER: Quit my other program, relocated, broke up with my girlfriend. Then your father made a call, and suddenly you had the spot. CHASE: That was almost ten years ago. TREIBER: Do you know what I could've done after even three years with House? Gone to the CDC, W.H.O. Started a diagnostics department someplace they'd never even heard of such a thing. You've been given everything. Looks, talent, my future. Nine years later, look what you've done with it.

This could literally be Foreman talking. Chase is rich, successful, he's socially very adept (something Foreman struggles with); on the surface he never seems to have to work hard for anything, he never seems to try hard or care. He fucks over House with Volger and gets away with it. He gets fired but keeps managing to fail upwards, and meanwhile Foreman is the one with a shitty reputation who can't get a job anywhere.

Foreman came from nothing, he overcame so much, he has overcome literally all the odds and worked his ass off and done everything right. And he's wildly successful, for sure, but it's work. "Chase doesn't care about this job," he tells House in S1. Chase doesn't deserve to be in the same place, because Chase hasn't worked for it.

There's a very interesting class/racial subtext to it all too, of course. We know Foreman resents poor people and the underprivileged, people who remind him of himself. Chase is literally the one percent: a good looking White Man, the scion of a rich and powerful family. He is everything Foreman isn't. Even their dynamic is kind of telling of this: Chase never seems to take Foreman all that seriously. He takes the piss a lot, he enjoys making fun of him and trolling. Chase does this with everyone, it's not personal, but it's kind of insulting, right? Chase kind of treats Foreman like a joke. Where Foreman can often be very rude or even mean to Chase (his insistence that Chase must have ratted to Tritter and is that spineless and making fun of his dady issues in Finding Judas comes to mind), Chase doesn't return the favor in the same way. Foreman is mean, Chase is sarcastic. Which is of course also hurtful. Which of course also makes it seem like Chase looks down on Foreman. I'm sure that's how Foreman takes it. It's true. Chase is pretty fucking dismissive of Foreman. I don't think it's a class/racial thing in the way Foreman's resentments probably are — Chase is kind of dismissive of most people — but it doesn't help.

And, of course, Foreman isn't completely right. He's biased, he's in his own way kind of a snob, there are several examples of Foreman completely misinterpreting Chase as a person: my favorite is in The Mistake: in an episode showing Chase bonding with Kayla and her brother and taking a sincere interest in Kayla's kids, Foreman bitterly complains to Stacy that Chase doesn't care about his patients. But Chase isn't exactly jumping at the bit to open up to Foreman, even when Foreman does try and reach out (Socratic Method, post-S6 divorce). They're kind of… fundamentally incompatible people. They're eventual friends, they respect one another, but they're just incapable of seeing eye to eye.

[redd956]

Imposter Syndrome & Writing

Oh that pesky imposter syndrome! Many of us know her whether we like it or not. Although I don’t have as bad anxiety as others do in this regard, imposter syndrome can try to come for us all, and hits a lot of us creative types the hardest. I know some nights it hits me too, and I completely forget about all my favorite work, and fixate on my worst.

Have you heard your inner speech say any of this:

“My writing just isn’t good enough for others to enjoy”

“Why isn’t my online activity as good as others?”

“Oh they’re better than me...and younger...”

“I or my writing isn’t interesting enough”

Well I have news for you that was likely imposter syndrome speaking, or anxiety, or depression or- You get the point.

Overcoming & Lowering Writing Anxiety

Kicking imposter syndrome to the curb isn’t easy, and it isn’t really permanent either. We as humans have a hard time with comparing everything to everything, and that includes ourselves to other writers. Which is the primary problem. Here’s some popular tactics to help tackle anxiety and self doubt in writing.

What’s a real writer?

Gatekeeping is a problem among all groups of creatives. For awhile growing up I most saw it as digital artist “aren’t” the real artist. Writers struggle with gatekeeping in the community frequently too. This has become so prevalent some have taken the negative voices of gatekeeping and subconsciously ingrained it into themselves. 

So let I remind you, you are a writer if you

Write

Don’t Write but want to

Are trying to write

Create stories

It doesn't really matter what you write, you’re a writer if you have the will to be. Telling yourself and acknowledging that what you write doesn’t devolve you as a writer is a tremendous first step.

You’re not alone

As said before creatives of all types, including hundreds of writers are suffering from imposter syndrome. It’s valid to feel such a way, and acknowledging those feelings can also help. Don’t oversaturate yourself though. Even best-selling authors experience imposter syndrome, or get discourage by comparing themselves to fellow writers. You can not turn into another writer, because you will always be yourself as a writer.

What you’ve done up til now/Perfectionism

Often times in the boughs of imposter syndrome people become blind to their hard work, or begin to feel like everything they’ve done up til now is pointless. Which completely negates that others better or on their level have gone through most if not all of the same hard work.

All because we aren’t the best all the time doesn’t mean our hard work and talent is invalid. Seeking perfection is impossible. Every good artist has thousands of throw aways, deletes, messed up layers, balled up paper, and more. The same goes for writers. I even frequently post my bad, as it forces me to accept that I’ve created it and it’s a thing.

My bad doesn’t invalidate my good. Just like how you on your bad days doesn’t define your entire personality. To accept the bad in creativity is important, and I greatly suggest keeping all your ideas now matter how trash. You might find your future skills or mentality will be ready to take it all on again in the future.

One way I’ve done this, and a popular writing hack at that is to keep a writing journal and refuse to delete half-written or poorly written pieces. Editing and rewriting is okay as long as you don’t over do it, and find yourself rewriting the same thing over and over again. It will never be perfect, and accepting that is one of the most helpful things we as writers can do.

[lunapaper]

Album Review: 'That! Feels Good!' - Jessie Ware

What’s Your Pleasure? arrived at just the right time.  

Along with Lady Gaga’s Chromatica, Kylie’s Disco, Rina Sawayama’s debut album SAWAYAMA and Dua Lipa’s Future Nostalgia, Jessie Ware’s fourth album offered sweet disco pop escapism during the first few months of COVID lockdown, turning the kitchen floor into the dancefloor and evoking sweaty, lustful neon-soaked fantasies. It’s an almost immaculate record; a glossy, seductive cut of pure pop elegance.  

The British singer’s latest album, the beautifully titled That! Feels Good!, further doubles down on the sparkling kitsch and melodrama.  

‘I’ve put aside years of anxiety, imposter syndrome and all that fretting and feeling like I’m not good enough,’ says Ware (via Clash). ‘It’s not necessarily bigger or better than the last album, it’s more about turning the volume up and embodying that real, deep, sexy, bloody gorgeous groove.’ 

If What’s Your Pleasure? was plush and luxurious, then this is frothy and flirtatious fun, dropping the ‘nu’ from nu-disco almost completely with funkier basslines, huskier vocals and richer instrumentation as Ware reassembles the Pleasure dream team, including producer James Ford and singer/songwriter Shungudzo Kuyimba, and even recruits Madonna’s Confessions on a Dancefloor producer, Stuart Price.  

That! Feels Good! is also much hornier than its predecessor, delightfully so. To put it in late 90s pop terms, it’s less ‘If You Could Read My Mind’ by Stars on 54 and more ‘Horny’ by Mousse T. In fact, Ware has made her very own ‘Horny’ in the form of the album’s standout track, ‘Freak Me Now.’ 

It’s rapturous ecstasy bouncing on top of a filthy, limbre, positively vulgar bassline, recalling the sassy and colourful energy of the Spice Girls’ ‘Who Do You Think You Are’ as well as the bawdy fun of ‘Horny.’ ‘Freak Me Now’ is Ware at her most wild and untamed, with joyous yelps and commands to get your body over here and get that ass on the floor – just try to resist it. 

The singer makes for an incredible motivational speaker, compacting positive messages into catchy pop hooks. The ‘Funkytown’-esque ‘Beautiful People’ implores you to give her your love, driven by hypnotic cowbell and a side order of sass. On ‘Free Yourself,’ she encourages listeners to keep moving up that mountaintop, led by euphoric stabs of 90s pop piano in the same vein as Cece Penniston’s ‘Finally.’ 

