every time i talk w my parents i have to remind myself not to get swayed by their doting affectionate act.

🚀 Unleash the Scoop: All About the 'Frasier' Reboot! 📺

#FrasierFrenzy: The Hilarious Resurrection of Tossed Salad and Scrambled Eggs! Ahoy, fellow couch potatoes and sitcom aficionados! 🛋️ Are you ready for a wild ride down memory lane, with a splash of modern malarkey? Well, hold onto your remote controls, because guess what's making a comeback? None other than the iconic, the legendary, the "I'm listening" inducing Frasier! 🎉🎙️ Remember that sophisticated therapist from Boston, Frasier Crane (played by the inimitable Kelsey Grammer)? The one who thought moving back to his rainy hometown of Seattle was a great idea, apparently forgetting how bad his hair gets in humidity? Yep, that's our guy! But wait, there's more! This time around, he's back in all his neurotic glory, and he's bringing the whole gang along for the laughter-packed ride! For those who aren't in the know (which is quite a shame, really), Frasier aired for a whopping 11 seasons, capturing hearts and chuckles from 1993 to 2004 on NBC. And guess what? It's getting a reboot. I know what you're thinking: "Has it really been that long? Is Frasier still obsessed with fancy opera and expensive wine?" Well, buckle up, because it's been almost two decades since we last saw the Crane clan in action, and they've got a lot of catching up to do! But hey, for the uninitiated, let me break it down for you: Frasier Crane, therapist extraordinaire and lover of all things sophisticated (except maybe his hair products), decided to bless us with his presence once again. And this time, he's not just a therapist. Oh no, he's got his own talk show! That's right, he's ditched the couch for a microphone and a spotlight, and he's ready to analyze the world's problems one hilarious quip at a time. 💁‍♂️🎤 Now, let's not forget the juicy bits that made the original Frasier a sensation: the dysfunctional family dynamic! Frasier's relationship with his cranky old man, played by the late John Mahoney, was comedic gold. And don't even get me started on his neurotic brother Niles (David Hyde Pierce), whose obsession with hygiene and fine dining could put Martha Stewart to shame. 🍷🍽️ So, here's the scoop: after nearly a decade of teasing and speculation, it seems like the gears are finally turning for the long-awaited Frasier reboot. According to none other than Kelsey Grammer himself, they're knee-deep in the shenanigans of scripting the first episode. And guess what? Kelsey cried while reading it! Now, I don't know about you, but if a guy who's played Frasier for so long is shedding tears of joy, we're in for an emotional rollercoaster of hilarity! And the cherry on top? Kelsey let us in on the secret ingredient to the Frasier reboot's success: it's none other than Frasier himself. Groundbreaking, right? Turns out, it was always called Frasier because, well, it's him! The man, the myth, the radio show host—Frasier Crane! 🕺📻 So, folks, get ready to be whisked away into the absurdity of highbrow humor, quirky family antics, and a ton of "I'm listening" moments. Because whether you're an OG fan or a newcomer, the Frasier reboot promises to deliver laughter, nostalgia, and maybe even a few spilled glasses of expensive wine. 🍷🤣 And don't you worry, my friends. We've got our popcorn ready, our laughter on standby, and our remotes in hand. Because the Frasier frenzy is about to hit our screens once again, and we're all in for a wild, wacky, and utterly wonderful ride! 📺🍿🎢## #FrasierFrenzy: The Hilarious Resurrection of Tossed Salad and Scrambled Eggs! Ahoy, fellow couch potatoes and sitcom aficionados! 🛋️ Are you ready for a wild ride down memory lane, with a splash of modern malarkey? Well, hold onto your remote controls, because guess what's making a comeback? None other than the iconic, the legendary, the "I'm listening" inducing Frasier! 🎉🎙️ Remember that sophisticated therapist from Boston, Frasier Crane (played by the inimitable Kelsey Grammer)? The one who thought moving back to his rainy hometown of Seattle was a great idea, apparently forgetting how bad his hair gets in humidity? Yep, that's our guy! But wait, there's more! This time around, he's back in all his neurotic glory, and he's bringing the whole gang along for the laughter-packed ride! For those who aren't in the know (which is quite a shame, really), Frasier aired for a whopping 11 seasons, capturing hearts and chuckles from 1993 to 2004 on NBC. And guess what? It's getting a reboot. I know what you're thinking: "Has it really been that long? Is Frasier still obsessed with fancy opera and expensive wine?" Well, buckle up, because it's been almost two decades since we last saw the Crane clan in action, and they've got a lot of catching up to do! But hey, for the uninitiated, let me break it down for you: Frasier Crane, therapist extraordinaire and lover of all things sophisticated (except maybe his hair products), decided to bless us with his presence once again. And this time, he's not just a therapist. Oh no, he's got his own talk show! That's right, he's ditched the couch for a microphone and a spotlight, and he's ready to analyze the world's problems one hilarious quip at a time. 💁‍♂️🎤 Now, let's not forget the juicy bits that made the original Frasier a sensation: the dysfunctional family dynamic! Frasier's relationship with his cranky old man, played by the late John Mahoney, was comedic gold. And don't even get me started on his neurotic brother Niles (David Hyde Pierce), whose obsession with hygiene and fine dining could put Martha Stewart to shame. 🍷🍽️ So, here's the scoop: after nearly a decade of teasing and speculation, it seems like the gears are finally turning for the long-awaited Frasier reboot. According to none other than Kelsey Grammer himself, they're knee-deep in the shenanigans of scripting the first episode. And guess what? Kelsey cried while reading it! Now, I don't know about you, but if a guy who's played Frasier for so long is shedding tears of joy, we're in for an emotional rollercoaster of hilarity! And the cherry on top? Kelsey let us in on the secret ingredient to the Frasier reboot's success: it's none other than Frasier himself. Groundbreaking, right? Turns out, it was always called Frasier because, well, it's him! The man, the myth, the radio show host—Frasier Crane! 🕺📻 So, folks, get ready to be whisked away into the absurdity of highbrow humor, quirky family antics, and a ton of "I'm listening" moments. Because whether you're an OG fan or a newcomer, the Frasier reboot promises to deliver laughter, nostalgia, and maybe even a few spilled glasses of expensive wine. 🍷🤣 And don't you worry, my friends. We've got our popcorn ready, our laughter on standby, and our remotes in hand. Because the Frasier frenzy is about to hit our screens once again, and we're all in for a wild, wacky, and utterly wonderful ride! 📺🍿🎢 Read the full article

Worst Flash Storylines and Plot Ideas of All Time

As you’ve probably ascertained from the general contents of this blog, the Flash is my favorite comic book series. I love the characters and most of the stories. However, just like any series that’s been around for eighty years (counting the Jay Garrick stuff), the Flash does, unfortunately, have some truly terrible stories and plot ideas. 

In terms of terrible plot ideas that didn’t completely ruin the surrounding stories: 

1. Barry Allen uses the Mirror Master’s mirrors to manipulate Iris into agreeing to start dating him again (Flash #109). Creepy, Barry. Just creepy. The story is great Silver Age fun otherwise. 

2. Iris West: meanest woman alive. Iris was, by and large, incredibly awful to Barry up until maybe about a year before their 1966 marriage. Almost every time she shows up in an early Silver Age issue, you will admire her daring and independence (this is good) and be bewildered as to why on Earth Barry would want to spend time with a woman who is constantly calling him slow, lazy, and ambition-less (this is not good). It doesn’t really affect any one issue too much, but when read in a conglomerate, she starts looking really awful. Although as bad as Early Silver Age Iris seems as a romantic interest, she’s got nothing on Silver Age Superman and Lois Lane, the most dysfunctional couple in the DCU. 

3. Wally West’s zero-effort code name and costume (Flash #110). It really could not be more obvious how little effort the writers were putting into creating this character. The duplicate origin is also pretty cheesy, but there are enough differences from Barry’s origin for it not to frustrate me. But the name “Kid Flash” and the fact that his first costume was literally identical to Barry’s just feel incredibly lazy. Barry and Wally do have an adorable dynamic in the issue, though, so it’s by no means all bad. 

4. Barry Allen waiting an entire year after his marriage to tell his wife that he’s really the Flash. Frustrating and unnecessary; especially since Joan Garrick had been in on her husband’s secret since the 1940s. 

5. Iris Allen is FROM THE FUTURE. I both love and hate this idea. It’s so perfectly comic-booky, but at the same time, it opened the floodgates for the Allen family being a confusing, time-displaced mess. 

6. The Trial of Barry Allen. This one’s weird. I like many of the individual issues in this arc, and I actually think the last two issues are really great as an ending for Barry Allen’s original run, but this storyline dragged on for waaaaaay too long. There’s a reason I call it the Arc that Never Ends. Also, the titular trial is actually the least interesting part of the entire storyline. His battles with the Rogues and Kadabra are far more interesting. 

7. Wally West’s borderline creepy, chauvinistic attitude towards women under Mike Baron (and, to a much lesser extent, William Messner-Loebs). There’s being a hormonal twenty-something, and then there’s going through girlfriends at the rate other people change their socks. Messner-Loebs mostly avoided this issue by making it clear that Wally was under intense psychological stress that was negatively impacting his behavior, but under Baron and in some of his JLE appearances, he comes across as a real creep around women. 

8. Kadabra overkill under Mark Waid: I like Kadabra, but when he’s the main villain in like four distinct arcs, it gets to be a bit much. It’s like modern Eobard. He is legitimately written well, though, so he doesn’t drag down any of the stories too much. 

9. Pointlessly Dead Rogues: Killing off the Rogues in Underworld Unleashed for no good reason (the rest of the story is great, especially the Trickster). 

10. Pointlessly Dead Rogues 2: Electric Boogaloo: The Golden Glider’s pointless death to build up a character who was himself killed two issues later. (The rest of the story is decent.) Also, the treatment of Lisa in general post-Crisis is frustrating, since she becomes considerably more unhinged than she was before. 

11. Any time Waid tried to write McCulloch, with the exception of Flash vol. 2 #105 (and even there, he seemed off). It’s like he forgot Evan wasn’t Sam. 

12. Apparently, the Top trying to blow up both Central City and half the world makes him a loser? Also, he suddenly hates Piper for no readily apparent reason. (At least the story had some good Piper and Wally bits.) 

13. BARRY ALLEN HAS A SECRET EVIL TWIN! DUN DUN DUN! (The rest of the story, where we get to meet a whole whack of interesting future Flashes, is actually pretty good, but whoo boy, the Malcolm reveal feels like it came straight out of a soap opera.) 

14. In order for Captain Cold to ANGST, the Golden Glider’s pointless death remained in place for over ten years. It did give us a really, really good Capt. Cold story, at least...but it’s still fridging. 

15. Rainbow Raider’s mean-spirited murder by Blacksmith. Poor Roy. 

16. Albert Desmond becomes Hannibal Lecter, only twenty times as rude, for a Gotham Central arc that would’ve been terrific without him as the main villain. 

17. Owen Mercer is an idiotic child murderer and gets killed by the Rogues. Why was this necessary? (The rest of Blackest Night: The Flash is pretty good.) 

18. Josh Jackam-Mardon’s murder. The murder of small children for shock value is pretty gross. Especially since nothing was ever really done with it. 

19. Barry’s PARENTS ARE DEEEEAAAAD! (Okay, it’s really just his mom, but still. This is a very frustrating retcon, since originally his parents were alive and well until after his own death.) 

20. Albert Desmond was Barry’s jerk coworker; which never impacted the plot or led to anything. As a result, it’s just another frustrating retcon. 

21. Sam Scudder murdered someone before becoming the Mirror Master. Yet another Johns retcon that never went anywhere and only serves to darken the Silver and Bronze Age stories after the fact. 

22. Flashpoint (a decent story) wiped out a whole bunch of characters I really liked from existence for several years. Evan McCulloch’s still not back. 

23. Giving the Rogues metahuman powers doesn’t suit them, on the whole. They work better without them. 

24. Roy’s second pointless, brutal death in (I think) Forever Evil. 

25. IT WAS MEEEEE, BARRY! After serving as the main villain for like six arcs in eight years, I’m glad that Eobard finally seems to be getting a rest. The level of bad things he was responsible for was getting ridiculous. 

26. Sam/Lisa. WHY? (The only time it even kind of worked was in Forever Evil.) 

In terms of entire storylines I didn’t like: 

1. The Flash: The Most Terribly Written Man Alive. Poor Bart is aged up with no adequate explanation, loses all the traits that made him a likeable character, fights some awful villains, and then is murdered by the badly OOC Rogues. Meanwhile, Inertia goes from an at least somewhat sympathetic villain to a complete psychopath with little explanation, a murder is retconned into one of Captain Cold’s reformed periods, the Pied Piper and the Trickster completely forget that they’re supposed to be reformed, Abra Kadabra inexplicably teams up with the Rogues despite generally being a solo operative, and all of the Rogues act like total morons, willingly following a teenage speedster for no adequately explained reason. UGH. 

2. Countdown to Infinite Crisis: Even though Piper and Trickster were probably the best part of Countdown, that isn’t saying much. Both of them are uncharacteristically stupid (especially James), and James is a grade-A jerk to Piper for no reason. Also, both of them continue to forget that they reformed, and then James gets brutally murdered and Piper almost loses his mind. Also, the other Rogues cameo, and continue to act like idiots. Countdown: it really does ruin everything it touches. 

Superboy Prime will kill you! He’ll kill you to DEATH! And after you read Countdown, you’ll wish he had killed you to death. 

3. The Identity Crisis Tie-In Retcon: So, you know all that awesome character development the Rogues have had over the years? Well, forget all that, because it was all just Roscoe brainwashing them! Which was something he could definitely do before this story! And why did he do this? Why, because Barry Allen, one of the most upstanding men in the DCU, brainwashed him! Also, apparently, the Top had a huge bodycount that we never heard about back in the Bronze Age, because we need even MORE grimdark retcons for our cheerful Silver/Bronze Age history! I like Geoff Johns’ work, I really do....but BOY HOWDY does he need to lay off on the retcons sometimes. 

4. Identity Crisis: With the exception of Owen’s introduction and the establishment of the relationship between him and Digger, this story was pretty awful all around. More specifically, as far as the Flash was concerned, it was responsible for Digger’s second pointless death. It also killed off poor Jack Drake and poor, mistreated Sue Dibney, who deserved MUCH better. And the Justice League, including Barry, are A-OK with brainwashing, apparently. Comics are fun! 

These last two stories are pretty recent, and they did have some parts I liked, but on the whole I felt they also belonged on the list. 

5. The Trickster finally returns! Hurrah! Except it turns out that he’s way more like the Joker now than he ever was before, and he mind-controls the city in a super-creepy way. A very disappointing return for the character, especially since it was set up really well. 

6. Forever Evil: Captain Cold becomes a murderous dictator with a stupid Santa Beard, all of the Rogues get horrible costumes, and Sam completes his mutation into Evan-in-all-but-name. There are some good characters bits in the story (even for Cold), but on the whole, I found the story to just be unlikeable and depressing and thought Cold was pretty out-of-character. Poor Commander Cold....

So, what are your least favorite Flash storylines and plot ideas? 

Who Said Love Was Easy? (2/12)

      There are many different kinds of people who come and go from your life. Some will stay constant and sturdy like a river, growing alongside you, others will come like a whirlwind who wreaks havoc and leaves just as quickly, then there is everything in between. In this twisted maze of connections, that is where our story begins. A steadfast boy, a girl with a past, a little bit of alcohol, mistakes, and some love. Where can you go wrong with that?

angsty fluff

w.c: 1.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      I’ve been spending more and more time at the pub, partly because I was still trying to coax the weary Jeongin into friendship but also Jaehyung has been inviting me to come over more, his nosy-neighbor-senses kicking in. I’ve nearly broken Jeongin though cause he’s warmed up sufficiently since running into him. Gahyeon on the other hand seems to be cautious around me but as the saying goes “keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” It wasn’t like she was any bad, if anything I could see why Jeongin was so infatuated with her. She gives off girl-next-door vibes minus the naivety. Like Jeongin, she brought in a lot of customers with that personality but as the only female server a lot of guys come through in hopes to be served by her. That meant Jeongin’s eyes were constantly on her, ready to step in at any given moment.

“It’ll be faster if you just start barking at people. Then everyone would think you’re crazy and people won’t pay attention to her. Are you trying to burn holes into her skull?”

“Can you not for one day y/n?” he rolled his eyes.

“I’ll stop if you stop first,” I wink before adding, “If anyone so much as looked at her the wrong way Chan, Younghyun, and Jaehyung would be there in seconds you know.”

“There’s just been a lot more creeps lately and it’s been really packed.”

“It can’t be helped. It’s summer vacation for college students so everyone’s going out to de-stress from exams. Why so overprotective anyways?”

“She got bullied in high school. She’s the type to say what she wants so a lot of the girls didn’t like her and a lot of the guys bad mouthed her because she rejected them bluntly.”

“Oh? she looks so pleasant I would’ve taken her as a pushover.”

