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#told my coworkers that I was home by myself and my siblings at the age of 6
briarsrose · 8 months
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What is wrong with letting your kids be latchkey keys genuinely
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thewildsophia · 8 months
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OK KO, Let's be Heroes!//KO x Older Sibling!Reader
A/N: I can't believe this hasn't been written before omg. I had the thought of an older sibling reader to KO rolling around in my head while watching the series and was shocked to find no fanfics with the premise. So I did it myself.
NOTE: The Reader's powers are basically Portgas D. Ace's from One Piece. If you aren't familiar, I've attached a few gifs to give you an idea of what it's like.
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Word Count: 2026
"Read More Link" placed due to length.
So I can’t think of a realistic way for Reader to be a biological older sibling to KO considering the timeline of what happened.
Soooooooo…You took on the role of KO’s older sibling, even though you’re not related by blood.
[Insert tragic backstory here] and Carol had found you when you were a young teenager wandering about without a home to go to. When she found that out about you, she couldn’t in good conscience leave you alone, so she…adopted you basically. There wasn’t any paperwork involved so you just unofficially become her second child.
Carol was SHOOK when she found out about your superpower (and that’s putting it lightly, she was freaking out--).
It happened when she failed to light the fire underneath her stove a few days after you came to live with her and KO. Not thinking much about it, you held your finger up and lit the fire yourself. When she turned and saw the small fire burning on the tip of your finger she freaked tf out thinking you were hurt. 
A one-hour explanation later, she was now on board as to what power you have: You’re made out of fire and can set other things on fire just by looking at them. You even showed her some of your moves the next day faaaaar away from anything flammable. 
Carol encouraged you to become a hero and with her help you eventually did. You became a decently high-ranking hero at a young age, clocking in at level 6. 
There were a LOT of companies trying and failing to recruit you, but you chose to stay home with Carol and KO (no Carol is NOT crying-).
KO was quite young when you were “adopted,” being around 3 or 4 at the time. Because of that, he always assumed that you were his older sibling by blood and it wasn’t until one day between ages 6 to 11 that Carol told him the truth.
My boy was shocked, but it didn’t change anything between your dynamic. 
In fact, you became even more of an inspiration to him on his path to becoming a hero!
You helped Carol a lot at the fitness dojo until Carol got KO a job at Gar’s, to which Carol also had you hired to keep an eye on KO. Not that she didn’t trust him, she just knew that he could get in over his head sometimes and wanted to have someone be there to protect him. 
Talking about Gar’s, Rad and Enid absolutely ADORE you. You’re the unofficial manager appointed by them truly because you are a few levels higher than them. 
At first, when they heard they were getting two new coworkers, they didn’t think much of it. You and KO seemed nice enough so they didn’t mind having you around. 
It’s not until the Darell robot for the day comes busting into the plaza that their opinion changes. 
Just ask KO is about to get absolutely decked by Darell, you zoomed onto the scene in a blaze of fire and punched the bot, setting it on fire while also hitting it with enough force to send it back to Boxmore with KO nestled into your other arm. 
“Nobody ever touched my little brother.” You muttered under your breath while wrapping KO into your arms further to soothe him. You walk past a stunned Rad and Enid as you enter the store and get back to work.
That day, Rad and Enid also became your younger siblings. Pestering you with questions like “How did you get so strong?” and “Where did you get that power from?” Considering you’re a year or two older and much stronger you embraced the title with honor.
You actually became a little bit of a local celebrity after working at Gar’s for a while. People, locals really, would occasionally come in a ask to take a picture with you. Abashed, you said yes every time because you really couldn’t say no. Real Magic Skeleton even has a picture of you on his site with a small bio (You blushed so hard when you found out you thought you were gonna explode).
Speaking of which, KO LOVES to flaunt you around and hype you up, much to your embarrassment. He says stuff like, “Look at my cool amazingly strong older sibling!” and “My older sibling could beat up your older sibling!” 
KO means well, but he embarrasses the shit out of you.
MAD PROTECTIVE. If Carol is protective then you are on another level entirely. If someone even says something mean about KO it’s on sight. People learned very quickly that you are KO’s older sibling and that you will not hesitate to DIE to protect him (KO prays that it never comes to that).
I could see a rude customer coming in and harassing KO about Cob knows what and you just come up behind them and punch them out of the store. When Mr. Gar confronted you about it, you held your ground and stated proudly what you had done. He was honestly surprised at your resolve and didn’t punish you at all, saying “You should stick up for yourself and the ones you love.”
Lord Boxman even became a little weary about attacking the plaza knowing that you worked there and you are a pretty strong defender. That doesn’t stop him, of course, but he does strategize to combat you better.
Professor Venomous encourages Boxman to capture you and “convert” you to villainy since your power is something that could be very useful to them. You’ve heard people throughout your life make comments about how “villainous” your power is, but you never let it get to your head since you know who you are and that’s all that matters. 
Taking. Naps. Together. Seriously, if KO ever doses off during one of his shifts, you’re quick to follow him. You’ll scoop him up into your arms and sit down somewhere in the corner and fall asleep with him. Rad and Enid think it’s absolutely adorable and have several pictures of you two.
Rad and Enid will even join your cuddle pile in the break room when time permits (or when they make the time themselves).
KO will even occasionally crawl into your bed at home and sleep with you there. He says that your bed is more comfortable than his, but you really know he gets lonely sometimes.
Piggyback rides! KO loves to lounge on your shoulders and back and will often hang off of you as he does with Rad. 
You’re also just used to the feeling of holding/carrying KO that it sometimes feels weird when you haven’t for a while.
When you met TKO for the first time you kinda panicked like many of the other plaza members. It was an especially stressful time in your life (and probably much more for Carol).
TKO wasn’t that fond of you either which made everything 10x harder to deal with. He didn’t actively dislike you, it was more like he wanted nothing to do with you.
Once KO came out of that initial swap between himself and TKO, you didn’t really think much about it. 
When he mentioned some “Shadowy Figure” though you immediately began to do as much research as you could on the guy, you were determined to beat the crap out of this guy (if not kill him-).
Listening to KO cry into your and Carol’s arms blabbering about, “I’m so sorry!” and “I don’t know what he did to me!” You honestly thought this man had touched KO (I know I’m not the only one…right??). It took a lot of coaxing, but you eventually managed to understand what happened when KO told you the full story.
It’s not until Dendy begins to monitor KO and TKO that you start to give his alter much thought. You encourage KO to pursue research into his darker ego, assuming he’s okay with it of course, and offer to be someone he can talk to about it if he isn’t comfortable talking to anyone else about it. 
During some of these talks, you open up about yourself a bit to KO to make him feel better and let him know that the negative emotions he feels are normal. 
During some of the more intimate conversations, you tell him how you used to hurt people and even kill at times before Carol took you in.
KO doesn’t believe you at first. How could someone so kind and loving have killed in their life? You use that to help you explain that good people do bad things sometimes, but that doesn’t make them a bad person. 
You teach him that TKO isn’t something that he should be ashamed of and cage up in the back of his mind, but could instead be someone to rely on in times of need.
He feels a lot better after you tell him all of this.
Hugging and holding KO close to you during nights when he feels really bad about himself. Where he doubts his ability to become a good hero and to be able to harness TKO’s powers. 
You’d rock him back in forth in his bed while quietly soothing him over his crying. He asked you not to tell Mommy and you promised him that he had your word.
I could honestly see Reader lying to cover up KO’s tracks. Like KO is caught doing something he absolutely should not be doing and instead of immediately admitting fault, you would come up with some realistic yet unfeasible lie that only works about 50% of the time.
KO loves to spar with you! He learned most of his physical skills from you, stuff like punching, jumping, kicking, and all that fun stuff. You’ve never used your fire powers against him though.
There was one incident where Boxmore accidentally found out what your weakness is, that being water. A Shannon bot had thrown you into the little kiddie pool Rad and Enid had set up before the attack started.
When you jumped out of the pool soaking wet and unable to start a fire, the stupid sibling trio laughed and mocked you. Enid was quick to come in with a kick to Raymond’s head and you soon found your footing.
Boxmore learned that day not to underestimate you as even without your powers you’re still a physically strong hero.
However, it would seem that Boxman and Professor Venomous stored that data about you since some of the bots they send are equipped with water guns. You’ve gotten pretty good at dodging them, so that’s kinda cool.
You do remember one time after KO had gotten a handle over TKO where you had been drenched with a bucket of water and right as you were about to get socked by Raymond, KO had pushed you out of the way and dodged the punch himself.
You had never been more proud of KO than in that moment and you made that known to him after the fight. You ran up to him and cradled him in your arms talking about how proud you were and that he was becoming such a fine hero (that last one got him to blush a little).
Rad and Enid definitely took a picture of this and then proceeded to print out a copy and put it in the break room.
When you and KO found out that your mom was dating Mr. Gar, you both were a little unsure about how you felt. When Rad and Enid asked about it, they asked the two of you together and then asked you separately. 
Seeing as you’re the older sibling they thought that you would have had a better idea of how you feel about the whole arrangement and were bummed out when they realized that you really didn’t know how you felt. 
After the date you four hosted for Carol and Mr. Gar, both you and KO see how happy Mr. Gar makes your mom and decide that if she’s happy then you’re happy as well.
KO is honestly one of the best younger brothers you could ever ask for. He’s kind and selfless and wants to help others when he can. And in return, you are the best older sibling that KO could ever ask for.
Sorry the format looks off in some places, Tumblr just makes booty juice decisions like limiting the character limit per block to 4096 words...
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My dad, Tony
My dad passed away 13 years ago.
An accidental overdose that got chalked up to a suicide.
My parents had me young, then my sister and brother within 3 years. Kids raising kids.
They divorced when I was around 5, it was messy, a lot of toxicity and not being able to co-parent. I don’t blame either one, it was just what happened.
I developed a strong bond with my dad, I wasn’t his first choice to be honest. He was a boys dad at heart, I just happened to be the oldest and understood what was happening.
My siblings and I weren’t spared from the ugly process of custody. When I was 12 I decided to be legally placed with my dad. My siblings stayed with my mom.
My mom met someone and eventually moved across the country, with my siblings. My dad met someone too. He remarried, my stepmom had two sons around my age. Looking back I can’t imagine what it would be like for him to be in his 20’s with 5 kids. I wish I cut him more slack.
Things were rough, I slowly realized my dad didn’t have a grip on things. He lost his dad a few months before my siblings moved and he tanked slowly. Lost his business, started working at a construction company.
I remember him telling me his coworkers were all junkies, he seemed shocked and disgusted, I realized eventually he was shocked with himself too.
I noticed my dad changing, he was trying but slipping he felt he failed as a father, he felt oppressed by life.
One day on a long drive home from school he pulled over, looked me in my eyes, and told me these words “ Kelsie baby, I need to tell you something.. I have a bad monkey on my back and I don’t know what to do”.
We were arguing that day because he got his tongue pierced for fun and I thought it was stupid. I grew up in a town where if you did something dumb or reckless it wound up in the newspaper the next day. I was tired of that pressure, I wanted to be normal. I didn’t realize he was just trying to feel something, to feel anything at all in the boredom of the mundane.
I asked what he meant, he didn’t know how to tell me but I put it together a week later when I went searching for gum in the car and found a spoon and needle instead.
He told me he wouldn’t be like the rest, he could quit. He would definitely quit if his teeth started to be fucked up, if it messed with his looks. The night he told me that I watched him pick holes in his skin like worms were crawling under it.. fixated on his fixations.
We shared a ratty blanket, I still have it. We shared hotel rooms, we shared sleep paralysis (genetics) we shared an infatuation with space / aliens / and psychology.
He hid it well, he fought hard and when time skipped forward a couple of even harder years and many broken promises of sobriety I thought that I was teaching him a lesson by skipping town for a summer to visit my siblings.
I never knew it would be the last time I saw him. He was angry too and didn’t respond to my calls. I decided to stay for the school year, I would occasionally ask a friend to check on him, or deliver my message that I loved him and was sorry.
On October 9, 2009 at 10 am in my chemistry class I wept thinking about his funeral, how he wanted free bird to play and for everyone to drink and tell their craziest story of him. I was angry I had given up on him, angry I left him alone.
I later found out my dad passed away sometime in the early hours that morning. Waiting for my stepmom to return after a fight they had.
I never knew I would be able to tell this story in such a short and chalked up way. To be so precise about only a portion of something so much bigger. It used to feel impossible to tell the whole story, maybe I just needed to start with this part.
My dad was more than this story, he was a young dad, a hard worker, he was smart.
He offered homeless people jobs, never judged anyone, taught me the golden rule, but also how to defend myself.
He loved Metallica, Old School Rap, the anarchist lifestyle, gummy worms, Dr. Pepper, pumpkin seeds and jamming out with a drink in hand. He was good at impersonations and always had a joke up his sleeve.
He let us keep stray dogs as pets, he helped me nurse injured birds I brought home when I was little, he hated hunting for sport, and he probably would have had a farm if he had the time and could afford it.
He hated corrupt politics and injustice, he hated people who bullied others, he never took himself seriously, but he was confident in who he was. He always had perfect hair, he took pride in his looks, and he could be in a room with anyone and fit in.
I’ve had years of anger, I’ve had years of peace, I’ve had years of feeling so much I became paralyzed by it. But I’ve never been able to tell this part of the story, and that’s okay for this year.
My dad was Anthony Frederick Hawk, he was 37 when he passed he would turn 51 on December 12th this year, he has 3 grandkids he never got to meet. He is the reason I am who I am today, he was my best friend and he is missed dearly.
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metize · 3 years
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Behave.
Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Yagami Light/Reader Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, Praise Kink, Yagami Light is Kira, L is reader's brother, but no one's supposed to know, Possessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships, Blackmail, Coercion, Sexual Coercion, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, 'good girl's, AFAB reader - Freeform, Misogyny, Workplace Sex, Desk Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, this is filthy, I'm so sorry, Manipulation, Top Yagami Light, Jealousy
A/N: Filth! Absolute dirt! I'm the Trash Man! I come out, I throw trash all over AO3, and then I start eating garbage! Enjoy.
"You seem to get along very well with L."
You could practically feel your heart stop when Light said that. You felt so stupid, of course, this guy would figure it out. You tried your best to look unfazed while you panicked on the inside. The black-haired detective and you were trying to keep it a secret from the task force that you were siblings. You cursed Ryuzaki internally, he had been acting kind of protective towards you and it was bound to raise suspicion.
“You think so? I’ve just been trying to be on good terms with everyone.” You deflected.
The investigation room was empty save for the two of you, there was a single monitor showing the news broadcast reporting on the most recent Kira murder. You focused back on the files you were sorting through. Your older brother never cared much for organizing and that drove you mad. You glanced in Light’s direction again, he was staring at you, his gaze sent shivers down your spine, you just forced an awkward smile.
"Did you let him fuck you yet?" He deadpanned.
"W-What the fuck? Of course not!" You answered abruptly. You were offended that Light would even ask something like that. The crude way he said it too, made you blush in embarrassment. You found it weird he'd say something like that, usually Light was nothing short of a gentleman when addressing you.
"Don't get coy all of a sudden. Just admit you two are fucking already." He sounded annoyed now. He got up and got closer to your desk, his eyes never leaving yours. You sometimes felt intimidated in his presence, now in the middle of the night, alone with him towering over you, this feeling increased tenfold.
"T-that's disgusting! Why are you even saying that? We're just… we're just friends, coworkers who get along, whatever!" You started to crack under the pressure.
