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#(it's no wonder these two became such dysfunctional adults - man...)
soysaucevictim · 3 months
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Thinking abt the Sides' last names in my AUs just got me wanting to highlight the iZ!twins.
Their dad was Spanish (like Spain Spanish) new money, Rómulo Amós Ortiz. Pharmaceuticals CEO - the kinda asshole who would price hike insulin and epi-pens. 0/10, awful human being and distinctly NOT Dad of The Year material.
Their mom was Italian old money, Mara F. Ortiz-Vuitton. Besides heiress status, also a CEO to an MLM and also all around terrible woman. She (and Rómulo) left a lot of parenting to hired help.
The name alluding to fortune and luck didn't mean much - they were abusive to the twins in different directions - really driving that Golden Child and Black Sheep wedge something fierce since the two were at least 12. Things just went to shit after Remus fell off that scaffolding...
Roman left slowly burning that candle at both ends trying to please them, while being deeply emotionally neglected. Remus just stopped giving a shit, once he became The Designated Patient.
So was it any wonder why, for a time, those two had taken on pseudonymous surnames when they struck out for themselves?
Roman went the Nic Cage Route, not wanting play into nepotism on his birth name alone. Alejo had a nice ring to it. Being a "defender/helper" really vibed to him... a desire that the Dead Enders took advantage of.
Remus went for obfuscation and kind of crass for his "pedigree". He wanted fuck all to do with his family and went with Bacallao. Nothing fancier than a reference to fishing for cod.
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gaymormonmike · 1 year
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Conversion
I want to share my thoughts on  conversion therapy. In 1969 after 5 years of riotous living as a gay man in the closet, I decided I wanted a more normal sounding life of marriage to a woman and to have children. At that time, the only conversion I knew about ( aversion and shock therapy etc.) was unacceptable to me. I went into psychoanalysis but my doctor told me that while converting could be my goal, it was not his goal for me . I did learn a lot about myself and actually became more comfortable with my gay sex self. I also started dating women. With nothing to go by from my therapist or in books, I believed that if I could marry a woman, my gay self would go away. In 1973 I got married to a woman who knew I had been gay. We  both  believed that period of my life was over. Probably no surprise to queer people that it was not. After I joined the church, so the last 30 years of my marriage, and now 40 years later, I was and am celibate. I have gay desires , fantasies but do not act on them. I have always had a temple recommend and worked in a temple for 20 years.  After joining the  church, I felt I had to come out to church leaders and to my wife. I sought help. I was comfortable with the title of having unwanted same sex attraction. I got involved in a church sponsored group that later became Evergreen. They believed in the works of Mobley, Nicholosi and others who believed being gay was a choice that you could change. I bought into that especially due to my childhood trauma, abuse from my father and the lack of a good male relationship growing up and into adulthood. While I did not go through conversion therapy, I bought into Exodus and both my wife and I attended Exodus groups for over a year. I did learn about addiction and dysfunctional families and  other good stuff that helped us in our marriage. I was loyal to my wife and for last 30 years of our marriage, I was having relations with only her. But she never really trusted me again and was possessive and jealous of my relationships with women and men. She decided to divorce me without discussing it with me. I never was told exactly why. I was able to change or add to my sexual identity. I wanted married life so much, I just did it. We raised two wonderful children and have 4 grand kids. There are still groups and therapist that treat people with the idea of converting their sexual identity. I believe that is OK. If someone, as an adult decides they want to go that route, I support them. It is just another option out there and I do not see them as an enemy. I am not in favor of those who preach the change is required by God . I was involved in a virtual group with a lot of men who see their sexual identity (SSA)  as unwanted. I understand that and was that way in my life for years. The LDS church does more harm than good to queer people. That saddens and frustrates  me. I had to work through a lot of things including SSA identity before I was ready to find my queer self and live with it and love myself with it. If my wife had been willing, I would still be married to her. I am happier at this point in my life than any other time. It was such confusion and pain when I could not accept my true self.  I understand if someone wants to try adding to or changing which lifestyle or gender they identify with. People who want to love and support them come in a lot of varieties.  My story is unique to me and it took tremendous desire and will power for me to change and I NEVER got rid of my gay desires. I would repeat those decisions that got me to accept and find my hetero side and to have the opportunity I had to have children. I realize that marriage and child rearing are available to queer people now but that was not the case when I wanted to change. If you have questions or thoughts, please share them.
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rojasholder48 · 1 month
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Walking Holidays In Italy For Fantastic Food, Fun And Fresh Mountain Air
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sincerelyasomebody · 3 years
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Two Became Three || Johnny "Coco" Cruz & Leticia "Letty" Cruz
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(GIF: @angels-reyes)
A/N: With the awesome response for Mama, I decided to write up a "pre-Mama" setting. I hope you all enjoy it! If I'm being honest this Cruz family dynamic is likely to become a series of sorts👀. Because these two deserve so much more😭😫. Coco and Johnny are used interchangeably. If the Spanish translations are incorrect, please let me know. 
Characters/Pairings: Coco x Reader (romantic partnership) ▪︎ Letty x Gabby (friendship) ▪︎ Gabby x EZ (mentioned) ☆ Bishop (mentioned) ▪︎ Chucky (mentioned) ▪︎ Mayans MC (mentioned)
Summary: The start to a wonderful, dysfunctional yet endearing family. 
Warnings: angst, fluff, language 
Word Count: 1829
- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -
The living room was becoming (Y/N)'s personal race track as she continuously walked around the coffee table in the centre. Her eyes would dart between the landline and her phone. She tried to calm herself down, but the 'what ifs' going off in her mind wouldn't allow her to do so. The familiar rumble of Cocos truck stopped her pacing as she jumped onto the couch. Pulling the edge of the curtain up, she was momentarily blinded by the headlights flashing at her. 
Once she spotted the teenager in the passenger side, she let out a sigh of relief. (Y/N) readjusted her body on the couch and waited for the pair to walk inside. She braced herself for the argument. 
The front door and screen door opened up with Coco leaning against them, "what the fuck were you thinking, Leticia?" 
"You're overreacting," she replied and headed straight for the kitchen. 
"You were at a college party!" Coco yelled as he slammed both doors, "how the fuck did you even get there?" 
She opened up a cabinet and grabbed a muesli bar, "I… just got there," shrugging her shoulders she tore the bar open, "nothing was gonna happen." 
Coco walked over and stood at the entrance of the kitchen, "carajo! The only reason nothing fucking happened was because I showed up!"
Letty turned her attention to (Y/N), "anything you'd like to add?" When she wasn't given a response, she scoffed, "as if I give a fuck what you think."
She brushed past Coco and walked down the hallway. The slamming of a door let the adults know she was in her bedroom. (Y/N) took a deep breath as she got to her feet and stood in front of her man.
"Don't do it." 
He arched his eyebrow, "you think I'm gonna let her disrespect you like that?" he shook his head and pecked her forehead, "ain't fucking happening." 
Letty had moved in with the pair about two months ago and during that time she took full advantage of being away from the clutches of her grandmother. With her newfound freedom she had been disappearing (or "exploring" as she called it) different parts of Santo Padre whenever she felt like it. Sometimes she'd go off on her own and other times she'd take Gabby. 
Unfortunately, this particular night was different. Gabby was out on a date with her boyfriend Ez (the newest patch member of the Mayans) which meant she didn't join Letty on her excursion. Thankfully she was able to provide the details of where to find her when (Y/N) called her in a panic about the teenager not being home. Once she received the details, she thanked her and immediately rang up Coco to inform him of his daughter's whereabouts. 
Before he could make his way to the hallway Coco's burner buzzed. (Y/N) didn't need to read the message to know that he was most likely being told about some club business. Despite it nearing the early hours of the morning, she knew that sometimes Bishop would call an impromptu meeting. 
"At least you're already awake?" (Y/N) offered as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hands played with his hair.
"I guess," his eyes darted towards the hallway and back at her, "if she ends up running off while I'm at the clubhouse–"
"I'll call you." 
He kissed her and savoured the moment before pulling away from her. Walking over to the front door, he glanced back at her and blew a kiss. (Y/N) chuckled, grabbing it and holding it to her chest, completing their goodbye routine. 
She turned around as he shut both doors and locked them. The moment she heard his bike start up she decided it was time to get to bed. She was due to go back to work in a few hours and wanted to sleep before having to do so. 
-- ♡ -- ◇ --
After Letty's eventful Friday night, Johnny decided he was done giving her chances. Her phone was taken away and the only times she could leave the house was for school and if Chucky needed an extra set of hands. At first the teenager continued to rebel until she realised another day would be added to her punishment. (Y/N) was proud of the way her man was stepping into the role of a parent. Letty was working into her third week of punishment (she had another week left) and (Y/N) could see the change in her. 
Whenever (Y/N) entered the house, she was greeted with a 'hello'. It may seem little, but Letty acknowledging her presence (in a positive manner) definitely kept a smile on her face. Letty was helping around the house more and started joining Coco and (Y/N) for dinner instead of eating in her room. Coco was also seeing changes in his daughter and hoped she would continue to make positive changes. He had left for a run a couple of days ago and would hopefully return soon.
The sound of drawers opening and closing was the reason (Y/N) woke up. Her eyebrows furrowed at realising she wasn't in her bed and then remembered she had fallen asleep while watching (television show). Looking to her left, she noticed the outline of the teen moving about. She smiled when she felt the softness of a blanket, realising Letty must've thrown it over her. Slowly getting to her feet, she stretched and reached for her phone. The numbers 04:22 blared on her screen.
(Y/N) got up and switched on the light, causing the teenager to jump, "are you looking for the chocolate chip cookies I baked?" Just like her dad, Letty had a sweet tooth. (Y/N) chuckled and pointed towards the top cabinet on her right, "it's in the tin at the back." 
Letty waited for (Y/N) to walk out of the kitchen, but instead the woman opened up the fridge and pulled out the carton of milk. She watched as she grabbed two glasses and poured the milk inside. The teenager grabbed the chair and climbed on top of it to reach the cabinet. She opened it up and pushed some items out of the way to grab the tin. Closing the cabinet, she stepped off the chair and dragged it back to the table.
(Y/N) was already sitting at the table and pushed a glass of milk across it for her. Letty took a seat and opened up the container and pushed it between them. She waited for (Y/N) to help herself to a cookie, before grabbing one of her own. 
"I'm sorry for waking you up," the teenager gave a sheepish grin, "I was trying my hardest not to be loud." 
(Y/N) smiled, "it's alright," she bit into her slightly soaked cookie, "now you know where to go… but, you've gotta make sure to put it back in the same cabinet you brought the container out of." 
"Why?" 
"Because then your dad'll know where all the extra cookies are." 
Letty laughed, "you hide the extra cookies because of my dad?" 
"Yes and that cabinet," (Y/N) pointed to it, "is the only one where I can cover the container without anything looking out of place." She dunked her cookie into her glass, "remember that for next time, okay?" 
"Okay." 
The pair continued to munch on their cookies (with the occasional dunking) and sip their milk. (Y/N) enjoyed the comfortable silence that fell among them. Her eyes drifted towards the living room and remembered the blanket. 
"Thank you." 
"For what?" Letty asked.
"Covering me with the blanket." 
"Oh… I… uh, didn't want you to get cold." 
(Y/N) smiled and was about to talk about something else when she heard the rumbling of Coco's motorcycle. Her eyes widened and she scrambled to drink what was left of her milk, closed the container and passed it to Letty. 
"Quick before he comes." 
Letty picked up the tin and dragged the chair to where it was moments ago. She jumped up onto it and pushed the container towards the back of the cabinet. Making sure it stayed hidden behind the assortment of items inside of it. She jumped off the chair and pushed it underneath the table just as Coco entered the living. His eyebrows rose when he took in his Old Lady and daughter standing in the kitchen. 
"What's going on here?" He asked as he walked towards the duo.
(Y/N) chuckled and brought him into a hug, she kissed him on the lips and cheek before stepping back, "just chatting, everyone okay?" 
He nodded, "we all made it back. Don't worry," his attention switched to Letty, "mija, everything okay?" 
Letty nodded, "yeah…" 
Coco slowly approached her and kissed the top of her head, "that's good to hear." 
Before he could move back, the teenager wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. (Y/N) smiled as she watched Coco gently rub her back and kiss her forehead. She loved seeing the father-daughter pair show affection to each other. Letty released her hold and took a step back.
With a blink of an eye, Letty pulled (Y/N) into a hug. (Y/N)'s eyes grew wide at the contact (so did Cocos) and before she could return the gesture, the teenager had let go. Letty smiled at the pair and then turned on her heel to leave the room. (Y/N) watched the teenager disappear around the corner, before she glanced at Coco with a bright smile. She did a little shimmy moving towards him and held onto his arms as she jumped up and down. 
"Coco… she – did you see that? She hugged me! And she smiled! Oh, she's got a beautiful smile," (Y/N) stopped jumping, "wow… I-I can't believe it. I got a hug and a smile, Coco!" 
He laughed as she danced around him, reaching out he pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her. (Y/N) squealed when his fingers trailed up and down her hip. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head up. Her eyes sparkled with joy. 
Unbeknownst to the pair, Letty had done a U-turn at the end of the hallway. She decided at the last second to ask (Y/N) about something. However, at the sound of excitement she paused and peered around the doorframe. A smile stretched across her face, when she spotted Coco and (Y/N) embracing. She looked away when Coco reached down to grab (Y/N) by the ass and slip his tongue into her mouth.  
"Gross," she shook her head and made her way back down the hallway, "I didn't need to fucking see that." 
Despite the recent image in her mind that she was trying her best to get rid of, the teenager couldn't help but feel as though she finally belonged. 
This was home.
-♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -
Spanish Translations: 
Carajo - fuck
Mija - girl
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montosmadman · 3 years
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I was tagged by @soy-celeste ages ago. This was hard but also super rewarding because I really got to take a deep dive in the murky depths of my own music library. Thanks for thinking of me, Cata💕
Task: choose TEN SONGS that describe your personal aesthetic / how you see yourself. Bonus points if you write a little explanation for each song, that‘s not a must though.