Playful and tongue-in-cheek, That! Feels Good! showcases a more confident and self-assured Ware. On the title track, she demands, ‘If you’re gonna do it, do it well,’ led in by a chorus of breathless chanting that includes Benny Blanco, comedian Aisling Bea and actors Jamie Demetriou and Gemma Arterton, as well as fellow dance divas Kylie and Roisin Murphy.  

‘Begin Again,’ has her longing for sweaty human contact, strutting across the floor with a sexy samba-adjacent beat as she shrugs off the daily grind. ‘Shake the Bottle,’ meanwhile, is cutting and cool as ice, envisioned as a possible Lipsync for Your Life entry on RuPaul’s Drag Race as Ware amps up the camp, listing off a bunch of paramours who’ve done her wrong. It pushes the limits of innuendo more so than What’s Your Pleasure? as the singer provides instructions on how to make her bottle pop (‘(Ooh-ah!) Flip the switch and flick on the flame/(Ooh-ah!) Pour the love like strawberry rain/(Ooh-ah!) Shake it, shake it and put on the top/That's the way to make my bottle pop!’).  

The album’s true mission statement, though, can be summed up on the champagne-soaked decadence of ‘Pearls.’ Here, Ware proudly considers herself lover, freak and mother, the domestic colliding with the hedonistic in a glitzy cataclysm.  

The singer has spoken in the past about the identity crisis she suffered after the release of 2017’s Glasshouse, struggling at the time to balance motherhood and pop stardom. In an industry notorious for treating women as invisible by the time they’re 30, the track is a bold assertion of Ware’s artistry, sensuality and femininity, taking back her power and unashamed of her desires.  

That! Feels Good! also offers a couple of moments to catch your breath with ‘Hello Love,’ a jazzy summer montage with silky sax and an old-school soul groove courtesy of London Afrobeats collective Kokoroko, and ‘Lightning,’ recalling the sprawling cool of ‘Remember Where You Are’ and the moodiness of ‘Ware’s Devotion era, before ending the party with a bang on ‘These Lips.’  

Shimmering and sensual with its stylish beats and flourishing horns, the singer’s lips are apparently a dangerous weapon: They can turn milk to gold, take you places that you never thought you'd go and even wanted in a hundred countries, maybe more! It’s a perfect combination of the album’s overall sweetness and sexuality, offering a wink and a smile before sealing things with a kiss. 

That! Feels Good! proves once again that Jessie has the Midas touch. Everything she touches turns to gold, from the glistening production to the infectious joy that permeates throughout the record. It perfects the disco formula laid out by its predecessor and takes it to even greater heights with lashings of funk, jazz and French house, delivering banger after banger while never once feeling like it’s outstayed its welcome. 

The album is a gorgeous glitter bomb of camp that would implode in lesser hands, just oozing confidence and sophistication while not taking itself too seriously. Ware’s bawdy humour only adds to the charm, especially refreshing in a genre like dance where cool is everything, though rather stifling. 

Freedom is a sound, pleasure is a right, and That! Feels Good! shows Jessie Ware to be the perfect primadonna, just doing what she wants to do…  

- Bianca B. 

[edible--stars]

this one is for all my fellow "gifted kids" who now suffer from severe imposter syndrome, anxiety, and overwhelming perfectionism. i'm with y'all. | playlist

[thisnewdevilry]

So, uhm... fellow sufferers burdened with a crippling combination of abysmally low/poisonous self esteem, significant things you don't like about your body, imposter syndrome, and a tendency compare oneself to successful/athletic family members... any advice you feel like sharing about what to do when all of that signs a chorus of 'this is why you suck and are bringing everyone else down'? Tactics? Recommendations?

I'm trying to shove myself in a positive direction, but my doctor isn't back from extended mat leave for another month, and I don't think I can get/afford a therapist without a referral.

Not a crisis situation, just... I'm having a hard time remembering how to stop listening to all of the inner noise about how much I suck.

[savvyblunders]

Personal Post: Imposter Syndrome, Reading Traditional Books, and thoughts about my own writing

{Just rambles regarding books, fanfiction and some of my thoughts therein.}

It’s been a terribly long time since I read any published books--aside from those written by fellow fanfiction authors. It has reached the point that I find them entirely too cringey. The plots are tame, the characters stiff, the language rote. I especially have a hard time caring if there is a supposed ‘romance’ involved. Forget about het romances, they’re so formulaic that they leave me cold. It isn’t that I have no interest in the portrayal of a relationship between a woman and man, it’s that by and large they might as well have been churned off of a factory production line. 

Part of my objection is to the tired old tropes and gender roles which authors (and readers) don’t seem to realize they’re not only falling prey to, but encouraging with their work. The world doesn’t have to be turned on its head to be interesting, but you shouldn’t know from the first few scenes between characters how it will play out--and further more, not care.

I did read a rather good psychological mystery a few days ago, however. I think perhaps it was successful in part because it was so different from the usual run of stories that people publish, but also because there wasn’t a romance shoe-horned into the storyline. The narrator wasn’t particularly sympathetic, but nor were they entirely unredeemed. I don’t want to give too much away, but it explored the themes of bullying, memory, redemption and revenge, with an enjoyable twist that I didn’t see coming--I was successfully led astray by red herrings, which isn’t always the case when I’m reading mysteries. The book, should anyone be interested, was Girl Gone Mad by Avery Bishop.

{I keep on rambling after the break ;)}

I also read another which was such a stinker I deleted it from my Kindle history and couldn’t tell you the title or author. This beauty had a somewhat interesting premise of a woman who wakes from a six month coma with full amnesia and throughout the book has to struggle with not remembering anything and depending on her husband, children and neighbors for the details of her life. Frustratingly, she finds parts of her personality and tastes have changed--at least as far as they all tell her. She begins to doubt that she is who they say--an issue further compounded when certain facets of her life pre-coma are revealed. Then when the ending arrives, there is a twist and a reveal which could have been pretty neat, only it arrived at the end of such a rote story, with such clunky storytelling and unimaginative language that I kind of didn’t care. It was clear, I might add, that the female protagonist was written by a man. Although blessedly he didn’t go into raptures over her perky breasts, long hair, or other physical attributes [insert vomiting]

My reading resulted in a two-fold feeling. One, traditionally published books are by and large crap. A few months ago I tried reading a book from a famous author whom I used to be quite a fan of. It was part of a series with which I used to be enamored. I settled in, expecting a very enjoyable read. After slogging through three chapters I gave it up. The writing was generic, the characters shallow and the ‘bad guy’ was so sketchily written as to be bewildering, not mysterious. 

That book left me frustrated and annoyed. But it also revealed something to me which I had somewhat accepted and understood prior to that, but not entirely absorbed. Just because a book is traditionally published doesn’t mean it’s any good. Just because an author is well known--or even on the best seller list--doesn’t mean they can write. There are more places to find interesting, funny, heartbreaking, sexy, fun, amazingly written, daring and wonderful stories than at a bookstore or through Kindle. 

The second part of my two-fold feeling was that while, as a writer, I may have much room to grow, I still have valuable skills to offer. My four years of writing fanfiction have honed my talent, refined my style, and influenced my voice, perspective and ability. A good beta, or editor, is invaluable. While I used to write solo and not show it to anyone, simply edit and post, I’ve come to understand the inherent value of feedback. It can be a tricky road, as you might find yourself influenced too much by a reader into trying to suit their tastes rather than your own, but a good beta (eternal thanks to @paialovespie & @hoomhum)--that is to say, a great beta, will not only see the nuts and bolts which might need tightening, but will offer insights which blow your story from ordinary to inspired. The same goes for a ‘personal cheerleader’ (the highest of praise to @mottlemoth) or someone who reminds you at your dark times that you are capable of far more than you can conceive of in that moment. Forget nasty comments online, most of us are our own worst enemies--after all, we know our weakest spots and can zero in on them mercilessly.