“Wait why am I even telling you this?” He blinked a few times at the realization.

“Because we’re good friends obviously,” I leaned forward with a smile.

“Whatever, I’m telling the hyungs you dropped the honorifics.”

“No you aren’t.”

      There was a call from the kitchen and he briskly walked away. I shrugged it off since he was still working after all but as I watched his figure disappear into the kitchen, the next thing I knew Jaehyung bursted from the door and stormed over. My mouth fell agape at Jeongin who was watching me from the kitchen door snickering to himself. Snitch.

“l/n y/n!”

“Jaehyung-oppa listen-”

      Safe to say I was thoroughly lectured but it was worth it to know I made him smile… albeit because of my sorrow but minor details. Jaehyung asked to go home together again so I sat quietly in my corner seat as they had a store meeting. Watching them interact, now and throughout my time here, their dynamic was really something. Jaehyung and Younghyun act like they hate each other and are at each other’s throats yet they match each other’s energy to work perfectly together, Chan is like the middle child who acts like the youngest but will step up when needed, Jimin always butts heads with everyone but she still makes sure everyone is cared for, and lastly there are the two newest members Jeongin and Gahyeon… long term friends from school with the same sunshine type energy that every one of the older employees love to dote on like some dysfunctional… family… 

      Allowing my mind to fill itself with thoughts of Jeongin recently, I nearly forgot what time of year it was. Almost. My thoughts betrayed me and not wanting to make Jaehyung’s worrying/nagging worse I stepped out into the summer night. First it was just the loneliness setting in but it's different now with certain annoyances making an appearance last year. It’s like they’re watching and waiting… haunting me to make sure I can’t be happy for the rest of my life. All because of something I had no control over. As I tried to collect myself before I went down the family trauma rabbit hole, I received a text notification and rolled my eyes at the message. A strong urge to throw my phone came over me as my vision blurred red for a second and felt my arm raise for a moment, phone in hand, before a voice brought me back to my senses.

“Regardless of whatever you saw on there, I would advise you not to break your phone unless you can afford a new one.”

      Of all the people, he was not the one I pegged as someone who would’ve followed me out here. My brain was racing to pull itself together, still spiralling from the earlier train of thought, that my response exposed how confused I was.

“Jeongin? What are you doing out here? Aren’t you guys having a meeting?” 

“Yeah but hyung keeps looking to make sure you don’t leave so I decided to take one for the team and tell you to come back in so he can focus.”

“And here I thought you came out for me,” I joke as my arm falls back to my side, my snarky smartass persona finally loading up again.

“Whatever makes you happy,” he rolls his eyes before asking, “Is something going on though? You almost threw your phone and hyung usually isn’t this antsy with you.”

      He noticed? I couldn’t help the small surge of happiness that shot through me but of all the things why did he have to notice this? As tense as I was at his observation, I threw on my usual smile and did what I did best.

“Awww so we really are friends, you care,” I tease and he glared back at me. “Everything’s fine, really. Jaehyung-oppa thinks I get kinda weird around this time of year cause something happened last year. He’ll be back to normal by next week.”

“... okay. Are you gonna stay out here? We’re basically done anyways,” he responded as he glanced at the group inside before eyeing me suspiciously.

“Yeah, let him know please. Also let him know to stop being a worrywart.”

“Tell him that yourself.”

      With a huff he walked back in and I was finally able to relax. Leaning against the window with a sigh, I wished it was winter so I could watch the smoke curl from my lips into the air. It’s oddly calming to watch it disappear and to feel the chill set in my bones. Instead I’m left with the stifling heat of summer and the slightly unsettling thought that Jeongin possibly saw through the act… I’m such a mess. I want him to pay attention to me and now that he has I’m getting antsy. Well this is the only exception I guess, Jaehyung only knows cause he saw it happen. If I had it my way no one would know. Once in the safety of my four walls, I fell into my bed with a groan. Today kinda sucked but I knew it would only get worse until that day comes. Looking at my desk in the corner of the living room with unfinished work strewn across its surface, I let out a sigh. Might as well work to get my mind off it.

      Ding. Ding. Ding. Drowsily raising my head from my desk, I rubbed my eyes in annoyance. The sun was up and Jaehyung knew my door code so who is being so irritating this early? Looking at the intercom monitor, I should’ve known it would be one of those vermin. With a groan I went to “greet” my half-sister, clad in her expensive private school uniform, as I glared and leaned against the door frame.

“To what do I owe the honor of a visit from the princess herself?”

“You weren’t answering mom’s messages and she wanted to make sure you’d be coming home for dinner this weekend.”

“Let me guess. Grandma is invited so I have to show up to make you people look good? Not interested so leave.”

“Don’t act so high and mighty. If you didn’t want to be a part of this family you shouldn’t have-”

“Get it right,” I sneered. “Your mother kicked me out for being a reminder of her husband’s infidelity and was forced to sign away my rights to the family and shares left to me in dad’s will just so I could get the money he left me for college. I’m sorry I actually care to visit dad besides his death anniversary and happen to run into grandma, nothing changes the fact that I’m the illegitimate child right? So run along before you’re late.”

      She stamped her foot and huffed at my indifferent face and challenging tone before turning on her heel and stomping to the elevator. I tiredly rubbed my face before running a frustrated hand through my hair. I did not need this first thing in the morning. Back inside my apartment, I grabbed my phone and called my best friend.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning wakeup call?” He groaned in annoyance. We both weren’t morning people.

“How early can we hang out?”

“Depends. On a scale of “I miss you” to “I want to pull my hair out,” how bad is it?”

“Younghee blew up my doorbell at seven in the morning to tell me to have dinner with them.”

“Oof. I’m shadowing my dad today but tomorrow night for sure, okay? I promise we’ll have fun and you can forget about them. ”

“Our handsome Changbinie is so great~ This is why you’re my best friend.”

“Shut up, I’m still two years older and I’m your only friend y/n.”

“No, I have Jaehyung-oppa and the others from the pub!”

“How can you be friends with someone who doesn’t like your best friend? I didn’t even do anything to Jaehyung-hyung to be hated like this.”

“I don’t like you and you are my best friend.”

“I- Nope, you love me by default because I’m the only one who knows all your secrets,” he countered.

“Who said you’re the only one?”

“Lover boy doesn’t count. He was drunk and probably doesn’t remember plus it’s not like you’ll see him again.”

“Wrong. I can since I have~”

“Young master, President Seo says you must get ready.”

“That’s me,” he groans, “you better catch me up! Maybe your life won’t be a revenge drama afterall," he gasped teasingly. "Is it a romantic comedy?”

“Shut up, does that make you the second lead dearest best friend?” He faked a gag and I chuckled, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

———  BASICS! ♡

(PEN)NAME! ♡     lou

PRONOUNS! ♡     he / they

ZODIAC SIGN! ♡     virgo moon, taurus moon, leo rising.

TAKEN OR SINGLE! ♡     single 😼

———  THREE  FACTS! ♡

1! ♡    i am SUPER into making lists. i don’t know if it’s because i’m autistic, have ADHD, or because i’m a virgo – probably all three? – but i literally love making lists and spreadsheets. i also love organizing and sorting stuff. i will find a reason to make a list for literally just about anything. right now, i’m working on tackling this list of the shows i want to watch.

2! ♡     i can make my tongue form into a clover (three-sided) which is probably gross and i won’t embed a picture here, but showing it off has gotten me past at least 2 different forms of hazing so i feel like it’s worth mentioning at the very least.

3! ♡    most of you likely know that one of my special interests is history, specifically working class interpretations/tellings of history. i’m always looking to learn and educate myself more, but i can spew off a bunch of obscure facts about most points of american history which is... a lot. i spent 3 years in uni for history and almost got my certificate in queer studies before i dropped out and i might change my course of study now that i’m back in uni, but i now consequently own an obscene amount of books on imperial america. i may not shut up if asked about post/911 history or anything having to do with the bush presidency, or the war in vietnam/cambodia/laos. i’m sorry to anyone whose dm’s ive unleashed in before, lmfao. because of all of this, i feel like i enjoy writing essays and am better at academic writing than prose, which gives me a complex about my prose being too dry and not poetic enough so, fun times.

———  EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED! ♡   at the moment, i use tumblr and discord, and i sparsely use dreamwidth. before, i’ve used facebook and livejournal, and occasionally youtube, which is how i got into roleplay about 10 years ago.

———  MUSE  PREFERENCE! ♡

GENDER! ♡  i’ve always gravitated toward writing men and i was not self-aware enough to know my discomfort in writing women has always had to do with projecting my personal Butch Gender Envy and my own discomfort with societal notions of womanhood – however, now i can write any gender. at this point, i tend to be drawn toward nb/trans muses. 

LEAST FAVOURITE FACE(S)! ♡    i don’t HATE any faces i guess, but i dislike fc’s that are super popular or obviously the very problematic ones. the rpc tends to cycle through a favorite face 1-2 times a year. like semi-related, i guess, but: never forget the 2016-2017 e/iza g/onzales fixation, and the amber heard fixation that i feel like only recently ended but began circa 2012. and yes, ive been on this website for WAY too long.

MULTI OR SINGLE! ♡    i’m fine with interacting with either! for myself, i have frank and a multi-muse, which is how i tend to operate. i cannot operate more than 1-2 blogs at once, especially single muse blogs.

———  FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡    

FLUFF:    i love fluff! but it’s not all i enjoy. a big issue i’ve had is constantly perpetuating slice-of-life content with little plot. i love slice-of-life and fluff a whole lot but i need plot and dynamic building to back it up (more so dynamics, as i care more about character relationships than plot, usually, but point stil applies). i feel like a lot of people misconceive frank to be an overly soft, fluffy person – which frank definitely can be, but i’m kind of uncomfortable with the way he’s constantly written in fanfic to be a mindlessly loyal himbo (namely to karen bc k.astle fans are Like That) and the way his old-fashioned (and subsequently hypermasculine and condescending lmfao) nature is constantly lauded instead of questioned. he's not a great person lmao. also, i feel like this plays into people writing and portraying frank as straight in so much of the fic i read, which i dislike. 

ANGST:    i LOVE angst, but i don’t like trauma/torture porn. i like angst when it also props up plot and dynamics, but trauma porn? hate it. i feel like an issue that i have with angsty plots is that it tends to occasionally turn into a dynamic revolving my muse taking care of another person’s, or vice-versa (which ive ... tried to work, but still, i can be guilty of it!). i also specifically fucking hate (usually very graphic) immediate post-sexual assault/rape plots that have no basis in canon, which is such a specific thing to rip on but i’ve seen it more than once lmao and it makes me so uncomfortable. please stop torturing your muses for no reason. i feel like i’ve worked on doing that myself, and yes i am aware that the punisher is the hugest example of an edgelord, but uh.... please, i’m begging. 

SMUT:    ii feel like i enjoy writing smut but not just for smut’s sake. not too into pwp, but sometimes i can be. like what i’ve said about fluff and angst, it just depends! 

PLOT / MEMES! ♡    i LOVE both. i feel like memes at this point work better than starters for me. i also enjoy plotting a lot, which for me includes going back and forth about our muses, sending quotes/pictures/etc as inspo, etc. i enjoy that a lot about writing and it’s a huge reason why i love roleplaying - i just love collaborative storytelling. i have a very bad habit of dropping dm’s because my executive dysfunction is Bad and also i can get easily overwhelmed if too many people talk to me but just know i love both.

tagged by :  @vylingas thank you ♡ tagging :  @transforms, @bulletballet, @hammurabicomplex, @streetknown, @errorware, anyone who wants to do it!

The Beatles and Dysfunctional Family Roles

Humans are social animals. When one lives in a group, each has a part to play. A role in this great play that is life, if you will. 

All the worlds a stage,

And all the men and women merely players:

They have their exits, and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts.

— William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII.

These sets of adequate behaviors are determined by the expectations of everyone around us, eventually becoming internalized through socialization. This means that the role we play is also context-dependent, and should change and adapt according to different times and spaces. It’s only when we become too fixed in certain dynamics that there is a problem.

Humans are master profilers. We have to quickly know what role our scene-partner is playing, after all. Furthermore, we also have a tendency to generalize. To forget that these are merely parts and others and ourselves are much more complex than the character they present at any given situation.

Thus, humans are masters at creating tags (long before the ‘hash’ prefixed it). Each Beatle member has been attributed, from their very first days under the public gaze, a very specific part: the Smart One, the Cute One, the Quiet One and the Funny One. 

Like most labels, they are informative to a degree, which becomes limiting when one assumes that’s all there is to know. And even though there were infinitely complex individuals behind these fan nicknames, it’s curious how even within the band, in the privacy of their hotel rooms, these four young men fell into a very structured dynamic with very specific roles (which with time became stifling).

But it is wise to remember that the Beatles were more than a band.

They were a family.

This was something that they always identified with very keenly. They were brothers. (Of course, on top of this dynamic, John and Paul had the added complexity of also feeling like they were married.) 

But for now, let’s look upon them as the children that they were: four brothers in one big adventure. It probably pays to follow their self-denomination and examine what part each member played in this dynamic. And because I used the word “dysfunctional” in the title, let’s first establish what it entails.

One of the main distinguishers between healthy and dysfunctional family dynamics is just how fixed these structures are.

In any given family the individual members fulfill and act out roles….

While in healthy, functional families these roles are generally fluid, change over time, in different circumstances, at particular events and are age and developmental appropriate, in dysfunctional families the roles are much more rigid.

In a healthy family members are integrated and various parts may surface at different times at no threat to the family system. In functional families the roles are interdependent.

The various roles in a healthy family are parts of every person….

Healthy families in general retain functionality when individual members ‘leave’ the family system through ‘moving out’, starting their own families or even death of an individual member.

By contrast,

In dysfunctional families the roles are almost a form of continuity or stability of the family system, stifling development….

Members must submerge parts of their personalities and take on a role so they are less of a threat to the family system that must be kept in place. In the case of a dysfunctional family all the roles are characterized as co-dependent.

In a dysfunctional family each member takes a role, and/or is assigned one, to make up the whole which is the family. Rather than a family of fully (yet age appropriate) persons, the family system gears to create just one: the family itself.

In dysfunctional family systems when an individual member leaves, this creates an (almost) irreparable hole in the existing system… This is why dysfunctional families are often so enmeshed. The system needs all members to function as a unit, not as a community.

— “Healthy vs Dysfunctional Family Roles”, Out Of The Storm.

It displeases me to dish out a diagnosis, for the line between healthy and unhealthy is often quite subtle. 

But it’s hard not to argue that at times the Beatles tended towards the rigidity of a dysfunctional family. They have the resulting tensions and fallouts to prove it. Just the simple premise that the stability and continued existence of the family unit (the band) was more important than the wants and needs of its individual members is a sign of how prone they were to imprisoning themselves for the good of the whole.

In 1981 Weischeider identified five archetypes that children are assigned, originally relating to her work with alcoholic families. Since then the terms have evolved to cover other types of dysfunctional family systems: including the presence of other kinds of addictions; untreated mental health illnesses; sexual or physical abuse; fundamentalism or rigid dogmatism.

But what are these Dysfunctional Family Roles?

The Golden Child (The Hero)

This family member devotes his/her time and attention to making the family look “normal” and without problems. The Hero can mask or make up for the dysfunctional home life. Over-responsible and self-sufficient they are often perfectionistic, are over-achievers and look very good - on the outside.  The parents look to this child to prove that they are good parents and good people. Their goal in life is to achieve “success”, however that has been defined by the family;  they must always be “brave and strong”. The Hero’s compulsive drive to succeed may in turn lead to stress-related illness, and compulsive over-working. They learn at a young age to suffer the sadness of a parent and become a surrogate spouse or confidante.

While The Hero saves the family by being perfect and making it look good, the golden child may struggle to live up to his status.  In a Narcissistic Personality Disordered (NPD) family, The Golden Child is the recipient of all the narcissistic parent’s positive projections, and is their favourite child. The golden child is usually victim of emotional and (covert) sexual abuse by the narcissistic parent. (S)He is also witness to, and sometimes takes part in, the other children’s abuse. Many specialists believe that witnessing your sibling’s abuse is as damaging as receiving it.

The Caretaker (The Enabler)

Another descriptive word for this type of codependent family role is “the Caretaker.“ This is also a role a child can fulfill, especially in case the other parent/caregiver has not resigned to enable the dysfunctional Addicted or Narcissististic parent. The Enabler feels like they have to keep the family going. Over and over they take on the addict’s problems and responsibilities.

The Enabler is the martyr of the family, and often supports not only the dysfunctional behavior, but also a prime enforcer of the codependent roles that everyone else is required to play.

You often see this role in a family where the functioning of (one of) the parent(s) is impaired in some way, i.e. mental illness, substance abuse or a medical disability.  This child will attempt function as the surrogate parent. They worry and fret, nurture and support, listen and console. Their entire concept of their self is based on what they can provide for others.