List under a read more because it turned out really long and includes some very personal and possibly triggering mental health stuff.
I'm tagging @capitanogiorgio @hendos @furiousflamewolf @checoswin and @diegoalvesisgod
1. Nakashima Mika - 僕が死のうと思ったのは
The title loosely translates to "The reason I thought I'd die" or "The time I thought I'd die". Yes, I went there right off the bat.
Let's get something straight: I'm not suicidal. I have never been actively suicidal, despite struggling with depression and anxiety most of my teenage/adult life. However, what this song captures for me is the feeling when you're not actively thinking about killing yourself, but you do have this empty feeling when you think there's no point for you being alive. And that's something I'm very familiar with.
There are a couple lines I wanna highlight, even though the whole song hits me very hard whenever I listen to it:
その木漏れ日でうたた寝したら、虫の死骸と土になれるかな
If I lie down beneath the sunlight streaming through the trees, will I become like the dirt and insect remains?
あなたのような人が生きてる世界に少し期待するよ
If people like you are living in this world, then maybe it’s alright to hope a little too.
The first line does what I talked about to above: it's the feeling when you just lie down and wonder if anything would change if you just disappeared. The second line -- last one of the song -- has more hope. It's when you find a reason to believe in the future and realize there is still a reason to live. Personally, I'm trying to hang very hard on that last thought even when the world seems to be against me.
(Full translation in a pinned comment under the Youtube video)
2. The Ark - Little Dysfunk You
No essay here. I just needed to have The Ark on the list because they're the official soundtrack of my life, the first band whose album I bought myself, and who taught me it was okay not to fit in. I even have a tattoo that says "a little dysfunk" because my best friend and I have been relating to this song long before either one of us realized we weren't neurotypical. It's the very dysfunctional ode to our friendship, and I love it.
3. Elton John - Rocket Man
I feel like this might be a universal experience growing up neurodiverse and/or an outsider. You spend years feeling like you're alone in space, on another planet, and you want to connect with people but at the same time know that once you come back, you still won't be the person others want or expect you to be. The challenge is to accept that and realize it's okay and you don't need to change yourself for others. And it really is hard when you're raised in a society where the odds are stacked against you.
4. Sanni - Jos mä oon oikee
Look, I'm giving you something in Finnish too!
Sanni is one of the Finnish artists whose breakthrough I originally missed because I was living abroad. I only properly discovered her a couple years after moving back, when I was driving a lot for my work and hence listening to the radio much more than I used to. Her songs just kept standing out from the rest: her lyrics had this amazing depth even when she was singing about mundane stuff -- like, she was finding these painful truths I hadn't ever spoken but felt very clearly.
That said, I had to choose the one song that's actually very upfront with this idea of being an outsider and not feeling like a part of this world. The title translates to "If I am real" and that pretty much sums it up. It's a song about feeling lonely in the middle of a crowded room, feeling like no one sees you or cares what you do. I personally have this habit of taking a step back and observing people rather than getting involved -- and even when I do, it rarely feels like it's really me out there, because I'm so used to masking and acting like everyone else just to fit in, you know?
I'll finish this off with my favourite verse, translated by yours truly. The last line especially hits home super hard no matter how many times I hear it.
Rautatieasema maanantaina ruuhkaisa Kaikilla tuntuu olevan kiire ja suunta Mä oon ulkopuolella vaik seison sisällä Jos oon jo kotona miten voi olla koti-ikävä
The railway station on Monday is crowded Everyone seems to be in a rush and have a direction I'm outside even though I'm standing inside How can I feel homesick when I'm already home
5. Shobha - Last Exit To Freedom
Full disclosure: Degrassi has been one of my comfort series for many, many years. When this song was first introduced in Next Class, it hit me really hard because it was woven into this whole storyline about depression and suicide, which at the time spoke to me a lot. I repeat, I have never been suicidal, but I do get the headspace that could drive people into it.
However, listening to it again now, it's mostly the message of hope that shines through to me. It's a song that can take two very different readings depending on what your own baggage is. And the series actually acknowledges that later on, which I think is not only beautiful but also extremely important.
There's empty places in my life and I need to breathe There's empty spaces on the map waiting there for me
I've never felt more free than when I actually drop my responsibilities and just go where I want to go. I need that space to breathe, and that's why it has always been such a relief when I could just pack up and start over in a new place. Some might call it running away from my troubles -- and they wouldn't be completely wrong -- but that doesn't change the fact that I've always valued my own freedom above any arbitrary societal norms.
6. Scandinavian Music Group - Näin minä vihellän matkallani
SMG is another one of those bands I grew up on and have seen live several times, so they needed to be here. This song is more on the "aesthetic" end of scale than how I see myself. In fact, I've many times hoped I could be like the narrator of this song. I'll give you a couple of verses to explain:
Kun minulta viedään kaikki Autan kantamaan Ja kun lopulta kaadun Teen sen näyttävästi
When everything's taken from me I'll help them carry it And when I finally fall I'll do it with a flair
Minä vihellän matkallani Näin minä vihellän matkallani Jos sen on oltava niin Olkoon sitten niin
I'm whistling on my journey See how I'm whistling on my journey If this is how things have to be Then so be it
It's this carefree attitude. Laughing in the face of hardship and controversy. There's another amazing line about getting back to the saddle after you fall and swearing you'd do it all over again. I've never been able to do that, because I carry all my old failures and pains so close to the surface, and could never just shake them off with a shrug, no matter how minor.
But on another level, I keep hearing from people who I thought knew me that I don't seem depressed. And who can blame them: on the outside, it probably looks like I bounce back from hardships really fast, because I'm so used to masking my issues that the moment I'm physically capable of doing it, I will. So you might say this song is a picture of my outer self, though it hardly mirrors what's really going on.
7. Queen - Don't Stop Me Now
I'm a firm believer that if my life was a teen movie, this is the song I'd have playing in the final scene where I'd just go "fuck that" and started dancing with @mirkwoodstock in the middle of the parking lot of something. It's my ultimate party anthem, the one that always has me dancing and singing along no matter where I am.
Back when we were at the university, Nanna and I used to go to this rock'n'roll club in town and they'd always play Don't Stop Me Now close to the end of the night, and it really became our song. Like, no matter how shitty I felt, when it came on, I'd be there, and so would she. And that's why it also deserves to be on the list.
8. Blind Channel - Died Enough For You
Throwing a rare newer song into the mix. The moment I heard this song, I knew I'd be listening to it a lot. There's also an acoustic version if you're not a fan of the genre or if you just wanna have a different perspective. Blind Channel is also representing Finland in Eurovision next week, and I'm living for it.
Advertising aside, Died Enough For You takes me to some really dark times in my life. I've been in relationships, both romantic and not, where I've been carrying the other person and giving so much of myself, risking my own mental health (which was not that good to begin with) and not getting much in return. There comes a point where you have to prioritize yourself and admit that dragging yourself into the same abyss is not going help anyone. Unfortunately, usually it takes more strength to admit that and leave than to stay in the relationship that's hurting you.
I'm still talking to some of these people, but I've learned to give myself a permission to sign off when I notice that by helping them I'm only hurting myself more. Someone else's wellbeing cannot be my responsibility when I'm struggling to keep myself afloat. And I truly hope everyone who is supporting me also knows that.
9. Aqua Timez - 真夜中のオーケストラ
Title translates to "Midnight Orchestra". Yes, it's from Naruto. I discovered it back when I was still more involved in anime fandom stuff, and fell for it again year ago when I binged the anime when to lockdowns started, because I needed an escape.
And what an escape it was. Have you ever heard a song and immediately went "I need a tattoo of this", or is that just me? I'm probably not going to get a tattoo because I don't trust non-Japanese artists to get the kanjis right, but the song still captures something very real about loneliness that's not really visible but still very much there. Like, the moment when you meet a person you can truly relate to and for the first time realize you'd been feeling lonely all that time. That's what this song describes to me.
Below are a few verses towards the end of the song. I've bolded the one that first caught my attention (and which I still have as the title of my Japan sideblog).
真夜中の詩が叫んだ「僕ほんとうは独りが 嫌いだ 大嫌いだ」 独りぼっちで 生きてゆけてしまうなんてこと
The song of midnight cried out "I truly hate being alone more than anything" I hate to go on living completely alone…
幸せなんて 小さなスプーンで掬えるくらいで充分なんだ 分け合える人がいるか いないかだけ
All I need is being able to scoop happiness with a tiny spoon so long as I have someone to share it with
(Full translation)
真夜中の詩は叫ぶよ「僕ほんとうは 僕ほんとうは 淋しかった」 太陽の眩しさに かき消されても
The song of midnight cried out "I was truly, truly… lonely" Even if I were to be erased by the sun's radiance
10. Jenni Vartiainen (Apulanta) - Mato
This song, named "Worm", was originally released by Finnish rock band Apulanta in 1997. The lyrics, while they might make sense as individual statements, are basically gibberish when you combine them into one piece and try to understand the meaning. There is none. Anyways, the version I chose is a remake by another artist, first performed on the Finnish version of The Best Singers format. It doesn't make any more sense, I just like it better because Jenni is hot and she made it so much fun.
And the reason it's on this list? Welcome to my brain, folks! Sometimes, especially when I'm overwhelmed by lots of external stimuli, my mind tends to just wander wherever the hell it pleases and make connections even I don't get. It also likes to forget the stuff I said just a second a go, so I can switch subjects on the go without even noticing. It's very soothing to have music that doesn't require me to make those connections when that happens.
And now, I shall close this massive post with the first verse of this masterpiece:
Minä tahdon ulos, tahdon ulos kattilasta Minä tahdon pelastaa vielä sinutkin kiehumasta Minä tahdon lentää ulos vessan ikkunasta Minä tahdon tietää kaiken teidän karkkimaasta
I want out, I want out of this kettle I also want to save you from boiling I want to fly out of the toilet window I want to know everything about your candy land
Stay safe and take care of yourselves my dears💕
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nadziejastar · 3 years
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Seeing that Roxas, Axel, and Xion was a dysfunctional friendship, would it have been better if Lea had left the trio and moved on at the end of KH3? Not necessarily shutting the door on them, but their friendship going forward wouldn't be as close. What are your thoughts?
"{Kingdom Hearts is] not too realistic, but I do want my players to grasp a sense of reality from it as well," Nomura said. "For example, I'm sure you had friends when you were young, a good group of friends, but as you grow older things change and it doesn't always stay the same."
I think that would be the most realistic outcome, yes. Although KH is not a realistic series, I did always enjoy the bits of realism that were there in the relationships. It added a sense of relatability and authenticity.
Hayner: Well, we probably can’t be together forever. But isn’t that just part of growing up? What's important isn't how often we see each other, but how often we think about each other. Right?
This is realistic. Once they graduate middle and high school, and become adults, they're probably going to embark on their own paths in life. One day they'll probably marry and have kids. I think they'll always stay friends. They'll never lose each other for good. But it's unlikely that they'll be able to meet up every day in their usual spot, like they did when they were kids. They'll always have those memories, but things will inevitably change.
Axel: Nothing lasts forever, man. Least of all for a bunch of Nobodies. But, you know, hanging out every day isn’t the only thing that matters. We’ll still have one another, even if that changes. As long as we remember one another, we’ll never be apart. Got it memorized?
And that's the feeling I got from RAX, too. The previous day (Day 95), Roxas and Xion were talking about how they wished they remembered their pasts. Then the next day (Day 96) Axel says the above quote. He knew all along that Roxas was related to Ventus and Xion was related to Kairi. He always knew that one day, they would probably remember who they were before, and there would be a time when things changed and they wouldn't be together anymore.
“I wonder how long it’ll be okay to do this.”
Axel stared at Roxas. Maybe Roxas is feeling the build up of doing the same kind of missions day after day. Every day, Roxas was given the same mission, to subdue heartless. But it couldn’t be helped, Axel thought. Roxas was special. To the Organisation, and to Axel. Just like how the Organisation can’t let Roxas know anything, I don’t think I’ll let him know anything myself.
This is betraying Roxas, isn’t it?
“We might not always be able to be together,” murmured Axel, without realising.
“Huh?” This time, it was Roxas who looked at Axel.
“What’s with you, don’t make such a scary face.”
Axel turned his face away from Roxas, and bit his ice cream. Roxas didn’t know of Axel’s unrest. And, Axel didn’t know of Roxas’ unrest.
“We can’t be together forever… huh…” Roxas muttered.
“We gotta make heaps of memories, right,” Axel said, laughing.
“What are you on about,” laughed Roxas, pulled in.
This conversation between Roxas and Axel happens in the short story "Roxas: Somewhere In Time". Before Xion was even created. Axel knew that he and Roxas couldn't be together forever. Why? Because Axel was keeping Roxas's past a secret from him, and he knew that one day, Roxas was going to find out. And he'd leave the organization to learn more about himself.
Axel already remembered his past. It's just that the person from his past had changed and they weren't close anymore. Axel was using Roxas to fill the void and replace Isa. So, he wanted to deny Roxas knowledge of his past, so he could hold onto him longer. And Axel knew that he was being selfish.
“Way back when I was a kid, I met this other weird kid. Somehow we became fast friends. Never saw him again— nearly forgot about him, too. Then I met Roxas. Couldn’t believe it. The two of ’em were identical. Oh, I didn’t tell Roxas. Didn’t want him to go vanishing on me, too.”
That had to be a secret Axel held dearly. He hadn’t even told Roxas, after all.
“The kid’s name was Ventus. He’s one of the lost Keyblade wielders we’re looking for. Think he’s still got me memorized?”
I think Axel letting Roxas go was part of the DNA of their friendship. I think that in KH3, Lea was meant to re-establish his friendship with Roxas through Ventus. And Ventus had his own past. He had two best friends he wanted to be with forever, his own home world to go back to, and his dream to be a Keyblade master.