Even without a beta, I believe in myself as a writer enough these days (most days) to hope that one day, with hard work, skill, great editing, and some luck, I too could be published. Not a NYT best seller, perhaps, but then, I’m not entirely certain I’d like that. I don’t say this out of any sort of pretentiousness, but because, in essence, these days, I want to write the kind of things that appeal to a more niche audience. I’d like to point with pride at my small book, nestled there on a bookshelf, or available with one click of a button, as something that helps give a voice to a community which has, and still continues to be, marginalized, ignored, fetishized and pandered to, in equal measure. Perhaps it would be for the best if what I wrote wasn’t palatable to the greater reading public.

Of course, those days when I’m full of zest and confidence don’t always last. Like any creator, I fall prey to Imposter Syndrome. Lord, I can’t believe that a time used to exist when I didn’t know what that was! I knew the feeling (oh, how I did), but had no clue that a term existed to encapsulate it. The concept that I wasn’t alone in having days (weeks, months, years) of being cast into doubt that I had anything worth saying--a voice worth listening to--isn’t a new one, but to find out that I’m not alone was unutterably comforting. 

Since, like so many people, I’ve been suffering from a lack of ambition and ability to focus during this global pandemic, I haven’t written much at all, that inner voice rang loud and clear. I’m a fraud, a fake. Any ability I had was used up, clearly as shallow as a mud puddle if a little adversity was enough to dry it out. The struggle to get myself past that was, and is, one that swings from good to bad almost day by day. I had to finally give myself permission to be sad, scared, worried, tired, uninspired. Eventually I decided it was enough that I could find comfort and solace in other’s writing. And oh, how I have! Even though days and days would pass when I couldn’t even muster the interest to read, other times I would consume fanfiction fervently, feverishly. 

And there was so much out there! Adventure, sex, romance, comedy, crack, fluff, hurt/comfort. It seems funny that I can rail against the ‘formulaic’ writing of published books and then turn to ‘tags’ and ‘tropes’ for comfort. But I think the difference lies in the heart that is written into those fanfiction stories. Most of us, while being somewhat influenced by friends, mutuals and fans into writing for a hungry public, are, by and large, writing for ourselves. The old tried and true ‘write what you know’ advice seemed empty and meaningless to me for years. If we only ever write what we know, then how do sci-fi, fantasy, adventure, etc., get written? My brain went to the obvious and ignored the heart of the matter--it isn’t so much what you ‘know’ as writing what you need. What makes you passionate. Even if you’ve never been on a space ship, or been part of a polyamorous, platonic communal family group, if you write it with that yearning and spirit in your heart, it will reach out to someone else.

Fanfiction, at it’s core, is self-comfort.

In my estimation, looking at traditionally published books, it seems that what most of them lack is that heart. The writers aren’t writing because they need the story, or because they are compelled to tell it. It isn’t that they had a hell of a good time writing it, or that they made themselves laugh while doing so. They had a publishing deal to fulfil, a publisher to make happy, a reading public who had certain expectations. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, but if it’s your only motivation...then the writing suffers the neglect and a percerptive reader will note the difference. 

By and large, the fandom, the ship, even the trope, aren’t what captivates me most. I’m a pretty eclectic reader. I enjoy a good story more than I do the fact that it is a particular pairing. The draw is how well it is written, any chances the author took, the indulgence into style, formatting, etc. that they allowed themselves. So why should published books be any different? I’ve heard (non-fandom) people dismiss fanfiction as niche. Perhaps it is. But it is also broad, vast, uncharted territory where we’re all having a lot of fun and enjoying the hell out of ourselves.

Maybe those published authors need to spend a little time with us. 

[studylustre]

i am not telling you this to put you down or tell you how to run your own blog, i simply want to help. kind honesty is always more helpful than brutal honesty, and yours was a little more brutal than kind. i also got a little concerned with the tag you made #not here for this kind of energy y'all, what did u mean by that? i hope this doesn't anger you. i was just concerned about the anon and my fellow sufferers of anxiety. thank you and i hope you continue to be a beam of light to people. end.

i’m sorry if u felt like my response was unkind bc that was truly not my intention, that was simply my honest thoughts and perspective on the situation which the anon came to me for. as someone who also suffers from anxiety and imposter syndrome i GET it, it’s awful and way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole of self-depracation but at some point u have to recognise it, call urself out on it and put an end to it bc objectively speaking it’s not beneficial for anyone to belittle themselves. my hashtag meant what it said - i’m not here for my followers, who i know are so much more capable of things than they give themselves credit for, beating themselves up and seeking validation from others to feel good about themselves. not to say that you can’t ever seek out validation from others bc we all do it, heck i definitely do it too, but on the whole it needs to come from within - u need to know and internalise the fact that u are worthy, u are great, u are smart and talented and enough regardless of whether or not someone else tells u, and that’s the only way u can truly be confident and happy with urself. i am aware it’s easier said than done but imo at the end of the day that’s the key. anyway, i always strive to be honest and straightforward w/ my followers when they come to me for advice and or my opinion on something and sometimes u guys may not like it which i apologise for if i ever do hurt ur feelings bc again that is NOT my intention at all, but those are my true thoughts.

[togetherwearerapture]

Meet My MC (Dr Elle Valentine, Open Heart)

Thanks so much for the tag @jamespotterthefirst ! I've loved reading about everyone's MC stories and I really enjoyed making mine.

Book: Open Heart

Full Name: Eleanor (Elle) Elizabeth Valentine

Nicknames: Elle (Most who know her), Ells/Elly (Affectionate, close friends), Rookie (Ethan), Sweetheart (Ethan)

Face Claim: Kate Upton/Belle Lucia (still can't decide on one)

Age/Birthday: 26, 22nd July

Love Interest(s): Ethan Ramsey

Hometown: Kilkenny, Ireland (family moved to Montpelier, Vermont when Elle was 3 years old)

Education: Brown University (on a scholarship)

Occupation: Second Year Resident/Junior Fellow on Diagnostics Team

Family: Elizabeth Valentine (American mother, passed away when Elle was 11), Thomas Valentine (Irish father), Sam Valentine (brother, 2 years younger), Hazel Valentine (grandmother)

Background: The Valentines were a working class, fairly poor family. They emigrated to America to be closer to Elizabeth's mother after Thomas' elderly parents passed away in Ireland. Elle was very close to her mother. When she passed away suddenly from late-presenting cancer when Elle was only 11, she took the loss very hard. This helped shape Elle's goal to be a doctor. Thomas was now a single father and had to work overtime as a car mechanic. Elle helped raise her younger brother and essentially ran the house. Took on lots of jobs as a teen to help pay for bills. Cherished visits to her beloved grandma on Sundays; these became her solace in the lonely years after her mother's passing, where the two women could remember her together. Wishes she could visit grandma more often now and worries about her living alone with her advancing age. Elle was the first in her family to attend university. Graduated top of her class, and received many award for her outstanding contributions and academic excellence. Was also invited to work on a research paper with her professors in her final year, so along with her dissertation, graduated med school with two published works (Ethan read and was extremely impressed by both, before she even came to Edenbrook). Faced many (and sometimes still continues to receive) cruel comments about her looks and implications that she must have slept her way to her success, from classmates and ex-boyfriends. This is something that has caused a deep sense of imposter syndrome within her, that she still can't quite shake.

Personality traits: Kind, warm, gentle, empathetic. But has a strong sense of loyalty and justice, and will fiercely fight for this if needs be. Gets angry about all the suffering and injustice in the world. An excellent listener. Selfless to a fault. A witty and sharp sense of humour, loves a good meme. Extremely intelligent and dedicated to her work. A morning person. Struggles with anxiety.