The Enabler protects and takes care of the problem parent so that the parent is never allowed to experience the negative consequences of his or her actions. The Enabler feels he or she must act this way, because otherwise, the family might not survive. The paradoxical thing about The Enabler’s behavior is that by preventing the dysfunctional parent’s crisis, he or she also prevents the painful, corrective experience that crisis brings, which may be the only thing that makes the dysfunctional parent stop the downward spiral of addiction…

[Note: The Caretaker is often the “intra-familial counterpart” of The Golden Child, which can overlap and be played by the same person.]

The Problematic Child (The Scapegoat)

The Scapegoat is the “problem child” or the “trouble maker”. This family member always seems defiant, hostile and angry.  The Scapegoat is the truth-teller of the family and will often verbalize or act out the "problem” which the family is attempting to cover up or deny. This individual’s behavior warrants negative attention and is a great distraction for everyone from the real issues at hand. The Scapegoat usually has trouble in school because they get attention the only way they know how - which is negatively.  They can be very clever, may develop social skills within his or her circle of peers, and become leaders in their own peer groups. But often the groups that they choose to associate with are groups that do not present healthy relationships. The relationships he or she experiences tend to be shallow and inauthentic.

The Scapegoat is sacrificed for the family. The Scapegoat will be the “identified patient”. Scapegoats come in many different flavors, but two common ones are:  1) the picked, weak or sick child; or, 2) the angry, rebellious problem child who is constantly getting into conflicts. They are often self-destructive, cynical and even mean.

In an NPD family, The Scapegoat, or no good child is the recipient of the narcissist’s negative projections. They can never do anything right. The name ‘rebel’ implies that the child has chosen this role, which is debatable. The Scapegoat is usually victim of emotional and physical abuse by the narcissistic parent.

The Quiet One (The Lost Child)

The Lost Child is usually known as “the quiet one” or “the dreamer”. The Lost Child is the invisible child. They try to escape the family situation by making themselves very small and quiet. (S)He stays out of the way of problems and spends a lot of time alone. The purpose of having a lost child in the family is similar to that of The Hero. Because The Lost Child is rarely in trouble, the family can say, “He’s a good kid. Everything seems fine in his life, so things can’t be too bad in the family.”

This child avoids interactions with other family members and basically disappears. They become loners, or are very shy. The Lost Child seeks the privacy of his or her own company to be away from the family chaos. Because they don’t interact, they never have a chance to develop important social and communication skills. The Lost Child often has poor communication skills, difficulties with intimacy and in forming relationships. They deny that they have any feelings and "don’t bother getting upset.” They deal with reality by withdrawing from it.

In an NPD family, The Lost Child just doesn’t seem to matter to the narcissist, and avoids conflict by keeping a low profile. They are not perceived as a threat or a good source of supply, but they are usually victim of neglect and emotional abuse.

The Clown (The Family Mascot)

The goal of The Family Mascot is to break the tension and lighten the mood with humor or antics. (S)He is usually “the cute one.” This child feels powerless in the dynamics which are going on in the family and tries to interrupt tension, anger, conflict, violence or other unpleasant situations within the family by being the court jester. The Mascot seeks to be the center of attention in the family, often entertaining the family and making everyone feel better through his or her comedy. They may also use humor to communicate and to confront the family dysfunction, rather than address it directly. They also use humor to communicate repressed emotions in the family such as anger, grief, hostility or fear. This behavior is lighthearted and hilarious, just what a family twisted in pain needs — but the mascot’s clowning is not repairing the emotional wounds, only providing temporary balm. The rest of the family may actually try to protect their “class clown”. The Mascot is often busy-busy-busy.  They become anxious or depressed when things aren’t in constant motion. The Mascot commonly has difficulty concentrating and focusing in a sustained way on learning, and this makes school or work difficult. (Hence they also referred to as “The Slacker”.)

They often have case loads rather than friendships - and get involved in abusive relationships in an attempt to “save” the other person.  They have very low self-worth and feel a lot of guilt that they work very hard to overcome by being really “nice” (i.e. people pleasing, classically codependent) people.

— “Dysfunctional Family Roles”, Out Of The Storm.

Since then a sixth type is sometimes also considered:

The Manipulator (The Mastermind)

The Manipulator takes their experience of their hostile environment and uses it to their advantage. They capitalise on the family situation and play family members against each other. This individual will quickly become adept at recognising what the actual problem the parent suffers from. They’ll understand which one is the enabler, and which one is co-dependent.

Manipulators exercise this knowledge to control and influence family members. They’ll do it covertly, not directly. They never want to get caught. Gradually, they’ll learn what triggers the parents and their siblings and they will take shots at all of them…

Manipulators can turn into bullies, those who harass people and get a kick out of it. They are unable to form healthy relationships. If they are in one, they will be controlling with a partner who has low self-esteem.

They will only think of themselves and what they can get out of others. They feel that the world owes them for their lousy childhood and will go about getting it by any means.

— “6 Dysfunctional Family Roles People Take without Even Knowing”, Learning Mind.

It is not always clear-cut what role each member has been assigned, and the positions can change over time (normally as a result of the loss of one of the members). But people are inherently complex and multi-faceted. They have within themselves bits of each archetype. The unhealthy factor derives from the attempt to fit and perform one single one-dimensional role.

For example, John clearly acted up The Problematic Child publicly, but privately he also certainly had elements of The Dreamer; not only on the sense of being imaginative and introspective but also in his tendency for escapism and withdrawing from reality. 

Also, when the fear and pain affected him the most, he became desperate enough to play The Manipulator. He did this from early on, but with the help of Yoko (who I now think, as a result of her particularly difficult childhood, became a “primary” Mastermind herself) he became even more effective at it from 1968 onwards. 

JOHN: I did a job on this banker that we were using, and on a few other people, and on the Beatles.

Q: What?

JOHN: How do you describe the job? You know, you know, my job – I maneuver people. That’s what leaders do, and I sit and make situations which will be of benefit to me with other people, it’s as simple as that. I had to do a job to get Allen in Apple. I did a job, so did Yoko.

YOKO: You do it with instinct, you know.

JOHN: Oh. God, Yoko, don’t say that. Maneuvering is what it is, let’s not be coy about it. It is a deliberate and thought-out maneuver of how to get a situation the way we want it. That’s how life’s about, isn’t it, is it not?

— The “Lennon Remembers” interview, by Jann Wenner for Rolling Stone (8 December 1970).

In regards to the occupied archetypes, often one member has to fulfill more than one role. But because the structures are incredibly rigid, they can only perform one role at a time. This can cause even more internal stress as a result of not knowing which facet is being demanded of them at any given time.

Paul seems to have needed to balance being both The Golden Child and The Caretaker. This could explain his apparently parental role, alternatively characterized as masculine (Paul being a God/Father-Figure) or feminine (Paul being called the mother of the group). The gendered side of it relates more to society’s associations with these responsibilities (being “successful, brave and strong” = father’s job; taking care, “worry and fret, nurture and support, listen and console” = mother’s job), than I believe was ever consciously played by Paul himself. He just had a responsibility void to fill and he did it.

It is also crucial to understand that these dysfunctional dynamics are “transgenerational.” Meaning that “individuals reared in dysfunctional families tend to gravitate toward 'dysfunctional’ partners and create dysfunctional families of their own.” 

This leads me to believe that it’s very likely that the Beatles replicated a dysfunctional family when they got together because they each individually came from dysfunctional families of their own. Or rather, one of the reasons why the Beatles got together in the first place was because they each came from dysfunctional families of their own, and thus were attracted to individuals who shared these patterns.

I loved my association with John and Paul because I had something in me which I recognized in them—which they must have or could have recognized in me, which is why we ended up together. And it was just great knowing there’s somebody else in life who feels similar to yourself.

— George Harrison, interviewed by Alan Freeman for BBC Radio 1 (6 December 1974).

Maybe this is why John, Paul, and George were such a strong front-line on their own but needed Ringo, and not Pete Best, to finally complete the set.

It may also be another factor as to why John and Paul bonded so tightly, as Paul knew how to “handle” John and John wanted to be taken care of. (There is of course much more to the dynamic; this is just one of its possible facets, which was at risk of becoming draining and a source of tension when to fixed in this co-dependent state.) 

Again, it is hard to make an objective evaluation of the dysfunctionality of the Beatles’ biological families. There wasn’t so much awareness of the unhealthiness of some dynamics at the time, so many of the participants may even lack the words (or the will) to describe them. But the symptoms seem to be present. I believe that alone makes it worth looking for a potential cause.

Also, these attempts to create fixed dynamics for the stability of the family unit all seem to happen as a response to the inner inconstancy and instability of the forces governing the unit itself (normally the dysfunctional parental figure, but maybe can be extended to the life-circumstances themselves). For example, could severe financial instability be enough to create these patterns? 

Either way, we can find in the Beatles’ childhood sources of dysfunction easily enough. 

One that makes a common and expected appearance, in a liquor-filled Liddypool, was drinking, particularly in Ringo and John’s childhoods.

Ringo

Johnny Starkey would play a crucial role in the raising of his grandson, and by all accounts he was a full-on “wacker” (a much-used word for working-class Liverpool men and boys), being a drinker, laborer, gambler and brawler.

— On Ringo’s grandfather, John Starkey. In Mark Lewishon’s Tune In (2013).

Elsie, Harry, relations, friends and workmates would drink and sing through the evening until closing time, and then, well bevvied, tumble into Elsie and Richy’s tiny terraced house where the party carried on—more singing, more drinking, more swearing, Johnny and Annie Starkey on banjo and mandolin, the steam rising ever higher into the night… The boy would always remember singing at home “not in front of a coal fire but in front of a bottle of gin and a large bottle of brown,” emphasizing the point that, as many children have experienced down the years, the bond of good-time music and booze was significant. Years later, he would admit, “My parents were alcoholics and I didn’t realize it.”

— On Ringo’s childhood. In Mark Lewishon’s Tune In (2013).

Dingle people actually had much in common with cockneys. Both were poor and working-class, both were predominantly English/Protestant, both suffered terrible bombing at the hands of the Germans, and both liked a good drink and boozy sing-song. One big reason Harry fit right at home in Liverpool 8 was because he liked nothing better than to go to the pubs and clubs, get a few ales inside him and sing.

— On Ringo’s stepfather, Harry Arthur Graves. In Mark Lewishon’s Tune In (2013).

Richy took the job because he still harbored hopes of joining the merchant navy… But the job also had another attraction: booze. Richy was now a confirmed drinker. Regular exposure to alcohol in and around the home was an influence, and it was what many boys did anyway, swear and smoke and drink at the first opportunity.

— On Ringo’s second job at the tramp steamer St. Tudno. In Mark Lewishon’s Tune In (2013).

John

He was an ale drinker, but once he started drinking he’d drink anything. If there was a bottle, he’d stay with it.

— On John’s father, Alf Lennon, as told by close friend Billy Hall. In Mark Lewishon’s Tune In (2013).

Alf Lennon didn’t begin the new decade very well either. The Dominion Monarch docked at Tilbury before Christmas, after which he tomfooled around London with a few shipmates, waiting for it to sail again in mid-January. Alcohol was surely a fixture, opening time to closing with bottles between sessions…

— On John’s father, Alf Lennon, as told by close friend Billy Hall. In Mark Lewishon’s Tune In (2013). 

John’s time with Julia was also complicated by the presence of “Twitchy.” His relationship with Bobby Dykins was not all bad but neither was it particularly rosy. Pete Shotton isn’t the only person to recall him as an alcoholic…

— On John’s “step-father”, Bobby “Twitchy” Dykins. In Mark Lewishon’s Tune In (2013).

John, of course, had the added factors of possible mental illness in his mother, and the abandonment by his parental figures (Alf, Julia and Uncle George).

Paul

Paul also had the loss of his mother and all the upheaval it brought. I’ve talked before how I thought the suddenness of Mary’s death and Jim’s inability to be visibly strong enough in the face of it, made Paul feel like he could not rely on the people around him to always be there, and that he needed to protect himself and be independent. 

But now I wonder if there weren’t other possible sources of instability, that made him feel the need to take on responsibility even more strongly:

Though given such a strong foundation, Jim could not be spared from a further vice. For Jim McCartney was something of a gambling man, fond of betting on the horses. He once got badly into debt, though for reasons that at least had motives other than selfishness; his mother, Florence McCartney, who was capable of coupling a strongly matriarchal role with a fondness for humor of a most prurient nature, was badly in need of a holiday.

— In Chris Salewicz’s McCartney (1986).

Jim McCartney also enjoyed a drink, but would never permit himself to become so intoxicated that he was no longer in control of his own actions. That he should always maintain his self-respect was one of the principles of his existence, and one which he later passed on to his sons.

— In Chris Salewicz’s McCartney (1986).

The McCartneys had money worries. After the war, Jim’s job at the armaments factory ended and he returned to the cotton exchange, as a salesman for A. Hannay and company, but the war had changed everything; the cotton market was in chaos, and lie was lucky to bring home £6 a week. It meant that Mary also had to work and it was always a cause of slight embarrassment that she earned a higher wage than he.

— In Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

Yet the education that Jim McCartney offered his sons was not always conventional; they couldn’t help but notice his inability to pass a slot machine without putting a coin in it, or the way he would give quadruple measures of undiluted alcohol to guests. Later, when the boys were in their teens, he would show them how to get away with drinking underage in pubs, slipping them the cash to buy rounds of drinks.

— In Chris Salewicz’s McCartney (1986). 

Mum was a working nurse. There wasn’t a lot of money around – and she was half the family pay packet. My reaction was: ‘How are we going to get by without her money?’ When I think back on it, I think, ‘Oh God, what? Did I really say that?’ It was a terrible logical thought which was preceded by the normal feelings of grief. It was very tough to take.

— Paul McCartney, in Ray Coleman’s McCartney: Yesterday & Today (1996).

The boys went to stay with Jim’s brother Joe and his wife Joan, while friends and relatives tried to calm their distraught father, whose first thought was to join his wife.

— In Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997). 

A Hard Day’s Night had its London premiere on July 6, 1964, the day before Jim McCartney’s birthday… Then, as midnight chimed, Paul drew his father over to him. “Happy birthday, Dad,” he said, and produced a painting—perhaps the one mentioned to the Telegraph magazine—of a horse, which he handed to Jim.

“Thank you, son. Very nice,” muttered the somewhat confused father. (Later he was to tell Thomas Gaule about it. “I thought, ‘It’s very nice, but couldn’t he have done a bit better than that?’”). Then Paul revealed that this was a painting of the £1,050 racehorse, Drake’s Drum, that he had bought his father.

“You silly bugger,” was Jim’s joyous reply.

“My father likes a flutter [bet],” Paul said. “He’s one of the world’s greatest armchair punters.”

— In Chris Salewicz’s McCartney (1986).

Again, it’s hard to definitely label a situation problematic, but the impact it has on a developing person is more relative to how the person experienced it than to the experience itself. But perhaps Jim’s gambling habits, the family’s financial insecurity, Mary’s death, Jim’s consequent suicidal depression and/or possible self-medication with alcohol, all lead to the creation of an unreliable enough parent that the son had to occupy such roles. 

Also, it would be remiss not to mention the use of bodily punishment during their upbringing, which made enough of an impression on the McCartney brother’s that Mike would mention it often and Paul would never speak of it; until the early 2000′s, when he remarked how his father hit him across the face at 16/17 and he finally stood up to him and dared Jim to do it again. (I am getting ready a post specifically on it, so I hope to explore this subject further there.)

George

George’s situation is a bit harder to tell. He seemed to be the one most aware and most averse to his title as The Quiet One. Maybe it’s because he felt it was ill-fitted. He wasn’t the quiet one after all, among his own family:

I found Harry reticent and quiet; Lou was loud, vivacious, not shy at all—there wouldn’t be silence in the room when she was there—and George was bubbly like his mum. They all bounced off each other and would do anything for anyone, and they all had a wonderful sense of humor, George especially. I threw a strop one day and threatened to walk to Budleigh Salterton. I stayed away a bit but all I really did was go to the loo and kill some time before coming back. After that, whenever George went to the loo he’d say, “I’m just off to Budleigh Salterton…”

— Jenny Brewers, a family friend. In Mark Lewishon’s Tune In (2013).

But maybe the silence was meant to be read as stoicism in his more public persona: 

George was cool. He dressed as an individual and often to shock, to goad reactions—usually admiration from his peers and dismay from adults. He could be quiet, and sometimes grumpy, but he was always honest and never intimidated or afraid, standing up for himself verbally and physically. “He was cocky,” Paul would say, admiringly. “He had a great sense of himself. He wasn’t cowed by anything.”

— In Mark Lewishon’s Tune In (2013).

Whatever it was, George fit right in with the rest of them and easily slipped into his role, even if he was also the first to overtly buck against it. He  clearly wanted to expand beyond these parts in a play they had created within the Beatles, these fixed dynamics for the greater good of the band, which he now felt stifled by:

Q: What was the conflict with Paul? I don’t understand.