Of course, Axel and Roxas and Xion would always remain good friends. Even moreso after they reunite as Lea and Ventus and Kairi. Lea, Ventus, and Kairi will always cherish those memories of sitting on the clock tower together. But no. Realistically, I don't think that things would go back to being exactly the same as they were in 358/2 Days.
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charlie-daltonn · 4 years
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𝑊𝑒 𝑂𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑆𝑒𝑒 𝐸𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝐴𝑡 𝑊𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐹𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑠
╔═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════╗
𝑊𝑒 𝑂𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑆𝑒𝑒 𝐸𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝐴𝑡 𝑊𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠
                     𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐹𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑠
╚═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════╝
 A/N: Hey guys look I did it! Kind of Umbrella Academy fluff! For whoever requested it like months ago!!!!
To say the Hargreaves were a dysfunctional family would be an understatement. One big ass understatement. They very rarely got along, and when it did someone was being made fun of. There was one of them who everyone did get along with however. Y/N Hargreaves. Whether they were listening to Luther talk about his problems, helping Diego with his stutter, helping Allison cut out articles in magazines, or helping Klaus through nightmares. They were there for everyone, and they all did their best to be there for them. While this was all true when they were kids, once they, except one, became young adults it became a little harder to help everyone.
Y/N had been with Klaus all day. He had wanted some waffles then wanted to go running all around the city. They ended up at a  7/11.
While they were inside, Y/N got a call from Allison.
“Hey Ally, what’s up?”
“Can you come back to the house? Dad died and we are having a funeral for him in the back yard. If you don’t wanna come I understand.
"No I'll come, and I'll bring Klaus with me. Is it today or tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow. Make sure you bring a black outfit for the service."
"Will do! See you later Ally! Love you!"
"Love you too Y/N/N!"
Y/N grabbed Klaus by the collar of his shirt to drag him away from whatever he was doing, in hindsight it was for the better since he was loading candy bars into the pockets of his leather pants. Muttering swears, Y/N drags Klaus out of the grocery store as he waves goodbye to the unsuspecting cashier. 
Walking onto the bustling streets of Hamilton,(I WANNA BE IN THE ROOM WHERE IT HAPPENED! Sorry I had to.) Y/N and Klaus pushed their way in the direction of Y/N’s house to pack and get ready for dear old dad’s funeral. 
“Y/N I cannot believe daddy is dead! I mean it is about time! He had to be a t least 10 millio-”
“KLAUS! I love you but please stop talking. You have been babbling since we got out of the 7/11.”
This was true, as Klaus had been going on a rant about almost any little thing he had seen whether it was a dog or homeless man puking on the side of the street.
“I am truly sorry my dear sister/brother/sibling/etc.! I’m just so excited that walking nutsack is finally dead! Hopefully he doesn’t come and try to speak to me though…” 
His thought trailed off as he stared off into space. Y/N rolled their eyes at their idotic but sweet brother and continued to pack a bag for the night.
“Can you please pack up the toiletries? This time leave the toilet and grab my face care pack.”
“No problem sis/bro/sib/whatever you wanna put here! Leave it to me!”
“Sweet jesus…
TiMe SkIp
“Here we have arrived where all our trauma steamed from!” Klaus exclaimed with Klaus™  hand gestures. Y/N rolled their eyes and made their way up to the door only for it to open before their knuckles even met the wood. 
“Ah Master Y/N and Master Klaus, how wonderful to see you again. Please come in.”
“Hey Pogo, please just call me Y/N”
“Of course.”
“How have you been?”
“I’ve been better, your father’s passing has thrown everyone off here.”
“I’m sure, has mom taken it well?”
“Not exactly, though that is to be suspected as the passing of her husband.”
“Of course, well I am going to drop off my things and get settled.”
“Of course, your room hasn’t been touched so everything is the same.”
 ANOTHER TIME SKIP TO AFTER FIVE APPEARS
ALSO THE WHOLE SCENE WHERE HE MAKES A SANDWICH IS NOT PRESENT HERE! I AM REWRITING IN MY WAY TO FIT THE REQUEST!
  After the whole ‘brother that has been missing for about 17 years showed up out of a blue portal in the sky and is still a kid’ thing happened they all sat in the living room to rethink the situation. While yes they were still going to have a funeral for their ‘dad’, they were going to push it back a little. 
“So where did you go? I mean we were worried about you and I’m sure you did your best to get home,” Allison asked,” Why didn’t that whole thing happen sooner?”
“You really think I didn’t want to come back to you guys the minute I left?” Five questioned,” You really think I didn’t miss you guys and wanted to be alone for 50+ years?”
Awkward silence came over the room and they all looked around not wanting to answer the question afraid of angering the young(or older) man any more.
“Okay calm down. We all are very happy you are back and we just had a question. Now I say we all make a few drinks and catch up. I’m sure everybody has a few stories they would like to tell the others,” Y/N stated as they made their way to the bar to make everybody a drink.
That’s exactly what they did too. They had a drink or two then had ‘dad’s’ funeral then came back inside and had a few more drinks and told each other their lives since they left. Allsion and Luther sat together while Klaus sprawled across the love seat with Y/N. Five and Vanya shared a portion of a couch while Diego sat in an armchair. They may be dysfunctional but they loved each other less.
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vaguely-concerned · 4 years
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Some Alec Ryder Meta
So since I couldn’t find the screenshots of Alec Ryder’s dying ‘thoughts’, I went and got them myself!* And I am uh way closer to crying than I thought I would be, Alec sort of surprised me here. Let’s go! 
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I was NOT prepared for his literal first thought to be of his children. And notice -- this is not his children being impressive or special or idk ordered/obedient. It’s them being happy and safe and playing and chaotic. I uh did not expect this, frankly.
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I’m guessing this is where they used to live when the kids were small! (Would this be before or during their time on the Citadel? The timeline there is so hazy to me haha, I can never quite remember how that works)
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Baby Scott on the swing ;______; I wonder if Alec is ‘there’ off screen in this scene, pushing him, since we start off with a shot looking over Scott’s shoulder like that 
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Can I just say how quietly charmed I am by the fact that in Alec’s memories Ellen isn’t captured when she was ~*young and beautiful*~ or whatever nonsense -- she’s a mature woman, the same age as himself. It feels like there is something sweet and telling in that, like they were partners/equals in his mind. (This also makes me very uncomfortable to think he didn’t ask her/didn’t get her consent at the last moment on her death bed to put her in stasis, after the twins left the room at least; he seems to have respected her so much, if he went against her wishes that’s... such a breach of everything she seems to have meant to him and really should have been addressed more because it would essentially be his big sin as a character. So I choose to believe for now that when the kids left he did one last ‘give it this one last shot and I promise that if I find nothing within a certain time I’ll let you go and grieve like a normal fucking person’ sales pitch, possibly with prepared Science to back him up because they were both kind of weird like that and I think that if anything could have worked that would. ‘But think of the scientific implications tho babe wouldn’t you want to be able to find out how worked?’ ‘...You’ve got me there’)
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More confirmation that Ellen had probably come to terms with her death and Alec Really Hadn’t lol. (Ellen might have just been grateful she lost neither of her children to the eezo exposure, actually -- she would have understood intimately how phenomenally lucky they were that both the twins survived and were healthy to boot) If I were to hazard a guess I’d say that Alec probably was in pretty bad need of space therapy even before his wife got ill, she was just his emotional support and he was intelligent and driven enough to hide most of it until that stability came under threat
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:( this is upsetting. It doesn’t come across as well without the movement but he’s bowing his head and putting his face in his hands. Either Ellen when she’s really sick or when she uh ‘died’ 
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I’m fairly sure that’s Ellen’s eyes -- and crucially they’re opening again. 
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Mom and the twins :’) I think it’s pretty clear Alec did that thing some people (especially men) do where they sort of organize all their feelings through their partner -- “Your mother would have been proud of you, of both of you” JESUS CHRIST ALEC JUST TELL YOUR CHILDREN YOU’RE PROUD OF THEM LIKE YOU ACTUALLY MEANT TO SAY, THEY ALREADY KNOW THEIR MOM LOVED THEM FOR GOD’S SAKE YOU ARE THE UNCERTAIN ELEMENT HERE
ETA: actually this might also have something to do with how convinced he seems to be that the kids don’t need him -- that his love and attention and regard doesn’t matter or count, or would even be seen as an imposition (he consistently refers to himself pretty self-deprecatingly in connection to them, their ‘old man’ coming in and messing up their lives, like he considers his absence to probably be the best he can do for them? He certainly devalues his own impact massively, positive or negative). Meanwhile Ellen’s place in all their lives is a clear and uncontested positive so maybe that’s why he goes for her pride and her love like that. Again: who the fuck raised this weird dysfunctional man to be like this and how did he get away with it for so long haha
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Alec and adult/at least teenaged twins! a) I suspect going to another galaxy with them to explore might honestly have been his idea of how bonding works, which... well and b) Sara is right behind him, leaning in like she’s listening and interested in what he’s saying and maybe even speaking too, and Scott looks to me like he’s sort of stranded on the side, looking in but not quite able to connect the same way. (This might be coloured by what I know about their respective relationships from the rest of the game, granted)
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The same memory as before BUT interestingly --
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the camera is turning around, like Alec is trying to get a look at his children’s faces and can’t :) this is fine and not at all illustrative of his entire deal *everything in my heart is on fire*
sOME observations: 
- These flashes give you more emotional insight in him than all the unlockable memories put together, and you’ll literally never see most of them unless you’re a freak like me, painstakingly frame by framing your way through it. That... seems like a waste?? 
- Despite his numerous flaws and shortcomings as a parent and as a person, literally every single thought he has at the end is about his family -- and not only his wife, all of them. There’s no place for his work here at all. That doesn’t absolve him of anything, of course, but it makes me sad that he never found a better way to show it, or to emotionally connect with his children, which he seems to have a real wish to. (”Maybe six hundred years can change a man”) Bioware... Bioware sequel pls don’t leave it like this ;_________;
- He himself does not figure prominently in his memories, and when he does he is faceless and vague -- except for when he is completely alone with his grief and Ellen is gone. I think there is something to be said about the fact that he makes all these huge inspiring speeches about the unknown and exploration... and yet his actual motivation is so firmly rooted in this immense fear of the unknown and of himself, of not knowing who to be without his wife, of not knowing how to go on living, of being alone. I wonder to what degree he knows this himself. (From what I’ve read so far of Mass Effect Initiation he certainly isn’t as idealistic about the whole thing as even the game portrays him, where he’s show to be pretty clear-eyed about the Initiative already -- or maybe he sort of is an idealist, under the fear and the jaded exhaustion. Either he genuinely believes Andromeda will hold answers and that science can achieve the impossible or he’s just too scared to consider any other outcome. Oh Boy tm)
- Ellen’s illness is such a cataclysmic event for him that I really have to assume he was never that stable to begin with. And as we’ve seen: When a Ryder goes off the rails they do so in STYLE and drag thousands of people with them to an uncertain fate haha
- My personal headcanon is that Alec used to be a better dad before Ellen got ill and when the kids were still very young; when all they really needed was to be held and loved and made to feel safe, and then became more and more distant as his work with SAM progressed and the children’s emotional needs grew more complex and demanding. Sara remembers this part of their father better (or clings to it more desperately, depending on your point of view) and is also more like him in general, being driven, competitive and intensely intellectually engaged (no matter how you play her in-game, Sara is always presented as vastly more A Nerd than Scott is -- its own can of worms of course but it’s there in the text). Meanwhile Scott has reached a resigned sort of ‘It’s perfectly plausible my dad would not be able to pick me out from a crowd’ place about it and given up on expecting anything more a long time ago in self defense. I think they’ve both hit on different parts of the truth there lol
(Also Sara and Alec seem to have bonded over making fun of Scott a little bit and considering him the underachiever of the two and like Not Cool guys!!! :( ) 
- Anyway Alec Ryder is a very interesting and immensely flawed character and killing him off and never meaningfully engaging with him again seems like throwing away a golden opportunity. Sequel where ‘Ghost Riders’ takes on a new meaning when??? I just want the twins to be able to either yell at him or connect to him better, as appropriate to the feelings of the individual player (I totally get why people would want to give their Ryders a chance to straight up hate him)
I think where it really hurts for me is that he clearly has these feelings, the capacity for it. There’s a wealth of affection and... tenderness? reverence, nearly? in these memories. None of his outward hardass needs-everything-to-be-under-control persona. And yet he could find no way to express this or even really meaningfully stay with his own feelings and his children suffered for it. It’s just all so fucking sad
*Courtesy of DanaDuchy’s youtube channel, which is truly one of the marvels of the internet; please check it out if you have any interest at all in Bioware games or indeed RPGs/games in general, there’s SO much content and it’s all neatly organized! If like me you want to listen to all the banter of every game... this channel’s got you covered
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h0unds-of-h3ll · 4 years
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To be so alone
Part thruple of: https://dannyisindanger.tumblr.com/post/616496275843612672/the-deal
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A day is all it took. A measly twenty-four hours is all it took for him to inspect her. The first night was nonetheless the most frightful one she's ever experienced. The night of her not so welcomed welcoming was, to say the least, overwhelming. What if they didn't like her? What if they fed her to the beasts on avenue street? and then she remembered how she got here, how they got her in the small cramped motel room. She is one of the many beasts on the streets of the avenue. The one that connected the non-gravitational park and the most robbed gas station on the planet. She wondered every now again on an occasion of how well the cashier is doing, she hoped he was doing well. Since obviously, she wasn't on the best of terms. The way he sat there and took the beating and constant frustration of every customer and then the beating of his boss, she gave him credit for keeping up with it. 
The teen reminding her of a cartoon character getting smashed over the head repeatedly and still popping up and fighting the mouse. The motel's box television scraping by with any channels at all or less. Budget cuts the man said. She didn't understand what the point is to the cartoon or why the boy at the top of the bed was laughing at the comically large balloon head of the blue cat. It would be said wrongfully to say that she wasn't interested in the odd entertainment although not being able to understand the format. Her feet barely grazed against the moss of green the carpet is, black and brown stains littering itself across from years of being not cared for. 