Random facts: A dedicated runner, in all places and all weathers (the more extreme the better) which helps her push past her worries. Cleans frequently and finds it therapeutic (sometimes in the middle of the night when she can't sleep). A big fan of cosy, hygge bedroom decor and scented candles, to curl up with a good book and a cup of tea on rainy days. Animal lover. A creative cook (taught by her mother) who enjoys experimenting with different ingredients and surprising people, (most of all Ethan) with how good vegan food is. Also a talented artist, however because of the demands of her job, hasn't painted much since medical school. Loves plants, dreams of owning a big garden someday like their one back in Ireland. Has a little flower garden on the windowsill of the Boston apartment, which brings her lots of joy in the meantime.

[rt8815]

OC Ask Game

I was tagged by the amazing @illegalcerebral

I put a Keep Reading link because this is looong.

1) Name (and why you chose it if you like) McKinley Campbell Durand. I named her after McKinley Morganfield, better known as Muddy Waters. However, the “in universe?” reason that will be given - which I haven’t written yet - is that McKinley and Campbell are family names from a few generations back.

Campbell comes from the Gaelic words for ‘crooked’ and ‘mouth.’ I just like the name. Here’s a post (that I had to rewrite because Tumblr’s a dick and wouldn’t let me edit the typos in the original. The rewrite had typos too! Blargh!) that discusses her first and last names. I thought it would be funny for her full name to consist solely of last names.

2) Fandom and how they fit into the story Criminal Minds. She works at a D.C. museum practically around the corner from the J. Edgar Hoover building (as indicated in “Let It Bleed”). That’s a tiny hint that it’s the National Museum of African American History & Culture, but I don’t think I’ll mention it very often, if for no other reason than I’ve never been to the NMAAHC and don’t want to describe it inaccurately.

The official story is that Spencer and McKinley met at the museum (again, in “Let It Bleed,” which is probably the least favorite thing of mine that I’ve written). However, they’d met once before, and texted a few times after that. Because my brain is all over the place, and because I’m telling the story in non-chronological order, I haven’t written their first meeting yet. The only details I’ve revealed thus far are that it was nighttime in a park, McKinley caught Spencer off guard and made him fall to the ground, and whatever they talked about set Spencer straight and lifted his spirits. Also, a swingset was involved. Beyond that, I’ve inserted McKinley into the plotlines and events of the show, with necessary alterations, and there’s a ton of domestic Spencer and off-duty team stuffs.

3) Do they have any family? Biological family: daughter Sophie and son Jason; her Mom (no name yet); maternal grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins; and her estranged father (no name yet). Chosen/found family: husband Spencer; the BAU.

4) As a child, what did they want to be when they grew up? When she was a toddler, McKinley wanted to be a pediatrician (a doctor just for kids?! Cool!) or an ophthalmologist (she’s worn glasses practically her whole life). As an older child she aspired to be an entomologist or herpetologist. In her teenage years she considered a career in forensic pathology or criminal psychology. While earning her BA in English, she discovered that Public History was her true calling.

5) Their greatest dream To be a good Mom. To inspire learning in others.

6) Their worst nightmare Losing her family; having to see her father again.

7) Strengths Empathy, insight/self awareness, forgiving nature but knowing when to cut her losses

8) Weaknesses McKinley struggles with imposter syndrome.

She can be very mean. I mean, downright nasty cruel, verbally. This is rare though because, and I’m paraphrasing a future bit of dialogue here, anyone whose behavior could arguably warrant such a response is beneath her notice and not worth the effort. She’s more likely to close the door on someone. When she’s removed a person from her life, she is done. They become literally nothing to her. McKinley will rightly claim that this is about self-preservation and boundaries, but she really takes it to the next level.

9) What would they chose between: morning and night, sweet and savoury, beaches or meadows, cities or countryside, winter or summer, Christmas or Halloween (sorry, Spencer!), movies or TV shows, action or rom-com, clowns or vampires, stars or the moon (both!), cocktails or pints [Neither. McKinley doesn’t care for cocktails or beer. Scotch, brandy, rum, and dry wines are her poisons. She’s been known to add Kahlúah to vanilla ice cream, Baileys Irish Cream to coffee (she wants to try Drambuie next), or make hot toddies when she has a cold (obviously not mixing any alcohol with any medicine)]

10) How do they relax? Reading, or having Spencer read to her; knitting; listening to her records or playing her guitar; exercising with Boogie so she’s exhausted enough to sleep that night; baking and cooking

11) What makes them angry? Injustice, apathy/indifference, ableism, willful ignorance

12) What makes them afraid? The awful things she’d possibly do under duress; her family getting hurt or worse; spiders and other bugs that bite and/or sting

13) What is a moment from their childhood that has shaped who they are? It’s not a single event, but growing up with an abusive parent has certainly had a lifelong impact on McKinley. You’ve heard the expression “once bitten, twice shy?” She’s “once bitten, there’s no twice because you no longer exist.” She’s working on that. It’s also cultivated empathy, though, and is part of the reason she volunteers in the hospital’s rehab wing.

14) Do they have a sense of humour? Intellectual humor, pop culture references, puns/Dad jokes, science jokes. Sometimes morbid.

15) What do they value in their friends/loved ones? Honesty and empathy

16) Do they have any pets? An Aussie Collie/Border Aussie named Boogie-Woogie. He’s her first child.

17) Worst memory? Probably the day Meadows shot her and she thought she’d never see Spencer and Penny again.

18) Best memory? The days Sophie and Jason were born. Minus, y’know, the agonizing pain of labor and delivery.

19) Do they have any tattoos? (If no would they get one?) Nope and nope

20) If you could write them into another fandom, which one would you choose? If I knew the MCU better, I’d love to write her in as a Stark Tower employee! She’d be an anthropologist and would study alien societies the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. have encountered. She’d naturally be drawn to Loki, initially in a professional capacity (they quickly discover they relate to each other on a personal level as well).

He’d first find her annoying: “Why are you pestering me, Mortal? Surely you’d rather interview my oaf of a brother?”

“No, not even remotely. He only ever wants to discuss battles he’s won. There’s so much more to Asgard and the other realms than that. I want - I need - to learn your literature, your science, your culture and history. You’re well versed in all of these subjects and you’re an excellent teacher.”

He stares at her impassively over his mug of tea, but his heart - that Judas of an organ - flutters slightly at the compliment. And how can he say no to a fellow scholar?

“I prefer your company to Thor’s too. You have this calming presence. Thor’s sweet but he’s also obnoxiously loud and brash and he always hugs me even though I keep telling him I don’t like it. And he’s constantly swinging his hammer around, which makes me think he’s overcompensating for something.”

Loki nearly chokes on his tea. Yes, this mortal is considerably more tolerable than others.

“Very well. Friday evenings at 6:00, my chambers. Arrive late and suffer my wrath.”

From that day forward, whenever Thor tries to hug her, he gets mildly electrocuted.

Did I accidentally sorta kinda write a drabble? Would anyone be interested in making this a collab? That’s what they’re called, right? (Can you tell I’ve given this some thought? Haha! I have even more details in my head.)

21) Do they like their job? (What else would they do if they could?) She loves it! Hmmm, what else…? A librarian maybe. Or animate and produce an educational cartoon series.

22) What is their sexuality? Demisexual

23) Do they believe in love at first sight? Soulmates? One true love? McKinley believes in “seeing the potential for a good relationship at first conversation.”

Yes, although she feels that term has become overused and poorly redefined.

People can find love again after it’s been lost.

24) What music do they listen to? Has that changed over time? I actually recently answered an ask about this. Yes, she grew up on what passed for country in the ‘90s. God help her, she had a boyband phase in junior high.

25) Can they cook? What food do they love? McKinley does pretty well in the kitchen. She loves a wide variety of food. She grew up in the south, so tons of carbs/comfort foods. She loves Thai, Japanese, and Indian food. She cooks up Middle Earth-inspired dishes (ha! nerd). She’s especially proud of a seed cake she bakes.

26) What are their hopes for the future? For her family to be healthy, safe and happy. To be debt free.