GEORGE: It’s just a thing like, you know, he’d written all these songs for years and stuff, and Paul and I went to school together. I got the feeling that, you know, everybody changes and sometimes people don’t want other people to change, or even if you do change they won’t accept that you’ve changed. And they keep in their mind some other image of you, you know. Gandhi said, 'Create and preserve the image of your choice.’ And so different people have different images of their friends or people they see.

— George Harrison, interviewed by a New York City radio station (25 April 1970).

Perhaps the Beatles, the family unit, needed to collapse in order to free its members of the fixed dynamics they had built the band upon. Maybe it was time to grow and evolve beyond the images of the people they were when they met as teenagers. And because they were different, but their images of each other often didn’t match, there was tension.

Still, I don’t think this automatically means that it was impossible for them to ever be good friends again, work together again or even reform. Everything is possible if one just chooses so. 

It would certainly be different. It would not be the same. But that would be good.

-

[This post was born out of conversations with the wonderful @ljblueteak and is an exploration of the concept introduced by Michael Gerber in the follow-up discussion to the Hey Dullblog entry “John and Paul, Friends and Rivals”.]

“The Farewell” Review: Asian Family Dramedy Finds Bittersweet Humor in Grief

Directed by Lulu Wang

Starring: Awkwafina, Zhao Shuzhen, Tzi Ma, Diana Lin

It’s been a while since I’ve gone out of my way to see a film that didn’t feature super heroes, dog-loving hit-men, or giant atomic-breathing fire lizards but a chance to see Awkwafina flex her comedic and dramatic chops while supporting Asian American creative voices was too good to pass up in “The Farewell.”

Director Lulu Wang’s film, based on “an actual lie” that her family went through, is a mesmerizing bittersweet and often hilarious take on the cross section of immigrant family values and the love that holds it all together. It’s the kind of story that will make you want to hug your parents and relatives extra tight, while laughing your ass off and shows a new angle to the family dramedy through Asian American voices that Hollywood rarely touches on.

(Since I’m sure most of you NERDS don’t watch Indie films, here’s the trailer to get you up to speed.)

“The Farewell” tells the story of an Asian American woman named Billi struggling to find purpose in her life out in New York. When she learns that her Nai Nai (grandmother) is dying from cancer she is told she is forbidden from telling her about her condition as per Chinese tradition. Under the guise of a wedding for her cousin the family uses it as an excuse to get together to be with Nai Nai one last time but the secrecy does not sit well with Billi and now she finds herself struggling with keeping the truth as it slowly eat her inside.

The best thing about “The Farewell” is that it doesn’t choose a side in its East vs West dynamic that may feel apparent in the film’s trailer. In fact, it’s more closely East AND West when it comes to the message of the story. The film doesn’t aim to vilify Billi’s family for hiding the truth from their matriarch but rather simply state this is how it is in China. It doesn’t try to state that this is the right way of thinking either, of course, as plenty of the film’s dramatic frictions comes from this lie but the film balances this East and West ideology very well by ultimately choosing not to take a side and simply show how this family loves one another which is ultimately more important to its narrative.

Though the film has an ultimately tragic premise it is here that much of the movie’s great comedy comes from and often at hilarious levels. It doesn’t simply make comedic scenes take place between the family drama it actually melds the two perfectly as humor comes directly from the tragedy. Often while viewing this film in fact you might find yourself wondering if you should laugh or cry and sometimes, you’ll end up doing both and the film is better for it in this way.

(That look we all gave when we tried to avoid spoiling “Endgame” to friends a couple months ago before they got a chance to see it.)

The film does such a wonderful job of making good, bittersweet humor out of this familiy’s struggle with tip-toeing around the truth that you’ll simultaneously want to sympathize with them and laugh at/with them at the same time. The humor can be both outrageous, dry and sometimes even dark in this way and makes for a very complex viewing experience. It’s a great balancing act that projects both emotions in perfect harmony from start to finish that’ll have you crying from laughter and sadness.

It’s the cast though that makes all this work perfectly as they form a believable loving but slightly dysfunctional family from various parts of the world. Tzi Ma is great as Billi’s father who struggles in his own way with his Chinese principles and his newer American beliefs. Diana Lin reminds me almost too much of my own mother, who is both loving and haranguing toward Billi throughout the film. And Zhao Shuzhen will make you wish she were your grandmother as her undeniable charm keeps the story humming along at a delightful and loving pace.

But it’s Awkwafina (real name Nora Lum) of course who shows off her impressive range here as both a dramatic and comedic talent that brings this all together here. Her catchy one-liners and star-making performance in last year’s “Crazy Rich Asians” was one of the film’s big highlights and she’s no less charming in “The Farewell” as well. 

Awkwafina carries this film as the audience’s primary western point of view but again it never turns to condescending of cultural traditions as our main character struggles internally throughout the film but never vilifies what is going on either. It’s a highly nuanced performance that shows Awkwafina’s star is indeed rising and deserving of recognition when awards season eventually rolls around.

(Side note: If I ever get famous I want to party with Awkwafina haha)

So, now it’s time for me to get on my soapbox again for a minute. If there was any doubt that diversity and showcasing minority artistic talents is important just look at all that’s changed in the wake of last year’s “Crazy Rich Asians.” I mean, just look at this picture of the theater I went to see this film at this past weekend.

It was a full house and it wasn’t even the showtime I originally wanted to see it at because the previous one had sold out too! And this wasn’t a crowd of predominantly Asian folk seeing this film; viewers of seemingly all backgrounds came out to see this wonderful family dramedy. It’s further proof that these films about the Asian American condition are relevant and more importantly have mass audience appeal.

On the surface a film like “Crazy Rich Asians” (especially compared to the complexities of this film) feels like a pretty standard rom-com but by getting it in theaters past all the countless bull shit, nay-saying it effectively broke down the door for new films that featured Asian Americans. In just a year’s time Henry Golding has already starred in “A Simple Favor” and is set to star in two more before the year’s end. John Cho was able to make his directorial debut with “Searching” and is set to play Spike Spiegel in Netflix’s “Cowboy Bebop.” Ali Wong’s “Always Be My Maybe” was a huge streaming hit as well on Netflix last month. And Marvel Studios is finally ready to have an Asian American super hero make his debut in Shang Chi later in the MCU’s phase 4.

(Ali Wong is just delightful if you didn’t already know btw.)

This is what I mean whenever I say Hollywood needs to give these films a chance because look how much has changed with just one movie. Who knows if a movie like “The Farewell” would’ve had a chance at even minor independent film stardom if a movie like “Crazy Rich Asians” hadn’t been given a chance to shine first on the big stage.

These movies and these people deserve a chance to tell their stories because they are relevant, they are poignant and more than anything they are good fucking stories! “The Farewell” is easily my favorite film of the year and I am grateful to “Crazy Rich Asians” for making it a possibility to be here. And if you think diversity still doesn’t matter then kindly just go fuck yourself because Asian Americans, these films and these beautiful, heart-wrenching and often funny stories are here to stay whether you like it or not.

(Seriously though can we like hang out, Ms. Awkwafina?)

“The Farewell” is well worth searching for a theater that’s playing it on the limited release circuit and will have you laughing and crying at the same time before and after the credits roll. It’s a film that will undoubtedly leave a mark no matter what cultural background you come from because the love in this story is relevant to everyone.

So, go see this movie and don’t forget to bring your Nai Nai too.

 VERDICT:

5 out of 5

*Me after the credits rolled.*

[Date: August 29, 2019]

By all accounts, every single Killjoys fan should probably hate Delle Seyah Kendry (Mayko Nguyen). She was a member of the Nine families on Qresh who sought to control the people of the Quad, and let’s not even talk about what she did to Pawter (Sarah Power). Yet somehow, over the course of the SYFY and Space series’ five seasons, Delle Seyah has managed to make viewers actively root for her, turned into an unexpectedly loving mother to Jaq (Jaeden Noel), and is part of one of the show’s most favorite couples. (Long live the #GreenQueens!) The fact that viewers have taken such a big liking to this queen is first and foremost surprising to Nguyen herself.

“I don’t think I clued into the fact that people actually liked Delle Seyah until maybe the third season. I had no idea that people liked her as much as they do,” Nguyen recently told The TV Junkies. Despite her past misgivings and the horrible things she’s done, Delle Seyah, along with her girlfriend Aneela (Hannah John-Kamen), give Team Awesome Force a lot of hope for a victory over The Lady (Alanna Bale). When we last saw the couple, they had finally reunited, got over the fact that Delle Seyah is now human, and safely tucked Jaq away in the cube before heading off to save the Quad!

That’s why we thought it’d be the perfect chance to catch up with Nguyen, who took a break on set from filming Season 2 of Citytv’s Hudson & Rex, about Delle Seyah’s journey over the years. She also discussed what it’s like to work with John-Kamen as Aneela, and why despite being thrown unexpectedly into parenthood, it’s something that Delle Seyah has really now embraced.

The TV Junkies: I think back to when we first met Delle Seyah in Season 1, and she had some great hate-flirting moments with Dutch, but then to see her as this character that’s become so integral to the show is just kind of wild. Did you have any idea of the journey you’d go on with this character and how important she’d become?

Mayko Nguyen: No way! I had no idea that she would become so integral to the show, ever! I thought she’d just pop in here and there for that one season. It really delights me to hear that people took to her right away because I’ve never played that kind of role before. She’s not very likeable in the beginning, and you always worry about characters like that because you don’t want a completely hateful character. I just never really knew, and when you’re playing these parts you’re not objective because you’re inside it. So you have no idea what the character will come across like and it’s hard to get a sense of how your work will translate and how people will respond. It’s really nice to hear that people enjoyed her from “Go!”

I had no idea that she’d carry further into the show, but also that she’d have the journey that she gets to have. When we see her in Season 5 she has grown up a lot. She’s not someone, from when I first encountered her, that I felt like needed to grow up. That’s not something I even knew about her.

TTVJ: She did say in last week’s episode she’s still “a really terrible person,” but I love her so much that sometimes I even forget that she’s the one that freakin’ killed Pawter! We should hate her, but I can’t help but love her so much. [laughs]

MN: Yea! But I do think she has changed and definitely Aneela has a lot to do with that. I’ve described her before as never having attachments to people or things, but there’s something that happens when you become invested in someone or something, where it just changes things. I feel like after Aneela came into the picture she had this purpose that she didn’t have before. I think she’s grown and changed immensely because of that.

TTVJ: Speaking of Aneela, the Green Queens really have their own way of conveying this real love they have for one another. You have played opposite Hannah for years as Dutch, but what is it like to work with her in this new capacity as you guys portray this couple and build that relationship together?

MN: From the actor’s standpoint, it was very interesting to see Hannah switch over to this other part. It was such a surprise because her take on Aneela was so different and so peculiar. To watch her do that part and expand that role was just fascinating. In the same way that I, Mayko, was fascinated, I felt like Delle Seyah was equally as fascinated. I don’t think she’s ever met somebody with the power Aneela has or is so cutthroat in a way that Delle Seyah relates to. I think Delle Seyah was constantly surprised by finding someone that she kind of understood, that she got, and that she related to.

It was fascinating watching Hannah work. She’s exceptional in everything. As an actor, to watch her put those fight scenes together — she does it in a heartbeat and it’s kind of insane. But to see her embody Aneela, that character is so intriguing, and so nuanced, and has such peculiarities that it was always a fun surprise to see what she would do.

TTVJ: Speaking of the fight scenes, Delle Seyah is getting to be a bit of a badass in Season 5. She starts off by throwing knives and then gets to have a bow and arrow! We’ve always known she’s a badass, but what was it like to bring out a more physical side of that with her?

MN: That’s always very fun, but as a person, I’m not the most coordinated. There was that knife throwing sequence, which is really basic compared to what Hannah has to do, but I’m not the most coordinated so I was a little nervous. You want to do it well too, and particularly for a show like this, with sequences that are so elaborate and well done. You want to stay in line with that. It was definitely fun to play though, and our stunt coordinator [Alicia Turner] was really great, took her time to work with us, and accommodated what I was capable of doing. It’s always fun to do that stuff though because I usually never get to do that.

TTVJ: I would also like to address Delle Seyah’s amazing wardrobe in Season 5. Everything that Trysha [Bakker, Killjoys costume designer] does is so great, but this archer outfit with the cut off sleeves seemed next level. How does wardrobe help you get into character?

MN: I think any actor will say what we put on our faces, our hair, and the clothes we wear is impactful in letting us feel that part. Trysha is incredible though, and I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed my wardrobe on something as much as this. Also, the way she evolved with the character. When Delle Seyah was pregnant, the wardrobe was much softer and flowy, and then in Season 5, it’s much more edgy, especially with the haircut and bangs. Definitely the wardrobe helped in feeling that more physical aspect of Delle Seyah.

TTVJ: It’s also been so much fun, as a viewer, to watch Delle Seyah, Aneela and D’av all get unexpectedly thrown into this world of parenting with Jaq and then, how they each deal with it. Despite everything, why does this family, who is a bit dysfunctional, still seem to work so well together?

MN: It comes back to what I said before, when you have something that you are invested in, that takes priority. Delle Seyah doesn’t have any idea what it is to take care of a child or love a child, but you can definitely say that she knows how to watch out for herself. Now that she has these two beings that mean the world to her, that need for self preservation just extends outward. It goes for everybody else, we don’t know what we’re doing. Take D’av even, he’s just trying to save the world and that includes his son. It’s all instinctual and you just do it. It was definitely a fun dynamic to play.

TTVJ: In looking back over the series, what is your favorite thing about Delle Seyah?

MN: My biggest surprise with her is just the change that happened. When I did that role I never thought she’d be anything beyond what she was in Season 1 — a callous, self serving, not so nice person. It was interesting for me to find out that she could be more than that, but her circumstances had to change to find that within her. That’s something, as an actress, that surprised me because I wasn’t expecting that — just the evolution of what she became was fun to witness unfold. I don’t think it was anything I ever consciously did. It was just working with what the writers gave you, and then it’s this weird thing that happens sometimes when you’re acting, and you realize a character has become something, even though you never actively did anything to make her that way. For me, it was just the surprise I felt watching her character unfold.

TTVJ: Now that you’ve been removed from her for awhile, have you had a chance to tie a bow on that chapter and say goodbye to her?

MN: I don’t think I quite closed that yet. I need to watch the final season. I like to binge so I’ve just been waiting, and I’ve not had time because of Hudson & Rex. I don’t think I’ve shut that down yet because it’s still out there and still happening. It’s not quite done in my mind.

TTVJ: You went almost immediately into shooting Hudson & Rex, which will be back for Season 2. Anything you can tease about that show’s second season?

MN: We just started shooting so I don’t quite know yet where we go over the year. It’s fun to be back and after the first season you always feel more settled. I think we’re more settled in our dynamics with each other too. Also, the dog is still really amazing! So expect more fun like in the first season.

Rec List: The Umbrella Academy

Part 1  Part 2

Rec List 2: Electric Boogaloo. I’m back with more fanfic recommendations for TUA! 

For the most part this rec list consists of only gen fanfics with the exception of one or two that focuses more on Klaus/Dave and their relationship rather than the dysfunctional siblings we know and love. You can probably guess what tags I’m currently frequenting. 

Again, this list only includes completed works. I’m also going to include an all encompassing drug-content warning because Klaus Hargreeves. 

Total Fics Recommended In This List:  35 Total in Last Part: 26

Is It Your Heart That Breaks First Or Your Fragile Bones by VeteranKlaus

Words: 37,803   Chapters: 10    Role-Swap AU   Pairings: Klaus x Dave

Summary: Number Four was a failure, he said. Number Four didn't have powers, no, he had schizophrenia. He took pills that came from his father's hands and told himself it was all a hallucination.

In the end, they should have known better. Klaus Hargreeves can speak to the dead, can conjure and control every dead soul, and he ends the world.

Or,Klaus' powers get out of hand at a young age. Reginald, the A+ parent, claims him as schizophrenic from there on. Eventually, he breaks.

Part 1 of  Neon Gravestones Try To Call (For My Bones)

Comments: Please, please do yourself a favor and read this. I ended up binge-reading it in a day during a roadtrip. The second half is especially good. I’m very excited for the sequel.

---

Tactile by��HapaxLegomenon

Words: 10483   Chapters: 1     Post-S1

Summary: "After the apocalypse that wasn't, Klaus struggles."

Or: Five times Klaus’s siblings tolerated his need for touch, and one time it (and he) was embraced.

---

Of Powers & Regret by CheerfullyCynical

Words: 3755   Chapters: 1  

Summary: In a world where sibling love is stronger than Luther’s idiotic idea to lock Vanya in a cage, Klaus – in a sober stupor – fights with his newfound powers.

Or, sibling bonding is the best bonding, Klaus' powers are out of control, and everyone needs a hug (but Klaus most of all).

---

Saturday Night by Cyane

Words: 1707  Chapters: 1

Summary:  One minute, Klaus is in the bowling alley, and the next minute, he's huddled in the trenches of Vietnam.