She watched her feet going under the too long of blanket and duvet she waited for the monster under the bed to take her under. She wasn't scared of what the monster would do, but more curious as to why. Vengeance, revenge, perhaps solitude? the thing about the Winchesters they kill first ask questions later. She wondered what the shaggy-haired boy would do who now sat across from her, eyes glued to the watt burning screen. She took him in, skinny as her but a bit more to the bones than her. Brown hair that matched the stains, bright eyes like the sky's blue. Sunken, narrow and distinctive features way too mature to have for a boy his age making him look older than he is. 
She smiled he didn't even need the baggy clothing. Her mind went to who she knew to now as the eldest of the two brothers, he was older than her, a few years. It showed whenever he stood by her a few inches taller, a few inches around his body. Speaking of the devil. She heard the same voice she heard at the gas station a few days ago. Boom outside the few layers of plaster that was separating them. "You can't let a girl in, what if she has diseases? what if she has cooties or something?!" The small voice that had a sharp tone to it shrieked out in compliance. "She was eating our food, Dad! you think she's worthy enough to join us, especially in what we do?!" he tried he did, to get his point to come across to the older man but all it did was silence. A dull buzz in the back of his head like an annoying fly on a hot Alabama day, it being begged to be zapped but escaping its fate somehow, someway. Although what happens when it gets close to the delicious sweet. The sweet taste of victory that comes along with? no, it gets zapped. Like how the man's hand comes down with: "Don't talk back to me boy!" how the bug-eyed cartoon bug gets smashed then pops up once again.
That night the man left and claimed to be gone to get some food with a promise to the youngest with 'It's only going to be a few more days'. He vanished as the kick of the motel door roared throughout the entire premise. No one dared to question the noise, no one ever filed a noise complaint. Not in the present, nor the future, for the one who shall never tell of it. It had been hours since the man's presence had been relinquished, the occupants became stardom with boredom as the nights hours crept on. 
The shaggy boy sat on the floor, eyes burning from how close his nose was touching the screen of the vivid colors. It was eerie how the kid never moved, never laughed, only watched. Only being observant of the actions of the creatures. Being a witness. The eldest sat by the ledge of the window sill, one of his sculpted hands resting against his cheek. Feeling the cuts of where his father's ring cut in his tanned skin. His face not as sculpted as the young grasshopper but still sculpted his bright green eyes dimmed to a darker green. His plumped pink lips turned up in a scowl his eyebrows into a deep furrow, making a few creases between them. 
She was in a corner by the captivating of entertainment. Hers was a smidge to the left, a tall boy whose hair was the spikiest shes ever seen it been so far. He supported a tight black tank, some old washed-out blue jeans, and a pair of what looked like to be garage sale nikes but the brand being washed out from the years that came with them. His hands now gripped the ledge of the sill his knuckles turning white, his face turning a dull red as anger boiled into him. A few more bullets of seconds, then the crack of the hand against the window and his rasp voice deepening octaves because of his mood. "Sammy. I'm going out to uh er, to get a few things." He stormed through the small room, kicking a duffel bag that flew a Pokemon card out and out the door he went, his shadow leaving the windows eye. Then there were two.
"Do you like Marvel or DC?" the boy said who sat on the bed with a Batman and a Wolverine comic in each hand. The cartoon's seeming to end at midnight and the adult shows came on, the boys' eyes glistening with curiosity. As his pajama pant legged legs cross and uncross in anticipation. She pointed at the Wolverine one liking his claws reminding her of a cat, she made friends with one, once in an alleyway. He smiled as he clapped his hands in excitement "That's so cool! I haven't met anyone that likes Wolverine, everyone likes Batman. Including my brother." 
His face turned down slightly as he thought of him. She guessed that his brother's relationship was as bad as his father's he glanced back at her face realizing that she thought what she did. "Oh, no! it's not that it's bad or anything... It just...that he gets angry sometimes." He paused trying not to say anything he didn't mean to by accident. He sat there quietly thinking over if he made any mistakes his eyes matching the carpet of green. He jumped down from the bed, hunched over, and shuffled through his duffel bag. The endless bag, she thought to herself spending what felt like hours searching for it. His face, when he turned to her, looked like he had sucked on a sour lemon she felt saddened for his loss of not seeking what he wanted to be found.
It was well past midnight when she found herself alone with the screen it had displayed some chicken who was a robot who was getting robbed. The man she hadn't seen since he left was still well gone, as well as the eldest. The boy's bed who she was sat upon was past sleep sunken into a deep unconsciousness, dreaming of Godzilla and King Kong. She hated how she was kept in the small room. With a boring television with lame Pokemon cards and a boring life, that seemed to be only interesting by the dysfunctional family that kept her occupied. The noise turned fuzzy and the T.V. went static. 
Black and white ants crawled inside her mind went blank and her eyes cast over as her mind went into default. She tried to think but it only made her head hurt and her face burn. Her body feeling even more weightless then before, her hair lifting off her form. This was all too familiar and she hated the taste of it. Her feet swept up from the hiding place they were hiding and lifted to the popcorn the ceiling held. Her arms flying down as her body lifted. Her dress traded for one of the man's shirts that held a restaurant logo on it, the gray upon it turning into a dark black since the light of the window could no longer reach her. She screamed when her body splayed across the roof of the room, her scream a bloody one her teeth coming into view and her lips stretching into the widest 'o.' The boy's breathing stopped. The ants stopped. The shitty fan that circulated the hot air stopped. One, two, thr-.
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gisapot · 4 years
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In defense of Dionysus (written 12-03-2017, posted 12-03-2019.)
It is officially the anniversary of the last creative nonfiction piece I wrote. 
I did not realize it has been two years since I wrote this piece, the piece that I consider my magnum opus; two years since my grandfather had passed.
Posting this today of all days was not intentional. I did not intend to post this here because I had bigger plans for this piece; a greater exposure than this tiny blog only my friends and students know and avidly read (not that I am ungrateful for your support). I wanted to see this in print.
I wanted to submit this to Katitikan for its ‘places and spaces’ issue, but to submit this means to remove a thousand words from this five-thousand-word monster, and removing a thousand words is an insult to the integrity of the story I want to tell. To remove a thousand words is to break the legacy of my grandfather.
Another reason why I wanted to post this is to address a comment my mother had received on a photo she posted on her Facebook of her and my grandfather. I do not know if that was their last photo together. She shared the post to share to her world that it is the second anniversary of her father’s death, and someone said, “maayo gyod an badlungon kay ma mis gyod sa tanan!” 
Instead of posting a position paper in defense of my grandfather and his merits, looking only one-sided and biased towards the man who raised me, I want to show you this piece, in its entirety, in my grandfather’s entirety. 
Who really was Antonio Gulane? 
Dear Grandpa: A Story of The Kulafu Warrior.
Dear Grandpa, today is the third of December, twenty-seventeen. I am in the new house, the one you begged my mother to buy for you before you passed: the one-story house made of cement and stone. It has barely been a month since we got the house when you decided to christen it with your quiet passing, bringing in faces old that I’ve never seen in years, and new ones my mother insists I’ve met longer than my brain can recall.
Dear Grandpa, this asphalt house is the first permanent one we have had in a long time. How many houses have we lived in? I don’t know the number, but I know each and every one of them, complete with tiny slivers of memories that are distinctly of you, Grandma, your white chino shirts with her tie dye skirts and half-slips. I remember your loud insistent shouts and your ribs protruding through your thin brown skin as you sit at midnight half-naked, inhaling the smell of Mighty Red, Marlboro, or some lumboy leaves you roll on your own. The smell of it mixed with Kulafu has permeated every household we occupy, radiating out of your rotting yellow teeth as soon as the clock strikes one in the afternoon. Textbooks always told me these were signs of a broken home life, a dysfunctional family. To me, it became a sign that told me that I was home, no matter where I was.
I.                   Basement
I remember very little about the basement, but I do have pictures of it developed like pictures used to in those times Kodak and Konika were the epitome of photography technology, Richard Gomez’ face on the packs of the finished images. There were blue green walls, and it was constantly dark down there because there no natural light came in. The wooden jalousies were sealed shut and dusty, not really helping our cause. Our TV was a small black box always tuned in to ABS-CBN, and one picture showed it frozen on an old Colgate commercial along with my memory of my first Christmas. You were there with Grandma, candid shots of you making me laugh so that I would smile for the camera. I was a chubby child with skin as pink as the girls endorsing Pond’s for a healthy pink glow, a vast contrast to your dark lumad skin, even more elaborated by the harsh automatic flash of the film camera. Grandma always shied away from the light of it with a bashful grin that took on not only her face but in the lift of her shoulders, carrying me up to cover her face. You, however, were not afraid to show your grimace to a device that immortalized your state: displeased that your photo was taken, but not mad enough to be violent.
           I am thankful these photos exist to give me a sight of my childhood that I remembered better through scents. I remember nothing, no experiences and no objects, but I do remember the smell of a very big pink bottle of Johnson’s baby powder, your alcohol, Tatay’s aircon-scented laundry, pungent socks, and your cigarettes.
II.                Village
There is always this notion that when the word ‘village’ is present in the address you write on forms, you were someone with money and stability enough to live in a place that had security guards stationed at every entrance. We were renting this house, and I do not remember what it looks like nor do I have the pictures to actually believe that we lived here. There must be a gap in my memory, but I forgave myself long ago for not remembering anything. But I do hear stories from you and Grandma about my childhood: I liked Uncle Dennis’ Lucky Me mami noodles – the one in the blue packet (is it still in production anymore?) – because it smelled like gas. I didn’t eat it, I just smelled the smoke coming out of it. Every afternoon at five, Uncle Dennis and Grandma would take me for a walk to ‘get some Fita’, which was a codeword for fetching Nanay from the corner. You recalled that I never went with them if there was no Fita involved, so my mother resolved to buy Fita before she got to the corner leading to our house so I would greet her by sunset.
It was a quaint village but we had to move away for reasons I still cannot understand to this day, but know well enough that what happened made my mother lose the face to show to her in-laws. Just because she was a tiger does not mean she held the power; her in-laws were kings of the jungle. Grandma maintains we were nothing at the time. We had no one to our defence. We were ants next to them in the grand scheme of things, we could not talk back when the perpetrators had money and we did not, ruling the gated compound as they did. I never believed you to be one to run away from a fight. It did not seem like you or Nanay to be quiet or behaved when mouths start running the way they did towards us, but you just let it happen like it did. We moved houses before I could remember anything constructive of it, or take any pictures to remember it by.
III.             Pardo
There is something in Pardo that always drew me in. It seemed like a place that was alive, crowds of people coming in with the setting and rising of the sun every day, judging by the plethora of jeepneys that headed that way. I know that because of my constant commute to school, a small Montessori school, girls in bright red uniforms and at least one boy per batch in grey t-shirts. Other than that, I remember nothing that had to do with what was outside the house except the potted plants lined up by the patio that you sat next to, where you were supposed to be smoking your afternoon away. But you were not there, not at the house, not in any of the pictures. I never saw you in that year. I think you hated the place, or the stampede that came with it, or something else. All I know is that you were never there. Your sister stayed with us instead, a skinny woman with short hair who took orders for empanada from Nanay’s friends. I don’t remember you, but that does not mean I have no recollection of whether or not you were there. It means that I know for sure that you were not there, so I had nothing substantial to remember you of, unless it was Christmas.
I remember you distinctly during our only Christmas in that house, hiding in the darkness of the alley behind the back door where a big blue tank stood. You crouched there, smoking while Nanay and Tatay took pictures of me posing in front of the Noche Buena. I have a picture of that moment, smiling cutely while Grandma stood with her back turned away from the camera facing the door that led to the blackness. I remember she was scolding you in harsh whispers to turn the flame of your cigarette off and come inside to join the festivities, to not be a Grinch on Christmas. Once the photo was taken I got down from the chair I used as a stool, towering adults walking past me – both uncles, Nanay’s younger brothers – who tried talking you out of sitting outside. If you did not feel like socializing, there was always a TV. Your indifference towards Christmas was evident.
           The concept of time is longer the younger you are. I look up at the clock as they plead you to come inside and eat some bread or ham, or an apple, whatever; it was eleven in the evening. You finally got up at three minutes later, but it felt like three hours. I wonder how that is so. When you walked past me, I wanted to ask – something, nothing, I don’t remember what I wanted to ask from you. But you just moved me aside and did not give me attention, and you sat on the sofa and I just stared, and I brushed it off. You were offered alcohol, and you asked for a bottle of Kulafu. I did not move. The moment I write this is when I remember that was the first out of two times where you did not make time for me. You always did.
 IV.             Sugar Apple
Since I was a child I always amused myself with the thought that Tisa backwards was ‘atis’. Of course, now that I am older I have come to realize that this is not true. But it also entertained me that this presupposition of mine was proved true with the sugar apples growing by the barbed wire fence right outside our house that closed the compound in. We were renting a bigger house this time, in a compound of three houses owned by a nice drummer amputee named Tony. I remember the whole town calling him Tony Kimpay like it was his full name. The house had light blue walls and a smooth ground floor that required a whole box and three-quarters of red Starwax and two coconut husks to shine. There was a second floor (a second floor! Only rich people had second floors, thought three-year-old me) where the floors were made of wood, and it was in this house where I learned that you never slept at night.
You sat outside from ten at night until six in the morning with a box of cigarettes, a mug of Nescafe coffee and three bottles of Kulafu, guarding the house in lieu of a dog or a security guard. You would entertain yourself with the ducks Tony owned, chasing them away once they started quacking at four in the morning along with the crowing of the chickens. It was from you where I learned to not fear ducks. And when Nanay’s cousin Dinah came to live with us while she went to college and told me to stay away from ducks because they bite, I did not believe her. They always run away from me because you taught me that I was bigger and more terrifying than any bird.