Light brows furrowed for a second and then his eyes widened in revelation. A grin formed on his face and he burst into laughter like he had finally gotten the punchline to a joke. His laughter was scary, loud and almost maniacal.  You didn't know how to react exactly so you looked at him nervously and confused.
Did he believe you? Did he find the misunderstanding funny? Was that it? You hoped that was it. You offered a weak smile as his laughter died down.
"I was so caught up in this… obsession… this feeling of jealousy… ah. It was obvious all along. You're siblings. Siblings!" He shook his head smiling "This is pathetic. You're becoming such a nuisance with your distraction."
He figured it out, of course it had only been a matter of time. But that realization took way too long for his liking. He was blinded by the rage of the idea of L having you and he didn't stop to consider any other possibilities.
"Excuse me? I didn't-" You got up and started to retort his rude comment.
"Shut the fuck up." And you did so out of shock. Light wasn't like this normally, he was relatively courteous and nice. Why was he so… brutish all of a sudden? He smiled at your obedience. "Good girl."
The praise felt so dirty, you frowned at him. Being infantilized was something you were used to dealing with in the workplace, being surrounded by older men. But Light was pretty much your age, what was he thinking?
You didn't have time to wonder because the man grabbed your collar and pulled you into a kiss.
You tried to push him away instinctively and ask what the fuck he was doing, but Light grabbed your wrists. He held them so tightly it almost marked your skin. Your lips were still closed so he bit them to make you part them. He kissed you aggressively as if he was punishing you for something. his tongue entered your mouth deepening the kiss and claiming your mouth for himself.
He tasted like coffee and sin.
"God, and I thought fucking L's girlfriend was a good idea, this is way better." He sounded extremely amused. "I wonder how is he going to react when he finds out I fucked his pretty little sister?"
Ryuzaki had always had a bad feeling about Light, he mentioned you should be careful around him, you knew all that and here you were. You thought he was being overprotective, to be fair Light wasn't the first guy L had a bad feeling about.
Light's hand was now caressing your hair, smiling content with your current predicament and very proud of himself.
"We… w-we can't." You tried to come up with an excuse. "We work together, so it would be-"
"I am Kira."
You heart stopped when you heard those words. Everything started connections in your head, every lead, every tip, every death. You still had many questions, some things didn't make sense, but as you stood there looking at that man's face it was clear that he wasn't joking.
"W-why are you… telling me this?" You tried to back away slowly. You could hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears.
"Because I feel like keeping you to myself." He smiled sinisterly, every step back you took he stepped forward to approach you again "I was contemplating killing you after pounding your cunt, but I told myself I deserved a little treat."
Hearing him talking about murdering you in cold blood activated your flight instinct immediately. You turned away and rushed towards the door, but as soon as you tried to twist the doorknob and open the door, it was locked. You twisted the knob again and again, desperately trying to unlock it with sheer willpower.
“Stop that, you’re smarter than this.” You heard his voice right against your ear, his hands now grabbing your waist and caressing you through the fabric of your blouse. “There’s only one way you leave this room” he placed a kiss on your neck and you shivered despite yourself “with my cum leaking down your thighs” he grabbed your throat suddenly “and invisibly leashed to me, like a good little pet.”
You were shaking, incredibly aware of Light's bulge pressing against your ass, one hand toying with the hem of your shirt and the other still holding your neck possessively.
"Are we clear, pet?"
You felt his grip tighten a bit so you just quickly nodded your head. It showed to be the wrong answer, because you were punished with a sharp swat to your ass.
"Use your damn words, there's a reason I chose not to gag you." He grabbed your face, forcing you to make eye contact with him. "Say 'Yes, master'."
He was a sick fuck. You wanted to scream at him and call him exactly that. You wanted to push him away and go home already. But god damn it, you wanted to survive this.
"Yes… m-master."
He smiled at your obedience and his grin made you sick to your stomach. He placed a kiss on your temple and pat your hair gently.
"There you go, good girl. That wasn't so hard, was it?" He turned you around quickly and pushed your back against the door. His mouth was on yours again, his hands slipped under your shirt and you shivered feeling his cold touch on your skin. The fabric was restraining his hands so he grew frustrated and started to undress you at once.
"Y-you don't… have to do this, Light. I promise I won't tell anyone, just let me go and-"
"Don't waste your breath. You'll need it when I get to choke you properly…" he answered simply, amused by your perseverance, all the while looking forward to breaking it. "I want to fuck you, so I'm going to do it. I have the whole world in my hands and it's not a little pet that's going to deny me what I want. Understood?"
He tossed your shirt on the floor and started pulling your pencil skirt up. He glared at you for not answering and you promptly spoke up.
"Understood."
He smirked. You felt his fingers trace your slit over your panties, you shuddered and instinctively tried to move away.
"Don't fucking move." His other hand grabbed your waist holding you in place. His tone was harsh and you were so fucking scared.
"Sorry"
"I'm sure you are… Good girl, at least you have manners." He chuckled at that. "Not that your decency matters, look how wet you are for your master…"
He stroked the wet fabric to emphasize his point and you tried to hold back a moan, but it was useless. It felt good, of course it felt good. Light was a hot guy, he obviously knew his way around someone's body and you were only human. His lips captured yours again and he kept playing with your clothed sex as you made out. You could swear you were going insane, the pleasure of his hands on you was intoxicating and his mouth on yours had you gasping for air.
"Get on your knees. Now."
You needed to survive this, you needed to be useful to him. The way he ordered you around did excite you but you needed to stay focused. You were not supposed to feel good, you were supposed to find a way out of this situation.
For now that meant kneeling before Light as he pulled out his cock for you.
You gulped as you eyed him, of course Light Yagami had a big dick, you had to have suspected it. But now you had to give him head and you knew very well he wasn't going to go easy on you. He saw your hesitation and scoffed in amusement.
"Go ahead pet, you want to prove to me you're worth keeping around don't you?" He smiled devilishly at you.
"Yes, master." You murmured and licked your lips. You could do this. And, in a weird way, you kind of wanted to do this, you wanted him to praise you more, to call you a good girl again… you repressed the thought. This is disgusting, Light is disgusting and a murderer. You were strong you won’t fall for his games.
You grabbed his cock by its base and started to gently suck the tip. You looked up at him before taking the whole shaft into your mouth. You sucked him off to the best of your, limited, abilities, trying to get him deeper with each bob of your head. Maybe if he came in your mouth he wouldn’t touch you further, maybe he’d let you go.
Your hopeful thoughts are interrupted by the man’s hand grabbing your hair forcefully, you looked at him and he was grinning like the maniac he was.
“Sit still, let me use your throat a little bit.” His voice was unshaken. You felt a bit annoyed he didn’t seem phased by your efforts. You didn’t have time to dwindle on that feeling because Light was grabbing your face and fucking your mouth as soon as he finished his phrase.
His pace was unrelenting and you felt your spit dribbling down your chin, you tried to breathe in small intervals and you could see him laugh at your predicament. You felt rage but he slowed down his thrusts and started petting your head. Like a kid. Like a pet.
“That’s a good girl, such an obedient little pet…” he breathed and pulled out “Bend over your desk for me.”
Fuck. You were out of breath, you could only nod and do as he said. You didn’t even think of disobeying his order, he praised you again, you were doing a good job… You got up and rested your torso on the desk. He was going to fuck you. Light was Kira and he was blackmailing you into submission. This was an absolute nightmare. So why the fuck were you so turned on?
“You know where you belong, don’t you, pet?” You felt his presence behind you and he pulled down your panties. “Not above anyone, not next to your brother… Not even by my side.” He pulled your hair and you yelped despite yourself “You belong under me.”
He entered you forcefully and you couldn’t help but moan loudly at the intrusion, he didn’t prepare you with his fingers, he didn’t touch you properly at all, it hurt and he knew. But he didn’t give a fuck.
“You should be grateful to your master, whore.” His hand reached around your neck his grip making you gasp. “Tell me you can be obedient.”
“I can!” You cried and you felt his other hand reach between your legs to press your sensitive bud.
“You think you can be useful? Do you think you deserve to live to serve your master?” His thrusts were getting harsher and he groaned “Do you?!”
“Yes, master, please, master!” You begged. To cum, to live, anything. Light held your life in his hands and you were so scared, but so turned on.
“You better....” He grunted and kept on rubbing your clit “I fucking own you. I’m going to cum inside you, going to make you my breeding bitch.”
Oh no. That wasn’t good. That was a bad idea.
“N-no… please not inside” You heard him laugh at your resistance.
“Then tell me… tell me his name.” His name? Fuck. Ryuzaki.
You couldn’t tell him his name. Was he going to kill you if you didn’t? You couldn’t do it. You sobbed and grasped his arm in fear.
“No, I can’t, I can’t!” You cried out shaking your head. The pleasure was overwhelming and you came on his fingers screaming. “I can’t! Ah!”
You saw stars, Light never stopped pounding you as he laughed maniacally at your desperation.
“Know your fucking place… useless cunt.... Fuck-” His laughter died down and he pulled you closer as he came inside you.
You felt his spent dripping down your pussy, you trembled both from the orgasm and from fear of what came next. Light pulled out and turned you around, smiling amused at your scared face.
“Don’t worry, pet, of course I wasn’t counting on a dumb slut like you telling me this information…” He pat your head and you stood there with tears rolling down your face “You’re beneath me, I don’t need you, I don’t need your help. I’ll find out eventually.” He chuckled and wiped away your tears “But I do know your name. So you better behave.” He kissed your forehead. “Won’t you, pet?”
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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years
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Jake and Amy single parents AU.
Pretty please! :))
oh! Oh, I strangely love this one!
- Amy is a police-widow with little Mac (no, Teddy was not the father, it was a non-canon detective), while Jake is at the better end of a really messy divorce from Sofia, who very quickly handed over all alimony of Maya to him to focus on her career.
-Amy tries her best to juggle the newly single parent life with her full-time position running a bookshop, while Jake is not too happy about having to bring Maya in to the precinct all the time, but it can’t be helped (and Scully makes a surprisingly good babysitter). The squad’s had his back through the entire break-up, and they all love his little girl to bits, so at least she won’t be missing the family aspect in her life - and will always have an amazing female role model in her Auntie Rosa, who’s already planning to teach her Spanish just so she can trashtalk her dad with her without Jake knowing
- Mac + Maya meet at daycare and absolutely hit it off, despite the age difference of two years. Mac has apparently seen another curly headed toddler and immediately decided to brother the sh*t out of her. He takes her along to all his games and helps her pick colours for her pictures and shares his apple slices with her in exchange for a bit of sandwich (which is much nicer anyway).
- the daycare workers absolutely adore the little duo, and can’t help remarking how much they look like siblings anyway. So of course Jake has to meet the mom of the adorable little boy who always bring his daughter over to him for pickup by holding her hand.
- he’s a bit afraid of having to deal with the usual “Aw they’re little boyfriend and girlfriend” comments he’s expecting, but obviously Amy is having none of that. Instead, she tells him how glad she is that Mac has found a little friend to protect. “He’s always trying to protect everyone so much, ever since his dad... well...”
- (Jake knew, distantly, that she was the widow of one of his colleagues from another precinct, but apart from the usual condolences they’d all sent it had never really registered in his mind that there was a wife and a child left behind.)
- “Oh well Maya is so happy too. She’s a bit shy and scared at the moment, so having a big friend help her get out of her shell is great. Your little boy is a sweetheart, too.”
- Amy smiles at him, and he’s pretty sure his heart should not be doing what it’s doing, so he beats it down and tries his best to ignore it. Which is hard, because she smiles at him a lot in the coming months when they meet up for playdates, Mac over excited to show Maya all his favourite spots at the park or the coolest fish at the aquarium.
- Jake moans during one of their meet-ups about a case that has been dragging on forever and is going to need an allnighter to finally be solved, and his partner Boyle is really trying his best alone, but he’s the primary on it and- it feels great to talk about it with someone who understands, outside of his squad, even if Amy sometimes nods with the saddest look on her face when he mentions parts of his job. But she offers him last minute babysitting if he ever needs it, considering her job finishes promptly at 5pm each day, and he can’t help but take her offer when another case hits that needs him on a stake out at 10pm.
- so Maya gets a lovely sleepover with Mac, and Amy gets the biggest box of her favourite pralines as a thank you, because Jake has never, not once, given Maya to a babysitter to go to his job without feeling remorse and guilt, not even his own mom, but he had to deal with none of that when Maya gladly ran up the stairs to Amy’s place where Mac was already shouting her name.
- needless to say that Amy and Jake become the great friends they always are over time. He brings coffee and muffins to their park playdates, and she brings over frozen meals from Mac’s abuela for kid movie marathons at Jake’s place. They know each other’s schedules to help out with the kids, Jake has convinced everyone in his friend group and workplace to only buy books at her store from now on, and Amy is already planning the christmas gift she needs to pack for Maya and her daddy.
- it would be a nice, supportive friendship of equals, and a good help in their single parent life, if it wasn’t for the fact that Jake realised about three playdates in that he was falling for Amy faster than a shooting star. It took her a little longer, but realisation hit when she was packing Mac’s lunchbox, her own lunchbox, and Maya’s lunchbox too after a sleepover, and subconsciously already wanted to bag up a fourth set of sandwiches with some gummy bears and a soda thrown in for good measure.
- Rosa tells him to ‘grow a pair and ask her out, she sounds perfect for both you and Maya’ when Jake confides in her. And that is rare praise coming from Diaz, because no one is good enough for Maya in her eyes, sometimes not even Jake himself. But he can’t take advantage of Amy’s friendship like that, not when it risks losing both her and Mac for Maya... and there is always the underlying fear that Maya will bond with a new woman in her life and be left behind yet again if they don’t work out, just like with her mom, whose biggest contribution to her life since the divorce has been the alimony payments each month.
- Kylie, meanwhile, warns Amy not to risk too much when she confides in her. She sadly remembers the many days she had to spend at her friend-coworker’s side after the funeral, cleaning out half of a closet and half of a shared home, basically. She’d been hoping that Amy would find love again, maybe in a few years time, but when she heard the news about her ‘great new friend’ being a detective himself, her heart dropped because she knew what that might be heading towards, and Amy very much shares her fears. She’d vowed to an absolute ‘no cops’ rule for her planned restart of dating in two years, perfectly scheduled with Mac’s start of school.
- as it is, both of them dance around their emotions in a perfectly synchronised waltz while still getting closer and closer as friends and parents, to the point that the daycare workers don’t even bat an eye anymore when Amy brings both Mac and Maya in, or when Jake picks both of them up into his arms with an excited ‘ready for ice cream and games?!’ before they meet up with Amy for a Coney Island afternoon.
- until one day, when the daycare offers a ‘star gazing sleep over’ event after the story of the stars and night sky was the theme of the week, and it falls right on the day Amy and Jake were planning to take the kids to a movie. “We could still go.” Jake mumbles while Maya runs into the daycare center, not shy at all anymore, and Mac follows her. “You want to go see Paddington’s Big Adventure... without the kids?” Amy jokes, but he looks so serious. “No, of course not, but I mean - we - uh - we both got the evening off now, don’t we? I told my captain I won’t be in no matter what. Seems like a waste of time just going home. We could see that period drama you talked about, that will definitely get an Oscar?”
- Amy hesitates only for a second, but they do go. They watch the drama that Jake has to admit is pretty damn good for a movie where nothing explodes or is set on fire, and that praise does not only come from the fact that Amy grabbed his hand with a gasp during a particularly emotional scene, and then kind of forgot to let go afterwards.
- but then the movie ends and Jake still doesn’t want to go home. Neither does Amy, apparently, because she offers up an ‘amazing 24h diner’ around the corner for some late night snacks, during which they laugh and flick chocolate chips at each other and end up blushing like mad when the waitress comments on what a ‘cute couple’ they are.