---

Where Love Should Have Been by Skullszeyes

Words: 1520  Chapters: 1

Summary:  Klaus still suffers from drug withdrawal, but he's also trying to figure out how to bond with his siblings, and be with them more.

Part 1 of Eating the Dead

---

Don’t Stop Me Now by twinfinite

Words: 5120  Chapters: 1    Pre-S1

Summary: Ben is dead and Klaus is doing Great.

---

The Cage You Wove Around Me is Perfect by shadowlancer_95

Words: 1702   Chapters: 1  

Summary: Klaus has a terrifying moment of clarity where he wonders just how much like dad Luther was.

Or,

In which Klaus is reminded of the mausoleum, decides to say fuck it to Luther and averts the apocalypse all on his own.

Part 1 of  The Umbrella Academy For Excellent Parenting

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Because I Could Not Stop For Death by shadowlancer_95

Words: 13,128   Chapters: 1   Pre-S1

Summary: No matter what anyone said, he isn’t suicidal.

Not really.

Or,

They've all been given a second chance, not just to stop the apocalypse, but to live their lives once again. This time, he's determined to not to be the useless weak link that he was in their previous timeline.

Comments: CW: Major Character Death.

Part 3 of The Umbrella Academy For Excellent Parenting

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it's almost summer, playing dumber than in fall by ohmygodwhy Words: 3259  Chapters: 1   Pre-S1

Summary: “Hey,” he says, leaning over the back of the couch, “can I knock down the wall between me ‘n Vanya’s old room?”

“What?” Luther asks, distracted.

“The wall,” Klaus repeats.

(alternatively: vanya went to college and klaus said "move, i'm gay")

Comments: Fun wholesome content amidst all of the angst.

---

you know you can bet on it by wearealltalesintheend Words: 1103   Chapters: 1

Summary: ...or, the one where the Great Bacon War is fought, bets are drawn, and sometimes the past really comes back to kick you.based on the prompt: “It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”

Part 1 of Tumblr Prompts

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Talk to the Hand by PunJedi Words: 5848  Chapters: 1

Summary: ...Or, an exploration into the mind of Klaus Hargreeves, aka The Séance, aka No. 4, aka everyone's favorite pansexual junkie disaster.

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Children Behave (That’s What They Say When We’re Together) by CaffeinatedWriter Words: 12,837  Chapters: 1

Summary: Klaus has always used the past to ground himself to the present.

---

A Little More Blue by Adox Words: 18,591   Chapters: 1   Pre-S1

Summary: Diego finds Klaus on one of his drug busts, and Detective Patch puts him in charge of babysitting the witness. It's harder than it looks, what with the trauma and all.

---

all the glamour and the trauma by ohmygodwhy Words: 8394  Chapters: 1   Pre-S1

Summary: They’re supposed to write a list, on their own time, of either the wrongs they’ve done to other people or the people that they’ve done wrong to, whichever one is easier. Klaus rolls the pencil between his fingers.

So far he’s got: Denny’s I stole a syrup bottle from, with buy a new syrup bottle and return it as a possible solution.

My dead brother, is second. Can’t bring him back to life, so nothing to be done there.

---

soul kitchen by ohmygodwhy Words: 17,088  Chapters:  2   Pairings: Klaus x Dave

Summary: He trips on acid for the first time at fourteen, leaves home at nineteen and meets Dave at thirty. Give or take.

(klaus, his love life, and maybe the love of his life, too.)

Comments: Not going to lie, this is absolutely one of my favorite fanfics I’ve read so far for TUA. It ruined Klave for me because they depict exactly how I want their relationship dynamic to be.

---

I’m Not Okay (I’m Getting There) by kittycatthetacodemon

Words: 49,739  Chapter: 2   Pairings: Klaus x Dave, Gen fic at heart

Summary: Between seven adults, even ones as severely damaged as they are, there's got to be at least enough common sense to mimic one semi-functional, competent human. Post-season one, Klaus and his siblings travel around in their own pasts, sort out some of their shit, and relive the week of the apocalypse one last time.This time, they get it right.

Comments: PLEASE DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND READ THIS. Chapter 1 was *mwah* but chapter 2 has a scene with Five that blew my mind. I loved it so much. Chapter 1 is Klaus POV and Chapter 2 is Five POV.

--- I’ll never ask for more by lunalou

Words: 7132  Chapters: 1

Summary:  or, Klaus is forced to face his fears in the mausoleum and his family worry

---

broken technology by JKWriter Words: 1438   Chapters: 1       Post-S1

Summary:  diego makes the mistake of buying klaus a phone

---

Ben Forgets He Can’t Walk Through Walls and Five is Helpful by dogsledwolf Words: 1487    Chapters:  1      Post-S1

Summary: He doesn't remember waking up, or for that matter, falling asleep. All he remembers is one minute there was nothing, a blissful unconsciousness, and the next he was standing in the middle of his room.

OrBen is having a bad day and Five helps.

Part 2 of How Does One Live?

---

The Truth Hurts by pupeez4eva Words: 2274     Chapters:  1

Summary: Diego whirled on her, glaring. “No! Our brother died! And what, that asshole just left him there? Didn’t even think to bring it up?!”

“Wow,” Klaus murmured, “He’s…really mad.”

...(Klaus lets it slip that he died, met God, and came back to life. His siblings are understandably shocked).

---

Ghost by smile_it_wll_get_better Words:  4629     Chapters: 1      Post-S1

Summary: Ben knew exactly where Klaus was going, why they gave him sedatives so he wouldn’t protest, wouldn’t make a noise. They were taking him to the mausoleum. The very place that hunted him all the way to his 30’s made him weep and scream and turn to drugs and alcohol just so he could forget it.

“Bring him back here now.” Ben screamed at their father, who was watching him with what almost looked like curiosity.

---

Going Native by sexysadie Words: 10,601    Chapters: 1     Pre-S1

Summary:  Klaus is broke. Drugs are expensive. Of course, his siblings are (not) more than happy to help out, and feelings come out along the way.

---

there is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends by Drhair76

Words:  1196    Chapters:  1

Summary:  or, the one where Klaus 'loses' a hoodie, Five gets a hug and Ben is proud.

Part 1 by  the night is dark but the moon is bright

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wake my spirit cold by captaincolonel Words:  29,632      Chapters: 1

Summary:  Klaus discovers his powers when he’s nine years old.It's pretty much downhill from there.

Part 1 of the wake my spirit cold

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Tripping Over Tombstones by apathyinreverie Words:  18,259         Oneshot Series: Incomplete       Post-S1

Summary:  A series of stories mainly about Ben and Klaus. Because they are my favorites.

Comments: I was basically reccing the entire series at this point so...

---

The Bottom Is A Rock by  Kierkegarden Words: 3781    Chapters: 1     Pre-S1

Summary:  ... or the 'how Klaus wound up in prison' story.

---

everything is half here by grit Words:  631   Chapters: 1

Summary:    Death has made him cold, but Ben still smiles genuinely at Klaus every now and then. He doesn't rage, doesn't scream, doesn't torment. That's not his way, that was never his way, and he doesn't pity himself.

---

break these bones till they’re better by Karturtle Words:  2436   Chapters:  1    Post-S1

Summary:   Ben always had a soft spot for Diego.

Part 4 of  you ask me where i've been(like i ask you where you are)

---

i rebuild when i break down by Karturtle Words:  2436   Chapters: 1    Post-S1

Summary:  Klaus and Ben hang out. Klaus fondly reminisces.(a cut scene from love you without any strings attached, my ben + klaus fic. can be read without prior knowledge)

Part 5 of  you ask me where i've been(like i ask you where you are)

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By The Firelight by courflakes Words: 14,681   Chapters:  6      Pairings: Klaus x Dave

Summary: The five significant times Klaus spoke to Dave. The one time he never will again.

Or, how they fell in love.

---

the inaugural class of the umbrella academy by zweebie Words:  13,028    Oneshot Series: Incomplete      

Summary: (usually) unconnected one shots about my umbrella children

PREVIOUSLY CALLED, BUT STILL INCLUDING: vaguely (if at all) connected one shots about klaus's deaths through the years

because Klaus going full on gina linetti and meeting god was probably my favorite part of the series (even though the scene broke my heart)

---

It Is Always Winter When Klaus Comes Home by tiredperalta Words: 11,305     Chapters: 1

Summary:  There begins a sort of ritual, every time Klaus leaves. It begins this way: A boy packs his bag with the intention of leaving once again. He walks into the nearest bathroom, washes his face in the sink with cold water. He looks at himself in the bathroom mirror. He buries his nails into his pale skin. He stands back after a moment, takes a deep breath and inspects the red indents appearing on his skin.

It finishes this way: The boy leaves the house via a bedroom window or a back door. On his way out, he sits on the ground in his garden. He lies back - more often than not in the snow that covers the ground - look up at the moon and then he disappears.

---

Into the Deep End. by Wendihomo

Words:  468   Chapters: 1    Pairings: Harold x Vanya

Summary:  The water was cold. No that wasn’t right. The water was eerie. Silent and completely still, soaking her from head to toe and seeping deep into her muscles. Her bones ached, fingers clutched into tight little fists. The water was growing colder, the soft drip of the tap was a constant buzz in the back of her mind.

Part 1 of  The Mind’s Eye

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Eave of Destruction by  siriuspiggyback Words: 5418  Chapters: 1   Post-S1

Summary:  Klaus was self aware enough to know that he’s been fucked up for a long time. So sure, the nightmares, the heart palpitations, the way his lungs collapsed when he thought about his childhood for too long - yeah, it sucked, but he was used to it. The flashbacks, though. They were new.

After two months post the almost apocalypse, Klaus was feeling pretty proud of how carefully he had maintained his mask of normality around his siblings. He was still fidgety and annoying, sure, but none of them had glimpsed at his fun new brand of fucked.

---

Dirge Without Music by  temporal-infidelity (gyabou)

Words: 13,354   Chapter: 5

Summary:  After Dave dies, he meets a little boy without a name who can see ghosts. He's strangely familiar.

Part 1 of  but I am not resigned

Five Times Steve Worried About Tony's Safety

Tony/Steve

Summary: ...and one time Tony asked him to.

[Read it on AO3]

Words: 3 427

1.

If Tony had been stupid enough to do this without a helmet of some sort, he would've tasted both blood and gravel right now. Maybe spit out a couple of teeth and spend a day smiling all tight lipped to hide the gap before getting it fixed. Possibly get a concussion. Fortunately he'd realized early on that he was most likely better off staying alive if he wanted to do this and get some sort of positive result.

Hence, getting knocked out of the sky to the concrete probably looked worse than it was. To others it seemed like a fatal fall. To him it was simply a matter of getting up and shaking it off.

He groaned as voices filled his ears, the coms going crazy with questions of his well being.

"Stark, are you all right?"

"Do you copy?"

"Holy shit, are you okay?!"

"I'm fine," he choked out. "Just got the wind knocked out of me, but I'm fine."

He sat up, shook his head and gazed out over the battleground, aka some street in New York that a lunatic with a cape and a laser had decided to attack. The others were still trying to take him down, and his coms had gone blissfully silent once he'd reassured them. He heaved himself up, regaining his breath quickly, and made a move to go join them. That's when he saw him.

Tony knew Steve was fast. Had practically seen him run the length of a football field in seconds. Therefore, he wasn't surprised when he saw him running in the speed of light over the battleground, but he was extremely surprised to realize he was rushing toward him.

"Steve, what-" he started, but when Captain fucking America came running that quickly with no sign of stopping you sort of forgot how to use your words correctly. They were both damn lucky that Steve stopped just in time.

"Are you okay?" he demanded, grabbing for the head of the suit in a attempt to cradle his face. "I saw you fall."

Tony didn't shrug him off. "I said I was all right."

"It looked bad, Tony."

"The suit helped."

Steve didn't seem to be listening. "I forbid you from ever flying that high again."

"What, and never be able to be of any help ever? I know what I'm doing, Steve."

"I know but- God, just- just don't scare me like that again."

Had this been different Tony would've leaned in to kiss him, but his suit and the villain still trying to destroy the city were in the way, so he only gave Steve's hand a squeeze. "Let's talk about this later."

Steve nodded. "Please be careful."

"You too. Don't think I don't know what a sacrificing bastard you can be."

Steve laughed. "Says the man who flew into space."

"Uh, guys," Natasha's voice suddenly said. "You're cute and all, but a little help here?"

"Right," they said, and Tony was off, making sure to not get knocked down again. A worried Steve might be amusing, but Tony didn't like being the cause of his terror. Even though he totally had the situation under control.

2.

This wasn't the first time something had exploded in his lab, but it had been ages since he'd been experimenting enough for it to be a big one. In fact, he couldn't actually remember it occurring since he moved into the Tower, which was why he wasn't too surprised when his fellow team members came barging into his workshop a couple of minutes later.

"Sorry," he said before they could demand answers. "I swear it was an accident, but we're all fine. Well, except for the suit I was working on. Teleportation is still off the table, apparently."

"Jesus Christ, Stark," Clint said. "I thought I'd find your burning corpse or something."

"That's not funny," Steve snapped.

"Did I say it was?"

"Tony, be honest. Are you sure you're okay?"

Tony blinked at Steve and slowly turned in a circle. "Not a scratch, but feel free to mourn my suit."

"Forget the suit," Steve said, his voice hard. "For fuck's sake, can you at least wear something to protect you in case things like that happen?"

Tony frowned. "And limit my mobility?"

"For your safety? Yes."

"Steve-"

"Tony, you could've died."

"But I didn't."

"No, but I'm not waiting around for it to happen."

"I'll program something. A shield of some sort that'll get activated during emergencies. Okay?"

Steve sighed, slowly and loudly, and nodded. "Okay."

"Now get out of my lab and let me work."

3.

Galas had become significantly more boring since he’d stopped drinking, but had improved a lot since his fellow Avengers had started accompanying him to them. He stood in the corner watching Clint attempt to uphold a conversation with a man who looked like he'd rather be anywhere but there while Nat snickered at him behind them. Thor was surrounded by so many people trying to talk to him Tony almost felt bad for him, but he looked content nevertheless, especially since he'd swooped in to save Bruce from standing awkwardly by himself and had therefore forced him into the group of people inadvertently. It was kind of funny.

Steve bumped their shoulders together, looking more amused now that they were both lowkey hiding from attention. "They're doing all right, don't you think?"

"Wait until Nat decides to join Clint's convo to scare the man half to death. Then we'll talk all right."

Steve barked out a laugh. "I can see it before me already."

"His widened gaze."

"Her lethal smile."

"Barton smirking beside her."

"That guys has it coming. He'd being incredibly rude right now."

They watched him check his watch for the umpteenth time, barely acknowledging Clint's words. They could tell Natasha was merely seconds away from stepping in, her amusement slowly slipping.

Tony shook his head. "You'd think people had learnt to treat superheroes and super spies better by now."

Steve's lips twitched. "They probably don't know what Nat can do. Or Clint, for that matter."

"They always underestimate Barton."

A tray with cups filled with a rosy pink liquid was shoved in their faces, and Steve declined it for both of them before Tony could even react.

"Don't you think it's time to start heading home?" he asked as the waiter walked away, and Tony checked his watch.

"Hm. Yeah. It's acceptable to leave now. Let me go ask the others real quickly."

If Tony had had any doubts about their eagerness to leave this gala, their sighs of relief would've been sufficient to convince him. He grinned as they walked out together, taking up just enough space to draw people's eyes and make it obvious that they'd stayed for at least a couple of hours. He couldn't wait to reach the tower. Grab some takeout on the way and sit in the kitchen, all of them relaxed finally and bickering about whether it was late enough to tune in for the night or if they could afford to play a game or watch a movie. In the end, the arguments about what movie or what game would take long enough that at least one of them would start yawning.

Tony might've felt a twinge of worry once over how well he knew them and their routines, but he'd accepted this weird and dysfunctional family dynamics of theirs ages ago, so he just called for their cars as they all lingered by the sidewalk.

"Hey, Happy," he said as he and Steve jumped into their shared car. "You think we can stop by that sushi place and get some grub?"

"Sure thing, boss," Happy said, starting the car smoothly and joining the traffic, which was surprisingly slow at this time of night.

Tony rubbed his palms together. "Great. I'm starving."

Steve nudged his side. "You did great in there."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "You expected me to run amok and make a fool out of myself?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "No, but it was as if you weren't even struggling. I'm proud of you."

"It's easier because you were there," he admitted. "All of you. If anything it was enough entertainment for a while." He pulled at his tie, glancing at the window to find they hadn't moved much at all. "Oh boy, this is gonna take a minute, isn't it?"

"Maybe we should call ahead to make sure they don't close the kitchen before we get there," Steve suggested.

"I don't want to keep them working overtime. God knows how much overtime. We'll see if luck is on our side when we get there."

"Why's it moving so slowly though?" Steve leaned forward, peeking around Happy at the abundance of cars in front of them. "I get that it's Saturday night, but this is ridiculous."

Tony's phone started blowing up then, and Tony answered Natasha's call distractedly. "No, I cannot do anything about the traffic. Wait, what?"