Sometimes you plucked the sugar apples and cut them in half to share with the family, but I never ate them. Instead, I was interested in the eba that grew next to it, eating it raw and with no salt to neutralize the taste. I loved how sour it was. I have pictures of me giving eba to my cousins who visited the house. Behind the camera, you turn your nose up away from the eba, because you did not like that I like them and preferred that I ate sugar apples instead because at least that is a fruit that made sense.
My first brother was born by then, and I did not remember an instance where you touched him. By then, people from the neighbourhood or Nanay’s friends from work came by to visit and coo at him. I would get jealous and insecure, because there is a baby stealing my mother’s attention, like all three-year-olds would feel when they have a new sibling. Because of the afternoon crowd on the second floor of the house, you woke up from your afternoon nap and went outside for a smoke to calm down to avoid snapping at someone. I followed you outside because I hated how Nanay did not give me any attention, all given to that stupid baby. An adult grabbed me, I don’t remember who it was but I know I insisted on going with you. You took a seat on a plastic stool Grandma uses for the laundry, and told me to go back inside once you lit the cigarette stick. I obey. I walked towards the door when I accidentally kick over last night’s Kulafu bottles. I turned around to pick them up, but you told me to leave it and go inside in that annoyed tone you spoke in when everything is not in order. Despite that, you crouched down and picked the bottles up without further complaint. Irritation was a trademark on you, a trademark I have come to not just learn, but to inherit.
 V.                Parrots
From the house with the ducks and the star apples and eba, we moved to a white house with a gate. It was not that far from the previous house, it was on a hill right behind it. The house was white, the inside also white except for the master bedroom which was decorated with faded yellow wallpaper. A few months after we moved there, Tatay bought me a pair of birds – a boy and a girl – for no reason at all. He just thought it would be nice to have a pet. They were yellow-green birds and I thought they were parrots and insisted that they speak after me. Under the cage of the birds was a wooden stand for your own rooster. It was then I learned that you liked cock fights, you bet on it and joined it even with the constant reports on the radio that these betting games were illegal because it went against animal rights or some random reason I thought of as a child that would rationalize the world.
I still do not know if the birds Tatay got me were parrots or not, but it is an appropriate analogy for you and K: at the age of three with a head as big as a basketball, he admired you for everything you did to the point that he copied your every move, especially your skill in many types of martial arts. Now as I am older and I look back, I think of the credibility of your claim, if you were really an expert as you said you were. But at the impressionable ages of seven and three, we believed you to be the Filipino Bruce Lee as you introduced yourself to be. You taught K how to use nunchucks and a bit of arnis with a stick you conjured out of nowhere, and I wish I had pictures to prove that you really did teach him and he learned well from  you, but all I have are pictures of K alone carrying his nunchucks obsessively everywhere he went. He threw a fit every time he was told that he could not bring them to social events or inside malls because it was ‘unfair’ and he really wanted to show off what he knew.
He was so much like you. He copied almost everything you were. You two were so alike in the shortness of fuse and how you both wanted everything to go your way or you would have to resort to violence. K would wrestle anyone who said no.
Despite the contrast – K a pale milky white while you were a reddish brown like Kulafu – you taught him to be like you and he had grown so attached to his childhood hero that it no longer looked adorable to me as the older sister, but scary. This turned terrified the moment you took an afternoon nap and started kicking in the air like you were fighting someone, asking if your enemy in your dream was going to fight back. K thought you were so cool.
Nanay always tells me that she understands because she is always at work that K was imprinted by you and grandma instead of her and Tatay as the actual parents, but I could not understand what she meant. It just did not reflect the families on textbooks, where the children were close to their parents and their grandparents lived in a separate house. How close he became with you and Grandma was beyond me. He insisted to sleep on your bed, eat out of Grandma’s hands, and sang the lyrics you whispered in his ear before he ever learned how to read. There was no doubt in his mind that you were invincible, and you were the best example.
 VI.             Dog
We lived a year in that white house. Half of that year I dazedly spent in hospitals because of a severe case of dengue. That year was a bad year for us, it was some sort of bad omen. Nanay decided to move us to Mandaue, a whole city over, because it was safer there from mosquitoes and it was closer to her workplace. Other than that, Tatay was an architect for a new private elementary school that was just erected there, and he decided to send Yelcin and I there. It was in a big compound owned by a chubby old man with droopy skin that made him look like a wrinkly dog. He looked even worse with his constant frown. You did not like him. You liked his sons instead because they drank with you Kulafu with you at two in the afternoon to stay awake instead of being so uppity like their father.
We got a dog too, a female golden retriever we aptly named Goldie. You did not like her at first because she was a non-human creature that came into the house and chased after me because she liked me. You got very angry with her because she wormed her way to the bedroom I shared with Nanay and Tatay, but then insisted she sleep at the foot of my bed to watch over me, and suddenly I see you sneak out chicken leftovers from my breakfast to her dog bowl in the morning. That is when I knew you started to like her.
You sat outside with her in the afternoons. With that you brought some noise, you talked to her and told her to behave and you would give her a dog biscuit shaped like a bone whenever you got bored. You were not quiet anymore. You would bathe her religiously on Saturday mornings before I woke up, and fed her strange things for her meals like fish and some malunggay leaves. She ate them gratefully, like it was not dangerous for her poor dog stomach to eat such things.
You did everything for Goldie. You treated her like your own child, spoiled her with all the dog treats in the world and reprimanded my mother if she did not bring home any more treats for the dog when you ran out. You built her a cage made of metal grills and spare raw coco lumber that you demanded  Tatay to bring from his site visits in Catmon, the plastic flooring for the only thing authentically pet-shop about that cage. You made Dennis buy some metal roofing  from the construction supply shop around right outside the corner of the street, and you built her a home with your bare hands. When it was done, you put Goldie inside, locked it, and hid in your bedroom with Grandma without a word and took a happy nap.
 VII.          Protection
We had a house. It was in Opon, it was bound to PAG-IBIG housing loans, but we had a house. It was in a middle-class subdivision whose houses all looked the same, so our minimalist white and brown and green house with a terrace and an outdoor garden with Bermuda grass stood out. We had our own rooms, mine was pink and V’s was blue with a bunk bed since Nanay was pregnant with her third child and we were preparing for him. Nanay and Tatay’s room was a bright yellow with brown furniture. And yet you refused to see us sleep in our own rooms, us kids having to sleep in our parents’ room, on the floor with some mattresses, so that we do not get too hot in our own rooms. It was apparently better in the air-conditioned room, and it was so you could keep an eye on us all together.
We had a car too. It was a secondhand blue Nissan Terrano with a spare wheel on the back that we bought from your cousin who married into a rich family. We did not use the car much, but you took it out for spins around the subdivision so that it would not ‘gather dust’. I still do not know if that really is a valid concern for cars.
Your habits did not change: you still sat outside the house at midnight with your coffee and Kulafu and cigarettes, except now people stop in front of the house to take pictures, and you ‘shoo’ them away to keep them from plagiarizing my father’s work. (I will find in later years that they still succeeded in copying my father, what with subdivisions being erected that now use the same color scheme and the same layout and plan. It irritates the both of us. Whatever happened to intellectual property rights?)
           You hated the location, however. You hated that it was an entire city away from where we went to school and we did not get enough sleep. We passed out in the car the moment we get inside, to catch up on some sleep, wake up dazed and lost in school, then come home tired and lethargic to do any of our homework anymore because of how tired we were. We were practically in hell.
           Location was always the problem, wasn’t it? We just moved to the new home that was finally ours when it struck: Nanay was laid off of her job and had nowhere to go. With piling debts and deteriorating health and a baby who had more needs than her grown children, Nanay decided to work overseas.
           You were so violently against it. You were so mad. You did not want the family to be separated. Everyone should stay in one home, together, no matter the circumstance. It was all or nothing for you. But Nanay had already made up her mind, bought a ticket out, found a job that was waiting for her, all that was left was to leave for it. You did not look her in the eye that day she left, staying outside right in front of the car, like you were a boulder that could stop it from moving.
VIII.        Following
I remember very distinctly the moment K cried at the airport as we left Singapore after our first Christmas there. He was crying terribly hard, hating the fact that the family he grew up in, his own universe of discourse, was pulled apart into two different fabrics of time and space. It was difficult to be together now. He rolled on the floor of the then-existing budget terminal of Changi Airport, causing a scene, asking why we could not stay with her and be a happy family like those families in textbooks. He wanted to be with Nanay, with Tatay, but also with you and with Grandma and Uncle Dennis and Uncle Julius and their wives Elsa and Janice respectively, both parents and parental figures. K used to be the type that got so attached.  I cannot say the same for now, however.
When Nanay said she was working on our immigration to follow her to Singapore, K was excited. You, however, did not say anything. I think you have learned from when Nanay left the country, but you made us promise to call you by Skype every day while we waited to start schooling there. You could not bear to part from us, you and Grandma, but when was the best time to leave the nest, to be honest? And we belonged with our actual parents.
And every day like clockwork since we left, we called you through video call, your brown skin a bright white like the shirts on Tide commercials, asking how we are and what we are doing, same as yesterday. The call sits for two hours as we watch you nap on the wooden floor of the rest house, and when the computer overheats, you tell Dennis to shut it off and you slither away on the floor to your room, not showing that you are crying because of how you miss us. But it is okay, I know you console yourself, because Janice is pregnant, and you are sure this kid is not a kid you will let go.
When we left the country, you had no reason to stay in Cebu anymore, so you loudly declared to the entire family that you were all going back to Medellin where they grew up and where you raised them. There was a rest house there that Tatay constructed for us; somewhere we can sleep in whenever we visited Medellin for the weekend. It was a hut, brown with nipa leaves weaved together for the roof. Everything was made of wood except for the foundations and the bathroom, the cement wall painted green on the outside. Inside was tiled and decorated with seashells Tatay paid your nephew to collect from the beach behind the house. You spent your days there lying on the ground like a dog, never breaking your afternoon-nap-and-Kulafu-at-Midnight ritual like always. Sometimes you got bored and killed flies, made your own barbecue, and even built an extended hut for Grandma that you used as a convenience store. You would participate in secret games of masiao that another one of your nephews is a runner for, you and Grandma arguing about the how she calculated her own numbers and why yours is different, until the tumor in your stomach you kept joking about started hurting too much for you to laugh about it anymore.
 Dear Grandpa, throughout these homes we have come into, you repeatedly made me promise throughout my childhood to build you a concrete house that you can call your own. You called our constant moving a hassle and the hut that my father made for you not sturdy to withstand storms. You told me you were tired of the city, and asked me to build you a house in your hometown of Medellin, as big as I want, as long as it was strong and brave and could shelter you from the heavy storms.
Dear Grandpa, we have a home now. It is a bright yellow house in a subdivision a little ways away from the park that displayed an old train from Central that used to carry the sugar cane. The time is one-forty in the afternoon; I am sitting in front of your white coffin with a towel in my hair, and if I move to tilt my head rightwards I can see the bottle of Kulafu I bought for you as an offering. I am alone, save for the people passing by to get food, more ice cream, beer, or arguing about the wi-fi connection. Your Photoshopped portrait sits on top of your viewing glass, staring at the flurry of movement with your intense judging glare and thick eyebrows. You look angry in the photo, but Uncle Dennis says you were about to laugh as the photo was taken, and if I stared hard enough, I can almost see the moment that you do.
Dear Grandpa, you were powerful and strong-willed and loud for all the right reasons. You were never weak, and you never allowed people to spread nonsense about our family. I pretend not to know that the reason for your loss is not deterioration, but a dangerous formation. I pretend not to know that your every day habits are the cause of your passing. I pretend that you’ve never participated in vices in your life; it is in the Filipino culture, Nanay says, that once someone passes, he is an angel.
Dear Grandpa, I miss you very dearly. As I write this I keep erasing words and adding some more, getting distracted by the noise from the children and doors opening and San Miguel bottles tinkling against each other. This is the sound of our family, even as the shape of our living arrangement changes like the sky when it nears a storm. Dear Grandpa, in the years I have grown under your care we did not have a house whose deed was truly ours, but you have shown me the meaning of home and helped me remember it as my own now, as part of who we are: we are fighters, the heat of your Kulafu blood flowing through our veins – we are warriors.
Dear Grandpa, we might be so far away from each other, even further now that you have passed, but as I grow older and help Nanay and Tatay finish this house in your name, I will remember the way we have come, and how much further I have to go. In front of your coffin, I bow my head to mourn, but my blood boils hot under my skin – I will stand like you on this ground and do what I can, defending your name.
And if I can help it, Dear Grandpa, we will not move again any time soon.
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OK, now that I’m normal again and my feelings are not all over the place I’m ready to talk rationally about the episode.
I’m gonna start saying that I loved it.
Annie:
I always thought that Annie ended up like the most dysfunctional adult bc Beth was there to clean up her messes.  Beth, as the older sister, took Annie under her protection and I think she was way more like a mom to her rather than a sister. We all can see how every time Annie has a problem she can’t deal with, she goes to Beth. She relies on her.Beth became Annie’s safe place whenever she lost control over things in her life. I understand Beth in these situations but I also think she could have handled her sister better, let her deal with her problems rather than running to her when she called it. I always wondered if this co-dependency she has on her big sis is also one of the reasons Dean doesn’t like Annie much. I can clearly see him arguing with Beth about her always going to her sis while she has a family to take care of.
I loved that Ruby told her what Beth really was for her. How she sacrificed a lot just to be there for her little sis. I think Annie knows it too, but sometimes she is so caught up in her own problems that she takes for granted what Beth does for her. And I’m not saying that to make Annie the bad guy here. She is just human and like I said, she was not the only one responsible for the person she became.
What I loved is that later, she feels it, deep down, Ruby’s words. They were inside her head the whole time she went back home, I bet and that is why we also see her so fragile while talking to Sadie. She is finally facing her own demons bit by bit, she is afraid that she is not being a good mom, a good influence on Sadie... She is afraid because she knows her own faults as an adult and she probably feels ashamed that she can’t even afford the medicine her son needs. I understand and respect her for not wanting to ask for anybody’s money bc she wants to succeed in being a good parent to her kid once in her life.