- he walks her to her front door, and they both kinda don’t know what to do as they say goodbye, because this kind of date night should usually end on a kiss, but it wasn’t really a date, was it, they would’ve taken the kids along if it hadn’t been for the day care event, and-
- “Ames, I’m - this is terrifying, but I think I’ll hate myself even more for not ever saying anything - and, and, I kind of, maybe, I think you might also-” She takes his hand again, a lot softer than she did in the cinema. “I think this is the kind of talk that needs a coffee and a good couch.”
- That’s how they end up at her place that Jake already knows so well from bringing Maya over, from the perfectly styled bookcases down to the absolute mess of a playroom that is Mac’s kingdom. They both grip their coffee cups tightly as they talk it all out, about what they’re afraid of, what they would risk if they gave ‘them’ a try.
- “I wouldn’t ever want to put Mac through losing another cop-dad even if it wasn’t from work, and I won’t let Maya lose another mom.” “Me neither. And I promised Mac I’d never forget his papa, but... I can clearly see him love his new daddy, too. He already looks up to you so much. He wants a flannel shirt for christmas.” “Maya introduced you as Mama Amy to one of my aunties. Which was quite a thing to explain.” Amy laughs, and then smiles at him, and his heart does that thing again, like it has been doing for months now, but this time he doesn’t beat it down. This time he lets it lead him to lean in for the most careful kiss, a kiss that Amy gladly returns, just as carefully.
- they agree to take things slow, be mindful, not drop it on the kids immediately or rush into things from the pressure of friends or family.
- and then three months later Amy finds the perfect apartment for the four of them, and Jake aks Gina and Rosa for ring preferences and proposal tips, and ‘slow and mindful’ has flown out the window the second Maya brought home a picture she did with Mac at daycare showing their little ‘family’ before Amy or Jake had even talked to them about their possible dating.
- Maya grows up with her Mama teaching her Spanish along with Auntie Rosa, and an abuela and abuelo who love to spoil her with Cuban sweets just as much as her big brother. Mac gets to ride along in his Daddy’s police car sometimes, and hears stories about his brave Papa from his colleagues. His auntie Gina is so proud of him for taking care of his little sister the way she took care of her little brother too. And Jake gets to see Amy smile all the time now, and knows it’s him and their kids that is making her smile so much.
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anjuschiffer · 4 years
Text
Amira Wayne - Chapter 2
Day 2 of Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020! Woo! And, follow @biodad-bruce-month for more content!
Note: The AO3 Link to this fic will be on the first chapter only.
Chapter 2: Father-Daughter Bonding
P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan
Tag: @vixen-uchiha @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123
-
MASTERLIST | Prev
-
Bruce looked at Amira, stumped by her wailing.
At first he thought it was because she already missed Talia, but it’s been a solid three hours since then and she never cried between that time until now. It wasn’t until he had placed her on his bed that she started to become fussy, her small hands waving all over the place.
Perhaps she adored being held?
“Master Bruce - good heavens! What is that- is that a child you have there Master Bruce?” Alfred asked as he stepped into Bruce’s bedroom with a tray of tea, appalled by the odor in the room.
“Meet Amira...my daughter.” Bruce introduced, watching as Alfred set down the tray, slowly approaching the wailing girl.
“Pardon me Master Bruce, but when was the last time you changed the young miss?”
“Changed?” Bruce asked, glancing at Alfred and then at Amira. “As in, clothes?”
“I meant her diaper.” Alfred clarified, picking up Amira and bouncing her in his arms, Bruce not liking how easily Amira stopped crying. “I will bathe the young miss while you start heading to the nearest baby store. Here’s a list of things I need you to buy.”
Alfred quickly took out his notepad and scribbled away, tearing off two sheets worth of writing and handing it to Bruce. “Hurry now. We don’t have all evening.”
And so Bruce was pushed out of his room, sent on a mission to buy... baby things…
-
“Do you need help si- Mister Wayne! Oh! I-um...how can I help you?” The store worker asked him, averting her gaze.
What was the richest person in Gotham doing in a department store like the one she worked in?!
Bruce looked at her name tag. Elizabeth. He’ll make sure to pay her for his troubles.
“Hi, I’m looking for all of these items, but I’ve searched throughout this store and can’t seem to find them.” Bruce said, handing Elizabeth the list Alfred had given him. He watched as the young girl’s eyes widened before looking at Bruce and back at the list.
“You can find all of these on our third floor, in the baby department.” Elizabeth provided, stifling a laugh when Bruce looked at her confused. 
There was a third floor? “Would you like it for someone to-”
“Please.” Bruce practically begged, Elizabeth nodding. Bruce watched as she ran to a fellow coworker, gestured at him before running back to him. Bruce noticed the way the other coworker paled when she saw him.
“Well Mister Wayne, my name is Elizabeth and I’ll be glad to be of service.”
“Thank you so much.”
-
Bruce spent the next three hours being led by Elizabeth around the baby section, only then noticing that he really wasn’t up to the task. 
When Elizabeth talked about Amira’s age, Bruce didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how old she was, what she was able to do or even eat. Vaccines? Apparently, babies needed that too. 
“I also suggest talking to your daughter frequently.” Elizabeth states, picking up another adorable outfit for Amira. You can never go wrong with dresses. “Talking to her would help enhance her speech, especially if she’s not babbling. Babbling should be common for her if she’s around six months old.”
“How do you know so much?” Bruce decided to ask, looking at the cart that was almost filled to the brim with supplies and clothes. There were bottles, sippy cups, plastic bowls, bibs, a few interactive toys, a white crib and a stroller. Oh...and diapers...lots of them.
“Well, I want to become a pediatrician, so I often find myself reading about child development and such during my time off.” Elizabeth told him with a soft smile. “And then there’s the fact that I practically raised my two younger siblings since they were newborns. I often helped my mother take care of them, absorbing all the new knowledge like a sponge. 
While it sounds like she dumped a bit of the responsibility on me, I know my mother meant well. A slice of what it meant to be a mother, to be responsible for another life.”
Bruce hummed at her answer, picking up a white pajama on the rack, wondering if Amira would even like it. Does she even know what a bee was? Did she even know what was going on? Did he even know what was going on? What his life was for him now?
“I wonder if I’m up to the task.” Bruce muttered to himself, but Elizabeth heard it loud and clear.
“No one is born knowing what they’re expected to do and be ready for.” Elizabeth said, picking up another outfit. “Sometimes, we just have to go with the flow and see where we land.”
Bruce repeated those words mentally, picking up another pajama, a yellow this time, it had a sheep on it.
Go with the flow, huh?
-
After spending hours in the baby area, Bruce was ready to go home, mentally relaying the notes Elizabeth had given him. 
He started laying out the plans he had in mind for Amira’s nursery, deciding on using the room next to his. While the only way to enter it was through the main door, he could always make another door that connected the nursery and his room for easier access.
After unloading everything from the car to inside the manor, Bruce decided to bring some fresh clothing to the last place he saw Alfred and Amira, panic setting into him when he heard wailing coming from the room.
Bruce pushed the door open, seeing Alfred with Amira in his arms, the girl reaching for something that wasn’t there.”
“Welcome back Master Bruce.” Alfred wearily said, the two noticing that Amira quickly looked over to Bruce, her small hands no longer searching for him. Her wails became hiccups as she continued to stare at Bruce. “Look, Amira. It’s your father. I told you he would be back.”
As soon as Alfred said those words, Amira began to cry again, Bruce quickly taking her from Alfred and began to walk her around the room. He then remembered that Elizabeth had told him.
He should talk to her.
“Amira. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Bruce listened as her wails grew softer. “I went to buy some things, but now I’m back.”
Bruce listened as Amira softly stopped crying, now tiny hiccups escaping her. “There, there.”
“I’ve seen you’re starting to step up to the task, Master Bruce.”
“Someone has to look after her. Who better than us, her family?” Bruce asked, then realizing that Amira had yet to be clothed. 
Bruce wandered to the bags, quickly taking out the mountain of clothing. 
He quickly sets Amira down on the bed so that he can organize the clothing. In doing so, he missed how Amira sat up. He only noticed it when she had crawled to sit in front of him. 
She can sit. And crawl. 
“If she can sit by herself and is starting to crawl, she may already be six months old.”
Bruce watched as Amira took a liking to the two clothing articles in front of her. Or rather, the two pajamas. More specially the white and yellow pajamas that Bruce had picked out - the sheep and the bee respectfully.
He watched in wonder as Amira stared at them, looking between the two for a while before patting the yellow onesie with the sheep on it. 
“Sheep it is then.” Bruce said, unbuttoning the pajama. How did he forget the onesie that goes underneath?
He quickly clothed Amira, clasping the last button to find Amira looking at him with her wide green eyes. 
“You are a natural.” Alfred decided to speak up, watching as Bruce picked up Amira with confidence. 
“Or perhaps I’m willing to learn.” Bruce stated, watching as Amira yawned, watching her start to doze off. “One day at a time.”
-
The two men luckily found out that Amira was seven months old, thanks to the birth certificate and other documents Talia had left in the baby carrier. It made certain legal procedures go more smoothly, while for others, it took some time.
As days went by, Bruce and Alfred started to notice that Amira was smarter than what she let on. 
She knew to not place anything in her mouth that wasn’t food, something that both Bruce and Alfred appreciated. Bruce quickly found out that she liked to observe items, Amira often gazing at a toy for minutes, listening to a rattle make the faintest sound as she passed it from one chubby hand to the other.
She would recognize the places she was in, lay down when she was in the crib and remain seated while she was on the couch or in a chair. Alfred found out that she adored watching him cook, her eyes following every movement he made as he prepared dinner as she sat in her highchair. 
Alfred also found out that she was very fond of strawberries and apples, Alfred melting when Amira would grace him with the largest smile possible when she would realize that Alfred had made her favorite purees. 
She would smile and frown but would never make a sound that wasn’t a cry. Even when Bruce noticed that she wanted to let out a cry, she never whimpered or sniffled. It was as if she was suppressing those emotions. Luckily, after paying Dr.Leslie Thompkins a visit, Bruce learned that it was just a habit she must have learned while she was with Talia. Thompkins assured Bruce that by talking with Amira more, it would help her unlearn that habit. Surely enough, the doc was right.
Amira soon grunted, babbled and rambled more frequently and at random points in the day. Babbling not only helped her get Bruce’s attention, but also made him smile more. Amira soon learned that ‘Dada’ made him smile even more, especially when he would not be home for longer periods of time. As much as she adored Alfred, no one beats Dada.
Now having a system of communication, Bruce would often coax Amira to come towards him, Amira standing just three steps away from him.
He would watch as she would proudly stand by herself before taking a single wobbly step towards him. Another two steps followed slowly after, Amira bursting into a giggling fit when she reached Bruce. 
Those tiny steps soon turned into hops, strides and jumps, Bruce not believing how quickly time had passed. 
He watched her grow before his eyes, feeling a smile grow on his face as he kept listening to Amira read to him. 
“-ate through one nice green leaf, and after that he felt much better.” Amira said, turning the page. “Now he wasn’t hungry anymore and- is there something wrong Dad?” Amira asked, Bruce wondering what she meant. “You’re crying.”
“Am I know?” Bruce asked, raising his hand to his eyes, wiping away what was a tear. Seems like he was. “It’s nothing. Probably some dust got into my eye.”
“Are you sure you shouldn’t be patrolling tonight?” Amira asked, showing Bruce himself in the form of a Batman plushie.
It’s been two years since Bruce became Batman, all thanks to a single incident that almost cost him his life. He almost left Amira in the same situation as him when he was ten...
He needed to make Gotham a safer place for his daughter, what better way than striking fear into criminals?
Some people of the general public are glad to have him, despite it being a mere eight percent. Everyone else fears him, except Gotham’s villains...and his own daughter. It didn’t take long for her to find out he was Batman. Then again, it’s not like Bruce was trying to keep it a secret from her.
As for the Batman plushie, it was a gift from Alfred to Amira, something about having Bruce always with her.
Bruce smiled at the plushie, getting up from the bed and tucking Amira in.
“As much as Gotham needs Batman, you also need me to tuck you into bed.”
“Dad, I’m seven. I can do it myself.” 
“Does that mean you don’t want me to tuck you in anymore?” He watched as Amira pursed her lips before sinking into the comforter some more.
“I still like being tucked into bed.” Amira muttered, gaining a chuckle from Bruce. “Are we still going to the circus tomorrow?” Amira asked, springing up, watching her father’s face for some type of confirmation.
“Amira,” Bruce said with a frown, tucking one of her hair strands behind her ear. “Remember what we talked about?”
Amira hung her head, looking at Batman in her hands. It was times like this that Amira wished they never lived in Gotham, that her father wasn’t a billionaire...
“If it’s a place where the public knows you or a place that I can easily be spotted, I can’t go.” Amira recited, letting a frown replace her smile. She threw herself back onto her bed, throwing her comforter over her head.
Bruce let out a heavy huff.
“Goodnight.” He whispered, deciding to let her be. As soon as he stepped out of her room, Bruce faced Alfred.
“Is Miss Amira asleep already?” Alfred asked, motioning to the tray with a cup of milk. “She usually drinks a glass before going to sleep.”
“She’s awake, but I wonder if she would even talk.” When he saw Alfred lift a brow, Bruce decided to continue. “I told her she couldn’t join me to go watch the Haly’s Circus tomorrow. The press already knows I’m going, I can’t let them know about Amira just yet.”
“With all due respect Master Bruce,” Alfred began, opening the door to walk in. “The longer you keep hiding her from the public, the harder it will be to keep it that way. You can’t keep sheltering her away from a world she deserves to see. To be in.”
Bruce was left with those words in his mind, wondering what he should do.
Ever since he was assaulted, he vowed to protect Amira, even if it meant that she could not step foot outside the manor.
When she turned three, Bruce made sure to homeschool her, teaching her the basics of English, which included reading and writing. One she was five, he taught her the basics in math and science. As a side subject, Bruce was starting to teach her French, hoping to teach her mandarin when she grows older. 
But now that Alfred was stating that Bruce should allow Amira to go out, Bruce wondered if he had been approaching this situation wrong this entire time.
But what if villains found out about her being his daughter? Of being a Way-
Bruce stood there in his thoughts for a while before an idea wouldn’t leave his head. Why didn’t he think about this sooner?
-
Amira let out a gasp as she entered the circus tent, gaping at how large it was, taken aback at how many people there were inside the tent.
There was even a second level inside the tent!
“Is it usually this crowded?” Amira asked the man next to her. Or rather, Tom Dupain - her ‘father.’
“I heard it’s like this because of Mr.Wayne visiting the circus today, but it usually is this crowded during Sunday shows.” Tom provided, watching as Amira continued to look around, a smile escaping him. 
He always wondered what it felt like to have a child, wondering if he was even up to the task.
When Bruce Wayne had reached out to him to look after his daughter, Tom Dupain accepted the honor. After all, it was thanks to Bruce that his tiny bakery in Gotham was taking off, Tom’s dream of being a well known bakery taking form. All it took was one gala and Tom’s pastries for his dream to take off, Tom knowing he owed Bruce a huge favor.
He had met the young Wayne at that very gala, the girl having snuck into the kitchen to get a taste of one of his pastries. Amira Wayne - Tom only knew her as Amira and the granddaughter of Mr.Alfred Pennyworth. Tom didn’t think Amira was Bruce’s daughter as there was no news about the young Wayne.
While Tom had only known her for a few moments before Alfred shooed her away, Tom had grown a soft spot for the child.