27) How do they react to being threatened? It’s a coin flip. McKinley might curl up like an armadillo and hope the predator gets bored and leaves, or she might kick the stool out from under them and cause their chin to slam into the bar and crack several teeth.

28) What is their love language? McKinley and Spencer both exhibit the Acts of Service love language, because just saying “I love you” isn’t enough. You ought to show it. She’ll randomly bake doughnuts for Spencer or play guitar for him in bed, and he’ll take care of laundry, dishes, and any other chores he sees need doing.

Quality Time is important for them too. Once a month, Luke and Penny babysit so Spencer and McKinley have a day alone together. It doesn’t really matter what they do. The point is it’s just them.

It caught McKinley by surprise how much she enjoys physical affection, given that she can be touch averse but holy moly she was more touch starved than she realized. She lives for snuggles and makeout sessions and playing with each others’ hair. When one of them doesn’t want to be touched, they hook their pinkies together.

29) What do they find most challenging in relationships? At work? In general? At work she struggles to gain her colleagues’ respect (think “Boy Genius” treatment except she has lady bits). In general, she struggles with trusting people.

30) What do you as a creator love best about writing this character? Giving her everything I wish I had but don’t.

Bonus: Include a link to your favourite work with this OC or write a small drabble.

October 12, 2021

Warm sunlight filtered through the curtains, gently rousing Spencer from a pleasant sleep. Just when he’d decided to get up, he felt the mattress dip behind him and his wife’s breath fanning over his ear.

“Who’s the birthday boy?” whispered McKinley.

Spencer smiled softly but feigned being asleep.

“Who’s the birthdaaay boooy?” she repeated, bouncing slightly.

“The good-looking guy to your left?”

“Happy Birthday!” she laughed, pressing kisses along his neck, suddenly shifting the mood from playful to sexy.

“Would the birthday boy like his birthday present?” she asked as she lifted the covers.

“Well, look at that - it’s already unwrapped!”

[cupcakesandcarbapenems]

Pandemic Medicine

It's a bizarre experience, being on the "front line" in a pandemic.

It's even more bizarre knowing that I work in a relatively well resourced intensive care, where our case burden has been... not zero, but nowhere near the dramatic numbers seen in the US or Europe.

As doctors, many of us are used to having some baseline degree of Imposter Syndrome - feeling like we don't deserve the praise or attention, or like we don't belong where we are, and now is no different.

My fellow intensive care registrars and I have sat back, on more than one occasion, and discussed how horrible we feel, watching and reading about everything that's happening overseas with COVID - in places where they need resources, need critical care trained staff, need hands on deck who can help - and knowing we can't do a thing for it. We can't give them our spare ventilators, we can't send our trained staff overseas, we can't be an extra set of hands as intensive care trainees. We can only sit here, and watch.

Watch and hope it doesn't get that bad for us.

And it won't - some part of us knows it won't, because we had the luxury of time. Of warning. Of a much more distributed population density. Our geography has - yet again - saved us in so many ways. We don't have that dense mass of people in cities, the same as Europe or America. We're far enough away that we had weeks to prepare - and, for my unit, we did. We planned and exploded our capacity for six times as many ICU beds as we had initially been funded. We recruited, we planned, we re-deployed. We pulled back registrars from rotations, expecting an massive influx that has - as yet - not come.

My training has been put on hold because of redeployment and this pandemic. With no end in sight.

And not that I'm complaining - I'm glad we don't have the insanity of overseas. I'm glad we aren't forced to make horrendous ethical decisions daily about who lives and gets ventilated and who doesn't, but I just... wish I could help my Critical Care family overseas who are struggling. Who are tired, who are forced to make unenviable decisions. Who are surrounded by death and futility daily. Who are forced to move on from situations that would crumble most, because otherwise more people would die.

And I hate that they're suffering like this. I hate that they're doing it all with limited PPE, while I've got the luxury of whinging about having to put on double PPE for insertion of central lines.

The same as I hate that some of my nurses feel like they're being forced to camp in tents in their yards to avoid exposing their kids to anything they may bring home from work. That they're feeling like canon fodder, forced to go into patient bays for cares multiple times per day, and yet it's consultant physicians who are putting themselves out there in local papers, complaining about how hard they have it that they may get exposed during a brief procedure, before they go home, shower in their spare bathroom or sleep in their spare room. And being hailed as heroes, when their ten minutes of intervention is only a small part of that patient's story. My forty five minutes of assessment, ultrasonography and ventilator tweaking per day is nothing. My nurses taking hours of bathing, line changing, patient cares... nothing.

Equally, I hate that I'm sitting here, waiting for the public in my country to get complacent. To see the world isn't ending, and to go out. Ignore social distancing. To get exposed - get infected - in what promises to be one of the worst winters we've faced - between SARS-CoV-2 and Influenza, it's going to be a rough few months. Between the inevitable rise in mental health admissions: the overdoses we're already starting to see, the attempted suicides, the aggressive psychotic breaks, and the horrendous respiratory admissions we're predicting, I'm scared that we're going to go from our present plethora to a complete inability to cope.

When all of this is over, I'm going to sit on the beach with my dog, and just take a moment to breathe.

[bemusedlybespectacled]

Hi, I’m an incoming 1L and I start orientation tomorrow!! I really appreciate your blog and I was wondering if you have any advice for tackling imposter syndrome. Thanks!

Good luck and godspeed, my fellow sufferer!

I’m not sure if the following advice is going to be helpful, but it’s been kinda helpful for me, so: 

Some of the people you’re going to go to law school with will be unfathomably ignorant. Like, can’t string a sentence together, can’t formulate an argument, wouldn’t know a citation if it bit them in the ass. This is true not only of law students, but of lawyers. There are a lot of lawyers I practice across from who aren’t very good writers or who mix up basic stuff about the law. Michael Cohen passed the bar and made a lot of money for many years despite being a big doofus. 

My point with all this is not to say that you, personally, are one of these people. Personally I was dead center of my class, so I was at least better than those people but clearly not as good as the truly brilliant people who ease through law school like it’s no big deal. 

But here’s the thing: it doesn’t matter. The statistical likelihood of you being a Supreme Court justice or a trial attorney the likes of Louis Brandeis or Sarah Weddington is vanishingly small. But that’s okay! Most problems aren’t that level of life-or-death important. When you go to the doctor for a UTI, you don’t need them to be the Jonas Salk of UTIs, you just need a doctor. And when most people have a legal problem, they don’t need Ruth Bader Ginsburg, they just need a lawyer.

Imposter syndrome is all about worrying that you’ve somehow conned your way into success, because no one can really be successful if they’ve only done all the things you’ve done (which of course aren’t nearly as cool as what other people have done). But I am here to tell you, as a Bona Fide Actual Fucking Lawyer, that the bar is not that high. A mediocre lawyer is still a lawyer, and that’s all most people need.

[theincompetentgenius]

hi! can I get a matchup for mlqc, ikerev and dfel? Virgo, intp, 9, and very evenly divided between all four houses for Hogwarts. i’m 5’1.75" with curly hair just past chin length dyed in a gradient from my natural ginger to Ruby to amethyst to sapphire hair and eyes that change colors under different lighting. Very petite and pale, freckled.

i’m a performing introvert, so while I can come off as an extravert in reality I’m deeply introverted. I make friends easily, especially with animals (which I love dearly!). I’m very stubborn and persistent when it comes to those I care about, but otherwise am very open and free flowing, following the wind and my intuition. Love to learn, seeks understanding, empathetic, and analytical.

I’m a creative writing and Eastern Asian studies double major with minors in literature and music performance. I love stories, reading and writing them, and creating all kinds of art whether it be on the 12+ instruments I play, singing, or visual arts. I’m a varsity fencer, my main weapon of choice being foil. I’m incredibly hard to offend or bother. I love adventures and exploring new things – especially when it comes to food and art and stories. I love soft things and pillows.