Also. Finally, the moment when she opens her eyes about what Noah did. People call Annie stupid and naive. I think she is mostly naive. She trusts people too easy sometimes. But she is smart ( I think we can agree that she slips a lot but again, she is just human) and she quickly connected the dots in her head when Ruby asked who could have known about Boland Motors. I don’t know what she is gonna do, but I think she is gonna confront him rather than play some kind of cat/mouse game with Noah.
One thing about Noah tho:
I don’t think he is working for Rio. I’ve seen some theories about it but his reactions yesterday tells me that he was feeling guilty and worried. He likes Annie, and frankly, with her goofy, carefree nature it’s so easy to like her. If he was working secretly for Rio or was his inside man in the FBI, I don’t think there was a reason for him to feel any of those feelings. He would know they wouldn’t end up finding anything and that she and her sis would be safe. And about using her in any way or lying to her about it?  I think if he is catching feelings for her as I think he is, he wouldn’t need to be so worried bc, after all, they are all working for the same guy, right? Noah would feel a bit like a d-bag but I’m pretty sure he’d feel like they could talk it out in a way.
From the synopsis for episode 12, I do think that in the end they both are gonna talk about what Noah did.
Ruby:
OMG RUBY!!! She was perfect, as always. From supporting Stan, to not let her man wallow in self-pity  and also standing up for Beth, this woman again shows us how loyal she is and how far she is willing to go to help those she loves, while also thinking about how this will affect her family in the long run, but she knows there is no way out right now. She needs to keep going bc there is no other option. Stan has no job, they have bills to pay, kids to feed and with her job, Ruby can’t deal with everything financially on her own.
I just love how strong she is despite everything. I really can’t say more about Ruby in this episode bc I see Ruby as the moral compass in the show. And I can’t wait to see how She is gonna deal with the obstacles on her way bc we know they are huge and they will make her go against some of her own values here to help her hubby and her family. I’m dying to see how she handles it.
We know she is afraid and that is why she did what she did on that bus. Throwing the drugs away showed me how desperate she suddenly became and I think that it was because she thought about how Sara treated Stan after he was arrested. She panicked bc she didn’t wanna her daughter to go through that again, watching another parent being arrested in front of her friends. Imagine the humiliation for Sara? Ruby loves her kid and she knows she suffered after seeing what happened to her father. She didn’t wanna ruin her relationship with Sara too. I understand, u, boo. I got u!
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I will be here rooting and suffering with her and Stan. 
Beth:
ohh Beth... How beautifully complex u are.U guys know I’m biased when it comes to this woman but she had one of my favorite scenes in the episode.That scene of her in the store... GOD! What a scene. The suspense, the thrill she got for doing something wrong and the possibility of getting caught, the song while everything was happening.. slowing down and down... PERFECT. She was trying so hard being good but this dark thing inside her was awakened and demanded to be fed.
She had a taste of it, of freedom from the dormant life she lead. This is a woman who lived, breathed, for everyone else but not for herself. Beth Boland never got a chance to know who she really is, what she likes to do, what she could be. She was molded into that momma persona and I think it’s natural that she struggles between being just that and the scary possibility of finding out what, who else she can be. 
If u had to start all over again, find out who else u wanted to be, wouldn’t u be afraid too? Yeah, for some ppl it can be exciting as well, but most people will feel fear also.
I think that by the last scene of her, she is feeling just like that: afraid but excited as hell.
When she laughed and said it was fun almost being caught by the feds? CHILLS literally chills !! Beth is flirting with this wild side of her that get’s excited with power and challenges.
This doesn’t make her a villain, in my opinion, just someone more complex and that is embracing this side we all have that makes us wonder: “what would be like to not care at all? For rules, for being nice and polite all the time, sometimes to ppl we hate or don’t care at all? What if I just cheat and lie to get what I want as other people do? They don’t seem to care and they are in a better place in life than me.”
I love when writers let us see how a character struggles between the lines of what we accept as morally right and what we think it’s a no-go for “good people” like us, when we know nobody is perfect or a saint.
Watching her sitting inside that car in the dark and then leaving... Her chair empty...
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We saw earlier in the episode when Dean (stupid Dean) asks her if she misses it and she says “would it matter?”.  He says something else about her cookies and she just smiles but then we see the smile leaving her face and I was like:
OMG GIRL. I know.. I know it hurts and it sucks.
Her breaking down? One long time thing coming. She needed that. It also shows us that she might have another breakdown soon but this time with Dean. Beth is so fed up with just being the good momma, the good person... Always doing the right thing. No more. And if Dean keeps pushing her?
 Ohh I don’t wanna be him.
Beth x Rio.
ok Now, on these two. I let my shipper feels get the best of me. 
SUE ME.
I have this hopeless romantic side of me that can’t help but go all in in the feels.LOL
That being said:
DO I think that what Rio said in that promo was like a marriage proposal? OF COURSE NOT. And I am sure a lot of ppl know that. It’s called shipper behavior. We all allow ourselves to be a bit silly about it.
AGAIN. SUE ME. xD
We don’t know how that scene is gonna happen and what will be really said, in addition to what we heard them say but like u, dear follower or person who sees my posts in the tag know, I do believe Rio have personal reasons and way more practical ones to want Beth working for him again.
Some say it is a punishment for the headache she probably caused him when she said she was out. However, I’d argue that it is not that good of punishment because she likes it. She likes to work with him. She likes doing it. But yeah, for a lifetime? Not what I think she has in mind or will want it in the long run in that sense, I agree that it is one but not an effective one or the best way to punish her, RIGHT NOW.
And there is a big IF in what I said bc what if she ends up wanting to do that in the long run? We don’t know what direction Beth’s character will follow in the future.
Now back to the point, yeah it looks like a punishment and I’m sure she will freak out about Boomer’s body and we still don’t know what else Rio is gonna do and their relationship right now?
A mess. An UNHEALTHY, hot mess. Because again he has all the power.
Again Rio is gonna feed on her indecision and fears and he will get what he wants from her in the end bc this man is not playing around.
That is why I don’t think he has softened. Rio is like a snake. He will surprise u and attack when u less expect him to.
He surprised her in the park. He followed her or we can say he knows her well enough now to know exactly where she is. And again Rio showed her he is one step ahead of her ( and of everyone else it seems lol).
I see a man who is a planner, a charmer, a cold killer when he needs to be, a father, a rational, logical, smart man, controlling and who loves power and who also can be an attentive, soft lover if he also wants. He is a man who knows how to read people. But the fact that he reads Beth so well? I don’t think that is because she is weak, but rather that she is too much like him in some aspects.
He respects her. No one can say the contrary.
But he won’t let her ruin things for him, so here he is making sure she doesn’t, she goes to that park and tells her the FBI is going to BM bc if she gets caught? The feds will have info on the little operation they had there!
But they were also partners so, if he lets her go down for this, he only has things to lose. Her included. Because, yeah I believe he sees her as a valuable asset. 
Beth, with her efficiency, intelligence, and courage, secured herself a place in his organization, and people like her, even if a bit dangerous ( and are not all of them like that? the people he deals with on a daily basis?)? They are the kind of people born for what he does and he sure as hell won’t let her go.
And I believe he keeps pulling at the strings he has on her tighter bc he knows she is not sure of what she wants herself, but he won’t let her slip away from his fingers.
That is why I also think he is in way too deep with her. Why he let her under his skin and he is not thinking rationally, not 100%. She probably won’t use the dealership again ( for reasons - the FBI still there and Dean). I don’t know how she is gonna do it but she will go back to launder money for him and I believe he will help her with that.
DOES HE NEED TO?
NO.
She is taking too much of his time already. This woman is soo high maintenance. Too much of a headache.
However, I believe he likes it. He has fun with it. He lets her get away with too much. Oh, you all know I said that A LOT of times before.
I do believe he wants her, like hard still.
He is a man after all, who appreciates good, pretty, not too easy to get kind of things.
Beth Boland is like that. She is interesting.
Do I believe they will drive into the sunset together or that he will turn into a puppy for her?
 LMAO nope.
I’m happy with how the writers are handling things for now.
The only thing I hated was how they didn’t give us the trio comedy that Rio x Ruby x Annie is. But I guess they preferred to spend more time on that scene of the FBI breaking into Boland Motors 
But, yeah, I have faith in the writers and the cast bc they gave us a lot already and if they could make an episode look great even when heavy spoilers were published, oh just imagine what else they can give us.
I think we’ve been well fed compared to other shows ( I said that already but whatever. I still believe we are!)
Balance is not easy to manage and hell, I’m happy I’m not a writer bc damn,  it is not easy to keep everyone in a fandom happy.
( there is no way u can feed everyone, not all the time, right?)
sorry that this became such a monster of a post xD
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askamydaily · 5 years
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Family abuse leads to scars and estrangement
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A survivor wonders: will grace help him to achieve closure?
August 7, 2019
Amy Dickinson
Dear Amy: I am a man in my 60s, happily married for 31 years. We have two wonderful young-adult sons. I am also estranged from my elderly parents and my one younger sibling, a brother.
I grew up with an alcoholic, physically abusive father, and a cold, distant and critical mother.
My father whipped me with his belt. Something as simple as spilling my milk at the dinner table would get me a swift and painful slap on the side of the head.
My mother had no sympathy, and didn't protect us.
I left home as soon as I graduated from high school and have always lived at least 2,000 miles away from them.
My brother became an alcoholic. I, too, had issues with substance abuse, and made poor relationship choices as a young man.
Through counseling, some difficult interior work (and a lot of grace), I found a better way to live than how I was raised.
I married an amazing woman, and we created a family and home that is a place of joy and healing for me to this day.
It has been 15 years since I have seen my parents. I do not miss them. I have gotten random letters from them over the years, questioning my mental health, accusing me of being an elder abuser, and of being ungrateful and unforgiving. I mostly ignore their letters.
I don't know what I should do when one of them dies. I wish them no harm, but when it does happen, I imagine it will be more of a relief for me than a time of grief.
Part of me would want to see them buried just to have some kind of closure, but when I think about attending the funeral, I imagine it being very unpleasant. Any advice?
-- Estranged Son
Dear Estranged: You deserve huge credit for creating a life for yourself and your children that was the opposite of what you received in childhood. Hard work meets grace, indeed!
I think that many of us imagine closure as an open line that is finally stitched shut into a circle, completing a difficult journey. But my own experience with family dysfunction, loss and grief was more like a spiral: As you make your orbit through life, you pass the same points over and over again, even as you create more distance from the events and people that caused you pain. Each orbit brings you more useful perspective.
That having been said, I also believe in showing up, even when you suspect the experience might be painful. That's where grace comes in. If you show up with an attitude of humility (and minimal expectations for how others will behave), you will say goodbye, and perhaps also find the grace to move toward forgiveness for both the dead and the surviving parent.
Your beautiful and healthy life is a triumph. Carry that with you as you go.
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praphit · 5 years
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Shazam: It's good to be dysfunctional.
  Shazam!
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First I'd like to say that "Shazam!" has been my catch phrase for as long as I can remember. I think that was actually my first word as a baby. It's a perfect word to use when you're excited about something that someone has said, but you don't really want to commit to anything. Like I said, I say it all of the time, but that doesn't mean I'm coming to that party, or going on that date, or agreeing to bust you out of jail. I love this word! I've got to look into getting some money due to DC stealing my catch phrase, but in the meantime, let's talk about SHAZAM! - the movie.
There's no good way to say it - DC has been effing up lately. BUT, I think this has been due to DC trying to be like Marvel. They were doing fine until they started building a "universe". But, I figured it out - Marvel is like that well off, well put together family. They all help cook and clean, they all say their prayers, they recycle, they've got a swear jar that's almost empty... of course they have their problems, but they have enough money to fix them or hide them. DC is the dyfunctional family.
First off, they've got a sitch where they have two dads (Supe & Bats) and a mommy (WW). But, the dads are much more into one another than they are the mommy. Eventually, the two dads ran off (maybe with one another who knows??), and mommy decided she doesn't need anyone else's help, so she's doing her own thing. Uncle Aquaman checks in once in a while when he's sober... and don't get me started on the cousins.
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DC is dyfunctional, but that's ok! I feel like they're starting to believe that that's ok as well. Shazam came on the scene and said, "Come here you lil neglected DC kids, let me tell you my story." He understands them, cuz one of the things you'll learn about Shazam is that he was abandoned as a child and became an orphan. He later on met an old wizard (btw - Djimon Hounsou sighting).
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Now this wizard has a special mission - he kidnaps... they may be too strong... he... transports kids and leads them to his lair, where he puts them through a test of purity. If they fail he kicks them out after telling them they aint's shit. But, if they pass, they get the opportunity to grab his staff and receive his power. How about those options?? The odd thing about this test (well, ONE odd thing) is the test is a matter of temptation to grab an orb from seven demons (named after the seven deadly sins). Now, it's not as if these demons are appearing as ... Idk, the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders
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(then we've got some challenge)
- no, they look more like this -
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Yeah... any child who fails this test deserves whatever is coming to them. And this pic doesn't even do the movie demons justice.
Anyway, Shazam passed (kinda - it was more like the Wiz ran out of time)! (at age 14) - and fortunately nothing creepy happened to him; instead now whenever he says the name "SHAZAM!" he pretty much becomes Superman meets Rayden from Mortal Kombat.
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This movie is all about this boy (Billy Batson) randomly becoming a super powered MAN, and trying to figure out his powers, what a hero should be, and picking a cool name. There's also some "real talk" stuff going on with the topic of foster parents/kids and a mom that abandoned him when he was a small child (not Wonder Woman... I don't think). But, the movie stays on the comedy path for the most part. I laughed a lot in this movie. Like I said, Shazam is mainly here for laughs and fun. He's like "You've got enough of doom and gloom from the rest of the DC universe".