“Mr.Dupain-”
“Tom is fine.”
“Mr.Tom,” Amira corrected herself. “Thank you for letting me be here today.” Amira said, holding Tom’s hand with both of hers. 
Just as Tom was about to respond, the ringmaster chose that moment to begin the show.
Amira watched as the ringmaster welcomed the people and shouted out her father, seeing him across the tent, smiling when they saw each other. 
The ringmaster then introduced the Flying Graysons, Amira’s eyes widening at how high up the family was. She wondered if her own father would allow her to be that high up.
With the cheering of the crowd, Amira watched with wonder as the Grayson’s started their performance, starting with a somersault. She watched as the man caught his wife with ease, the woman sending a salut before going onto the platform. Amira watched with absolutely glee as she watched the son do two somersaults in the air before returning back to the platform. 
Amira listened as the ringmaster announced the Graysons' famous trick. Amira stood at the edge of her seat, feeling her heart thump loudly against her chest. She watched as the woman spun once, twice...thrice! But as soon as she was caught by her husband, the string of the bar snapped, Amira feeling her heart come to a stop. 
She watched as the two fell and just as they were two were mere feet away from touching the ground, her eyes were covered. 
Amira would never forget the screams she heard as she was ushered out of the tent. She heard Tom whisper to her that everything was going to be okay in rushed French. 
That everything was fine. 
That was the first and last time she was allowed to step out of the manor for a very long time.
NEXT
202 notes · View notes
chibikinesis · 5 years
Text
Another ModernAU short draft ♥ ♥ ♥ 1700-ish words.
Another fairly uneventful day was finally coming to a close. The clock signaled the arrival of the final quarter of Edward's shift, and he gazed longingly out the window and into the courtyard. Days like this made for easy money, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't rather be just about anywhere else on such a beautiful day.
"Don't worry, Ed. You're in the home stretch now." Daniel chuckled, making his way into the room with two mugs of coffee. He placed one of them on the desk near Edward's elbow, and sunk back into his chair with a grunt. "What, two more hours?"
"That'll probably feel like another eight." Edward sighed tiredly, lifting the ceramic to his lips and taking a sip.  "Thanks for fresh cup.”
"Hey, no problem." Daniel pulled an excess of creamer and sugar packets from his pocket, and Edward chuckled. It was far from the first time it'd happened, and he was sure it'd be far from the last either. "Y'know... whoever said cargo pants are useless was a goddamned fool."
"Solid point." Edward smirked. "I mean... what'd you manage to squeeze into all those pockets? Half the coffee bar?"
Dan laughed wickedly. "Smartass."
Edward sighed, a contented smile on his face as he looks around. His attention was seized by a figure drawing nearer to the window; a slender woman with a trendy blonde bob, his age or a little older, and wearing an outfit that he could pin as neither casual nor dressy. 
She took little notice of him; her gaze had immediately honed in on Daniel, who had just taken notice of the peculiar look on his coworker's face. When he heard a gentle tapping on the glass, he turned to greet this new guest.
"Hey, you old codger." She grinned, laughter in her voice. "Still working here?"
"Heeeyyyy, nice to see you, too." Daniel laughed that ornery laugh of his, rising to his feet and striding over to the window to greet her. "How the hell ya been, kid? Been a while!"
"Doing well, actually. Finally found a nice little place to settle into nearby."
"You back in town then?"
"Yep. Have been for a few months now, actually. Finding my footing, settling in, what-have-you. Finding a decent job, and don't even get me started on the moving process." She sighed, as if to recall just what a hassle it had all been. "What about you?"
"Still here. Can't complain." He smiled warmly. "Don't do any good even if I do, so..."
"Doesn't hurt to try, at any rate, does it?"
Edward watched the exchange in silent confusion, sipping at his coffee. Daniel certainly seemed familiar with the young woman, and that wasn't a terribly common thing to see. He was becoming more and more curious as to how she knew him.
"You're more optimistic than I am." Daniel grumbles. "But, hey, I doubt you're just here to shoot the shit with this old codger, right?"
"It's been nice, Dan, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't come here to see someone else."
"I figured as much. Lemme get 'im on the horn."
Daniel turned and walked a few paces to grab his radio, and the woman leaned in just a bit to survey the security room as she waited. Her wandering eyes stumble across Edward's pensive form and she does a double-take; it took her a moment to place it, but she was certain that this was the man she'd seen in Jack's company during a fair few of her shifts. She smiled warmly at the recollection, and offered a small wave, which he awkwardly returned.
"'Ey, Jack, you copy?"
"Daniel? What is it?"
"Ya' got a visitor down here."
"A visitor?"
"Yeah. Waitin' down here by the security office."
"Now who on Earth-"
Daniel quickly switched channels on his radio, knowing that Jack was about to barrage him with a slew of questions he didn't particularly feel like answering. Plus, he had no doubt the resulting anger would make the doctor's trip downstairs even more hasty. The old guard smirked confidently. "He'll be right down."
"That's one way to do it." The woman was impressed by just how bold Daniel had gotten since she last saw him. If she was being honest, she found that she quite enjoyed it.
As if on cue, they could hear the grinding of the staff elevator descending; with a loud ding, the doors slid open, and almost immediately, they could hear Jack's angry, nasally voice spilling out.
"Daniel, what have I told you about cutting me off like that?!" he spewed. "I can't always afford to come down here on such short noti-"
He came to an abrupt stop when the woman stepped into view, a calm smile on her face. "Hey, Jack."
"Em-..." He stopped dead in his tracks. It took him a full moment to digest it all; he looked as though he'd just seen a ghost, and seeing him that way left Edward feeling a little uneasy himself. "Emogene."
"Since you don't seem like you can be bothered to respond to any of my texts or calls," she spoke, a meaningful undertone in her voice. "- I thought it might just be easier to try stopping in to talk, one-on-one."
Jack sighed, guilt etched on his features as he nodded feebly in agreement. "Let's... follow me."
Daniel and Edward watched as the two walked out the nearby set of glass doors and into the courtyard outside. Daniel's gaze strayed, and he studied Edward's worried face for a moment before shifting his attention back outside, and back again. He smiled knowingly.
"Ed."
"Hm?"
"You can un-clench your buttcheeks now." Daniel chuckled. "Emogene is Jack's sister."
Edward tried to brush it off, but they both knew better. His cheeks darkened, and he waved his hand dismissively, both of them shifting their attention back to what was going on outside.
“Look, I know you’re on the clock right now, so I don’t want to keep you too long, I just...” Emogene drew a long breath and huffed a defeated sigh; or at least as defeated as she’d let herself sound. But Jack knew. “I miss you, Jack. I know I hurt you and mom when I took off back then, but I there were just some things I needed to do by myself, for myself. And I did, and I’ve grown... so much. I’m doing so much better now, Jack, and I’m trying to be a better sister, if you’d just give me that chance.”
“I told you, we could meet up some time-”
“Oh please, Jack, you’ve been making excuses and putting me on the back burner for three months now. You know, when you’re not outright ignoring me.” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “I see you having lunch all the time and you don’t even bother to say hello. “C’mon, if you can make time to have lunch with your guard in there like... three times a week, you can squeeze in some time for me-”
“Wha- how...” Her mouthfuls were loaded with accusations, none of which he found he could really refute, and her brother’s cheeks darkened in shame. The last one stung a bit more than he thought it might, though. He’d have stolen a glance back at Edward if he wasn’t concerned he’d be too obvious. “How did you...?”
“Because I’m the head event coordinator at the mall and I’m there just about every day. If you actually talked to me you might know that by now.” Her voice was scolding, but not excessively abrasive. Perhaps a sign of that personal growth she’d hinted to. “Look, I know that if you’re anything like you used to be... which, you probably are...”
Jack crinkled his nose at just how correct she was in her assumptions.
“ - that you’re probably just going straight home after work, and shutting yourself up in your study, and being a hermit for the rest of the night. Or entertaining mother’s whims.” Jack could detect a small bit of venom in her tone when she mentioned Wilhelmina, but she quickly recovered. “- I’ve got a pretty nice apartment now, and I’d love to have you over for dinner. I ... really wanna’ catch up. Hear what’s been going on with you. Maybe fill you in on what’s been up with me, if you give half a damn.”
The doctor’s stance softened, and his lips curled into a small smile. All this time and she could still read him like a book. But her idea was sounding... tolerable.
“I know a break from her did me good. Probably wouldn’t hurt you, either. I think we could finally act like... functional siblings for once if she’s not helicoptering over us and stirring the pot.”
Jack raised an eyebrow and cocked his head ever so slightly, and Emogene shrugged.
“... maybe. That might be asking too much. It’s worth a shot.” Her nose wrinkled at the thought, and she gave a playful shrug. “But if you come over and decide you still don’t really want to associate with me, I mean, I... guess that’s fine. At least you can say you gave it a shot.”
There was something a little heartbreaking in that last sentence, and it registered as a small ache in Jack’s chest. Had he really made her feel so alienated with his behavior?
“Just... give me that chance, Jack.”
He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard more sincerity in her voice in his whole life; it wasn’t delivered without her signature Emogene Cynicism, of course, but it was definitely there and more tangible than ever. She was letting her walls down enough to let him in. She was taking the initiative to repair the bonds that had been broken. And he was dodging her like a plague.
Who’s really the bad sibling in this situation, when I really think about it? He pondered for a moment. He didn’t like the conclusion he drew, but it was one he needed to accept. You need to do better.
“Actually, Emogene, that sounds... great.” He smiled weakly at her. There was a lot more he wanted to say to her. He had a lot to apologize for, for starters, but he supposed that could wait until he visited her apartment later. He supposed the lapse would give him more time to mentally prepare and rehearse it all. Besides, he was still on the clock. “What time?”
“Seven... ish?” She gestured vaguely. “But, uh... don’t tell mom about me. I’m... not ready for her to know I’m back home yet.”
Jack nodded solemnly and understandingly at her, and she beamed him a genuine smile.
“I’ll text you my address, okay?”
“I’ll actually open it this time.” her brother chuckled.
“Cute.” She snarled. “Anyway, I’ll be holding you to that. You better be there tonight.”
“I promise.” 
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silenthillmutual · 5 years
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I don't know if you're the right person to tell this to but I think my mom's emotionally abusive. She gets mad whenever I get upset at her and gaslights me(probably??) whenever I call her out. I tried to tell her that she never apologized for hurting my feelings and she responded with, "I don't have to apologize to you" and it just made me feel worse. My family's Christian and all but I'm scared to tell the pastor(or anyone) because I don't want her to get mad at me. Do you have any advice?
I guess I’m a decent source for that, and I’ve got enough spoons today to answer this! 
I’ll be honest with you, a parent reacting with anger whenever you get upset with them is never a good sign. The “I don’t have to apologize to you” response is definitely emotionally abusive, especially if it’s not a reaction in a vacuum; anything as an isolated incident is understandable since we all make mistakes, but this doesn’t sound like a one-off thing. 
I had a couple of friends help me through being gaslit myself; here are a few articles on the topic, all of which are pretty brief:
Were You Born Under the Gaslight?
11 Warning Signs of Gaslighting
a resource post from r/RaisedByNarcissists
I’m not a psychologist in any capacity, but having been through it myself and having sat down and watched a film adaptation from where the term hails, here’s a sort of brief rundown of some things gaslighters will do to their victims:
making attempts to isolate you (from friends, from family members, etc; ex, excessive monitoring of your communications with friends to the point of taking your phone or computer so you can’t contact them, although this may be done subtly)
telling you that you have traits or attributes that do not feel or sound like things you do (ex, telling you that you are “forgetful” or “tend to lose things” even when you are not a forgetful person)
accusing you of lying, whether directly or indirectly (ex. asking, “what did you do with x thing?”, not believing you when you say you haven’t seen it; then when you find it, saying something to the effect of, “so you did know where it was”)
saying things with emotion and then denying there is any emotion behind their words (ex. if they say something to you in an angry way and when you say, “don’t be angry,” they say, “i’m not angry” and look at you like you’re crazy)
making you look bad in front of others (this can be making you look like a jerk, making you look inconsiderate, making you look foolish, like a buzzkill, etc.)
taking on a tone to imply that you are scaring them, even when you have not done or said anything out of the ordinary (if you’re thinking to yourself, “i didn’t even have any emotion behind this, i didn’t even sound angry” and they’re reacting like they’re afraid you’re going to hit you? that’s gaslighting)
whiplash mood swings and honeymooning - quickly going from being angry at you to putting on a convincing happy act in front of others; “honeymooning” is when, after a period of abuse, they start to act really nice and considerate towards you, making you think that they’ve changed, or maybe they do one really nice thing for you as a way to “make up” for their behavior (this never lasts, don’t buy it.)
turning themselves into the victim of every situation (guilt tripping you, especially in situations where you are telling them that they have hurt you. parents really love this one; it’s the “oh so i’m a horrible parent” comeback to any time you’ve ever said “this really hurt my feelings”)
infantalizing you (another parental favorite)
upsetting you in public, covertly, so that only you are aware of what they have said/done
threatening you with institutionalization
Another big one that I don’t think I mentioned here because it’s not one that came up in the film is outright denying that something ever happened. We tend to assume that’s something we’d be able to catch outright, but the truth of the matter is that their lies start out small and they do all of these things above & more for the sake of putting you off balance and confusing you so that by the time their lies get to the level of things you should be able to look at and say plainly, “that’s not true,” you’ve gotten to the point where you feel like you can’t trust your own memory or judgement of things. 
I’ll give a couple examples because the list of potential things they could lie about goes between fairly small stuff to extreme stuff:
my mother claimed once that she was never on her phone during dinner
my mother claiming she’d never seen movies that not only did i remember her commentary on, but i’m pretty sure one of them we actually saw in theatres
her claiming i’d never told her things that i most definitely had told her before
combined with that one: lying about the last time we’d had contact; right before i cut off all contact with her i was able to actually screenshot the dates and times of the last time we’d spoken and send them to her
lying about actual historical facts; in my mother’s case: refusing to acknowledge that ABA had, since its inception, used aversives and was abusive in practices, was the foundation of the conversion therapy movement. i sent her screenshot and link proofs of this as well and she did not appreciate it
she also claimed that she never threatened to kick me out of the house and claimed that i promised her i would start therapy before starting HRT - neither of which are accurate or even remotely believable (you really think i’d up and move w two weeks notice halfway across the country if i hadn’t been kicked out? i have to laugh.)
Another one that did not really get shown well in the film but that I believe i’ve read somewhere and have personal experience with, is that they like to keep you traumatized. It keeps you in a state of like... uncertainty, I guess you could say. It keeps you from feeling completely lucid or in control of things, and more likely to need help and depend on them for continued support. They may also be likely to mess with your head in other ways, like with the use of drugs - and I don’t just mean illegal ones; parents who have control over your medication and make sure you take it do have to potential to keep you up on medications you don’t actually need as a method of control. (Both of these can actually be seen in use in the film Midsommar w/ the suicide ritual being a method of continued trauma and the constant drug use being...obvious. I’m sure it gets used in other places too but that was the first one to come to mind, and Aster does a really good job of showing how effective that shit is.)
I don’t really know what other religions rules are like when it comes to confidentiality. I was raised Catholic, and there was a certain understanding about priests and ethics that pretty much went that unless you had a warrant (and on top of that, a damn good reason; iirc there have been plenty who don’t even testify under oath) they weren’t to tell anyone what you told them in confidence. If you know anything about their ethics regarding that or even feel that you can ask them safely about it, it could be a good place to start if you feel that church community is one where you feel safe. 