Steve watched him attentively as Tony listened to Nat, his eyes narrowing the longer she spoke. "Well, shit."

"What's going on?"

"Yeah, I'll check in on it. One moment." Tony hung up, turning to Steve with a sigh. "Someone attempted to blow up the Tower."

"Someone- what?"

"That's why it's slow. The police has shut down several streets."

"Holy shit."

"I mean, they didn't succeed. Of course they didn't. The Tower isn't fragile by any means."

"Still. Imagine if we'd been there."

"Something tells me they never intended for us to be there. Imagine how quickly we would've kicked their ass. Now we don't even know who to suspect."

Steve rubbed his neck. "Someone could've gotten hurt."

"That's always a daily risk though, isn't it?"

Steve suddenly turned to fully face him. "You could've gotten hurt."

Tony tilted his head. "So could've you."

"Without your suit you're entirely vulnerable."

"So's Barton and Romanoff. Why are you so caught up on this?"

"Because I care about you."

"Steve, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

The atmosphere got tense after that, Steve's eyebrows knitted tightly together as Tony picked up his phone again to make some phone calls. Happy was entirely silent, slowly inching them closer to the Tower, sushi forgotten.

The Tower was still up and standing when they finally reached it, the countless police cars around it being the only indication that something had happened. The others were already there when Steve and Tony got out of the car, and Tony had to spend an excruciating hour speaking to several people before they could venture inside, his good spirits from before long gone.

"They aimed for your workshop," Steve said as they entered their bedroom. "Meaning they knew where you work and were specifically targeting you."

Tony sunk down on the bed, exhausted. "Yes, it seems to be an attack on my person this particular time, but I'm tired of you treating me like something fragile."

"You know I’m not stopping."

"I do, but you know you take things too far sometimes, right?"

"What's so wrong with caring?"

"Nothing's wrong with caring, but as you can see I'm perfectly fine and don't need you to fret over me all night, unless fretting involves something more physical."

Steve didn't even acknowledge his suggestion. "I'm not gonna apologize for worrying."

"Well, then I guess we have a long night ahead of us, don't we?"

Steve huffed, turning around and entering the bathroom as Tony started undressing. He hated going to bed like this, but Steve kept underestimating him, and it was starting to piss him off.

Steve took so long to come out that Tony passed out without him.

4.

"I'm sorry," they said at the same time, Steve having entered the kitchen after his morning run to find Tony nursing his coffee alone. Apparently Tony hadn't been the only one drowning in guilt.

"I know why you worry," Tony continued while Steve shut his mouth in surprise. "Trust me, I do, and I don't blame you. I would do the same if our roles were switched."

"I know I go overboard sometimes," Steve said in return. "I know how annoyed I used to get with Bucky's mothering back in the day. I don't mean to crowd you."

"We're both idiots, aren't we?"

"Maybe a little."

"I usually don't mind, but yesterday was intense and it irritated me that you focused so solely on me."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."

"I just don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Tony held out his hand, and Steve crossed the room quickly. "I hope you never get to find out."

Steve cupped his face, thumbs caressing his cheeks. "I'd kiss you if I didn't stink of sweat right now."

"You know I don't mind you sweaty." Tony wagged his eyebrows.

Steve laughed. "You're ridiculous. Come here."

They locked lips, the kiss lasting longer than it usually would in a public space like the kitchen table, and when Steve finally pulled away Tony was feeling a bit breathless. "How about we go make up in the bedroom? I can pretend to still be angry to build up anticipation."

Steve hummed. "That doesn't sound too bad actually."

"When have I ever had a bad idea?"

"Well-"

"Don't answer that."

They smiled, stupidly giddy as Tony downed the last of his coffee. They were just about to get up when Tony's phone rang.

He grimaced. "It's probably about the explosion. One sec."

Steve took a step back. "You take care of it. I'll go shower."

"I'll join you later."

"You better."

*

Tony did get to join him, but it was cut short and he had to - grumpily - get in a car and drive to the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. Why he was the only one taking care of this was beyond him. And unfair.

They ended up with a list of suspects, none of which Tony had ever heard of before, but he somewhat trusted S.H.I.E.L.D. to know what they were doing, so he took the names and returned to the Tower to discuss it with the others. Get them to pull some of their weight at least.

He accidentally took the elevator to his workshop, his hand having clicked on the wrong button automatically. He paused as the door opened, shrugged, and went to tinker around with something. He probably needed it.

*

"Have you been here this whole time?"

Tony hadn't heard Steve come in, but he heard the somewhat controlled panic in his voice and turned the music down quickly, facing him. "Honey."

"Don't you honey me- shit, I'm sorry."

"Hey, now."

"It's just that you never came back and Fury said you'd left hours ago and since we know someone is targeting you-"

"You got worried. I should've told you I was back. I'm sorry."

Steve deflated, facing the ceiling for a second. "Just- please leave a note or something next time. Or send a text. God, I thought phones would make life easier."

"I didn't mean to even come in here, I promise."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry for worrying you. Again."

"It's okay."

"I know it's not. Come here."

Their night was significantly different from the previous one, and this time Tony felt bad for entirely different reasons.

5.

Tony hadn't expected Steve to hear his pained cry all the way from wherever the hell he'd been chilling in the Tower and come running into the kitchen ready to kill whomever had hurt him. Unfortunately the culprit turned out to be a hot pan that Tony was frying some vegetables in, so it was rather anticlimactic to see the murderous rage roll off of his form so quickly.

Tony held up his hand sheepishly. "I burned myself."

"I can see that."

"No need to worry."

"Of course not." Steve grabbed his wrist gently and steered him to the sink. "Hold this under cold water."

Tony complied. "You know, I think I have enough wits to have thought to do that on my own."

"I don't doubt that."

"But your mama senses were going crazy, huh?"

"Always."

"I feel like I'll trip on a carpet and you'll die of a heart attack."

"Don't trip then."

"I'll try my hardest, love of mine."

Steve rolled his eyes and grabbed the wooden spoon Tony had been using to stir the vegetables before they burned. "Do we need to put something on the burn?"

"Nah, I think it's fine," Tony replied, checking it briefly before putting his finger back under the water. "Some would call me lucky."

"I wouldn't say the amount of danger and trouble you end up in means you're lucky."

"Shh. Let me dream, won't you?"

"You're ridiculous."

"But you love me anyway," Tony said, grinning.

Steve's face softened. "But I love you anyway."

And one time Tony asked him to.

The meeting was cancelled just after Tony stepped out of the shower, much to his dismay. They could at least have called him ten minutes prior when he was still snuggled up in bed and wishing Steve would skip his morning run for once. At least he'd be able to fall back asleep.

He sighed, torn between getting dressed and remaining naked to curl up under the covers. If Steve had been here the choice would've been easy.

Despite the shower, he ended up at the gym - after texting Steve about the cancelation - and took his time to warm up. He suddenly had about three extra hours, after all, and he was planning on making the most of them. A thorough workout was long overdue.

Until he tripped and twisted his fucking ankle like an amateur.

"Shit!" he cried out, landing on his side. His foot started aching immediately, and he grabbed for it, trying to determine the severity of the injury. Definitely twisted, but he reckoned the healing process wouldn't be too long. The swelling would probably bother him for a while, but he'd had way worse injuries.

Still, it didn't stop him from cursing, remaining on the floor for a moment as the shock of the ridiculous fall wore off. How he felt worse tripping in the gym than being knocked out of the sky was almost hilarious.

He tried to heave himself off of the floor, but found it hard since he couldn't support his weight on his right foot. This wasn't good. Like, at all. It was pretty much the exact opposite.

"At least I can fly," he muttered to himself. "JARVIS, is Steve back?"

"Mr Rogers just arrived, sir."

"Has he hit the showers yet?"

"No, sir."

"Tell him to come to the gym. Alone."

Steve had that familiar look of worry on his face when he entered a moment later, but this time Tony reckoned it was justifiable. Tony had practically asked him to worry.

"I tripped," he said sheepishly. "Can't really get up unless I want to make it worse. Help?"

"Of course."

"Feel free to laugh."

"I don't think it's funny."

"At least you have reason to worry now. Apparently I can't even jog without putting myself at risk."

Steve leaned down and grabbed Tony's wrists, hoisting him up gently and easily. "Another activity I won't let you do on your own."

"Ah, a joke. So you think it's a little funny?"

"Shut up. Can you stand?"

"Barely."

"Walk?"

"Let me- ah. No. Not really. Not right now."

"Okay, I'll carry you."

"My knight in shining armor."

"You asked me here."

"I needed my knight."

"I'm just glad you didn't insist on doing this yourself."

Steve carried Tony to the elevator, stopping briefly to grab a first aid kit, before continuing toward their bedroom to take care of Tony's ankle. Tony let him channel his inner nurse without comment, hissing when it hurt and laying as still as possible while Steve worked. He had to admit it felt quite nice to be taken care of, even though he was in pain.

"Thank you," he said when Steve was done. "For always caring about my well being. Even when I find it annoying."

Steve snorted, but Tony could see his eyes softening. "Don't put pressure on this for a few days, okay?" He didn't acknowledge Tony's comment, but Tony knew he appreciated it.

Tony grabbed his hand. "The rest of me is just fine."

Steve hummed and allowed himself to be pulled onto the bed. "Should I do a proper check up to make sure?"

"You know what, Steve? I think that's an excellent idea."

Post J call (19/05) [diary sub.]

�� 4 days of no sleep  has meant  unblocking+subsequently spending a lot of time thinking about or talking to J the past couple days.   but damage done  & now that I know that this man has stopped doing all the things he was supposed to do continue doing once we were completely over; ensuring that he does those things again feels like my responsibility!! 

-SO! An attempt at digesting some of the most jarring things he said since instantaneous reflection/clarity was impossible !! -

“when you first wanted to end things there was no doubt that you’d be coming back out here”

like there’s a pandemic and i have no reason i need to go back to the bay as it’s alll online now ??

“see I’m not even in LA!! I chose not to be for you!!”

We’ve had no contact for months and I had no idea he still mainly lived in Oakland?? So that cannot be put on me?? ALSO literally one of the last things I had said to him was about how at least now he can live in LA & something to the effect of how he should try + actually enjoy the lifestyle now?? LA bitches always made me feel a way & a lot of the LA guys he worked with or just at different events were just a lot???

“How can you act like this is the way its supposed to be with us?? If you just decided that there’s not even a chance anymore than that’s fucked up that you gave me false hope”

WHAT THE FUCK. It’s certainly not healthy to entertain possibility of reconciliation, for plenty of reasons but especially as he’s not risen to the occasion of doing what he needs to do! I didnt leave him high and dry as he has the blueprints, tools, and resources now. Literally last night he was texting acknowledging how we’re both not “whole” and it seemed he got that we must be separate but I guess not?? I didn’t give him false hope???

Damn like I was still balancing my own academic + professional + personal obligations and mental health ?? I will do basically anything for someone I love and as his gf ended up taking on quite a bit . But I was 21/22 w. a rigorous course+research load,demanding job, & my own traumas & mental illness to manage??? I loved tf out of him but I am too young & too shaky myself for the dynamic we had to have been sustainable?? I don’t regret putting him onto therapy+psychiatry & the business/financial resources/techniques but being his buffer for the industry stuff in LA was exhausting & fucked w me. I hate almost everything about LA& I get that he’s more introverted than me + has wild imposter syndrome but he was the one who had a right to be there I’m not even remotely connected to that field and again I despise most of the LA bitches- I’m in my early 20’s obviously I would still have wild self esteem issues etc?? I would literally be crying for a good portion of the drive or flight down there almost every time after the first one. But as he would literally run every single business decision or interaction by me & even once the money started coming + he had validation regarding his skill set, for awhile he still would be  second guessing the creative aspect of it;   and he only really trusts & is out of his shell completely with his Oakland friends, people in LA/anyone he works with he views strictly as clients/collaborators - he wouldn’t go to anything he needed to  in LA if I wouldn’t come with him. Okkk yes he was ode loyal/ attentive to me as well as supportive + invested in my stuff & we really protected/looked out for one another in different ways, so it’s not that he was undeserving.. I just can’t be or do everything for someone!!! I also would not even have chance of being close to happy if I stayed in states now that I am completely disillusioned with medicine ??

“That’s insane that you’ve been able to move on like this that’s so fucking ode [my name redacted]. I bet you were fucking other people when were together”

What. the . fuck. I WAS NOTHING BUT LOYAL WHEN WE WERE TOGETHER AND UNLESS I WAS IN CLASSES OR WORKING WE WERE TOGETHER!! I actually  have never spent so much time with one person (and didn’t even mind it) before or after him. He knows I never cheated on him smfh he hurled this same accusation back in the winter after I started hooking up with someone again. So I don’t really get why he’s even acting like this is brand new information because the inciting incident for me to cut him off completely a few months ago was how he was handling me hooking up with someone. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to tbh??

Also if it wasn’t for pandemic or if he was IN LA as a single man, I’m sure he would’ve ended up with at least someone ?? Yeah he’s not a hookup kinda guy but if he was taking the same drgz  but Im not there than Im sure he’d have plenty of bodies, he’s objectively gorgeous to the point that people are wild confused by his personality & mannerisms.

ALSO we’ve been broken up technically since the fall!! I’ve hooked up with TWO people, which is my prerogative?? I could hookup with a ton of people and it would still be well within my rights as in no way are he and I together ?? It doesn’t mean I don’t care or love him at all but it’s literally mid- May?? I get that he’s mainly upset that the person I most recently was with is the guy from Feb. What I didn’t count on or realize was that I had given J enough info that combined with his naturally sharp memory he’d piece together that the Feb/recent guy is the last person I was in love with before the relationship w J. Once he figured that out he was pressing for more info but I never give out names from situations anyways & I actually had to aggressively ask him if he enjoyed being hurt or something because there’s no reason he needs to fixate on this ??

“this is so fucked up youre not gonna give us a chance to say goodbye for real?? you promised me that it wouldn’t be the last time we saw each other , was this your plan all along ? i can’t believe i really thought you were gonna come back . i’m so fucking stupid. when i heard about schools, even graduations, going online i convinced myself that you still had to come back here or that you’d find a reason. what the fuck rachel! what am i supposed to do?”

Ok he started off yelling (for him) there but once it was just crying i got that his abandonment issues are triggered & that’s definitely valid but he can’t guilt me into coming out to Oakland & based off the past couple days he is not in a place that I can trust myself around. We’d definitely end up fucking & probably doing drgz & there would be no closure we’d just have intense /cinematic experiences that will make separation that much harder AGAIN. We can bring out the best in one another but we also bring out the absolute worst!! We can’t forget the truly fucking horrible parts of our relationship and how out of control it was. Love is not enough!!! The way we loved one another was all consuming & that doesn’t work when there’s soooo much individual healing+ growth that needs to happen.

of course i still love him as well , but i can’t even remind him of that as it’ll then be “so you’ll come back?” fuck like people can love people and know not to be with them!! if i was in a better place maybe i’d think about it; but i’m so far from where I need to be. ofc I miss a lot about him and the relationship but it’s more detrimental than it is beneficial!! it’s not like he didn’t have his grievances too he just doesn’t keep them in perspective in this type of situation . like yeah we coexisted extraordinarily well & never had little arguments over dumb shit/ needed a break from one another; but when we would fight it would be a massive aggressive blowout. ok great we didn’t find one another annoying but also we were respectively v fucking triggered by some deep rooted behavior (i.e our respective parents +trust issues, ptsd and psychosis manifested completely differently; bc of our constant proximity to one another - my BP was on full display multiple times; i accepted he was set on carrying but it was ultimately more like stockpiling ; we both at times did reckless things which made us obsess over the other’s safety [mine mainly in mixed or manic states] ; different attitudes/approaches to drgz) . the codependency was in some lights eventually p unhealthy , especially as eventually down the road itd be impossible to accommodate that degree of attachment to one another!!

ok in some way it’s romantic or w/e that we literally couldn’t be w/o one another at night but also we made it way harder on ourselves when we’d focus on making sure we could be with the other at their obligation instead of our respective responsibilities(i.e me always in LA with him, he ended up coming overseas 3x (EU&Middle East) when I was there for work/conference( for countries he wouldn’t be able to get into he waited at w/e neighboring one would be safe for him),  based his UK work trip around my exams schedule so he could bring me, brought me to PFW, etc. )  even considering taking space at any point was never a real conversation..  we were genuinely best friends but just bounced back from w/e dysfunctional argument we had vs solving it and we’re both mad paranoid people & we need someone to physically be there to feel reassured;on the surface and in actuality in some ways the dynamic was ideal- (regardless tho having someone be your primary safety is hardly fail-safe ).