This film is more on the family friendly side... although the super villain IS possessed by those seven demons I mentioned earlier, so if you think about that (the names of these demons), it's slightly darker than you might think, but the movie doesn't focus on that too much. There is a strip club in here as well. WE (the audience) don't see anything, but the kids do a few times - it's used as a device to crack some jokes at the club's expense. I guess if you happen to be a stripper you may take offense. It's called "The Booty Trap". and I'm sure the ladies who work there are lovely:)
I don't have too may issues with this movie, honestly (though I'm not a stripper). I will say that it's a lil long; just a lil. And Shazam (though Zachary Levi does a great job!) is kinda one note. BUT, he's 14! What 14 year has any depth? Not like Batman, who instead of going to therapy when his parents were killed, decided to spend his life beating the holy snot out of people every night. That makes one complex. Or Wonder Woman living on Woman on Woman Island (don't make that face - it was an island of only women - either they were all abstinent or... you know.) Plus, that golden lasso... imagine the truths she has heard, especially when coming to our world -
WW - "Golden Lasso, do your work! Make them tell me the truth!"
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"Wonder Woman, I cheated on my wife!"
"Wonder Woman, your ass is too fat for that costume!"
 "Wonder Woman, I killed them all! And then ate them... and I'll do it again... delicious."
"Wonder Woman, I hate brown people and women!"
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She'd be like "Mr. Trump, I haven't even lassoed you yet."
Point being, that's a lot to absorb  - a lot of complexity. Shazam doesn't have that (yet). But, for the most part, that's a good thing. It's a refreshing break from all the dark stuff.
I guess one could complain about body image stuff. When he says "Shazam" he turns into a muscle freak. Later in the film, there are more kids-to-super-powered-adults who fight. The men all turn super-muscled, and the ladies... fit, but... idk. It'd be funny if a girl shouted the words and turned into one with a body like Chyna (RIP)
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, and a boy did so and turned into one with the body of Danny Devito:)
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I don't particularly care, I'm just sayin... again the point is to sit back and have fun with this movie. And it def accomplishes that.
Grade: A
Another thing, this movie doesn't care about Batman and Superman running off. They're like screw'em! We don't need them. And after watching this film and seeing what's down the pike for DC, maybe they're right.
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Signs of insecure Man you should look out for...
If you ask me, insecure men are a toxic version of ‘the One1. They are masters at making you feel like you’re the only girl in the world and they are masters at covering up their insecure behavior with toxic behavioral patterns.
Even though most of them would never admit it, many men have very fragile egos that can be easily broken. To be more exact, insecure men have low self-esteem and fragile ego that are trying to hide at all costs.
You might not know it but when a man is emotionally insecure, his insecure behavior impacts all aspects of his life.
Insecurity is usually triggered by past events
Something probably happened to him in the past which caused him to be this way, and with time, his insecurity became one of the biggest reasons why his relationships don’t work out.
When you first meet this guy, you don’t see his true face right away.
Instead, he will probably be quiet and mysterious which will intrigue you and make you want to get to the bottom of all the layers of his personality.
Nevertheless, as time goes by, you’ll notice that this man isn’t sure about himself.
You’ll see that he is actually emotionally unavailable and that he carries a lot of emotional baggage which will become a huge burden for you before you know it.
I suppose these are the questions that are running through your head right now:
What exactly are these hidden warning signs of insecurity in a man?
What are the clues that can help you figure out if a man has confidence issues and if you’re dealing with an insecure partner?
How do you deal with an insecure man?
What are the main causes of insecurity?
Insecure Men: What Are The Signs Of Insecurity?
The biggest sign of insecurity is low self-esteem. People with low levels of confidence think badly about their skills, abilities and they might have body image insecurities as well. A negative self-image usually reflects on every aspect of their life.
If you google insecure meaning or what does insecure means, you’ll get this answer: uncertain or anxious about oneself; not confident. However, low self-esteem is not the only sign of insecurity.
Other signs of insecurity:
Perfectionism
Anxious or avoidant attachment styles
Anxiety or depression
Job insecurity (poor job performance)
Self-isolation
Anxious or avoidant attachment styles
When it comes to romantic relationships, insecure people have an anxious or avoidant attachment style.
In other words, they have a dysfunctional approach to relationships. Those who have an anxious attachment style tend to be emotionally dependent on their partner, they have a fear of being alone and often they have unrealistic expectations in a relationship.
They fantasize about being in a perfect relationship which is not really possible because such relationships don’t exist.
Those with an avoidant attachment style keep relationships superficial and avoid building intimate connections with their partners.
What Are The Main Causes Of Insecurity?
The main causes of insecurity are lack of self-confidence, fear of failure, and lack of trust in others. A healthy dose of insecurity is desirable but the problem arises when insecurities become constant and severe.
Low self-confidence, fear of failure, and lack of trust are influenced by many other factors from childhood or in adult life:
Divorce
A traumatic event
Bankruptcy
Environment
Loss
The media
I would like to refer to two things from this list and that is a traumatic event and the media. If a person has experienced something traumatic such as betrayal in a past relationship, chances are they will have trust issues in the next relationship.
They will constantly be in a state of anticipating the worst. Every single person will be a threat to them (be it their partner’s friend or a colleague). This will trigger their insecurities and make them overreact.
Another main cause of insecurities (perhaps the biggest cause of insecurities generally) is the media and social networks in particular.
If you haven’t noticed so far, the media is skilfully imposing this message to you: “You need to look “perfect” or “exactly like this” if you want to find a partner or if you want others to like you.”
What does this do to you?
Well, you start getting a dysfunctional vision of never be truly happy if you don’t look like a certain celebrity or so and so or have such and suıch body measurements and neglect the most important aspect of self-worth and self-love by false implemented imagination of society.
You can spend tons of your money on trying to reach perfection or trying to be who the media wants you to be but the more you’re doing it, the more insecure you’ll feel.
You are beautiful. You are worthy. You matter.
Insecurity doesn’t make you who you are. The truth is, we all feel insecure from time to time but not all of us are ready to stop for a moment and think about what causes it. Well, now it’s time to do that.
Understanding = overcoming.
What Are The Characteristics Of An Insecure Man?
One of the first signs of insecurity in a man is connected with love bombing.
When you first meet a guy like this, he will immediately start acting like you are the love of his life and the one he’s been waiting for all along.
Everything will seem perfect…
Of course, in the beginning, you’ll be more than happy that you have met this man who isn’t afraid to express his feelings after all those douchebags who were stringing you along for ages.
An emotionally insecure man declares his undying love for you right away.
Not only that—he will also start talking about the future he has planned with you even before you two get to know each other well.
At first glance, something like this will probably flatter you and you will be bursting with happiness about finally meeting a guy who sees your worth and obviously thinks of you as special.
After some time you’ll realize that something’s off.
Nevertheless, after you think about it, you’ll find that something is wrong with that picture and that you’re dealing with an insecure partner.
Don’t get me wrong—love at first sight probably exists, but even if it does, you wouldn’t be telling your date that you love them right away.
So, you can’t help but wonder what is wrong with this guy who is obviously too good to be true.
Do insecure men play games? Is he lying to you just to manipulate you and to get into your pants? Or is he so desperate for love that he is lying to himself?
Either way, something is clearly wrong. After all, you are not teenagers, and love declarations are not something a grown-ass man should play with.
A man who is insecure constantly feels threatened and intimidated, and it is definitely a red flag you should pay attention to.
Insecure people don’t think they are good enough and they live in the constant fear that you are going to break up with them and leave them for someone else.
The guy we are talking about has probably been hurt in the past or he didn’t get enough attention from his ex-girlfriend or maybe even as a child.
Either way, all of it caused a serious problem in his personality, left deep consequences on his mental health, and made him the insecure person he is today.
Being betrayed by his ex-girlfriend in the past made this man expect the worst from everyone, including you.
He simply can’t force himself to trust you completely, due to his abandonment issues, and he lives in constant fear that you might break up with him.
Even if you show him you love him and want to be with him, he will doubt you because some girl cheated on him and broke his heart before you came along.
Of course, this lack of mutual trust makes it impossible for the two of you to build a healty relationship, no matter what you try to do about it.
Playing mind games
Playing mind games is one of the signs of an insecure man and tools emotionally unbalanced and insecure men use to cover up their insecure behavior. And your guy is no exception.
This man has the urge to keep you under control as much as he can because he expects that to raise his low self-esteem.
He will manipulate you into doing things he wants you to do, just so he can be sure you are going to stay with him, that you are not going to hurt him, and that you won’t find someone better.
Even though he doesn’t show it at first, he doesn’t think that he is good enough for you.
Of course, he is frightened that you will walk away from him the moment you see the truth, so he is doing everything in his power to turn the tables.
In order to mask his insecurities, this man will use different tricks and manipulation techniques to make you think you are the lucky one to have him.
Of course, in the beginning, you don’t let him get to you, but with time, his sneaky manipulations make you believe that all of it is actually the truth.
This all happens due to this guy’s insecurities, but it is very dangerous because it can destroy your life and mental health as well if you don’t figure out what’s at stake right from the start.
One of the warning signs of insecure men is definitely their inability to socialize and form healthy relationships with others.
Don’t get me wrong—this doesn’t mean that all introverts are emotionally insecure, but the fact is that men who have self-confidence problems are usually loners and don’t feel comfortable around people, which is one of the first signs of insecure behavior.
Maybe they’ll have one or two male friends or co-workers, but even they will get pushed away at some point.
People who don’t recognize emotional insecurity in a man will describe such a person as a shy introvert and won’t see any red flags in their behavior.
However, the truth is, they have some serious problems and insecurity issues.
They are emotionally unavailable, and if you try to date such a man, you’ll probably end up regretting it.
The best way to deal with an insecure man is to show support and encourage him to open up to you. You need to give him some time to improve himself. If you’re dealing with an insecure man, here’s what you need to do:
When it comes to dealing with insecure men, the first step is evaluating your relationship aka finding the root of your man’s insecurities. Think about whether your behavior is making him insecure.
Evaluate your relationship, your personality, and your behavior. If you’re one hundred percent sure that his insecurities have nothing to do with your behavior, chances are the root of his insecurities is linked with his past.
Being supportive and understanding is the key to helping your guy overcome his insecurities. Avoid being judgy or forcing him to change because this will not help. Instead, it will make things even worse.
What you need to do is communicate with him and try to eliminate all his doubts and concerns. Compromise is more than welcome in this situation.
When someone is feeling insecure, they think that they aren’t worthy of being with you. That’s exactly how your man feels. And that’s why you need to let him know the value he adds to your life. You need to remind him of the importance he has in your life.
The insecurity issues your boyfriend is dealing with might be due to his past experiences. What you need to do is encourage him to talk about it.
Perhaps he had toxic parents, or his ex-girlfriend made him feel insecure in his past relationships and now he has issues trusting you.
The fact that he is talking about his past is progress in itself because he’s accepting that he has a problem and he’s ready to work on it. Of course, you cannot expect him to start talking about it immediately.
Usually, such people need more time to open up to you about things from their past, so patience is required.
Don’t EVER lie to him (even when you’re sure that he won’t find out). When you feel the urge to lie to him only to make him feel less worried, stop for a second and think about the consequences.
If you want to help him open up to you about his insecurities and past, then you’ll have to share your concerns and insecurities with him. Mutual sharing and confiding in each other will strengthen your relationship.
You already know that being open and honest with each other is the basis of any healthy relationship.
You need to be comfortable with each other in order to be able to share your feelings and talk about things that make you feel vulnerable. Encourage him to talk about the things that are going on in his mind, his insecurity triggers, and how he perceives your relationship.
Show concern and let him know that you’re worried about his mental health. Don’t act like he needs to stop being insecure just because of you.
Of course, his insecurities are damaging both your relationship and your well-being but you need to understand that he’s the prisoner of his own mind.
Insecure people don’t act like that because they want to but because they don’t know how to get out of this confusing labyrinth.
Don’t expect him to change overnight. You and I both know that this will not happen. Instead, give him time and space to improve himself.
Try to be as patient as possible and don’t rush the process. Still, this doesn’t mean that you should keep fighting for him if you see that things are getting worse.
Without a doubt, you should try to help your guy but if you don’t see any signs of improvement after some time, you need to protect yourself. There’s no point in staying in a relationship with someone who isn’t ready to work on themselves.
The key term here is ‘working on themselves. So, yes, every relationship has its ups and downs and/or relationships that are beyond fixing Insecurities are not one of those things.
If your guy is willing to overcome it, he will succeed in doing so but if he’s not ready to do anything about it, know that you deserve much better.
Namaste
Julie
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A Christmas Miracle
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Request: “Can you do a Loki x Reader where the reader is in a dysfunctional family that ignores her and he comforts her?”
Requested by: @animefangirl809
Word Count: 1,935
Warnings: None
Summary: The reader lives with her family who ignores her and it’s Christmas time. After dealing with multiple events on Christmas day, the reader is fed up and goes to a cafe where she meets Loki who makes her feel better.
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You woke up late in the morning and realized what day it was. Christmas. You figured it was going to be like every other day however. Your parents would be completely focused on your younger siblings and ignore you.
You got into your “walk around the house” pajamas and went downstairs. As you walked into the living room, you weren’t surprised to see that your family had started without you. As you watched your little siblings tear open the wrapping paper on their many gifts, your father leaned over to you.
“I’m sorry, but we didn’t have any time to get you presents this year,” he whispered so the kids wouldn't hear.
Your heart sank. Of course you weren’t expecting a whole lot of gifts, but you were hoping for some.
“It’s okay.”
“Merry Christmas,” you added trying to change the subject.
“Merry Christmas,” your father replied, and he turned his attention back your siblings.
After a while, your sister got up and headed over towards your stocking. She picked it up and smiled at you, “Your stocking’s empty, because you didn’t get anything.”
You were dumbfounded. Did she seriously just say that to me with a smile on her face?
“Why didn’t Y/N get any presents?” your brother asked looking up from his large pile of unopened gifts. “Was she bad?”
“No. Children who are bad get coal in their stocking,” your father replied.
“Did Santa forget about her?” your little sister cheerily asked.
“No. I gave Santa my list that said what I wanted for Christmas too late,” you responded.