The biggest roadblock tbh is age and...idk how else to put this other than status? If you’re a minor there is, unfortunately, not a lot you can do to get away from her or get her to stop - especially if you’re in a situation where she’s really your only parent. Which is sort of what I meant by status; do you have another parent or step-parent, sibling, uncle, aunt, cousin, etc  you feel you could talk to about it? 
I really wish I could recommend school guidance counselors, but I’m not altogether sure they’re equipped with the right materials to help you out there. That being said, if you have a family member that you can trust to help you find a therapist outside of school, that would also be a really good resource; whether you’re an adult still living within that contact or a minor who can’t get away at the moment, a therapist can help you come up with some coping techniques to deal with it until you can safely get away. I’d suggest looking for one who specializes in trauma or in PTSD, esp if they have c-PTSD listed (the ‘c’ is for complex, which is a proposed addition(??) to PTSD that would separate a singular traumatic event from an ongoing traumatic situation like living in war zones, being a POW, domestic violence, etc). PsychologyToday has a search function for finding accredited therapists in your area that should list their specialties, credentials, and insurance plans they take. (And if you’re asked why you need one, honestly, extrapolate on a minor issue. Like tbh you could just say body image issues.) Therapists are bound by license-revoking ethics not to tell anyone what you discuss in therapy unless you are going to hurt yourself or someone else.
[If you feel you’re being monitored too closely at home and don’t have a way to get this information at school, I suggest asking a reference librarian to help you out. A lot of public libraries will have community resource information, and if they don’t have flyers or brochures out, reference librarians’ entire jobs are to help you access information whether that’s in the library or in the community! That’s why I work in LIS, lol.]
Other than that the two big pieces of advice I have are:
Build up a support network outside your family. If you feel you can’t trust them with this, or even if you’re worried about putting them in the middle of a difficult situation - and even if those aren’t concerns for you - it’s always good to have a support network that isn’t connected to the situation in some way. Most of my support network came from friends, a bulk of whom I knew from online, and from coworkers. The first person to tell me I was being gaslit was actually a coworker, who I talked to when I got kicked out and was shaken up about it. I had a p good relationship w my boss and all my coworkers there, so when I had to put in my two weeks’ notice I actually got an offer to stay with my boss in the event that the situation escalated, and also knew I could go and stay with my one of my best friends with their grandad, or their sister. In fact, right when that happened, my friends already had a kind of escape plan half-formed because things had just kind of been getting worse, and for almost a year now I’ve been living with my other best friend. Even if things never get to the point of you having to leave the house, just having people that you can rely on who will be on your side entirely is crucial to dealing with that kind of stress.
If you think or feel you may be getting gaslit - even if you’re thinking to yourself that you’re just blowing things out of proportion or that it’s “not that bad” (a lot of us go through that) - start keeping a journal of things your mother says to you. You don’t have to show anyone. Just keep it for yourself. It doesn’t even have to be anything important; like I said earlier, it can be as simple as off-handed comments about movies you’ve watched or appointments you’ve made or what have you. Write them down when they happen, date them, and then when she says something that you feel contradicts what you’ve already heard - you can fact-check it. You can also do this with screenshots if it’s over text or something, and if you think you can get away with secretly recording her on your phone that might help too. I don’t recommend telling her you’re doing this or pointing out when she’s been lying; in the event she doesn’t outright deny it she could flip it around to make herself the victim or spiral out of control and get worse - this is just for your peace of mind. The goal of gaslighting, to quote the movie, is to “systematically [drive] you out of your mind”. This would just be a way to reassure yourself that you’re not making it up, you didn’t forget, you’re not blowing things out of proportion. 
If you need anything more specific, feel free to let me know! I’m so sorry you’re going through this, it really just fucking sucks. But I believe you can make it! And there is an it - there’s an out, even if it’s hard to get to or takes long. 
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What were you doing in 4th grade?
I’ll tell you what I was doing. I was trying to make sense of why my brother would break into 2 of my neighbors houses and steal stuff. One of those neighbors had a girl in my grade that went to the same school as me. And the other neighbors were like a second family to me. But that all changed. They didn’t want to see us anymore. The whole neighborhood knew.
This is how I found out about it: I came home from school and ran into our living room to tell my mom that I was going to play with the neighbors. My mom stopped me and sat me down. She told me that they didn’t want to see us anymore because my brother had broken into their house and stole stuff. My brother was in 7th grade at the time. My brother had a court hearing while I was in school a few weeks later. Every time I saw the other neighborhood girl at school it just reminded me what my life had become.
We were basically shunned by a big chunk of the neighborhood. Imagine that your in fourth grade and feel constantly judged wherever you go. My mom ran into family members of the neighbors at the stores and she would feel ashamed. I remember many times I caught my mom crying in the kitchen when one particular song came on the radio. She didn’t even try to hide it. One day I came home from school and saw a flash of my brother running upstairs in my mom’s bathing suit. I didn’t know what to do. I ran outside and went across the street because I knew he wasn’t allowed to go over there.
I sat on the curb crying as my brother tried to get me to go back home. Eventually I did. When my parents came home I told them what happened. I remember i smirked as I heard him getting yelled at. You know how it goes with siblings. I didn’t understand why my brother would do something like that and I still don’t. My mom started locking her bedroom door every time they left us home alone. I remember one time they told me to keep an eye on my brother. Basically babysit him. Also I lost another best friend of mine in 4th grade she switched schools and we never really talked again.
I had to deal with what was happening on my own because my parents never talked about it around me. When I would ask a question they would get angry. So I learned to stop asking questions and not tell anyone what happened. As a 4th grader I had to deal with the fact that my brother was in legal trouble and because of that my best friends didn’t want to see me anymore. And you would think that my turmoil would be over by middle school but it wasn’t.
My nighbor’s aunt was a teacher at my middle school. She knew about what went down. But thankfully she was very kind to me. I was still afraid to ask questions about what happened. But she assured me that my neighbors missed me and they wished that circumstances were different. I also made a friend in middle school and she ended up leaving the state. My grandpa (dad’s dad) accidentally ran over my grandma with a four wheeler. (She lived she just needed a back brace for a while.) then he started having back problems so he wore a back brace too.
He is an active guy so he was working in his garage when he caught fire. He ended up having 3rd and 4th degree burns on 20% of his body. Destroying the nerves. The doctors were amazed that he recovered so quickly and nicely.
This situation followed me all through high school as well. But I think I was the only who was actually still dealing with it. My parents had seemed to move on so did my brother. But I couldn’t. Because there was constant reminders in my mind. I still carried the shame and guilt. It also didn’t help that freshman year was the beginning of a whole new situation that would last a whole 5 years. My oma (moms mom) fell and had an open head injury. Let’s just say that my Oma picked on me constantly growing up. I was the only grandchild that she picked on.
It wasn’t in a loving way either. She was down right mean. Telling me I dress nicer. Behaved better. Yada yada. It got so bad at points that my mom and her would get into big arguments that ended with my mom and I leaving their house in tears.
Anyway this woman required constant care and my aunt refused to put her in a nursing home because she is a complete control freak! My mom had to go there everyday to help out. Every year it was always something new with my oma. She broke a lot of bones, had pneumonia, etc. Like seriously this woman wouldn’t die!
This meant I was home alone in the summertime before freshman year. In the same neighborhood. Thankfully God blessed me with my dog. So I didn’t feel so alone. In the middle school years I had made some new friends. But I always stopped hanging out with them. I dumped the friendship cold turkey. No warnings. No nothing...
So my mom would come home exhausted. When freshman year started she was part of the elementary school committee. The elementary school was right next to the high school. So my mom would bring me to school around 7 O’clock because her meetings started soon after. I was one of the first people in school everyday. I didn’t mind. There was a history teacher that would open up the art room for me. Sophomore year luckily one semester I had the same history teacher for first period so I would just sit in the classroom and doodle.
Junior year we got a new building. And I got my car. Now things between my mom and I weren’t good. We would get into arguments in the morning. So I started going to school early again. Also I moved in my junior year. We built a new house and it felt like it was going to be a fresh start. It was but the new neighbors didn’t like that we cut down some trees. They said that they liked their privacy. Well sorry but we don’t want trees falling on our house.
My mom was still taking care of my Oma while my aunt went to work. My mom was retired from teaching. School became my safe haven. I talked with a few of the teachers in the mornings. I considered my art teacher like a friend. I had friends my age like... 5ish but only 2 of them I actually got along with. And today I only talk to 1.
Senior year I decided I wanted to be a social worker. That didn’t pan out. I thought that once I started college that my home situation wouldn’t follow me there but it did. I had way too much on my plate and I was stressed. I became extremely suicidal. It got to the point where I would wake up in the morning and the first thing that popped into my head was to overdose. I started slacking on my classes. I stayed in my dorm room all day except when I was in class. I barely talked to anyone.
After school ended my therapist said that I should go into a temporary counseling group. So that’s what i did. It didn’t really help that much... I started working at the job I have now. I worked here in the summers as well. One summer I was extremely depressed and it took everything in me not to stop on the train tracks on the way to work everyday. Just when I was about to give up my boss put me in a different part of work because they needed a replacement for the week for the guy who was on vacation. The guy on vacation name was Marcos. And the guy who worked with him was John.
I started working over there more often and it really helped. The guys taught me how to relax with my job and worry so much. We talked about the hardships of life. John lost 3 loved ones on 911. And Marcos always has a smile on his face. I remember I started doodling on scrap paper and they loved them. I drew Marcos once and he was so happy! He was like: “John! John! Look! She drew me!” In his Hispanic accent. Marcos gave me snacks and pop even when I said that he didn’t have to do that for me.
Well, last year on July 25 I was working in a different area for a few months. (I hadn’t really talked to Marcos and John that much because I didn’t want to get in trouble with my boss.) John came up to me and asked me if I had heard about what happened to Marcos. I said I had no clue. He responded saying that Marcos committed suicide in June on the 25th. I thought he was joking because he has a dark sense of humor. So I said, that’s not funny John. He was being completely sincere... he gave me the paper with the obituary details on it.
Marcos’ step daughter accused him of molesting her when she was between the ages of 4-8. That was a lie. She did it because he told her that he couldn’t afford to buy a car for her. So she went to the police and told that lie. The truth is that he didn’t even know her until she was 11! His arrest warrant was sent out and 3 days later Marcos went home and killed himself...
I can honestly say that if it wasn’t for Marcos and John, i wouldn’t be here today. They saved my life. And knowing that I didn’t notice that Marcos was gone for a month kills me. I had no clue what was going on during that time. After I heard the news about Marcos i shut people out. I had a new coworker who was trying to get to know me and i would just shut her out for the longest time. She said that she had to keep pushing to get to the brick wall i had put up. I couldn’t handle anymore loss. I finally let her in and we became good friends. About 6 months later she stopped showing up to work. I texted her asking what was going on. She said she had quit her job because she couldn’t work third shift anymore. She said that everyday she got to work and she would start crying. Now she is a mom as well so that’s stressful enough as is.
I started training someone new for three days. We got close and talked about a lot of different things. She missed a day of work. I asked what happened and she said that her mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor that was inoperable. The doctors gave her a few months to live. She stopped coming to work after a few days and didn’t come back.
Now I’m 21, have no clue what I want to do with my life. I want to move to Hawaii and live in a van. Like I’m being serious! It is the only thing I think about my future and don’t want to kill myself. I tried finding careers that I would want to do but that got me nowhere. So I started thinking about if I could move anywhere in the world where would I move?
By the way I’m adopted from Russia when I was 3.5 years old. The first 18months of my life I was severely neglected to the point where I was too weak to even sit up. I also had a sister who was adopted by her dad. (We have different dad’s same moms) she will be 24 in September 23. I don’t know if she is alive or not. So from the get go I had abandonment issues. My birth mom and her mom are/were (don’t know if they are alive either) alcoholics.
I’m not saying that people didn’t have it worse than me because of course some do. But the victims of a crime aren’t just the people who were robbed... the family of the robber are victims too. Feel free to share your stories!
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marishmallowthings · 5 years
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It always hurts
How did I get to this point in my life? I am 25, I have fibromyalgia and smoke a ton of weed. I have a certificate to be a medical assistant, and I am working.
 If we rewind my life back to 18, I was a smart, aspiring, Nursing student. I was pretty, naturally without any piercings, and I avoided drugs. I got to a point around that age, that running 3 miles was a good workout for me, and I did not get sore afterwards. I would go for runs at midnight after my shift at subway. It was exhilarating. I was single, and sexy. I was excited about my future.
Now, I’m usually depressed. I go to work, with a feeling that most of my coworkers think I am stupid. I don’t get paid as much, and I am put with providers that have easier schedules. It is true, that this is my first job as a certified medical assistant. I have this problem, where my blood pressure is low. When I sit in one spot, my body will become too calm, and before I know it, I’m jolting awake 10 minutes later. Sometimes, embarrassingly, my coworkers will catch me and wake me up. I have definitely got in trouble for it. I could get fired for it. I swear to god, that I don’t even know when I fall asleep. The sleep doctor does not believe it is narcolepsy, which would make it my fault. But I swear it’s not. I hate that I can’t defend myself for something completely out of my control. And it's all because of fibromyalgia. 
I picked up fibromyalgia around the age of 22 or 23. All because of a boy. His name was Jones, he was a short micronesian boy. He drove trucks for work, had lots of interesting stories. But most of all he was good looking. He kept himself very clean, slicked back his dark hair, and wore tank tops to show off his arms and back. Most of all, he treated me like I was the best thing to ever happen to him. He catered to me. My name was “Princess,” in his phone, he bought me lattes and took me out in his fast, red Chevy Camaro. But then, he already was a father of 2, and his babymama asked for child support. He figured that he could sell marijuana, and keep the money without telling the government. They were going to take half his paycheck, and he paid rent. 
I was never extroverted, I grew up without siblings and enjoyed my alone time. I have social anxiety, and I am always worried about people not liking me. At first, I would sometimes go with him on deliveries. I didn’t trust this good looking guy. But after a while it got boring, and I elected to stay home. Eventually I put myself back in school for a CMA certification, so I was away M-f from 7am to 10 pm. But his extra job required him to be friendly with many people, he slept with a gun, went to parties. He was away often, and also cranky. 
He never acknowledged my feelings, he would just get annoyed and make me deal with it. Most of the time it was him disrespecting me and my feelings, and ignoring it didn’t help. I’d often walk away or choose not to spend time with him. That made him upset because I didn’t tell him where I was going. I just wanted him to pay attention to me in the first place. He also wanted me to act a certain way around his friends and customers so he could be successful. I remember in the cold winter months, some nights I was so upset I slept in my car. When I’m depressed I lose all care about my body. I remember having panic attacks at his parties and everyone thought I was crazy. I remember cowering from him, he would yell at m, tell me how I needed to change.
This really took a toll on me but I had no idea. One morning I woke up, and my joints hurt so bad. I thought it was a cold or something, but it came back every morning. I started smoking some flower just to get some relief. I was tired, my brain didn’t seem as quick. I went to the doctor and it took them months of testing to figure it out, because fibromyalgia is not easy to diagnose. I was on steroids, getting MRI’s and CT’s. Everything came out normal. Finally, I was given some lyrica, to see if it helped. And sure enough it did. My final diagnosis was fibromyalgia.