Often described as passionate, enthusiastic, talkative, and dramatic, I actually am very anxious and can be incredibly reserved in private, often closing off lots of personal information and only disclosing it to those closest to me when absolutely necessary. Due to suffering from chronic nightmares, anxiety, depression, and PTSD I often underneath the energetic exterior exhausted and dealing with extreme difficulty keeping it up. Gifted kid burnout, and heavy imposter syndrome. Comes from a successful family with 6 older siblings and as such has developed a strong desire for independence while constantly fearing hurting others or being forgotten or left behind.

Thank you so much and I hope I didn’t add too much!!!

—————————————————————————

No problem! In fact, more information helps me pick a match for you. Anywho, I hope you enjoy the matchup!

MLQC 

I’d pair you with……….. Victor!

Honestly, Victor seems like the strongest match for you and it’s pretty clear in your description why the two of you would work. However, I feel like Kiro would also be a great option for you since he’s literally a ball of sunshine who’d be able to cheer you up within minutes. If it’s the rare occasion that he can’t, you can at least expect Kiro to be right by your side when trouble occurs. He’d be able to slow down for you without putting too much pressure.

However, Victor is the clear winner here. Although you’re an introvert, you are able to put yourself out of your comfort zone– which helps you interact with Victor at his colder states. It’s even better that you make friends quickly, helping you get closer to the CEO. While he finds the small talk useless, Victor appreciates that you’re trying to get close to him (because no one else wants to take the time to get to know him).

He also finds your passion for art and music very interesting. Although he’s not a music nerd, Victor understands the difficulty in playing 12+ instruments and commends you for your talent. From time to time, he’ll ask you to play certain instruments for him– even classical songs that you’ve memorized and he enjoys listening to.

Victor also likes to push you to your full potential. He notices that you often feel like a waste of talent, but that’s not what he sees. Although he’s not verbal about his support, Victor is willing to help you do your very best in all your goals and assignments.

He also appreciates the fact that you’re empathetic towards his feelings while being analytical about other things. The duality is important and impressive to him because he needs someone who knows how to control their feelings (especially because he’s not in tune with his own emotions).

The only bump in this relationship would be the independence issue, but that’s ok because it would help the two of you strengthen the relationship in the long run. Although Victor is hesitant about leaving you on your own a lot, you prove to him that you are more than capable of taking care of yourself. As time goes by, he trusts your abilities more and finds your independence helpful in certain situations,

Another Possibility: Kiro

Ikemen Revolution

I’d pair you with……… Blanc Lapin!

Again, it seemed pretty clear to me that Blanc would be the winner, but Sirius wasn’t far off. The Queen of Spades is motherly, so he’d be able to attend to your emotional needs (especially if you’re feeling really bad). Also, it would be super cute to see you constantly trying to care for Sirius (because the poor man needs a break) as he tries to assure that he’s fine. But you’re too stubborn to listen and he’s secretly glad that you like to look after him.

However, I couldn’t pass the opportunity to match you with my favorite bunny man! You don’t have to worry too much about getting close because Blanc naturally does that for you. As he shows you around the Cradle, you don’t feel worried or uncomfortable. The two of you chat during your entire tour. You gobble all of Blanc’s fun facts and basics of the Cradle within minutes. He’s impressed with your memory and finds it endearing that you actually pay attention to his ramblings.

As a history person, you’d probably make connections between the Cradle and our world (especially East Asia). Although Blanc knows a few things about our world, he doesn't have extensive knowledge like you, so he’s always intrigued by whatever connections you make. He begins to ask you for more in-depth questions about East Asian history, and the two of you talk for hours. Blanc feels like he’s finally found someone who appreciates his interests with the constant discussions about the histories of the two worlds.

Blanc loves taking you for sight-seeing! Whenever he’s going somewhere that isn’t dangerous, he’ll always ask you whether you want to join him. If you’re down, then the two of you go around and make new memories. Every trip is an adventure and Blanc always gets you a plushie or something cute as a souvenir. It’s both bonding and exploring time!

While some consider Blanc’s smooth-talking as a bad thing, it also means that he knows how to comfort you when you’re feeling down or insecure. Although he doesn’t always have time to help you, the record-keeper knows exactly how to calm your nerves in a short amount of time. Even if he’s on a really tight schedule, Blanc always spares a few minutes to make sure that you’re alright.

Another Possibility: Sirius Oswald

Dangerous Fellows

I’d pair you with……….. Harry!

Not going to lie, my first choice for you is Lawrence (but no one likes his psycho, murdering ass). I could’ve written headcanons for you and pretend like he wasn’t insane, but that would ruin his character. Also, it’s not fun being paired with a killer, so I went with Harry instead! However, I do feel like you and Lawrence would do a great job at leading the team and ultimately form a deeper bond.

But enough of Lawrence, let’s get to Harry. Now Harry is definitely going to approach you first (mainly out of courtesy). He understands that it is difficult to adjust to their group, so he’ll be checking up on you quite often. Besides, he’s the only nice one so you feel more inclined to talk to him out of everyone else in the group. 

Although simple talk can be hard (since there’s not much to talk about during a zombie apocalypse), the two of you manage. You talk about your passion for writing, which Harry finds really cool. He inspires you to write a story about the gang, where everyone manages to escape without any casualties. It’s hard to combat your writer’s block, but Harry’s enthusiasm inspires you to get a strong start. Soon, this writing becomes your way of coping.

You’re able to use your fencing skills for a foundation for zombie combat. Harry is surprised and amazed that you have a strong athletic background, so he starts taking combat lessons from you. At first they’re strictly combat, but the lessons ultimately give you two more time alone for bonding. When the two of you become official, there’s more kissing than combat.

Both of you have crying sessions together. Since Harry bottles up all his troubles, he doesn’t have any other opportunity to vent his frustrations. While it may seem sad as the two of you cry and hold each other, it’s also comforting to know that neither of you is alone. If either one of you is having an episode, the other is always ready for emotional and physical support.

Another Possibility: Lawrence

[podcastlimbo]

Happy lizard kissin’!! Sorry I’m on A.I. loving bullshit rn but I was at a concert the other day and an idea for a fic popped into my head bear with me (this isn’t a fic fic it’s more scattered thoughts with some writing thrown in lmao hope y'all enjoy reading anyways?)

So it takes place in the modern Second Citadel au where everyone’s a suffering musician

I was racking my brain as to how Damien and Arum would have their first meeting bc I already wrote Arum and rillas and I think I figured it out!!

So Damien’s got some violin recital coming up and he needs to find an accompanist

He asks around his circle of musician buddies and Rilla suggests this dude Arum who comes by her music store sometimes and looks through piano books (and he’s a decent player too) and Damien is like,, why not and thus everything is arranged

But then Damien gets jitters b4 the practice since he’s never worked with a complete stranger in such a long time what if they’re completely incompatible and the recital is ruined?? Or it’s super awkward?? Damien has imposter syndrome like nobody’s business what if this super talented pianist sees through him for the sham he is??? And what would Rilla think if he didn’t get along with their mutual acquaintance??

By the time he’s able to center himself again he realizes he’s running super late and just flies into a panic again and rushes to the practice place

He’s like.. oh god the pianist can’t see me like this and covers up his anxiety with good ol false bravado

When Arum sees the violinist he’s supposed to be accompanying running into the practice room 15 minutes late and begin ordering him around inside he’s thinking ‘who the hell does this dude think he is wtf’ and they begin bickering immediately

Damien insists the Arums playing is overpowering his violin and Arum accuses Damien’s violin game of being WEAK AF

They keep finding faults in each others playing. They’ve been in there for an hour but they haven’t even played through the whole piece once.

(They’re playing this Mozart thing I heard at the concert can’t find it now but I’ll probably attach it later lol)

The entire piece through they’re just glaring at each other Damien is sawing away on the violin and Arum is slamming his hands on the keys it’s bad

In the brief times when one of them takes a break from playing the other immediately switches to virtuoso mode and tries to outperform the other

Arum had heard this piece before. Hell, he had accompanied more a few violinists who played this exact concerto. Violinists who had shown none of the attitude the way this.. Damien, did. I mean, who exactly did he think he was, marching in late, as if he owned the place, questioning his playing, his merit as a musician, when he himself played with the grace and subtlety of a stampeding elephant? 