Both of us are insomniacs & deal w night terrors; but from v. early on we figured out how to handle these things in each other to the point that both of us stopped our respective nighttime vices & could sleep naturally; in the case of night terrors the other person would soothe them back. His overwhelming need to protect found a match with my overwhelming longing for safety even before we knew a ton about one another&the respective back stories. Because of Chantel Miller’s assault case that had gone viral(re:the SU Swimmer case) years before, J was convince su at night was dangerous & always picked me up+ put pepper spray canister in my bag literally a week after we first met. When he learned my history/some of the traumas (mainly nyc r**** & parts i shared re:tr********* abroad) etc he was especially ode about my overall safety. (Tbf he has seen a lot in his life but he mistook my taking risks at times as being completely oblivious when most of the times it was because I had assessed the situation and compared to other experiences and I knew I could handle it; ofc for some of the episodic instances it was way more precarious of a situation. )When it was clear that it wasn’t just some over controlling maneuver, it was just easier to try and listen to him about which areas and times to avoid tbh& spared the details of my ~pickups~. He didn’t need protection in the same way; besides the support/‘protection’ for LA/industry stuff, he needed emotional support/validation, reassurance, and to be nurtured & encouraged.

jealous of the nights (that I don’t spend with you) (wip)

When Yuri is nine, he names his cat Puma Tiger Scorpion. He never regrets it.

In hindsight, that sort of behavior was a neon bright sign of things to come.

“You haven’t spoken to me in three days because you had a dream I liked someone else?” Otabek’s sigh is heavy.

“A nightmare,” Yuri corrects cooly, unsure if his tone should be outraged or Lilia-Pointed-but-Proper.

Yuri’s not one to victim blame, but honestly, Beka should have expected something like this from him.

(pieces of a sequel to every time I try, every time I win that I’m working on)

When Yuri is nine, he names his cat Puma Tiger Scorpion.

A decade later, he stands by the decision.

In hindsight, that sort of behavior was a neon bright sign of things to come.

“You haven’t spoken to me in three days because you had a dream I liked someone else?” Otabek’s sigh is heavy.

“A nightmare,” Yuri corrects cooly, unsure if his tone should be outraged or Lilia-Pointed-but-Proper.

Yuri’s not one to victim blame, but honestly, Beka should have expected something like this from him.

Let’s bring this story back to the start, then the present.

Yuri at seventeen: cheeks flushed by the Russian cold, by the embarrassment that trails him like a shadow whenever Victor hangs off Yuuri, mouth bitten red, first by his own angry teeth as he gnaws down on the vile oaths he wants to hurt at the chests of men who catch Otabek’s attention, and later by Otabek’s own mouth, soothing because of the force, the intensity of kissing Yuri back; golds, silvers, and bronzes pretty collars around his neck when his limbs aren’t out of control.

Yuri at twenty: cheeks flushed from Mila’s prodding about Otabek, a metaphorical battering ram going through his phone and sending selfies to Otabek and hosting a password protected group chat of Katsuki, Victor, and Mila on Yuri’s phone; mouth bitten red because at some point during his tenure with Yakov he learned silence was a viable option but goddamn is it hard, mouth bitten red to match the trail of hickeys under his clothes; golds and silvers, no room for bronze, pretty collars around his neck, swan graceful once again and the apple of Lilia’s eye.

Otabek in the years before, during, and after: Yuri’s.

Unfortunately, it’s Yuri himself who occasionally forgets that fact.

Day Six

The thing is, Mila doesn’t call. Text him vague threats when he first began dating Yuri, speaking not just for her own protective instincts but also the vengeful wrath of the Russian Skating Federation, specifically members coached by Yakov? Absolutely. Tag him across the spectrum of social media accounts he is lovingly bullied to use at least once a month? Constantly. Send him adorable pictures as Yuri cuddles with his cat or breathtakingly lovely images of Yuri, taken as his back creates a graceful arc on the ice? Happily and with pleasure. So when he ends practice to see three missed calls, two voice mails, and a few texts, his heart plummets out of his body, sinking past the changing room floor, to the core of the earth. Yuri. His Yuri. Famed composure abandons him as his fingers shake, thumb pressing the call button. He can’t control his limbs long enough to remove his second skate. The taste of bile might be permanently ingrained on his tongue at this rate, a disgust he will gladly cope with the moment someone reassures him Yuri hasn’t wound up in the hospital or the local jail. He’s not sure which is less plausible.  

God he hopes it’s jail. “Otabek!” Mila’s voice calls him to attention, almost sing-song as it separates the syllables of his name. Immediately, Otabek’s panic mellows, a dull thrum instead of a thumping beat. “Is Yuri okay?” His voice doesn’t waver, but he still can’t manage to stop the nervous twitch of his fingers. “Your boyfriend is being especially bratty,” she declares, and Otabek realizes he’s in for a new hell. Normally, Mila refuses to claim Yuri as one of hers when he’s being a dick, but she sounds happier than past experiences allow. Her voice is musical, teasing, and Otabek understands Yuri can hear them. Faintly, “You hag! Put down your damn phone and check your makeup. The wrinkles are showing!” echoes across the miles between Almaty and St. Petersburg. “See? Such an ugly mood for our Yura,” she croons, and clearly he has become spectator not participant. “HANG UP THE PHONE!” “No!” There’s a crash in the background, more shrieks. Otabek puts the phone on speaker and places it on the locker room bench while he sips his water, grateful to lose the sick taste in his mouth from before. He’s managed to remove his other skate and change his shirt before Mila returns, victorious in abandoning Yuri but simultaneously riling him up with the knowledge Otabek is about to know something. Otabek is glad his relationship with his family does not reflect in the Mila-Yuri dynamic. “Ah, that was fun.” She sounds winded for a professional athlete, but Otabek doesn’t comment, slightly impatient for her to tell him about Yuri now that he’s calmed. “Is Yuri okay?” He starts again. “You tell me.” “I don’t understand.” “Has Yuri been off when you speak?” Mila asks, no longer breathless. Ah. This indeed is something for him to deal with. “What has he done?” “I have a list,” she announces brightly. A brief cough, a hum of her throat follow, and Otabek wonders if there’s something in the water at Yakov’s rink considering his least dramatic student of the past decade was Georgi Popovich. (Yuri is the love of his life, but he thrives on dysfunction to an alarming extent. Otabek understands this and accepts it as best he’s able; it is why they’ve managed to stay together for the past three years.) “To start, he refused to leave practice yesterday. Victor chased him around for nearly twenty minutes until he caught him and dragged him off. Did you see my upload?” “No, but I’ll check when we’re done speaking.” He hopes it isn’t on Instagram. He doesn’t want to deal with the comments from Yuri’s fans.

“It’s on Instagram!”

Naturally.

“Yuri keeps growling at one of our skaters, a boy named Dmitry. We’ve found him crying under a table in the break room four times this week. For some reason, he’s wearing a helmet and runs out of the room whenever Yuri enters. Do you know about that?”

“I forgot you had a Dmitry at your rink,” Otabek replies flatly, memory blank as he tries to recall Yuri ever mentioning a Dmitry.

“Yuri calls him Tiny Bastard if that helps?” Mila offers, and Otabek sighs.

It does. Tragically, it does.

That damn dream.

Sometimes Otabek wonders if he’s become more dramatic since Yuri twirled his way into the center of his universe.

This phone call is all the proof he needs.

“Those pains in the ass are talking about kids!” Yuri shouts across the kitchen, voice somewhat tinny over the speakerphone, hands busy making dinner.

“They’re getting another dog?” Otabek replies, half listening as he reviews the new diet plan suggested for him, nose wrinkling in disappointment in his own kitchen in Almaty.

“I trust them with poodles,” Otabek hears a faint huff and pictures Yuri blowing stray wisps of blond hair out of his face. It brings up a pang of longing and another needless reminder of the long month since their last reunion.

“A human child Beka.”

“You’ll always be my favorite Yura.” It’s an achingly sincere statement.

“That’s not-” A loud exhale. “Thank you, but don’t start with that. I’m the only one who realizes how unhealthy codependency is apparently. I’m worried about what they’d do to a child, not what their child would do to me.”

“I’m confident they wouldn’t send it cowering under a kitchen table in the break room four times a week,” Otabek offers and hums an acknowledgement while Yuri starts cursing Mila’s name. 

Guess who remembered she needs to get back into writing Yuri on Ice if she ever wants to finish soldier boy

For those of you unfamiliar with my past work, Otabek references a fit Yuri threw after having a dream Otabek, his boyfriend and later fiancee, was in love with a Russian skater, one he never even met. From there, an anon begged me to write this.

I felt this would be a better attempt at remembering the voices and characterization than a WIP so well liked but also on such a long hiatus (soldier boy). 

also my friend @dizzytea said the original story is a comfort fic so I thought I’d bring more joy. 

gonna try to have this out this by this time next week, if not sooner if I can keep it under 8k.

Every Exit, An Entrance (7/?)

There are two (and only two) possibilities: either she led XCOM to victory and they are now engaged in a clean up operation of alien forces, or XCOM was overrun, clearing the way for an alien-controlled puppet government to seize control of the planet.

She’d really like to figure out which it is, but asking hardly seems the prudent option.

chapter cw: brief, non-graphic depiction of torture Masterpost of all updates available here

She jumps when the doors to the Situation Room open, startled from her nap by a concerned looking Central Officer. “Did you sleep here?”

“What time is it?”

“0800.”

“Just for the last hour and a half, then. I think I know what’s causing the energy spikes.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“It’s the Fog Pods.”

“What?”

“It’s the Fog Pods. I’m almost sure of it. It’s the only answer that makes sense.”

He lowers himself into a chair. “I’m listening.”

“On a hunch, I looked for missions we’d run in a fifty mile radius of the last recorded spike. What I pulled up was this,” she says, sending the footage to the large screen.

“The attack in Buenos Aires. Wasn’t that the one where Bernard---”

“Yup. And, rewatching the footage,” she says, calling up the incident in question. “This popped out at me.”

She replays the moment. “See the Fog Pod Hershel’s behind?”

“It’s one case, Commander.”

She shakes her head. “It’s bigger than that. I started pulling footage from other areas where we’ve seen spikes: Beijing, Tokyo, Johannesburg, Munich, Berlin, DC. The Fog Pods show up in all of the footage, so we’ve got a confirmed presence. We’ve ruled everything else out. We did our homework; we can rule out almost every other alien tech we’ve encountered. The Fog Pods are the one damn thing we forgot. That I forgot.”

“You didn’t forget. Other things had to take priority.”

“I didn’t even instruct our people to keep track of them!”

“If they’re what’s giving off these energy readings, they’ve kept track of themselves.”

“How did I miss this?”

“Weapons. Armor. Medkits. Live captures. Flight computers. You weren’t exactly leaving the research team idle.”

“But this!” She buries her head in her hands. “I have a Doctorate in Biodefense! This is inexcusable!”

“And we’ve been monitoring environmental data for cities where we’ve had active incursions. It’s been clean. If you’re right, we’ve still got time.”

“But we don’t have a pod.”

“Not even in storage?”

She shakes her head. “I really fucked us up.” She groans. “Time to go beg for the Council’s mercy.”

“Not … like that,” he says, eying her over. “Go get some sleep and come back with a uniform.”

“We don’t ---“

“It’s not going to be a pleasant call. It never is. It’s going only going to be worse if you go into it sleep-deprived.”

Her shoulders droop. “What if I’ve just set us back? What if … what if this is something coming? Some delayed onset weapon?”

“They’re not gonna bring that ship back into existence.”

“But what if they’re a bio agent? Those things take years to counter, and that’s assuming we even can.”

“They haven’t activated.”

“But they could. Our last, best hope is to stop them before they do, and we don’t even have one to pull apart. That’s not even mentioning the potential biohazard we take on bringing it here.”

“I’m not debating you on any of that. But your last call with the Council was … not the most productive. This is going to be contentious at best, hostile at worst. You’re not ready for that on … what, four hours of sleep?”

“Four and a half.”

“Point stands. You’ve got a lead now, which is more than you had last night. Get some rest. I’ll make the call and get things set.”

“I’m not winning this argument, am I?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Alright then,” she says, standing. “I surrender.”

“Commander?”

“Yeah?” She asks, halfway through pulling the sweater over her head.

“Isn’t that my shirt?”

“It was.”

He chuckles. “Looks better on you anyway.”

She winks at him. “See you in a few hours.”

“Maybe in your own uniform?”

“Might raise questions if I showed up in yours. Would have to skip the pants.”

She takes no small delight in the flush blooming under his collar.

-- It’s a quiet few days. When she sleeps, she dreams of happier times.

Well, happier possibilities, if she’s being accurate.

They’re not bad dreams, but they leave an ache in her chest when every time she wakes up.  At least in dreams, the aliens lost. At least in dreams, she can call her mom. At least in dreams, she can see the people who had become her dearest friends.

At least in dreams, Central is talking to her.

She tries to focus on the good. She’s really gotten a feel for the dynamics at play among the crew. She knows that Kelly is the one who has Central’s ear, and it’s Wallace and Royston who have Kelly’s. Thomas’s mouth likes to write cheques his performances can’t cash, whether it’s on the range or in the underbrush, but it never seems to dull his enthusiasm. Krieger and Gunda are already a matched set, an optimist and a pessimist united by a desire to take a little blood in the name of all that’s been spilled. Moon and Zaytsev are the jokesters, always the guilty ones when a prank’s afoot. Shen has an almost masterful control over her engineers, while Tygan struggles to keep his scientists in line. Dysfunctional as it is, they have formed their own little ersatz family, and adopted her right along into it.

Then there are the more nuanced factors, the things she can’t quite put her finger on. Royston and Central are at each other’s throats more often than not, but that’s not the whole picture. It doesn’t explain how he makes sure she eats dinner no matter what’s transpired earlier in the day, or the swing she takes at Thomas after he’s thrown around one too many jokes about liver failure. It certainly doesn’t explain the ice he’d brought her, reprimand free, after he’d needed to break up the ensuing scuffle or the sight she’d caught of them in the bar, his head in his arms, and Sally next to him, beer bottle in hand, with a look of worry on her face.

People have always been, and will always be, complex. Alien invaders don’t change human nature.

“Commander,” Tygan calls over the comm. “When you have a moment, I think you’ll want to see this.”

“On my way.”

During their last op, they’d managed to pull a large cache of data off of the ADVENT network. Tygan’s team had been busy perfecting the program to decode it, and had evidently made some progress.

“Commander,” he says, as she descends into the lab.

“Doctor. What have you got for me?”

He gives her a brief rundown of their findings, news on supply and troop movements to some off the beaten path facility. They’re sure it’s important, but they can’t begin to fathom its purpose; perhaps they should devote resources towards learning more about it?

She nods. “I’ll do what I can.” “There’s also the … other matter of what we found.”

Tygan presses a datapad into her hands. “Okay?” She asks, uncertain.

“There are files pertaining to your … captivity with ADVENT. Once the team realized what they were … I didn’t feel it was our place to look. They’ve been localized on the datapad as a means of keeping them off the XCOM network, given their … personal nature.”

She bites her lip. “I appreciate the discretion, Doctor. Thanks.”

“Our work on their encryption has also led us to some potential new ideas on how to handle long distance communication. With your permission, we’d like to pursue it.”

“Of course,” she nods. “My thanks to your team.”

The walk back to her quarters feels like a dream. She doesn’t like to isolate herself, but she’s not prepared to view whatever contents they’ve recovered with an audience.  The men need to believe she’s here and whole, and that means not letting them see when goes to pieces --- as she suspects she’s about to.

She remembers more of her captivity than she likes to think about. In the week and a half she’s been out of the tank, it’s come back to her more vibrantly than she would like. She’s learned to ignore it, to tamp down the flashes, the little things. The crew keeps her busy and she’s eternally thankful to them for it.

When she’d first come to in the holding cell, stripped to her underwear and a hospital gown, it was terror. Overwhelming terror. No gun, no knife, and the only visible exit without any kind of opening mechanism.

XCOM was gone. She’d known it in her bones. Her best hope was that someone had managed to escape, to warn the Council, and that the rest had died without suffering. She’d hoped Royston and Martin got a chance to say the words they very obviously needed to, and that Molchetti and Hershel hadn’t seen one another’s fate.

And Central. John. She remembered tearing up. She wasn’t religious, but she’d offered prayers up to whatever might be out there that it had been quick, and that it hadn’t been one of their own who’d done him in.

She should have told him. She should have said something. Should have should have should have. Too late.

From there, it had only gotten worse.

She remembers the sick horror that had filled her at the site of cells identical to hers, opaque black, but still clearly occupied. Not him, not him, not him, she’d prayed. Not like this not here not him.

The first file on the datapad is a prisoner profile. It lists her name, her date of birth, her identifying characteristics, degree of psionic potential, everything you’d need at a glance. Scanning through, there’s notes about her resistance to psionic interrogation, a talent for resisting mind control attempts.

Extreme will, potentially useful for our purposes, the document reads. Will need to rely on more direct interrogation methods.

She’s not sure if she wants to laugh or vomit.

May be useful in locating additional assets.

Although, drinking herself numb is starting to sound like a better solution.

Subject shows particular concern for John Bradford. Intel indicates XCOM second-in-command. May be useful asset in securing subject’s cooperation or as complement.