The thing about fibromyalgia, is it is caused by trauma. It can be mental or physical. All the yelling and panic attacks he caused, was enough trauma to get me sick, Chronically. Chronically sick because of a dumb 22 year old  boy who broke my heart. Now I deal with the consistent fatigue that lingers, making me more lazy. The pain every morning that never stops hurting. May be I’m not as brilliant as I used to be. I can’t be blamed for being depressed, after getting this sickness from a boy I was not even with for a year. Every day is pain now, it really is a sad thing. I try to get so high to not feel anything, that is relief. Intaking so much marijuana that I’m only kinda here. That I don’t have to think about how dumb I am, or what I have become. The bottoms of my feet, legs and fingertips go numb normally now, I don’t sleep without melatonin, and my joints usually hurt. My nervous system is messed up. 
I didn���t know I was being abused, until Sharon told me so. Sharon helped me with my psych problems. She told me some of the most important words I have ever heard, “It wasn’t your fault 
Marissa.” Narcissists know just how to reel people in, so that they can manipulate them later. But why didn’t I leave? Stolkholm syndrome. I had been living alone for a while, and he distanced me from family and friends. He didn’t like my mother, he believed that she didn’t like him. After that came the Body dysmorphic disorder, social anxiety, PTSD, excoriation disorder and depression. It took months to work through and sort all the thoughts in my brain. Writing this  story is a way to keep it straight too. This all happened chronologically.  
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thelastspeecher · 6 years
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A while back, I started writing the scene in the Superhero/villain AU where Stan meets Pa McGucket, bc I love writing villainous Pa McGucket so much.  I never got around to finishing the scene, though.
...Until today.  Enjoy.
              Stan opened the door to Angie’s hospital room.  He proudly held up the cup of water he’d been sent to get.
              “Took me a while, Ang, but I-”  The words died in his throat.  While he’d been gone, Angie’s family had arrived.  Both of her parents and all five of her older siblings were crowded around her bed, cooing over the newborns.  Stan recognized Angie’s mom, Sally, her older brother Fiddleford, and her twin, Lute, but the others were strangers.  Angie smiled weakly at him.
              “Stan, this is my fam’ly.”  Stan nodded. “You’ve met my ma.”  Stan nodded again.  “My pa’s the one holdin’ Danny.”  The middle-aged man who had Danny nestled in his arms scowled at Stan. He looked eerily like Lute, a fact that didn’t ease Stan’s nerves.  Lute was very explicit about his less-than-charitable feelings towards Stan. “Basstian is-” Angie continued. Her father put a hand on her shoulder.
              “Junebug, why don’t ya wait on the introductions,” he said smoothly.  He handed Danny to his wife.  “I want to have a talk with Stan, first.”
              “Oh- okay,” Angie stammered.  “Sorry,” she mouthed at Stan.  Mr. McGucket marched over to Stan, grabbed his shoulder, and shoved him out into the hallway.  Stan’s brain kicked into overdrive at the display of aggression.
              Okay, his power is plants, right? He can control them?  Yeah, that’s what Angie said.  Mr. McGucket dragged him to an isolated corner.  And his name.  What’s his name?  It’s somethin’ weird.  Mr. McGucket crossed his arms.
              “Explain yourself,” he snarled.  Stan held up his hands placatingly.
              “Look, Mearl, I-”
              “It’s Mr. McGucket to you, boy,” Mr. McGucket spat.  A nearby potted plant sprouted a few new leaves.
              Yep.  His power is plants.
              “You’ve got some nerve,” Mr. McGucket continued.  “Gettin’ my daughter pregnant, weaslin’ yer way into her life, and then not even gettin’ her to the hospital in time to give birth.”
              “Hey, I’m pissed about that, too,” Stan shot back.  “I didn’t want my brother to deliver my kids.  But Lute didn’t believe me when I said Angie was in labor.”  Mr. McGucket seemed taken aback.
              “Lute’s fault?  Is that so?”
              “Yes!  My brother’s doctorate isn’t in medicine, why the hell would I want him involved when my kids were born?  Angie and I had a plan.  I would fly her to the hospital since she couldn’t fly and there was construction. But my coworkers called and insisted that I come help, and I couldn’t get out of it.  Angie was still barely in labor, so I thought I would be back in time, but then things started happening fast, and like I said, Lute didn’t believe me, and by the time I got back home, I missed the birth of my daughters.”  The words tumbled out of Stan like they tended to around Angie’s disapproving relatives.  Stan caught his breath.  He waited for Mr. McGucket to respond.
              “Hmph.”  Mr. McGucket took off his glasses and idly polished them with his shirt, a carefully neutral expression on his face.  “That’s a fair point, that ya missed yer daughters’ birth.  From what I’ve heard ‘bout ya, from both my wife and my daughter, that’s not somethin’ you wanted one whit.”
              “No.  I wanted to be there.”
              “Mm-hmm.  And Lute does have a tendency to not listen to folks if he don’t like ‘em.”  Mr. McGucket put his glasses back on.  “Stan, I’m goin’ to ask ya a few questions now, and ya need to be truthful when ya answer ‘em, okay?”
              “I was gonna tell the truth anyways.”  Mr. McGucket scowled.  “…Yes, I’ll be honest.”
              “Good.  The first question I have for ya regards yer…career.”
              “Okay.”
              “If, fer some reason, somethin’ happened that made it impossible fer you to continue yer hero work unless you cut off contact with Angie and the kids, would ya stop bein’ a hero?”
              “Yes,” Stan said immediately.  Mr. McGucket raised an eyebrow.  “I- I’ve actually thought about that.  If the only way I could take care of Angie and my daughters was to stop being a hero and cut off all my ties with my squad, I wouldn’t even think about it. I’d just do it.”  Mr. McGucket nodded slightly.
              “I’m glad to hear that.  Now, would ya ever try to make Angie switch sides, or raise yer daughters to be heroes?”
              “No.  Angie’s too proud of her heritage.  All I’d do by trying to get her to become a hero is push her away.  And we agreed that we’ll raise the girls neutrally, so that they can choose which side they want to fight for when they’re old enough.”
              “Excellent.”  Mr. McGucket crossed his arms.  He leaned forward.  “You seem to be pretty fam’ly-oriented, boy.  My daughter said yer mother is a hero?”
              “Yeah.  Retired, but, yeah.  She’s why I got into the hero game.”
              “Hmm.  Would she ever be a concern?”
              “Angie and I haven’t told her that Angie’s a villain, if that’s what you’re asking.”
              “Yes, it is what I’m askin’.”  Mr. McGucket narrowed his eyes.  “And yer father?”
              “Out of the picture.”
              “Really?”
              “He kicked me outta the house before I was eighteen,” Stan said.  Mr. McGucket leaned back, clearly thrown off-guard.  “Not all of my scars are from fighting villains.” Mr. McGucket’s eyes widened.
              “Pardon?”
              “You heard me,” Stan mumbled, abruptly realizing he had accidentally shared information even Angie didn’t know.  He looked away.
              Why did I say that?
              “Stanley, what I just heard ya say was that yer father abused you,” Mr. McGucket said in a low voice.  “Is that correct?”  After a moment, Stan nodded reluctantly.  “Goodness gracious.”  Stan looked back at Mr. McGucket.  Mr. McGucket shook his head.  “That ain’t right.”  Stan remembered a conversation he’d had with Angie a month ago.
              “I’m just sayin’,” Stan said, handing Angie a sandwich on a plate, “you don’t really seem like a villain.”
              “You need to widen yer narrow-minded view of the world,” Angie said, shaking her head.  She rested the plate on top of her large baby bump.  “I’m a villain, through and through.  Always have been.”
              “But I’ve seen how you and Lute fight.  You never hurt civilians.  You only target places that can handle it.  And I’ve never seen you guys get involved in any of the really bad scenes, like drugs.”
              “That’s how we were raised,” Angie said with a shrug. “My folks aren’t traditional villains. Sure, we break the law.  Sure, we’ve infiltrated high levels of government before. But we don’t hurt those who are already hurtin’.  We only injure those who get in our way.  We don’t get our kicks from punchin’ homeless people.  My siblin’s ‘n myself, we were raised with strong moral compasses.  A sense of right and wrong.”
              “You still break the law.”
              “You said you noticed we never target mom ‘n pop stores,” Angie shot back.  “Like I said, we go after people what can take a beating.”
              “Yeah, but-”
              “And if you want to talk ‘bout right and wrong,” Angie interrupted, “how ‘bout we discuss the heroes that kick out their kids? Not all villains come from villainous fam’lies.  There are plenty of villains who were disowned by their hero parents fer not goin’ into heroism, or fer bein’ gay, or fer bein’ a dif’rent gender than they were given at birth.  There’s nothin’ right about that.  But the heroes get away with it.  ‘Cause they’re the ‘good guys’.”
              “How- how do you know that happens?”
              “I’ve met ‘em.  My fam’ly hosted a lot of runaways and homeless teens when I was growin’ up.”  Angie picked at her sandwich absentmindedly.  “My folks, they told us, ‘See?  This is what happens.  Heroes only accept those that fit their narrow views of what is right and what is good. Remember that we’re better than the heroes, ‘cause we accept everyone.’”
              “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Mr. McGucket said, drawing Stan out of the memory.  Stan stared at him in astonishment.  “No child should have to grow up in a household where a parent lays a hand on ‘em.”
              “I mean…yeah.  It sucked.” Mr. McGucket nodded somberly.  “But it also made me determined to do better than him.  To be better than him.  I tracked Angie down when I realized she was pregnant with my kid because I always wanted to be a better dad than mine was.”  Mr. McGucket smiled.
              “Yer a good guy, Stanley.  And I don’t mean that in the sense of how ya fight my children.  I mean that in the sense of what’s inside you.”  Stan opened and closed his mouth silently.  “I’ve known a lot of heroes who were bad guys. Took in some of their children, actually.  There’s too many people what have only known a home filled with anger and bruises.  I wanted them to experience one filled with love and warmth.”  Mr. McGucket looked off into the distance, his eyes misty.  “I’ve spent plenty of time interactin’ with heroes and villains. I know there’s no true moral consensus between all members of each side.  There’s bad folks who are heroes, good folks who are villains, and, like some of my former coworkers, bad folks who are villains.  Ya can’t trust what someone is like based on what side they’re on. Ya have to judge ‘em yourself.” Mr. McGucket patted Stan on the shoulder.  “If my daughter had to get involved with a hero, at least she got involved with one of the good ones.”  His smile was fatherly, his gray eyes twinkled with warmth.
              “Th-thanks.  Mr. McGucket.”
              “Don’t mention it.”  Mr. McGucket’s gaze hardened.  “But you listen, and you listen good.  If you ever so much as look wrong at my daughter or my grandchildren, you’ll be feedin’ the worms in my garden so fast it’ll make yer head spin.”  Mr. McGucket paused thoughtfully.  “Actually, yer head wouldn’t spin.  Muscles tend to freeze up upon death.”  He let out a chortle.  Stan’s blood ran cold.
              “I- I almost forgot for a second that you were a villain,” Stan confessed. Mr. McGucket laughed again.  He squeezed Stan’s shoulder painfully.
              “It wouldn’t be in yer best interests to forget that again,” he hissed. Stan nodded jerkily.  “Good.  Now, let’s head back to the room, and you can meet the rest of the fam’ly.”
              “Can’t wait,” Stan mumbled.
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tea-and-toblerones · 6 years
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0-44😈
GO BIG OR GO HOME EH? Alright here we go0- Height: 5' 5"1- Age: 252- Shoe size: 8.53- Do you smoke: Vape. Like a proper hipster.4- Do you drink: Not as often as people think.5- Do you take drugs: My mind is weird enough as is.6- Age you get mistaken for: anywhere from highschool to 26, 27.7- Have tattoos: yes8- Want tattoos: yes9- Got piercings: yes10- Want piercings : yes11- Best Friends: my doubts12- Relationship Status: I don't have to worry about my left overs being eaten. 13- Biggest turn on: eyes, good laugh, sense of humor14- Biggest turn off: arrogance15- Favorite movie: Howl's Moving Castle16- I'll love you if: You make me feel important17- Someone I miss: My gramma18- Most Traumatic Experience: Life19- Fact about your personality: A respectful rebel.20- What I hate most about myself: I take everything personally21- What do I love most about myself: I can make people feel better sometimes.22- What do I want to be when I'm older: Kind23- Relationship with my siblings: Imaginary24- Relationship with my parents: Mom, great, Dad, almost nonexistent25- Idea of a perfect date: Its more about who you're with. The right person can make anything perfect.26- Biggest Pet Peeve: flakiness.27- Description of a boy/girl I like: I have no real life crushes. But celebwise, smol bean with mocha eyes and the cutest smile. 28- Description of the person you dislike the most: big ball of negativity.29- Reason I've lied to a friend: to spare feelings30- What I hate most about work/school: Nothing. I'm thankful for my job and coworkers.31- What my last text message say: I've told you this before, it's nothing new.32- What words upset me the most: any used to hurt or tear down another.33- What words help me feel best about myself: I appreciate you, you've help me. Etc.34- What I find attractive in a woman: sense of self, cute smile, laugh, not taking themselves seriously. 35- What I find attractive in a man: the same.36- Where would I like to live: Anywhere I feel at home37- One of my Insecurities: my anxiety. My uncertainty.38- My childhood career choice: Power Ranger, Warrior Princess39- Favorite ice cream flavor: Moose Tracks40- Who I wish I could be: The best version of myself.41- Where I want to be right now: Here.42- The last thing I ate: Chocolate43- Sexiest person that comes to mind right now: Josh Dun.44- Random fact about anything: Log surfing is a thing. You shouldn't do it.