That was the reason your parents blamed it on. Well, that and the fact that your youngest brother had gotten sick. You understood that it made the situation harder, but not impossible. After all, your younger siblings had gotten plenty of presents.
It wasn’t even your fault that you hadn’t told them sooner. You didn't want to shove a long list in their face telling them to get you everything listed for Christmas. You waited until they asked what you wanted. They didn’t ask until a week before Christmas.
After your siblings had opened all of their presents, you excused yourself to go get ready for the dinner later on tonight when your extended family would come to your house and exchange gifts.
Once you got in your room, you laid in your bed and snuggled up in the warm blankets. Even Christmas had managed to be taken away. You quickly dozed off and woke up later in the afternoon.
You hopped in the shower and planned your outfit for that night’s dinner as the warm, soothing water ran down your body.
Once you came back into your room, you quickly got ready. Excitement started to build up in your body. You loved to see your aunts and uncles. They treated you the same as they treated everyone else. Sometimes you even ended up getting more attention than your little siblings. You only got to see them for the major holidays like Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, since some of them lived far away.
You were excited for the feast of delicious food as well. Your Aunt Heather always brought the best barbecue beans. The rolls were always to die for. The macaroni and cheese was always better on this day than any other day. You couldn't wait to stuff the honey ham in your mouth that your grandfather had cooked earlier that day.
You left your room and began going down the stairs, which led into the main part of the house. With each step, you became happier and more excited. Once you reached the bottom of the stairs, however, there was no one there.
“Where is everyone?” you asked patting down the skirt on the dress you had decided to wear specially for the dinner.
“The dinner was cancelled, since your little brother is sick,” your father replied.
All the happiness that had been flowing through you had been sucked out in an instant.
“Oh,” you paused trying not to show your emotions. “Okay. Would you mind if I went to the cafe nearby then?”
As soon as your father replied, you rushed out the door and into your car. You sat there for a moment while the car heated up. You felt bad for your little brother, but you had attended family events before when you were sick. Also, you thought, why couldn’t your parents keep him upstairs in his room and have one of them stay with him. Especially since your father didn’t really like social events.
You drove to the cafe and quickly ran inside. It was a white Christmas this year, which meant it was extremely cold and your dress didn't help keep you warm.
Once inside, you smelled the enchanting scent of coffee beans. This cafe was your safe haven. Whenever anything went wrong, you came here. You placed an order for your favorite drink. After the barista gave it to you, you sat down at your favorite spot. It was a loveseat placed by the window. You loved to people watch, and this seat gave you the opportunity to see people inside the cafe as well as outside. You were surprised your spot was open, however, because the cafe was packed with people warming themselves up with a hot beverage.
You still felt pretty bad, but the loveseat as well as your drink warmed up your spirits and began making you feel better. You let your mind drift as you began watching the people outside the cafe. You enjoyed seeing the happy couples holding hands as well as the cheerful families. No one was left behind as the adults and older children talked amongst themselves and the children played together as they were looking at the many toys displayed in the windows of the small shops.
You felt a hand on your arm which broke you out of your daze.
“Can I sit with you? All of the other seats are taken,” a stranger with piercing green eyes and long black hair asked you.
“Sure,” you said not completely thrilled that you had been brought back to reality but happy that you weren’t alone.
The man sat down next to you and introduced himself, “I’m Loki by the way.”
“Y/N,” you replied.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you all alone in a cafe on Christmas night?” he asked.
You sighed. You didn’t want to go into your entire backstory and you didn’t want to lie, so you decided to keep it short and sweet. “Family issues.”
You didn’t want all of the attention on you, and you realized he was by himself as well.
“What about you? Why are you by yourself?” you asked.
“Family issues,” he responded.
“Cheers to that,” you said as you clinked your mug against his. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s nothing really. I went to a Christmas party, and it turns out my brother didn’t really want me there. As well as everyone else.”
“I’m sorry,” you said feeling dumb afterwards. Sorry wasn’t going to fix anything.
“Your turn,” he said, and you could sense the curiosity lingering in his eyes. You quickly looked away not being able to hold his gaze. He was extremely good looking, and you didn’t want to rant about your issues to a stranger. However, since he told you his story, you were now indebted to him and had to tell yours.
“Honestly, it’s been this entire day. I woke up to see that my siblings had started opening presents without me just to find out that I actually didn’t have any presents at all, because my parents ran out of time. Then I get ready to see my extended family for dinner, which I was extremely excited about, just to find out that the dinner was cancelled. That’s why I’m wearing this here,” you motioned to your blue dress as you spoke the last sentence. “Sorry that sounded a little spoiled as I say it out loud. It’s not just today though. It’s every day. I’m never going to be seen as equal to my younger siblings in my parents eyes. Therefore, I’ll never be treated equal.”
A tear rolled down your face and you sniffed. There was a moment of silence, and you realized that you had just poured your soul out to this man. You quickly became embarrassed and wiped the tear off of your face.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have told you all of that. I-”
“Don’t apologize. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that. I completely understand. My brother was always put up on a high pedestal while I was ignored. I was never given a fair chance. At least my mother cared somewhat for me. I’m going to go get us more drinks.”
You were shocked. Was he just saying all of this to make you feel better? Was he being genuine? As you continued to wonder, Loki came back with two red mugs that were almost overflowing.
“Thanks,” you said as you carefully grabbed ahold of the cup.
You sipped the cup as Loki continued talking. The two of you talked through the night about everything. You talked about the past, the future, the good times, the bad, as well as your wishes for life. As you continued talking, an employee came over to the two of you.
“I’m so sorry, but we are closing in a few minutes,” the employee said.
You looked at the clock on the wall. “Oh my god! It’s almost eleven! I am so sorry,” you responded quickly getting up.
Loki stood up slowly and turned towards you, “ Would you mind if I walked you to your car?”
“Of course not!” you blushed. He grabbed your hand and the two of you walked towards your car.
“Merry Christmas!” you said after you rolled down your window.
“Merry Christmas,” Loki replied and stood back from the road as you started your car.
The car stalled, and you tried to turn the key again. Nothing.
“Of course,” you muttered.
“I can drive you home if you want,” Loki said once again at the window of your car.
“That’d be amazing! Thank you!” you responded. Loki came around the car, opened your door for you, and helped you out. He led you to his car and once again opened his passenger car door and helped you in.
You gave him the directions to your house as he drove and you were soon back at your house. You got out of the car and turned towards Loki.
“Thank you so much! Good night!”
“Good night,” he replied. He waited until you had gotten into your house to pull away.
You woke up the next morning to loud knocking on your door.
“Come in,” you said groggily.
“This came in the mail for you,” your mother said as she handed you the package.
“Thanks,” you replied as she closed the door.
You opened the package to see a little white box wrapped in a red bow. You carefully untied the bow and opened the box. Inside was a necklace with a snowflake pendant on it. You saw in the lid there had been a piece of paper stuffed into it. You unfolded the paper and read it.
Merry Christmas Y/N. -Loki
Below his name you saw he had wrote his phone number. You ran to the mirror and happily put on the necklace. You had in fact received a present. Better late than never, you figured.
Thank you so much for reading! Please like/reblog. Happy holidays!
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tanadrin · 6 years
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Has anyone ever tried framing the benefit no-fault divorce in the language of market efficiency? I am 1000% sure this is not an original argument, but I wonder if it’s ever been used as a component of actual campaigns to legalize it.
In societies without divorce, abusive or malicious partners have less incentive to work on their abusive behavior, because once a marriage is solemnized, the spouse cannot leave (and in societies where women are expected to be dependent on their husband, the effect is strongly enhanced); therefore, an abusive spouse or a bad partner has little incentive to improve their behavior, except innate human empathy, which is clearly insufficient if they’re abusive or malicious in the first place, because it is difficult for their partner to leave them. In theory their partner could leave, but as a matter of law and interacting with the bureaucracy they’d be married, and significant social and legal difficulties would follow them because this personal status could not change.
Societies with stigmatized divorce (traditional Jewish divorce, many countries with divorce laws on the books in the period before they adopted no-fault divorce) have the same set of incentives, only partially weakened. The conservative argument that making it difficult or impossible to abandon a marriage (favoring the repeal of no-fault divorce or, e.g., the creation of marriages with special status, the “covenant marriage”) improves incentives for both parties to work on their marriage ignores situations where marital problems are asymmetric in nature, and the person whose behavior is making their spouse’s life difficult is content (or more content) with the status quo. Social pressure to behave well to one’s spouse is also insufficient, because abusers are, particularly, known to be able to present a charming front to other members of the community, to the point where targets of abuse are often disbelieved.
No-fault divorce (and later marriage, and economic freedom for women) makes it harder for bad partners to find mates. They still do, of course, because human relationships are complicated, but the primary effect of the factors contributing to “instability” in modern relationships is that, in fact, people are better able to sort their pool of potential partners, which is also bigger, since one doesn’t have to marry the first person they sleep with, and children don’t have to be had while the couple is very young. If you can be choosier, you can weed out the jerks sooner (in theory), and jerks will find less success in the dating pool.
Therefore, I would predict, if this theory were correct, that rates of spousal and child abuse would go down in the wake of the abolition or decay of traditional, patriarchal expectations around marriage and childrearing. Thus, modern marriage, though it still has faults like being an ad hoc welfare state of two, should be much better at creating an environment in which to raise children, and should produce children overall with less traumatized childhoods, than historically. Measuring this effect would be complicated by the fact that traditional societies, or conservative and insular religious ones (here I’m thinking of orthodox Jewish communities, or conservative Christian ones, or all of Europe and North America before, oh, say, 1950, or whenever this issue became incorporated into the feminist movement) are likely to not discuss and not report child abuse and spousal abuse to the authorities, if these actions are even illegal. The reported rate should actually spike as norms shift away from conservative attitudes to marriage, and people report abusive spouses to the police to protect themselves and their children. Once they can rely on such reports being taken seriously by the police, and their family supporting their decision to leave an abusive partner (or just a toxic one, but it’s not illegal to be a gigantic jerk), only then should we see a decrease in the statistics, which would have lagged behind the decrease in the real rate for some years. There are likely to be other additional variables which I have not accounted for that you’d need to account for to get an accurate view of how flexible family structures affect child/spouse abuse rates.
One potential objection: single-parent homes have worse outcomes for children; this seriously challenges the above theory. But has anyone compared the outcomes of children in single-parent homes with the outcomes of children in abusive two-parent homes? Because if the option is “suboptimal family arrangement” versus “abusive family arrangement,” the former seems preferable to me when it comes to raising children who are well-socialized and happy. A great deal of non-systematic literature has covered the idea, from the children of such homes, that parents who divorce because their relationship is extremely dysfunctional are preferable to parents who stay together and are miserable. The prevalence of single-parent homes is also closely tied to poverty, and no one has sufficiently disentangled the two statistically, to my knowledge, to produce an actually useful result, much less a policy prescription that amounts to more than “keep adults who no longer wish to be together in a relationship with each other.”
Being able to select one’s partner freely also has advantages where formerly functional relationships become dysfunctional; and as optimistic as the view is that improving an existing relationship is better than social instability, no one who has advanced that view seems to support, say, additional state funding for marriage counseling, much less having it covered by health insurance, or seems to be in support of state funding for additional social services to address the issue of child abuse or spousal abuse, which become far more serious when the abused cannot escape without serious social and legal disability--and, for women, who would normally be housewives in the idealized marital arrangement envisioned, economic disability. Nor do they advocate delaying marriage and childrearing, which seem especially important to me in societies where you get to choose a life partner only once; people in their teens and early twenties are not at all known for being able to make resilient life choices that stand them in good stead until the day they die.
Note: arranged marriages, I predict, should be even worse as childrearing environments from this perspective, since the person who makes the choice of spouse is not the person who has to live with it. The alignment of incentives is basically terrible--which reflects, in many cases, the history of marriage as a property transaction among men, not a childrearing arrangement between a man and a woman.)
Note 2: also, to be clear, I think even in suboptimal arrangements, most marital relationships are or can be mostly non-dysfunctional. That certainly doesn’t mean they’re optimal for human flourishing, to say nothing of the flourishing of children specifically. A functional marriage is not the same as a happy one, and a society even with many happy marriages is not the same as a society with many happy women, who, as the ones with the least economic freedom, are the ones who always seem to get the shortest end of the stick in these social structures.)
Final note: I’m sure there are interesting statistics on self-reported happiness in more constrained, traditional marriages. I also think it’s interesting, though, that violent crime in the U.S. has been declining since the 90s, 20-30 years after child abuse became a feminist issue, and the general availability of no-fault divorce. Lead is a persuasive explanation, but is unlikely to be the only contributing factor. Can’t find any good statistics on domestic violence over time in the U.S., but as I said above, I would expect the reported rate of that kind of crime to rise over time, even as the actual rate was falling. And I hope it is not controversial to observe that men abusing their wives tends to be more acceptable in societies with traditional and restrictive views on marriage. Poverty may be a confounding factor there--but I also expect that happier and healthier generations of children, less likely to pass on their parents’ dysfunction, are going to be better at leading lives with good economic outcomes, and thus that, over the long term, one of the ongoing contributors to economic growth is that we’re getting better at raising our children, and not routinely abusing and traumatizing them. Like, we forget this, but there have been ages of the world in which raping your wife, beating your children black and blue, forcing your daughter to marry someone against her will so he could rape her, and giving the baby a sparrow with broken wings to play with until it was crushed to death were all perfectly normal things to do, and that some of these things were perfectly normal in living memory in the Western world. And I could easily imagine that one of the reasons past societies have been more violent, poorer, more xenophobic, and more stagnant, was that everyone was by our standards constantly traumatized by their shitty upbringing. Is it a coincidence that in the 19th century, the temperance movement saw a society in which alcohol abuse was so rampant that it would be better to ban it altogether than try to convince people to use it responsibly. Now we think of them as hand-wringing moralists, but I think that their observations might have been pretty reasonable--but they only saw the symptom, not the underlying disease.
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