You don’t have to do this, she tells herself. You don’t have to go through this at all. Put the datapad down You don’t have to relive this.

Except she does.

The next file is a video. It’s strange to see herself on the table, the device she’d come to hate so ferociously already prepped for intrusion.

“There’s no need to make this hard on yourself, Commander,” the Ethereal purrs.

 “Go to hell,” she spits, voice already raw from screaming,

 “We’re willing to accommodate your ... needs.”

 “Leave him alone.”

“It would make your integration much more efficient. You’ve already developed an admirable system for coworking. Your relationship is well-established.”

“I’d just as soon do us both in.” “Very well, if you’re going to be this difficult.”

A leering Thin Man flips a switch and she screams as the device punctures her cranial cavity.

She sets the datapad down, and presses a finger against the gnarled scar at the base of her skull. Brute force was too delicate a term to describe the process. Yes, she could fight psionic interrogation, but direct stimulation of the neural pathways was a considerably different matter.

The final file is a list of high value assets. Devorah Hershel. Isabella Molchetti. Edouard Martin. John Bradford.

God, she’d kill for a drink. Then again, with her luck, Central would be in the bar, make one wrong comment, and she’d haul off and hit him anyway., assurances to Shen and Tygan be damned. Wouldn’t that just be the fucking cherry on her day?

Wait a second.

Her eyes dart from the datapad to the door and back again. You’re an idiot, she thinks. Central is the person who needs to see this the most. This might be the only thing that gets him to talk to you.

She takes a deep breath, and tries to settle the nausea in her stomach. She’ll need to execute this carefully.

“Sally,” she says, pressing her finger to her comm. “Can I see you in my quarters when you have a moment?”

“On my way!”

The knock on the door comes faster than she was expecting, but she ushers the younger Royston in quickly.

“I have an … unpleasant favor to ask you.”

“Alright, what is it?”

She hands the girl the datapad. “I need you to take this to Central, and I need you to make sure he goes through it.”

Sally cocks her head. “Can I ask why?”

“It’s not locked,” she says, offering the girl a pointed look.

Sally furrows her brow, then nods slowly as the implication dawns on her.

“You got it, ma’am. I’ll make it happen.”

She sends the girl on her way, then collapses onto the bed, burying her face into the pillows. God, she needs a nap.

Growing Up Godly:

A few months after my seventeenth birthday I made a video for my parents. I mostly made it for my mom because I didn't think my Dad would really react to it. I used all the pictures from their honeymoon and wedding. I layered it with emotional transitions and movement affects. I used all my moms favorite songs from her youth. My mom love 70's music. I think even today 70's music isn't dead in New Orleans yet. It's 2017. I think New Orleans was just really good in the 70's and 80's so it stayed there, stuck in time for awhile. It's just starting to change in great ways but for me and my family the older stuff represents a nostalgia that is linked to every great time we've had as a family. And those songs have been present through the generations, linking all our great memories to great memories that half of us weren't even present for. When my mom watched it she teared up. I get a lot of pleasure out of sharing things with people that make them happy. I felt fulfilled that I had done something nice for my mom. Seventeen year-old me was still very devoted to pleasing my mother. I wasn't gay yet, I worked 60 hours a week. I ran my parents restaurant with them in an experienced, efficient way to make my parents proud of the little martyr that had forgone all worldly experiences to become a man far sooner than most seventeen year olds. Still, the cold nature of my parents inspired me to keep pleasing and fighting for their affection because it was so fleeting. My slideshow was a successful anniversary gift for my parents. Having turned to extreme forms of Protestantism when I was twelve, my parents had verbally shunned their worldly past and only allowed things that were deemed "godly" into their lives. Reformed Baptists, they called themselves. For my mom the exception to the rule was 70's music. Sometimes on Saturday's when the restaurant was closed we'd run errands and she'd sing and dance to her old tunes. I loved when she'd do that because I could connect with her in those moments. They made her human. My parents always stuck out in their inner circles. Their church friends were often not from Louisiana and slightly more refined. I'm proud to say my parents were a little more gritty than their friends. They were very real people who spent their lives trying not to be. Both raised in the city streets of New Orleans by Catholic immigrant families, they were emotional, driven and partiers by nature. The accumulation of Cajun French, Sicilian, and Irish blood made up a very dramatic and broken family dynamic in our house. But no one ever really knew about it. We'd go to church and sit up straight and speak the appropriate religious verbiage when engaging. At home we fought and screamed and broke things when life got stressful. We'd cry and curse each other out and then piss ourselves laughing half way through because we knew we were ridiculous. Growing up this confused me but I appreciate it now. My parents still pretend though. I think they'll always have to to be happy. I'll always know who they really are, though. And even though they may be ashamed I'll always love how broken and interesting it is to be part of a dirty immigrant family who originated from St Bernard Parish and the Irish Channel. I don't think any of our origins are "Godly." And I don't think godliness comes from acting on things that can be labeled as worldly or otherwise. I'd have to say godliness is a state of the heart. It's deeper and more automatic. Like your heart and lungs. The rest is just who you are. My mom, having been moved by my gift, wanted to show it to everyone. At church the following Sunday she insisted that I pull out my laptop and show all her church friends. This made me feel ten feet tall because moments where my mom bragged on me were rare. It was a good day. My mom sat directly infront of the screen even though she normally would move and allow others to enjoy. This body language told me she was proud of the gift. Her southern baptist friends watched with stone cold faces as the secular 70's music wove a tale from the past about two people quietly in love. I felt the tension build and began to sweat. I love my mother but I knew the peer pressure was more than she could withstand. Turn on the social heat and my mother can sometimes forget she even has children to protect from the cruel world. Her friends, out of politeness, watched, but into the second song of the slideshow I could see my moms Stoney expression. Her face was red and I saw embarrassment in her eyes. Thinking back I get so sad because I hate to see anyone feeling uncomfortable or embarrassed. At the time all I felt was anger because I knew what was coming. My mom frowned and I was ready to fight. I get angry when I'm hurt. I think that's the case for most of us even if we can't say it. Sometimes I wonder how easy all of our relationships would be if we were willing to be honest when we were angry and just say "I'm hurt that you did or said this." I watched as my mom grimaced and then she asked in the most condescending way possible "Where did you get this music?" She asked this as if I had gotten an old Natalie Cole album from a drug dealer who was trying to expose me to the sins of the world. This was literally the music that had played in all my families restaurants since I was born so I was angered by her fake innocence. Of course me being her child I reacted -fueled by my Sicilian passion and my Irish temper. If she was going to throw me under the bus I was going to embarrass her. This was our relationship; a constant pissing match. Needy and dysfunctional. My reply was nonchalant but only she knew what I was doing. "Oh, this is just what I listen to all the time on my iPod." She may wanted to be viewed as the embodiment of what mainstream conservative reformers defined as motherhood but I was going be damned sure that everyone knew I was the dirty teenager that listened to non Christian music on an iPod unsupervised. She sarcastically rolled her eyes and said "oh, well that's nice." as she shut the laptop and changed the conversation. It was in this moment that I experienced a fury so powerful in my chest that I had to go to the bathroom as I fantasized about burning the building down. I was so angry. The truth is I was devastated and extremely hurt but emotional regulation and being in touch with your feelings isn't something we were raised with. Looking back now it's funny to me. I love my mom, she's funny and broken like everyone else. I don't blame her for how she handled that. I know how susceptible she is to the pressure of her version of society. She's a conformer to her own social subculture even if she thinks her lifestyle is her being bold and brave. She is who she is and I love almost everything about her. Remembering this story got me thinking about how so many children of the extremely religious end up leaving their parents faith for awhile. I've seen kid after kid break their parents hearts. I was one of those kids. And while leaving was the best thing I could have done for my relationship with myself and with my parents, I sometimes wonder how different the transition from dependent teenager to independent adult would be if a parent placed a higher value on the relationship with their child than on the lifestyle choices the child adheres to. Many kids leave and make themselves new only to return to the original lifestyle but with more healthy relationship habits. Some leave and the bond between parent and child is broken for good. I notice this more in extreme fundamentalist families. Also the rate of personality disorders, addiction and impulse control problems is rampant in fundamentalist children. Why is this? What makes the difference between a kid leaving his or her parents religion but growing/ figuring themselves out and a child leaving and falling apart. I sometimes think this has to do with bonding. As human beings we all have an innate need to bond. It's said that if we can't bond with the people around us, we'll bond with something less savory. I think back to my parents and what they valued. Not what they said they valued but what they actually priced with high worth. It's wasn't relationships. It wasn't kindness or humility. It wasn't their children. It was their lifestyle. All the checks and balances that were proof of their security from whatever in their past haunted them. It wasn't morality. It was things that represented a predefined and structured replacement of values. It doesn't require heart, just commitment and a lot of pride. This was why it was it was so easy for my mom to humiliate me in front of her church friends. She placed a much higher value on the lifestyle she had adhered to than she had placed on me as her child or her relationship with me. I think kids leave their religious roots when they know deep down inside that their parents faith isn't real. That their love for them wasn't real, or best very selfish and needy. It's a narcissistic thing for parents to require a growing adult to meet their egos needs in order to be loved and excepted. When people ask me if I'm bitter or resentful of my parent for prioritizing my heart last on their list or not supporting me because I'm gay. My stock answer is no because I don't want people to know that I, like everyone else, am slightly broken and a little messed up in my own way. But the truth is nobody goes through life untouched and it's important to share these things because they may help someone else. The truth is, it is possible to be healthy and move on and forgive all while still being a little angry or sad. I wouldn't expect my parents to change their beliefs for me because I wouldn't want them to expect the same of me. I value their independence and what they have done for themselves and who they are. I also value these same things in myself. And because of that I hold people accountable for how they treat the people around them, including myself. Growing godly taught me one thing. It taught me about false morality. It taught me to judge and be arrogant and I could be bitter about that if I wanted to. But I'm not. I'm not because growing up godly gave me a perfect representation of how easy it is to throw people aside and what pain can come of living in a bubble of your own arrogance and lack of empathy. In a way, I'm now hypersensitive to to the needs of others and wrestle with flaws in my character rather than flaws in my lifestyle. I don't remember anyone I went to church with caring about their character or their heart as much as they cared about gay guys getting married or women daring to speak up for their rights. I think the way I grew up was labeled as godly but actually the farthest thing from godly. I think I want to raise my kids to be godly. To love the hurting, feed the hungry, and defend the marginalized. I think I want to be godly in that way. To love without expectations or requirements. To know what I believe and who I am but not be so insecure and unsure that I have to belittle or shake my head at someone who isn't just like me. I'd like to teach my kids to love even those who don't agree and to not require compliance with their ideas in order to embrace and support people. That seems like a godly endeavor to me.

A T1D Love Story

I’ll never forget the moment Ryan tested my blood sugar for the first time. It was early in our relationship; early enough that my stomach still did backflips whenever he called or texted; so early that I still checked my teeth for food any time he left the room. In fact, our relationship was new enough that — had he been anyone else — I would not have yet shared the news that I have Type 1 diabetes.

The first time happened unexpectedly. It was a dreary Sunday evening, and we were curled on my couch watching a movie, though neither of us was truly paying attention. Instead, we were monitoring every movement, breath, and word; exhilarated to be dating someone new, yet terrified our next bad joke or poorly-timed sneeze might mess the whole thing up. As I risked a shift in positioning, Ryan slipped his hand softly into my own, cradling it affectionately as I adjusted the blankets. Of course, we both pretended the moment was benign, though my racing heart was eager to give me away.

Filled with adrenaline, I dared a glance in his direction. His features were still so new to me that, with each date, I noted with interest a quality I had not yet discovered. For example, the way he smiled from the right side of his mouth, his perfect cupid’s bow, or the way his eyes could go from deep brown to striking chartreuse in the sunlight. As I secretly studied him, I could not help but wonder if we were perhaps — just maybe — falling in love.

As if roused by the L-word, the steady drum in my chest was joined by a fervent pulse in my wrists. I adjusted my hand, worried that Ryan could feel the thumping through our entwined fingers, only to realize my palms were slightly damp. In response, Ryan turned and locked his perpetually smiling eyes into mine. My face was suddenly hot.

“Samantha, I think … ” he began to say. The room felt like it was spinning. Was he about to speak the thought lingering on my mind?

Something, however, was not right. His tone was serious, and his mouth was slowly curling into a frown, and what came next was not quite what I was expecting.

“… I think your blood sugar might be low.”

It took a few seconds for me to reconcile his words, and as the lightbulbs went off, Ryan took the lead. He fished my test kit from the depths of my oversized purse, placed a strip into the meter, and in one swift movement, squeezed a fresh drop of blood from the tip of my ring finger. It was as if he had been doing the procedure his entire life. Which, as it so happens, he nearly had. At just 3-years-old, Ryan was also diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes; one year before I was born, two years before my own diagnosis, and almost 27 years before we would finally meet.

Though I was, indeed, hypoglycemic, and the room was still spinning, and Ryan was preoccupied with forcing glucose tablets into my sweaty hands, I realized that, yes, we were most certainly falling in love. And as my cherished “diaboyfriend,” Ryan has been redefining and expanding the meaning of that love every day since we first met.

There are some obvious perks that come from T1D coupledom. For example, if I run out of test strips when we’re out to dinner, I can just borrow Ryan’s glucose meter instead. When you’re both type one, there is no need to worry about empty insulin vials during a weekend getaway because the backup supplies are always doubled.

Yet other advantages are subtler. For instance, I never have to apologize for a hyperglycemic mood swing. (Okay, maybe not never, but at least I get more empathy than I otherwise would.) Having another honed radar constantly scanning for unusual symptoms also gives me a sense of safety I have not had since moving out of my parent’s house. There have been numerous occasions when Ryan has bolted awake and into action after I failed to hear a critical low blood sugar alert, and no matter how few hours remain before sunrise, he always stays awake with me until my levels stabilize. While we may not get much sleep between the two of us with multiple insulin pumps and CGMs always vying for attention, there is a wonderful sense of normalcy that comes from sharing these uniquely T1D experiences with your significant other.

The most wonderful part about being with Ryan is not the extra test strips, however; rather, it is the powerful lessons I have learned about what it means to love someone with a chronic disease, including myself. Before Ryan, I believed that my T1D was something a partner must learn to overlook like a character flaw or shameful secret. I felt that I would be lucky to find someone, anyone, tolerant enough to bear the enormous burden of blood and needles that came with my less-than-ideal package. Though I never consciously admitted to holding these beliefs until now, I certainly acted on them.

For many years, I dated people who were — to put it nicely — less-than-ideal themselves. I justified their cheating, lying, or emotional immaturity with the belief that if they were big enough to accept my T1D, I had no choice but to accept their subpar treatment in return. Yet even in my most tumultuous relationships, the other person was never entirely to blame for our dysfunctional dynamics. From the outset, I had presented to them a false sense of who I was; minimizing the significance of my T1D, making invisible the most difficult parts, distracting them with how smart or funny I could be in the hopes that — just maybe — they would forget about my diabetes and accidentally love me.

Consequently, there are moments from my dating history that I’m not proud of. They surface sometimes when Ryan is most attentive, loving, and accepting, as if trying to make the point, “Remember how things used to be?” Like a memory from my sophomore year of college, when I found myself fortuitously alone with my longtime crush. Terrified the discovery of my disease would disrupt whatever might come next, I politely dismissed myself to the bathroom, where I numbly unclipped my insulin pump, ripped out my inset, scrubbed the residual glue from my belly with a tissue and hand soap, and threw the evidence into my purse without a second glance.

When I juxtapose a memory like this one with the newer ones, the better ones, I realize all the ways that hiding my T1D dulled my earlier experiences of dating, and compromised my chances of finding true love. The jubilation of a first kiss was always tempered by the fear that their next move would expose the insulin pump clipped to my waistline. The excitement of a sleepover was always modulated by the panic that I might have a low blood sugar in my sleep. I hardly had time to worry about bad jokes or food in my teeth because all my energy was consumed by projecting a false image of my body and identity.

And then came Ryan; a man who loves when I wear my Dexcom on one arm and Omnipod on the other, throws Starbursts and juice boxes into my bag when I’m not looking (just-in-case), kisses the bruises and scars on my belly from my pump sites, and monitors my CGM in my sleep even if no alarms have sounded. It might seem reasonable to conclude that Ryan only cares for me in these ways because he has T1D himself, and therefore understands the value and meaning of these deeds in my life. The truth, though, is that he would make these sacrifices and gestures even without the experience of living with an incurable disease.

It is in Ryan’s nature to be loving, supportive, patient, devoted, thoughtful, understanding, and giving toward the people he loves. These important qualities, I realize now, are the ones I should have sought in a partner all along. They are also all the characteristics that any person with type 1 diabetes deserves from any person they decide to date, T1D or not, no matter how enduring or short-lived the relationship might be. Though sometimes I wish I had allowed myself to be cared for and loved in these essential ways sooner, perhaps this hard-learned lesson was always meant to be taught to me by Ryan — and no one else.

This story originally appeared on Beyond Type 1.org.