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amma-af · 4 years
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mid-life crisis fast approaching lmao.
bruh moesha made 30 seem hella old. im freaking 29, im definitely not old.
do all 30 year olds feel this? is this fucking cliche? is this what being a millenial feels like?
freaking. andell seems like she should be at least 45 shes had a business forever, she looks oldish, hella independent with ehr own moneey, yeah she keeps getting played by her lover but the d is probably great and she doesn’t need “love” bc she’s not dependent on it for basic necessities. but she needs love so she has hope. she’s woke but understanding when someone who doesn’t understand yet. she supports the kids but says it like it is. i can def see some bits of myself in her but bruh, at least 35? bc im 29 and 1 im not as independent, and 2, im def not as old.
but i also kind of get how shes a 30 year old but do 30 year olds get the respect of older people? does andell get respect from older people? idk man tv makes teens look like 20-something and 30 eyar olds look like my mom. dee hangs with andell, she’s def not 30. but then again we hang with older people, no?
are 30 year olds friends-ish with teens and like older folks all at once a millenial thing? i mean i def have older friends bc of work, and hang with my siblings who are a generation older and as a teacher i talk to kids who are teens but i wouldn’t be friends with them? unless you consider my nieces and nephews, and some much younger coworkers.
but if im “superior” to them in some way im basically a mentor and ugh. maybe andell is 30.
that same moesha episode has gotten me thinking about highschool. and what a fucking shitfest it was. i mean, why the hell was i so pressed instead of just being a fucking kid? like, i def ended up where i wanted to and realized it sucked even more (college), esp the way i did it initially, but once i got over the fucking ivory tower and american dream bc i reallized it was never made to include me to a certain extent (the whole identity crisis over foreclosure of identity from the every day--being unwanted by the same thing interpellating its allegiance to you, how all that crap felt of being a --insert almost every pressed identity grouping here-- at a fucking --insert ever agrandized fucking included, repressive identity force here--insitution. high school wasn’t bougie enough i think. like everyone was like closer to the ground class wise so maybe it didnt feel like a big enough ocean yet. a friend told me post highschool or maybe at graduation that im going to be the big fish in the little pond trying to swim in the ocean or some quote like that. fucking i was, if not socially which i honestly didnt even try and fucking got ostracized from anyway, def on top academically and fucking TEACHERS were trying to push me down but like i still got to exactly where i wanted to go. and i fucking had a wonderful time there. got kicked out but became a whole ass human being who found so many homes with people and so many loving arms and caring friends and fucking insane moments and memories and fucking became who i am today--a fucking cool as andell like adult with a full and complete social life if not financial or career life like im ok dude. ive accomplished enough even if capitalist might make me feel like i havent accomplished anything. much like the racist ass teachers made me feel and the racist ass kids made me feel about being smart in a fucking shitfest and where the other brown kids were just in competition with me. i had no friends. i lie, i had a few. and i had the respect of a few. and i guess that makes like maybe a dozen people--hold on let me count, i think 9 people, that im cool with from high school, 3 who are close to me, 1 who fucking hates me post-college life and would try to talk shit or ruin me maybe but i miss her and we were fucking close at some point. and then a bunch of people who probably dont give a shit no longer bc we’re all adults who need to move on with our lives. i hope theyre not petty and hate me just bc of high school.
i wonder if any respect me now lol. aside from those i know, do any of them like feel bad kind of for not being a better person to me? maybe i was a bitch too though. but thats only bc i was lowkey power hungry and just wanted to get into fucking the college of my dreams and had been fed that academic success led to fianncial success and overall joy de vivre  or however oyu fucking spell it.
id still be down to be friends with whoever wants but dont have the time or energy to deal with the pettiness. i think this year was supposed to be our 10 yr reunion and idk if theyll do it bc of covid or not but fucking would i even wanna go? im still so traumatized from it idk if id wanna be judged that hard again.
fucking, i wish i was chiller back then. had realized i could be creative and look good and be more confident if i wanted to. but i guess i wouldnt be who i am had that shit not happened but i also suffer from extreme anxiety adn depression now so like maybe, people could ease up on the judgement and hatred and constant barriers and shit talking and like, lowkey bullying down a notch. these white and white washed brown kids had me fucked up.
i wish i had just like, been able to chill and be accepted a little more. but i wish the people who were chill with me couldve been more  comfortable or confident in being who they were. 
i remember ending freshman year, confident that i would have friends at the end of high school sitting between the coolest and queerest two people i could imagine showing off my hot pink ipod 3G or whatever. and then hanging out in the city with a few people on the last day. i dont even remember what we did. maybe olive garden in times square? it was def times square. the big toys r us in the city with the dance dance revolution. who the fuck were the people with us? was that even freshman year or is that a memory from some other time? i dotn fucking remember much of the good times in high school anymore. more shitty times.
but fucking, if people had been loyal would i have been a diff person? def s j and j and then later n but w during the first year and d all hugn out with me in college. and made freshman year bareable and some sitll continue to make life bareable and for me to feel loved in this day adn age adn i know the freindshipsare genuine now but i wonder if id have more people from high school as my friends just bc i fucking get attached to people bc of the whole empathy thing and like we knew eachother for good chunks of our lives, we should keep up with eachother and make sure we’re ok. but also like, did we even show care back then?
i wish id lived the teen life a little more though. like my husband did. like so many of my more normal than me feeling friends did but i wonder how many of my college friends actually liked their high school years lmao.
fucking. whatever. i probably wouldnt go to the reunion if it happened tho, fucking miss me with that shit.
andell is cool. she didnt get mad at moesha for missing her party since hs ehad a great time on her birthday thanks to her, and instead was proud that she put out a good newspaper. im def like, maybe if aliha missed my party id be happy and proud of her for her acocmplioshed but id still be pouty adn idk if that makes me much younger tahn andell or if thats just the whiny cancer gemini in me.
omg we need andells chart to udnerstand if she’s actually 30 lmao and just mature for her own age or if that show is trippig about depicting her as 30 bc shes def oldr. wonder how old the actress was.
thats an easy google fix but im just gonna keep watching and pondering lmao.
man there were some teachers at that fucking school who did not wanna see me succeed in life. and to have your advisor be that teacher really fucks with you. what a fucking bitch i think she hated me. the other people im friends with loved her tho but i think she was really just a racist. she pushed me hard but made things harder for me for no reason. thank god i got out of there in one piece, and with some confidence left in me. 
i need to go to therapy again fuck. 
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exxar1 · 4 years
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Episode 3: “The Unexamined Life” Part 2
10/25/2020
This blog entry was supposed to be a direct continuation of the last one. I was going to continue the therapy session but, instead of Patrick Stewart and Chris Evans, it would be God sitting in the armchair across from the couch. He would be played by Morgan Freeman, of course, but not because he did actually play the role of God in “Bruce Almighty”. I’ve always thought of Morgan Freeman as that wise, curmudgeonly old grandfather who’s always nearby when you need a peppermint or some necessary advice. He seems genuinely loving, patient and kind, but he won’t put up with any of your bullshit either. He’ll gladly listen to all your complaining and ranting, nodding every once in awhile and giving an affirmative “uh-huh”, then tell you exactly what he thinks, whether you like it or not, and then send you on your way with a fresh cup of coffee and a maple bar.
But, after some consideration, I decided to nix the whole therapy scene, and just get to the point. There is such a thing in the writer’s room as running a metaphor – or an idea – into the ground, and this seemed like a perfect example of that. In the last couple weeks since I wrote Part 1, I’ve been thinking about what I wrote, and I realized I needed to start this episode by clarifying a couple things.
1. My relationship with my parents and my brothers is very good. In fact, we as a family are very close, and that’s something I have treasured for many years. Yes, we have our issues and our share of dysfunction, just like any other family. But I also feel that our family is a bit different from most other adult families in that we all genuinely love one another and we sincerely look forward to those times when we are all together in person. I have never understood why so many of my friends, colleagues, coworkers and/or acquaintances over the years have dreaded the holidays. They have complained to me on various occasions that they really aren’t looking forward to Thanksgiving or Christmas because they have to spend time with their parents or siblings whom they don’t get along with.
I have never experienced this. Thanksgiving and Christmas are my favorite times of the year. I look forward to going home to spend time with my parents, my brothers, their wives, and all my nieces and nephews. We have a wonderful time, and yes, there have been one or two years where some of us had some arguments and/or minor disagreements over this or that. But we never allowed those conflicts to interfere with our time together, and we always came back from those times stronger as a family and celebrating our love for God and for one another.
My parents, in particular, have always set an example for us boys of what God’s love should be towards not only one another but the world as well. They taught us what it meant to be a good citizen in the world, and how to properly love and respect those that we meet in our travels through this life. They taught us right from wrong, and I know that I wouldn’t be the person I am today without having grown up in a loving, Christian home. Yes, my childhood was filled with a lot of conflict – mainly between me and my brothers. I also fought with my parents as a teenager over the typical adolescent stuff – music, TV, church, rules, curfews, etc. etc. All of this is normal for any family and also a standard part of growing up. What made it unique for me was struggling with my homosexuality as a teenager and not being able to talk about that with anyone in my family, my friends or my church. In retrospect, I think that if I’d had someone I could have gone to and opened up with about my struggle, I wouldn’t have had such a difficult adolescence.
The main reason I feel a need to clarify this right now is because I don’t want you, the reader, to think that I still resent my parents – or my father in particular – for what was said or done regarding this issue when I was a kid. That line from my father about homosexuals was used to illustrate a point, but I don’t think he feels that strongly about it today. I will admit that he and I have never directly discussed this, but I know that both my parents have always loved and accepted me, no matter what. They still do. In fact, the two of them could teach a thing or two to many other parents of gays and lesbians of my generation about what it means to truly accept your child even though you believe that their sexual preference and/or lifestyle choice is not in line with God’s will.
The same goes for my brothers. I love them more than life itself, and I would gladly give my own life for theirs without a second thought, if necessary. One of my very few, genuine regrets in my life thus far is how terribly and cruelly I treated my brothers when I was a teenager. I should have been a friend and a mentor to them, especially Chad and Caleb, but I wasn’t. I constantly told them how I wished I had been an only child, and I was always mocking and making fun of all three of them every chance I got. My teen years, especially, were rather harsh for all four of us, as I lashed out at my brothers with all my own hurt and pain at not fitting in at school and not being able to share with anyone my struggle over my own sexuality.
But, thank God, in the years following high school, as all of us became adults and made our own ways in the world, the loving home that our parents had created for us seeped into our hearts and our souls, taking root there in ways none of us ever realized. The four of us eventually reconnected as adults, little bits here and there over time, until we came back together as close as any brothers could ever be. I can’t even tell you exactly how or where this transformation took place. It was just many little things over time – text messages, emails, phone calls, spending time together during the holidays, etc. There was also other major life events such as weddings, having kids, getting divorced and remarried, graduating college, and just life in general. All of these things have a way of reminding one how important a family is and, especially, not to take it for granted. I have met many different people in my time in this world – my short time in the Army, from college, and from my many different jobs – and it never ceases to amaze or humble me when I have learned that many of those people did not have it as good as I did when I was a kid. Many of them hate their parents and haven’t spoken to them in years. Same for their siblings. Some have been through divorce and never see their own kids, while others grew up as the only child and they’ve told me how lonely that is.
So, to sum up this point, I treasure my family as the greatest gift God has given me, and I don’t want them – or you – to come away from this blog thinking otherwise. :-)
2. In that same vein, I also became close friends with most of those classmates who did tease and make fun of me when were in elementary school. And while they weren’t so cruel and mean in junior high and high school, I didn’t make it easy for them to like me when I was a teenager. I did cause a lot of my own troubles because of my social awkwardness and my painful attempts to fit in with the “cool kids”. As I stated in the last episode, I did eventually realize that I needed to stop trying so hard and just do my own thing. Once that happened, somewhere in my sophomore year, if I recall correctly, everything else kind of just fell into place, and those other nine people in my graduating class are still friends with me today. (We just had our 20 year reunion, in fact, three years ago.)
And now, to the main point of this week’s episode: I’ve been thinking about why I’ve been feeling so lonely now, at this point in my adult life, and how that relates to what I experienced in my adolescence. One of the realizations I came to three weeks ago was that because of all the teasing, the bullying, and the social anxiety that I experienced as a young kid and, later, as an adolescent, I built a wall about myself to protect me from the pain and anger at not fitting in. And again, that conclusion seems rather obvious now, but it hadn’t been obvious to me all these years. Or maybe I had been aware of it on a subconscious level all this time, but only now did I decide to finally address it directly.
Whatever the case, that realization also led to another one: I have had no interest in a romantic relationship with anyone because it means I would have to let someone inside the wall. There’s probably other reasons for why I’ve never been interested in getting a boyfriend, but that’s probably the main one. And when I was young, I was fine with this. As I said before, that decision in high school to stop trying so hard to fit in and just do my own thing has served me quite well all these years. And I believe that I have been truly happy being on my own. I have never felt like I needed another person to complete me. I have always felt whole and complete in and of myself.
But here’s the funny thing about getting older, and this is a realization that I came to just in the last few days. For the last couple months or so, I have been driving myself crazy trying to figure out why not being in a relationship is suddenly bothering me so much. And then, in the last couple days, it finally hit me: I am not the same man now that I was when I made that decision 20 years ago.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: well, duh. 20 years has passed. Of course you’re not the same person you were back then.
Yes, I hear you, but now let me explain. One feature of aging that no one has ever told me about is that you start questioning and re-thinking a lot of desires, passions, beliefs and/or commitments that you had, until now, pretty much taken for granted. My desire to live life as a professionally single person is a perfect example of this. When I was in college, I had more fun just playing the field and not making a commitment to any one person. That’s typical for every young person, no matter your sexual preference. But, at some point in our mid to late twenties, most of us end up meeting that one guy or girl who causes us to rethink our position on the whole “professionally single” issue. We fall madly in love, in other words, and we then realize we don’t want to spend the rest of our lives alone.
That never happened for me. I have never, in my whole life, even up to the present, ever met that one guy who has completely turned my world upside down. The subject of almost every rock anthem and pop diva love song has never happened to me. I have no clue what falling in love actually feels like. I have heard it discussed and described many times by friends and family. I have sung along to many great  love songs and anthems by every major recording artist since Elvis Presley. I have read and discussed the love poetry and sonnets of the many greats in classical western literature in many of my English courses throughout my academic career. I have watched several of the greats of the romantic comedy category at Blockbuster over the years, and while most of them are terrible, there are a few that I still have in my own DVD library that I have occasionally pulled out to reminisce with.
But I have never, ever in my whole life ever been “twitterpated” as goes the classic line from Bambi. And that’s never been a problem for me. I never cared. In fact, I considered it a strength. I have never had to waste money on flowers, candy, jewelry, romantic weekend getaways, or any of the other crap that boyfriends and girlfriends spend on each other just for the chance at maybe getting laid. If I ever got horny enough, all I’ve needed to do is text one of the few regulars in my phone book. Sex without any of the trappings of a relationship has always been the best kind of sex in my book. Nor have I had to deal with any of the drama that comes with a relationship. All that fighting, then compromising, then forgiveness, and then repeating that process over and over has never been my cup of tea. In fact, I’ve never understood why a relationship was worth all that trouble in the first place.
But, once again, we’re back at the present, and I’m now 42 years old. And, for some reason, I’m looking around at all the people in my life – and on social media – that are happily married and/or in a relationship, and, all of sudden, that just drives me fucking crazy. And maybe, on a subconscious level, this is why I created a profile on Tinder back in June. As you’ll recall from episode 2, “Alfred” (not his real name) and I hit it off pretty well, and we had a pretty good first date, to boot. And things seemed to go pretty well up until a month ago when he suddenly ghosted me. Or, maybe, I ghosted him first. In any case, it appears to have been mutual, and now I’m even more annoyed than before at being single.
Which brings me to that big revelation I alluded to earlier about aging. I just recently realized how much we change throughout our adult lives as we get older. Those passions and desires and things that interest us and consume our time when we’re in our twenties are not necessarily the same passions, desires, and things that we care about in our forties, or our fifties, or our sixties. We as people are not just flesh and blood. We are conscious, thinking, emotional, intellectual human beings, and the parts of us that make us who we are are those passions, desires, interests, and things that we care about. It’s what makes you you.
Some of those qualities can be defined as hobbies or interests, the things that we do in our spare time or what we’re passionate about in life. The fact that I have always been a science fiction fan, for example, or my writing. Other qualities can be emotional, or intellectual, or parts of us that aren’t necessarily physical. The fact that I’m gay, for example; or that I love to read, or that I’m an introvert, or that I once used to be an Atheist.
In other words, those things that make up who we are as an individual human being, that define us to the world and to other people around us, are not always constant or unchanging. And that’s what I had never realized until now. I have always been happy living my life on my own, by my own terms, and I found peace in being alone. I have never felt the need to have that “special someone” in my life, but now, for reasons I cannot explain, I’m no longer content with that. I think this is why so many people at this point in their mid-lives have a crisis. They buy a new car or get divorced or change careers. Perhaps my loneliness is nothing more than a mid-life crisis?
Maybe. I think that’s oversimplifying it a bit, but it does make a kind of sense. I’ve been questioning everything else in my life – and the world around me – at this point, why not this?
And maybe this does have something to do with my recent religious conversion. Does God no longer want me to be single? Does he have someone in mind to be my companion? I don’t know. I’m still exploring my new relationship with God, so I can’t really say for sure at this point.
What I will say for sure is this: I am NOT going to find that special someone online. I am done with all the dating apps and websites. They’re a waste of time. For now, I have made some peace with being single. It doesn’t bother me as much as it did a few weeks ago. So I’m not in a hurry to meet that “special guy”. If it does happen, though, we’ll end up meeting in real life, face to face. Which means that my only opportunity for this is at work, because I have no social life.