Such thoughts were running through his head, until the solo. The solo. 

For some info this is the solo that requires the violinist to delay the resolution of the piece for minutes. and the piece just REFUSES to resolve. As for Damien, he’s finally able to pay attention to the music and is just completely in the zone 

When he started the solo, Arum lifted his hands from the keys, reaching automatically for the phone he left on the bench beside him, but stopped when he finally registered not what the violinist was playing (that he had heard too many times to count), but how he was playing it

It’s a peculiar experience, watching a fellow musician play. So often you’re so absorbed in the music, that you don’t notice how you move along with the passages run up and down. You don’t notice your furrowed brow, the way you bite your upper lip in concentration. The beads of sweat that form on your forehead at particularly difficult runs. The way your eyes subconsciously slip closed, as you play phrases practiced so often that they ring in your dreams. The ebbs and flows of your body as it shifts with every gracile movement of your bow.

Arum is entranced by Damien’s playing. He can’t help it really. He finds himself holding his breath when the violinist veers close to a perfect cadence, releasing it in a frustrated huff when he modulates to another key. 

They’re both breathless. Damien’s fingers are dancing across the violin’s fingerboard feverishly, and Arum can’t breathe as he watches, as he listens to the notes traveling higher and higher 

And he almost misses his final cue, as the piece draws to its inevitable conclusion. With a start, Arum is brought back to reality, and with all the strength he can muster, he plays the final chords that intermingle perfectly with Damien’s. Five seven one. And even though the final notes are lost to the room’s sound-sucking walls, they seem to echo in the minds of both pianist and violinist

Until all that is left is silence

Their glances catch for a moment, but to them it feels like an eternity

Damien is the first to look away. He hastily keeps his instrument, files away his sheet music, folds up his stand. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Arum does the same.

As he closes the lid of the piano, he ventures ‘so... this time next Wednesday?’

‘Tuesday, if it’s fine with you.’

[projectnero]

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: THE SHEPHERD

Ah, Mr. Amos. The Starwatcher. The Shepherd. The Survivor. There are many names that my massive friend has taken over the years, but the only one he seems to consciously retain is “Amos”. Any attempts at a first or even middle name have been met with failure, and it has been confirmed that Canadian Mountain Giants do not even adhere to a typical giant nomenclature or tribal structure; that is to say, Amos is not his clan’s name, and Mr. Amos’s refusal or inability to divulge any more information than he has already given us makes finding records of him or his tribe next to impossible, unless one of you schleps feels like hiking through the Canadian wilderness. I’ll leave the moose fighting to the RCMP, thank you very much.

I am told by Mr. Amos that remark could be construed as offensive and inaccurate to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Yet, if they do not FIGHT the moose, how do they mount it?

I am being told now that they do not ride moose.

My apologies. It seems that even they have enough sense not to pick a fight with those massive death machines.

One of these days I must have a word with Epimetheus.

Regardless of the hellish landscape my massive friend is from, he IS a dear friend of mine, and the only one amongst our company who surpasses me in age. His wisdom shows, though his age does not. He is pleasant company, if a bit quiet and reserved at times. I sometimes worry he only interacts with me out of fear of angering my patron god Apollo again -- we shall get to that part soon.

Anyhow, I suppose we should get this underway. Once again the lovely Doctor [REDACTED] has deemed herself fit to evaluate Mr. Amos’s mental state. Even though nobody asked, I’m starting to think that these psychological evaluations are just excuses to try and assign labels to that which is inherently unique. Classifying that which cannot be classified. Which of you scientists has lived for over 2000 years? Nobody? That’s what I thought.

NAME: Amos

ALIASES: Mr. Amos, Goliath, The Shepherd, The Slaughterer, The Survivor

AGE: Approximately 4,500 years old, by his own estimation

HEIGHT: 20 Meters (non-suppressed), 3 Meters (suppressed)

Note: Mr. Amos requested we use the metric system because, and I quote, “America needs to get with the times” and “Citizens of other countries might read this”. Mr. Amos is wrong on both accounts, but nonetheless I have accommodated his ridiculous request, if only because I remember what it was like to not be beholden to America’s rules. For any of you Americans scrolling through this (I’m assuming that would be all of you), his respective heights are 65 feet when not wearing his suppression amulet and 9 feet when wearing the suppression amulet. Approximately. I promise you I tried every method under the sun to get the man under 9 feet but it is impossible.

WEIGHT: 9071 Kilograms/20,000 pounds (non-suppressed), 1,360 Kilograms/3,000 pounds (suppressed)

Again, I tried every method under the sun to make this giant hunk of muscle be able to walk around without leaving craters everywhere, and 3,000 pounds seems to be the best I can get. Gods watch over you if you get in-between this man and his protein.

SPECIES: Giant/Goliath (SUBSPECIES: Canadian Mountain Giant)

NOTABLE ABILITIES:

Gods above, what CAN’T he do?

Apologies, but one cannot help but be in awe of the giant known as Amos.

For starters, with the assistance of an amulet I made specifically for him (you know, because I’m a savant), Mr. Amos can solve the problem of not being small enough for human interaction by shrinking considerably, reducing his overall mass. Your human law of conservation says this is impossible, but Apollo and Thoth spit in the face of your Einstein.

Even while in his shrunken form, Mr. Amos is proportionately strong for a man of his size. Further testing over the years has shown Mr. Amos actually retains his strength of his non-suppressed form at 100% efficiency, and his strength is actually so great that we as weaklings are incapable of differentiating between his different levels.

On a side note, have I mentioned how beautiful this man is?

No, really. This is INCREDIBLY important. When you think of a giant, a certain image comes to mind, right? Some gnarled, ugly, unwashed heap of muscles and meat who doesn’t even know what a loincloth is.

Unfortunately for my poor little heart, Mr. Amos’s species seems to have properties similar to only one other known creature: the fucking succubus. Which is just fantastic, because one of my comrades is a succubus.

This means that Mr. Amos, as well as Mr. di Carina, constantly make subtle changes to their appearance with every passing second to appear more and more beautiful, and constantly release pheromones designed to make sentient creatures of ANY gender attracted to them. This means that, somehow, if Mr. di Carina is ever rendered out of action, the fucking GIANT is our next option for seducing someone. Terrific.

A notable distinction is that succubi surpass expectations of gender; for instance, Mr. di Carina is constantly adjusting to standards of beauty, appearing male to some, and female to others, and retaining an all around feminine appearance in spite of it all. However in all known instances, Mr. Amos has only ever appeared to fit the observers ideal of an attractive male.

I feel guilty for objectifying Mr. Amos, despite how many times he has assured me it is perfectly fine. Gods grant me the strength to continue.

Mr. Amos is capable of traversing massive bodies of water and land in little to no time. The strain on his body appears to be nonexistent, though with his appetite it would be unable to tell if his body is expending more energy than is the norm.

As befitting a giant, Mr. Amos has a ridiculously high pain threshold. Many have compared the man to the fictional character “The Juggernaut”, and indeed it would be a comprehensive comparison if not for Mr. Amos’s weaknesses.

NOTABLE WEAKNESSES:

As mentioned before, Mr. Amos has been compared to the fictional Juggernaut of Marvel series fame. However, if the Juggernaut is an unstoppable force like a freight train, then Mr. Amos is more of a... unstoppable Sherman. He has traded Mr. Juggernaut’s weakness to psychic powers and a binding contract to a deity for moving about as fast as a turtle.