That’s it for now, folks. Once again, I wrote far more than I planned, but this feels good. And if you’ve read all of this, and if it’s helped you in some way, then I’m glad.
Until next time…
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5sos-aka-life · 4 years
Note
i’m gonna be a massive dick and ask: 1-100
HAHAHAH alright well here we go then. Also thank you from saving me from the world’s most boring lecture rn.
Everything will be under a read more inorder to save people’s dash but feel free to learn more about me haha.
1. The meaning behind my url: 
I feel like its kinda self explanatory. I made this back when I was a giant 5sos fan and I’m too lazy to change it and idk what I would change it to if I did. I might soon though.
2. A picture of me:
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3. How many tattoos i have and what they are:
I have 1 tattoo currently and it’s a pinky promise. I got it with a former friend. I have a couple more planned I just need money for them.
4. Last time i cried and why:
Like 2 weeks ago because I miss social interaction.
5. Piercings i have:
I have my ears pierced but never wear earrings, I have another set of piercings and I used to have my nose pierced but it got ripped out at work one day. Do not reccommend it hurt like a bitch.
6. Favorite band:
Not a band per say but I’ve really been into Tones and I lately, specifically never felt the rain.
7. Biggest turn offs:
Definitely not being motivated. I am very driven and like for sure have goals that I am working towards and want to achieve and when someone just has no goals (even small ones) makes me feel like I’m dragging them along and acting as their mother almost. Also people who can’t keep a conversation, like I’m not really one for small talk like I’d rather talk about the mysteries of the universe you know.
8. Top 5 (insert subject):
You didn’t provide a subject so I’m just gonna say songs:
Never felt the rain - Tones and I
Is everybody going crazy? - Nothing but thieves
Complainer - Cold War Kids
Trampoline - Shaed
Don’t stop me now - Queen (permanently in top 5)
9. Tattoos i want:
I have several lined up. My next is going to be a crow with some minimalist geometric lining in the back and some hydrangeas and delphiniums around it on my forearm. Next I’m going to get a small snapdragon along the outside of my forearm. Then I want to get my thigh pieces done one will be a watercolor tree and the other will be watercolor mountains and it’ll have some quotes underneath them.
10. Biggest turn ons:
I like assertive people who aren’t dickheads. 
11. Age:
22
12. Ideas of a perfect date:
I’m super easy to please so pretty much any place where we can actually do something because i find that that helps break through the awkwardness of dates.
13. Life goal:
To buy my mom a house and live close to my family
14. Piercings i want:
My nose repierced, maybe like a double nose piercing idk yet.
15. Relationship status:
Happily single 
16. Favorite movie:
Grave of Fireflies
17. A fact about my life:
hmmm I have like 7 siblings.
18. Phobia:
Bugs and spiders, the idea of the feeling of them walking on me freaks me out.
19. Middle name:
McKenna
20. Height:
5′4″
21. Are you a virgin?
Nope 
22. What’s your shoe size?
women’s 8, men’s 6
23. What’s your sexual orientation?
Tbh still figuring that out but pansexual
24. Do you smoke, drink, or take any drugs?
I drink occasionally but not very often
25. Someone you miss:
my awesome coworkers rn
26. What’s one thing you regret?
Not taking time to focus on myself earlier than I did
27. First celebrity you think of when someone says attractive:
Kate McKinnon
28. Favorite ice cream?
Cheesecake or honeycomb toffee
29. One insecurity:
My body shape/size
30. What my last text message says:
“Most likely yes. I know Steven was walking his dog through the park by himself and a cop was giving him shit for it”
31. Have you ever taken a picture naked?
Ooof yeah
32. Have you ever painted your room?
Yeah my childhood room at both parents house and then i had to change rooms immediately after at one and the eother moved houses.
33. Have you ever kissed a member of the same sex?
Yup!
34. Have you ever slept naked?
Not fully i don’t think
35. Have you ever danced in front of your mirror?
Of course!
36. Have you ever had a crush?
hahaha unfortunately yeah
37. Have you ever been dumped?
Yeah pretty even with the dumped/dumping ratio
38. Have you ever stole money from a friend?
No, if anything i give my friends all my money if they need it
39. Have you ever gotten in a car with people you just met?
Like only people I just me? No. With people that I also know? yeah
40. Have you ever been in a fist fight?
Nah never gotten to that point
41. Have you ever snuck out of your house?
No but I have lied about where I’m going/doing.
42. Have you ever had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back?
Ooof yeah I have
43. Have you ever been arrested?
Nope and I’m trying to keep it that way
44. Have you ever made out with a stranger?
Yeah, it wasn’t very good though
45. Have you ever met up with a member of the opposite sex somewhere?
Yeah for like dates or hangouts
46. Have you ever left your house without telling your parents?
Yeah, it didn’t go over too well but it was several years ago
47. Have you ever had a crush on your neighbor?
Nah all of my neighbors have been way younger than me or like 70
48. Have you ever ditched school to do something more fun?
Yeah I do it with college all the time haha
49. Have you ever slept in a bed with a member of the same sex?
Yeah mostly platonically though
50. Have you ever seen someone die?
No and I’m glad that I haven’t
51. Have you ever been on a plane?
Yeah a ton actually
52. Have you ever kissed a picture?
I’m sure I have in my cringey teenage phase.
53. Have you ever slept in until 3?
Not quite that late as I’m a relatively early riser, the lastest I’ve slept in is like 1
54. Have you ever loved someone or miss someone right now?
I’ve loved people yeah but I don’t miss anyone in that way rn. Like every relationship has ended for a reason.
55. Have you ever laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by?
Yeah it’s a really relaxing thing to do
56. Have you ever made a snow angel?
Yeah but not a huge fan of it cuz i don’t like the cold
57. Have you ever played dress up?
Yeah I’m pretty sure most young girls do
58. Have you ever cheated while playing a game?
Yeah I’m sure I have
59. Have you ever been lonely?
Yeah but I like to try to move past it and not fixate on it, easier said than done though.
60. Have you ever fallen asleep at work/school?
Yeah I was super sick at school one day and fell asleep from all the medicine I had to take
61. Have you ever been to a club?
Nah I’m more of a bar person if I’m gonna go out with people
62. Have you ever felt an earthquake?
Yeah a couple since living in California
63. Have you ever touched a snake?
Yeah my brother used to own one
64. Have you ever ran a red light?
Yeah on accident, I was driving home from a really late night at work and was kinda zoned out so I didn’t even realize it was red. Luckily it was a super small street and it was late enough no one was on the roads.
65. Have you ever been suspended from school?
Nope I’m a good girl.
66. Have you ever had detention?
Yeah I was late too many times for a class
67. Have you ever been in a car accident?
Yeah I rear ended someone on my way to a new job like a couple days after getting my new car
68. Have you ever hated the way you look?
Yes I am not happy with the way I look right now but I’m working on accepting my body and chaning the things that I can
69. Have you ever witnessed a crime?
I don’t believe so.
70. Have you ever pole danced?
No but I’d love to learn sometime.
71. Have you ever been lost?
Definitely, I’m not the greatest with directions
72. Have you ever been to the opposite side of the country?
Yup I used to live in michigan and now I live in Cali
73. Have you ever felt like dying?
Unfortunately yeah
74. Have you ever cried yourself to sleep?
Also yes unfortunately
75. Have you ever sang karaoke?
Yeah I love it
76. Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t?
Yeah but it didn’t turn out to be that bad
77. Have you ever laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose?
I don’t think so but maybe
78. Have you ever slept with someone at least 5 years older or younger?
No but I have dated someone who was 5 years older than me
79. Have you ever kissed in the rain?
No but I’d love to given the opportunity
80. Have you ever sang in the shower?
All the time
81. Have you ever made out in a park?
No, no one ever wants to go with me
82. Have you ever dream that you married someone?
Yeah but I couldn’t see who it was
83. Have you ever glued your hand to something?
Not my whole hand but definitely a finger
84. Have you ever got your tongue stuck to a flag pole?
No haha those are too dirty
85. Have you ever gone to school partially naked?
Not completely, but there was a time where I was so tired i forgot to put a shirt on under my zip up hoodie and didn’t realize until i went to take it off.
86. Have you ever been a cheerleader?
No but I was a dancer
87. Have you ever sat on a roof top?
No but I want to at somepoint
88. Have you ever brushed your teeth?
Yeah gotta be hygenic
89. Have you ever been too scared to watch scary movies alone?
All the time, I don’t do scary movies
90. Have you ever played chicken?
Yeah a couple of times
91. Have you ever been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?
I don’t think so but I wouldn’t put it past my brothers
92. Have you ever been told you’re hot by a complete stranger?
I’ve had people hit on me at work
93. Have you ever broken a bone?
Yup my right wrist when I was 3.
94. Have you ever been easily amused?
Yeah I’m sure I have
95. Have you ever laughed so hard you cried?
Yeah a couple of times
96. Have you ever mooned/flashed someone?
No not that confident haha
97. Have you ever cheated on a test?
Yeah a couple
98. Have you ever forgotten someone’s name?
All the time, it takes a couple of interactions for it to really stick
99. Have you ever met someone who didn’t seem real?
Yeah but always when I’ve had surface level interactions
100. Give us one thing about you that no one knows.
Hmmmm. I’m a hopeless romantic but don’t like to show it.
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liliannorman · 5 years
Text
This scientist wants to know how racial discrimination gets ‘under the skin’
When Leticia Márquez-Magaña was in high school, she knew she wanted to be a scientist. She got good grades, but some school staff said she shouldn’t aim so high. People like her shouldn’t be scientists, they said. Soon, however, she would prove them wrong.  
Today, Márquez-Magaña is a cellular and molecular biologist. She directs the Health Equity Research Laboratory at San Francisco State University in California. Her team collects saliva, blood and hair. They analyze these specimens to investigate the biological impacts of racism and other experiences on marginalized communities, such as African-American and Latina women. Her group has explored, for instance, how the pressure to act like a “superwoman” — including the need to appear strong and motivated to succeed — impacts the health of African-American women in good and bad ways. And in another recent study, the team collected specimens and recruited research participants from a group that has worse health outcomes yet is often left out of medical research. Here it was rural Latina survivors of breast cancer.
In addition, Márquez-Magaña and her coworkers are collecting data on “microaggressions.” These are the subtle snubs or insults experienced in the everyday lives of underrepresented people, including students. Her team also is studying countermeasures to those snubs and insults. These small gestures are known as “microaffirmations.” And they can make someone feel valued and appreciated. Márquez-Magaña and her coworkers are tracking such moments to learn how to make science classrooms and labs more welcoming and inclusive to all students. 
In this interview, Márquez-Magaña shares her experiences and advice with Science News for Students. (This interview has been edited for content and readability.)
What inspired you to pursue your career?
I’m a kid of Mexican immigrants. My siblings and I were not allowed to leave the home while my parents were working, which was all the time. So we watched a lot of TV. When I was in elementary school, there were only three channels — and lots of cartoons. In one episode, Bugs Bunny had on a lab coat. He was running around with a graduated cylinder full of green fluid that was bubbling over, and it just looked like he had so much fun. He dumped the contents onto a hairy monster, and the monster’s hair grew and looked beautiful. 
From this, I got the idea that scientists have a lot of fun. In retrospect, I realized they also have the power to change things. Those two things inspired me to pursue science. 
How did you get where you are today?
I learned a lot about American society from watching TV. One time on The Brady Bunch, they were talking about applying to Harvard University. I could tell Harvard was a big deal, that it was a status thing. And then, separately, I heard that Stanford University was “the Harvard of the West.” I figured Harvard was a chain, like Taco Bell and McDonald’s. I said, “I’m going to apply to the ‘Harvard of the West.’” I actually didn’t know that Stanford was its own thing until I was on the campus for freshman orientation.
Getting to Stanford wasn’t simple. There were advisors and teachers who tried to derail me. They were well-intentioned and said they wanted my best — but they believed that my best was becoming a secretary. For them, becoming a scientist was something completely out of my reach. They would say, “What do you mean you’re applying to Stanford? You’re not going to get in.” 
But then there was Mrs. Hawkeswood. She was my history teacher. And she would say, “Leti, you can get in. You’re the best student in the school.”
For all four years of high school, I was the top student. I was thinking, I’m a shoo-in for valedictorian. But when I applied, I was told, “Why are you applying for valedictorian? You speak Spanish. You should be the Spanish salutatorian.” And I thought, yes, I do speak Spanish, but I was also the top student all four years. I’m a National Merit Scholar. 
And I got into Stanford.
In the end, the school had co-valedictorians for the first time ever — because they couldn’t just have a Latina be the valedictorian. I realized early on that I need to be careful who I trusted with my dreams. 
How do you get your best ideas?
By not focusing on them. By not focusing on the question I want to answer — the problem I want to solve — the answer eventually comes to me. 
I think that’s the opposite of what you’d expect. But what I find is that I’ll do all this hard thinking and I’m just stuck. And then I’ll go do some laundry or take a shower and part of my mind works on it. Research shows that engaging in something that takes your mind away from your block point helps you come back to it renewed, refreshed, with a better idea. That’s why Google, Apple and a lot of biotech companies have game rooms.  
What’s one of your biggest failures, and how did you get past that?
When I became a scientist, I wanted to change things, to improve human health and well-being and diminish human suffering. But when I went to Stanford, I was told that pure science was politically neutral. I was told to stay away from research motivated by social issues because it was tainted. And so I started with microbial genetics — studying a little bacterium and the machinery that governed whether it went in one direction or another.
But I wasn’t true to myself. I didn’t follow my heart. I followed what people were telling me to do. I felt like I was conned. I let myself be conned. So that’s a failure. 
But that didn’t last. I moved to a field that felt more true to myself. 
What’s one of your biggest successes?
I think one of my biggest successes was getting out of microbial genetics. This kind of basic science research is often done by individuals who don’t share data or work with others. But it’s well-respected by other scientists. Instead, I moved into the field of health equity research. This type of science aims to collect evidence for health differences that are driven largely by social, economic and environmental factors. The work is often conducted by a team of researchers with different specialties. It usually engages the community. So the research is more impactful and meaningful — even though it has less prestige.
What do you do in your spare time?
I hang out with my family. I love my family and I cook for them. I’m not in the lab but I follow a protocol (aka a recipe), modify it as needed — and, based on the results, conclude whether it was worth it. 
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Leticia Márquez-Magaña enjoys dinner at home with one of her sons and his girlfriend.Courtesy of L. Márquez-Magaña
For New Year’s Eve, I made beef Wellington. (That’s a fancy dish that involves beef covered in puff pastry.) I enjoy doing that sort of thing with my family. We also go bowling. We play mini-golf. The other day we went to see a movie. I have two sons, ages 23 and 26. The 26-year old has a girlfriend. We go out regularly on group dates. How cool is that?
What piece of advice do you wish you had been given when you were younger?
Learn from your ancestors.
American history is not inclusive of all ancestral heritages. My ancestors are European, specifically Spanish, and I learned some about that — you know, the Niña, Pinta and Santa Maria that brought Christopher Columbus across the Atlantic. 
But I didn’t learn about the amazingness of my indigenous ancestors, the Aztecas. They were the premier applied mathematicians of their time. While the bubonic plaque swept through Europe, people were basically throwing poo out the window because there was no sewage system. But in Mexico there were aqueducts and sewage systems. 
If I had learned earlier that my Aztec ancestors were premier mathematicians and applied scientists, I think it would have gone a long way to combat some of the negative messaging I got that said I wouldn’t be able to do science.
This scientist wants to know how racial discrimination gets ‘under the skin’ published first on https://triviaqaweb.tumblr.com/
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