I should clarify. Mr. Amos is not slow by any means, but the mere power in his steps and his dense body means that gravity is constantly weighing down on him, and were he to pick up speed, the already massive craters he calls footsteps would eventually dig through to the Earth’s core and he would all die. Mr. Amos moves deliberately and once he reaches his target, they will be decimated. However, this makes hit and run tactics very disadvantageous, and instead makes Mr. Amos a useful front line combatant and siege unit; I wish that we had been able to make use of Mr. Amos’s abilities when fighting in the Somme.

As mentioned before, as the biggest member of Project: Nero, Mr. Amos requires a massive amount of sustenance. I have seen 90 nobles of the most wasteful houses go through less food in a week-long feast than Mr. Amos does. Apparently this insatiable appetite does not disturb the ration officers; I saw one of them reading a book by some Welsh author about giants and such and the ‘why’ became clear.

Due to his inability to be stopped combined with his high maintenance, we are currently only really able to bring Mr. Amos’s giant form out as an ultimate trump card... and because the chaos caused would not be able to hide our existence to the world anymore. The government only authorizes the transformation if they don’t want any survivors or witnesses.

Subsequently, this treatment of Mr. Amos as an emergency-only monster, deemed to chaotic compared to the likes of even Mr. Takahashi have lead to some... harsh treatment of Mr. Amos by the human outliers of the science team. It has not been good for Mr. Amos’s self-esteem and were it not for the fact that I have no real authority and we must meet a human quota, I would order these hateful beasts to be executed painfully and without mercy.

As of recently, Mr. Amos’s age has finally caught up with him, at least mentally, and the anguish of his perfect memory and knowledge of the past has caused him to become closed-off, lowering team morale.

Make no mistake. I may be the de facto leader of this little ragtag group of freaks, but Mr. Amos is the heart.

PSYCHOLOGICAL DIAGNOSES AND PERSONALITY TRAITS:

Mr. Amos has a severe case of survivor’s guilt, as well as imposter syndrome, though his feelings of fraudulence appear to be completely unfounded as the man has been nothing but forthcoming.

As of Mr. Amos’s deployment to Vietnam and his subsequent return home, routine psychological evaluations seemed to indicate development of post-traumatic stress disorder and late-onset dissasociative identity disorder, if there truly is such a thing as late-onset DID. It is more likely that the giant has been battling with this disorder his entire life, and the harsh conditions and psychological trauma suffered while in Vietnam simply made him unable to mask his suffering anymore. I cannot imagine what it must be like to suffer for over 4,000 years in silence. The man has been suffering from survivor’s guilt for over 2,000 years as well, indicating that whatever happened to his tribe, it happened long before Europeans ever made contact with the Americas.

Mr. Amos seems to have an intense fear of death, as if the concept never occurred to him before.

Behind a deeply troubled man lies a heart almost as massive as he is. No, not literally. That would be biologically impossible. As Dr. Fero previously stated, Mr. Amos is certainly the most beloved member of his team... by his fellow squadmates, at least. I have nothing against Mr. Amos, do not get me wrong. However, the also aforementioned treatment of Mr. Amos by my fellow humans does not make me eager to approach him and inevitably cause more pain.

Mr. Amos is a deeply spiritual man, and seems to be in tune with nature. He is all-loving, and this attitude seems to endear him to everyone, especially the mostly prickly Agent Shrub. Yes, that was a pun, and no, I will not tell you why. I suppose you’ll find out once we get to Agent Shrub’s profile.

Even despite his fear of humans, Mr. Amos has made efforts to understand us - something that I cannot say my colleagues have done. Mr. Amos is a skilled baker and farmhand, and his skill levels equal those of one with PhDs in horticulturalism, herbalism, agriculturalism, animal behavior, science, and even culinary arts. I cannot describe the cakes he makes, for they are filled with something that we humans cannot even grasp. When we say something is made with “love”, I’m not sure we even know what “love” is. When I first tasted some of Mr. Amos’s pastries, I cried. Everyone always does. It tastes divine. It reminds me of... well, I shouldn’t get into details of my own life.

Mr. Amos has shown signs of a crippling loneliness and every time I look at him I want to help. I know I cannot, but when I catch glimpses of his eyes I see a man in need of love.

Note: The rest of the lines have been scribbled out, crossed out, drowned in white-out, and are evidently too embarrassing for Doctor [REDACTED] to repeat.

BACKGROUND:

Hello, all. I will try to keep this short.

My name is incomprehensible in the human tongue, and so I go by Amos. I once had a first and middle name, but the shame of losing my tribe has caused me to discard them.

I couldn’t protect them, and I cannot protect the ones I care about. I will not lie to you and pretend that I read Carter or Yvette’s analyses of me. I will instead tell you the plain, hard facts of my life.

I was born to a loving mother named Viktoria, and a just-as-loving father named Isaac. For a while, life was happy. Giants of my type generally live longer than humans can comprehend; death by old age would not happen until thousands of civilizations would rise and fall. I did not have to worry about mortality. Even when I died, I knew the Gods would reincarnate me as something infinitely more beautiful, such as a gust of wind, or a bird, or a flower. Such is life.

Our clan was exempt from most of the horrors that other giants faced; there was no such thing as war for us. There was no shortage of supplies, no shortage of responsibilities or things to do. We were shepherds. Farmers, bakers, herbalists, apothecaries, we were the providers, the caretakers of this world. Epimetheus’s favored tribe, we carried on long after he and Prometheus were punished for their hubris.

Our clan cared for all the sacred, exotic animals of the different pantheons, but chief amongst them were the Greeks. Athena’s owls, Poseidon’s stallions, Dionysus’s leopards... the most important were Apollo’s sacred cattle. For a while we were happy. Good at our jobs.

And perhaps if that peace had lasted, you would not be hearing from me.

When humans first came to the continent, we welcomed them with open arms. They were kind and kept to themselves; they held much of the same views about land as we did. Unfortunately, humans carry so many viral diseases that they even poison each other accidentally. It was no surprise, then, that left and right giants started to come down with what was only called “the pestilence”. With fewer farmers to tend to the vast fields, to take care of the animals, our crops and livestock dwindled. Panic and mass hysteria set in. Some giants left to try to feast on the very humans that had brought this plague -- but that in and of itself is against the nature of giants. Hatred is not in our veins. We do not resent mankind for bringing sickness. It is simply the will of the Gods.

And so those who feasted on human flesh were stripped of their clan names and their rights, marked as monsters.

But the pestilence and famine continued, and finally death came to us. In Christian mythos, there is a fourth horseman, and if you know who he is, then you should be able to predict what came next.

War. Infighting broke out amongst us. I was hardly a child; 2000 years old. My parents, who should have lived for tens of thousands of years more, were cut down in the blink of an eye. So enraged and desperate where we, so powerful was the cursed horseman’s influence, that we made weapons that should not have been able to kill us, and yet did -- through the power of hatred or through ingenuity, I do not know. What I do remember was seeing my former clansmen feasting on the remains of my parents. Once again they had turned to the unthinkable, the horrible, in order to survive this horrible time.

When the war was over, thankfully the winning side were not the cannibals. The cannibals were not only marked as monsters, but it was decided that they should be executed as well. So disgusting and long-lasting were War’s repugnant effects that once we learned how to kill each other, we still used it. They were killed. It was the will of the Gods.

With our quelled numbers, it was theorized that surely we should be able to survive on the food now, yes? No.

Giants still starved. Babies passed due to the pestilence. And we still killed one another.

Eventually my more weak-willed kin gave up hope. Truly there WAS no way of the Gods. They had abandoned us.

And once the Gods abandoned us, why should we keep ourselves from taking what was no longer sacred, but instead sustenance?

I watched in horror and fear as the four horsemen left before my very eyes. With each bloodied hand that dug into a bull or cow, I could feel the gentle warmth of the sun turn to a blistering fire.

Before my very eyes, the four horsemen were replaced by one angry God.

Apollo vaporized my tribe. I was the only one not to eat the cattle. No, I had instead prayed every day to Apollo as I lovingly tended to his remaining cows.

And for this, he spared me.

The rest is all relative.

Learn from my mistakes. Please.

Do not lose faith.